Exploring the space between science and self.

Category: Green

Movement — Capacity in Motion

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This article is part of a series exploring what we’ve called The Big Three—sleep, movement, and nutrition. These foundational elements influence nearly every aspect of health, and each one strengthens the others. If you’re new to the concept, I recommend starting with The Big Three before continuing.


🟡 The Meaning Behind Movement

We experience life in two primary ways—through our minds and through our bodies.

The mind thinks, feels, imagines, plans, prioritizes, and decides. The body carries those decisions into the world. Almost every conversation we have, every hug we give, every project we build, every adventure we pursue, and every achievement we celebrate eventually passes through movement.

Our capacity to move shapes our capacity to live.

Movement is how we interact with the physical world. It allows us to experience life, care for others, pursue our goals, and engage with the world around us. Like most human capacities, it grows with use and declines with neglect.

In many ways, movement is unique among the foundations of health.

Sleep has one fairly distinct doorway.

Basic nutrition has one fairly distinct doorway.

Movement has countless.

Sleep asks us to recover.

Nutrition asks us to nourish ourselves.

But movement can be expressed in almost endless ways.

We can walk, hike, dance, swim, garden, climb, lift weights, play sports, chase our children, explore new places, or simply choose the stairs instead of the elevator. Each asks something different of the body, but all remind it that it is still needed.

Different activities produce different adaptations, and some are better suited for particular goals. But when the goal is simply to become a healthier, more capable human being, there are far more valid starting points than most of us realize.

That’s one of the beautiful things about movement.

It doesn’t demand a single expression.

It simply asks to be expressed.

Unfortunately, we now live in a world where movement is no longer woven into daily life. Convenience has become one of humanity’s greatest achievements, but also one of its greatest challenges. Many of the physical demands that once maintained our capacity have quietly disappeared.

Movement now requires intention. And intention requires effort.

That effort can feel like another demand in a life already full of them.

So movement becomes another task. Another obligation. Another thing we’re told we “should” do.

We often justify it by focusing on appearance, weight loss, or avoiding disease. Those are valid reasons, but they’re incomplete.

Movement isn’t valuable because it’s exercise.

It’s valuable because it preserves capacity.

At one time, movement wasn’t something we scheduled. It was simply life. We hunted, gathered, built, carried, climbed, traveled, and played because survival depended on it.

Today, movement is much more optional.

Our biology, however, has not become optional.

It still expects activity. It still adapts to use. And it still declines without it.

So the question becomes:
Do we allow the machine to slowly diminish?
Do we let it become a memorial to life instead of something that actively lives it?
Or do we keep it running?

Movement is not simply about muscles or calories.
It is a conversation with the body.

Every walk. Every lift. Every climb. Every game. Every dance. Every hour spent in the garden.

Each one quietly says:

“Stay capable.”

The body responds accordingly.

Muscles strengthen.
The heart becomes more efficient.
Bones remain resilient.
The brain functions better.
Mood improves.
Blood sugar becomes easier to regulate.

Nearly every major system in the body responds because nearly every major system evolved expecting movement.

When we don’t move, adaptation still occurs.

Capacity gradually shrinks.
Tasks become harder.
Options become fewer.

This isn’t failure. It’s simply adaptation in the opposite direction of what most of us would prefer.

The body doesn’t respond to perfect plans.

It responds to repeated exposure.

Do it reasonably well.
Do enough.
Do it often.

Modern life makes movement feel like an upgrade.

In reality, it is a requirement that modern life has made easy to ignore.

The goal isn’t to become exceptional.

The goal is to preserve enough capacity that your body expands your options instead of quietly limiting them.


🟢 What To Do

Movement doesn’t need to be complicated.

It needs to become part of who you are.

The recommendations below aren’t designed to create elite athletes or maximize performance.

They’re meant to lower barriers, reduce noise, and help you build a lifelong relationship with movement.

Rather than prescribing one specific activity, think in terms of principles.

There are countless doorways into movement.

The principles remain the same.


1. Sit Less

If there’s one place almost everyone can begin, it’s here.

Long periods of sitting work against how the body is designed to function—even if you exercise regularly.

Stand up every 30–60 minutes when possible.

Take short walks.

Look for small opportunities to move throughout the day.

Movement doesn’t have to begin with a workout.

Sometimes it begins by simply sitting a little less.


2. Find a Doorway You’ll Keep Walking Through

Walking. Gardening. Dancing. Swimming. Weight training. Brazilian jiu-jitsu. Hiking. Recreational sports. Playing with your grandchildren.

The “best” activity is often the one that gets you moving safely and consistently.

Don’t spend months searching for the perfect doorway.

Walk through one. If you don’t like it, try another. The goal isn’t to choose perfectly—it’s to keep moving until you find an expression you can return to.


3. Challenge Your Body

The body adapts when it is asked to do something slightly beyond what it’s used to.

Sometimes that’s walking farther.
Sometimes it’s climbing a hill.
Sometimes it’s lifting a heavier object.
Sometimes it’s learning a new skill.

Whatever you choose, make sure it asks something of you.

Without challenge, capacity doesn’t grow.

Capacity grows when we consistently push just beyond our current abilities.


4. Build Strength Intentionally

Although movement has many valid doorways, modern life rarely asks us to meaningfully challenge our muscles.

