In the early years of my practice, I studied pulse diagnosis with a teacher who had apprenticed under the legendary Chinese physician, Dr. John H.F. Shen.

Dr. Shen was famous for his uncanny diagnostic abilities. He reportedly treated over 200 patients a day, reading their pulses and faces so precisely that he could pinpoint the root of their illness—and even the year it began. One story still stands out to me:

Dr. Shen once felt the pulse of an elderly man and told him his health problems stemmed from unresolved guilt dating back to 1940. The man confessed that during World War II, he had been part of the French Resistance—and had shot a close friend who turned out to be a Nazi spy.

As I learned pulse techniques from my teacher, I couldn’t get enough of these stories. I asked him if Dr. Shen had ever treated him.

“Yes,” he said. “And it changed my life.”

Naturally, I expected another incredible diagnosis. But what he shared caught me off guard.

“Dr. Shen felt my pulses and said, ‘I won’t treat you. You need to rest. You’re working too much.’ That was it.”

That was it?

“A year later,” he continued, “I asked him again. He felt my pulses, looked at me, and said the same thing: ‘Go home and rest. I can’t help you. You need a year off.’”

At the time, the idea of taking a year off felt impossible. But his health had been deteriorating, so he made a bold choice: he stepped away from his practice, saved up, and took the time to truly rest.

“It had a more profound effect on me than anything else I’ve ever done,” he told me. “I don’t think I’d be alive today if I hadn’t listened.”

That story hit me harder than all the tales of near-magical diagnoses.

Like many practitioners, I had become so focused on identifying and treating illness that I’d nearly forgotten the root wisdom: that true healing often lies in prevention—catching imbalance before it calcifies into disease.

Ancient texts describe the superior physician as one who treats the origin, not the outcome. But early-stage imbalances are easy to overlook—because they’re common and often painless. Things like:

• Suppressed or prolonged emotional strain
  
  

• Eating poorly, too fast, or under stress
  
  

• Chronic overwork
  
  

This last one—overwork—is what Dr. Shen saw so clearly. It’s also the one we tend to ignore.

It’s easy to dismiss the toll of overwork, especially when we know of high-functioning outliers who thrive on minimal sleep and maximum hustle. But those people are the exception, not the rule. For most of us, there is no shortcut around rest.

You can eat perfectly, take all the right supplements, and practice yoga daily—but if you're consistently overextended, you’re drawing on reserves your body cannot easily replenish.

Here’s the simplest advice I can offer:

Each day, try to use less energy than you’re given.

 

Think of your daily energy like a bank account. It’s replenished through quality sleep, good food, clean water, fresh air, and meaningful connection. When you end the day with energy left over, you’re saving for your future. But when you overspend—especially day after day—you start dipping into your “life force” savings account.

Chinese medicine calls this jing. Ayurveda calls it ojas. Biomedicine might point to the adrenal glands and endocrine system. When depleted, we age faster, get sick more easily, and feel foggy, fatigued, or dependent on caffeine and sugar to function.

If this sounds familiar, here’s your starting place:

Stop going past your limits.

And if you're deeply depleted, consider a recovery phase like my teacher’s. It doesn’t have to be a full year, but it should be intentional and restorative. Give yourself:

• Plenty of fresh air and time in nature

• All the sleep your body asks for

• Pure water and nourishing food

• A calm, affirming environment

• Supportive health care

• And zero tolerance for energy drains (like doom-scrolling or media that amps up your nervous system)

Now is the perfect time to begin.

 As the world around us blooms and bursts into activity, it can be tempting to match that energy with more doing. But rest is just as vital in times of growth. In fact, it’s what allows us to sustain that growth without burning