For that reason, resistance training deserves special attention.

Aim for two or three sessions each week.

Start lighter than you think.

Learn good technique.

Progress gradually.

We’ll explore why muscle matters far beyond appearance in a future article.


5. Keep Your Body Moving Well

Move through different positions.

Reach overhead.

Squat.

Rotate.

Balance.

Get up from the floor occasionally.

Use the range of motion your body was designed to have.

Mobility isn’t another workout.

It’s how we keep movement available.


6. Progress Gradually

Capacity grows through repeated, recoverable challenge.

Don’t chase exhaustion. Build momentum.

Allow your body to adapt.

The goal isn’t to prove what you can do today.

It’s to gradually expand what you’ll be able to do tomorrow.


7. Stay Consistent

The body doesn’t reward occasional perfection.

It rewards repeated exposure.

Some weeks you’ll do more.

Some weeks you’ll do less.

Keep showing up.

Consistency compounds.


Closing

There isn’t one right way to move. There are countless ways to build capacity. Don’t let the search for the perfect program prevent you from beginning.

Choose a doorway. Walk through it.

Stay curious.
Keep learning.
Keep moving.

Because movement isn’t the goal.

Capacity is.

And the greater your capacity, the greater your ability to say yes to the people, places, experiences, and opportunities that make life meaningful.

If you decide you want to go deeper, there are many more layers to explore.

But this is enough to get started.

Primitive Beings in a Modern Age

The first disconnect.

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We exist as primitive beings in a modern age, and we face a unique challenge: thriving in an environment that changed faster than our biology could adapt.

As we established in the last post—Purpose & Burden—maintaining health requires effort.

While this is true, it doesn’t make it any less unfortunate.

We have to go out of our way to learn:

  • How to sleep
  • How to move
  • What to eat

And in many ways, we are the only species that has to do this.
The only animal that has to consciously figure out how to take care of itself.

This raises a fair question:

Why?

It’s easy to assume something is wrong with us.

A lack of discipline.
A lack of knowledge.
A lack of consistency.

But the issue runs deeper than that.

We are out of place.

A common analogy is a fish out of water—something removed from the environment it was built for.
Awkwardly flopping on dry land.
Cursing the air.

But that’s not quite right.

We’re not gasping on land.

We’re still in the water.

The water has just changed.

For most of human history, life required:

  • Regular physical movement
  • Exposure to natural light and darkness
  • Real, whole, minimally processed food
  • Effort tied directly to survival

Our food came from a plant or a mother.
We moved to build, to hunt, to gather, to protect.
We slept in rhythm with the sun. Darkness was only penetrated by firelight—not bright, artificial light that stimulates the brain and delays rest.

Our physiology was shaped in that environment.

Not over decades.

Over hundreds of thousands of years.

Then, in what is essentially a blink of an eye on that timeline, everything shifted.

The first Homo sapiens appeared roughly 300,000 years ago.

Our biology—our need for movement, nourishment, rest, and recovery—has remained largely the same.

But the environment we live in has changed dramatically in roughly the last century:

  • The rise of ultra-processed, highly convenient foods
  • A shift toward sedentary, desk-based work
  • The introduction of artificial light and extended waking hours
  • A culture that increasingly prioritizes productivity and output

The scale of that shift is difficult to grasp until you zoom out.

As Yuval Noah Harari notes in Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind, since the 1500s:

  • Human population has increased roughly 14-fold
  • Energy consumption has increased 115-fold

We’ve created a completely different environment.

And yet…

Our biology is largely the same.

Food is no longer something we seek.
It’s something that surrounds us.

Movement is no longer required.
It’s something we have to choose.

Sleep is no longer governed by the sun.
It competes with artificial light, stimulation, and modern demands.

In a very short period of time, we became:

Overfed, but undernourished
Stimulated, but exhausted
Connected, but often disconnected from ourselves—
from our nature and primitive needs

And then we ask:

“Why is this so hard?”

It’s not just you.

It’s the world that surrounds you.

We have become a product of our own advancement—
living in an environment shaped by convenience, efficiency, and technological growth.

But this doesn’t mean modern life is the problem.

It has given us safety, longevity, and opportunity that previous generations never had—especially when compared to our primitive past.

But it does mean this:

The environment no longer supports health by default.

Which means health is no longer automatic.

It requires intent.

Reconciling the Disconnect

This isn’t about rejecting modern life.

It’s about reintroducing the conditions your body still expects.

Not perfectly.
Not obsessively.
But consistently.

That might look like:

  • Choosing foods that resemble their original form more often than not
  • Getting exposure to natural light, especially early in the day
  • Reducing light and stimulation later at night
  • Building movement back into daily life—not just what we do in the gym
  • Creating small boundaries in an otherwise boundaryless environment

These aren’t advanced strategies.

It isn’t about obsession or optimization.

It’s simply a return to baseline conditions.

The foundation.

Because when those basics are in place, we’re in a much better position to experience:

  • More stable energy
  • Improved sleep
  • Easier appetite regulation
  • Movement that feels more natural

Not because we’ve “hacked” our biology.

But because we’ve stopped working against it.

Where This Goes Next

This is only the first layer.

Because it’s not just that the environment has changed…

It has intensified.

And that changes how our brain, behavior, and biology respond in ways that are far less obvious.

That’s where we’ll go next.

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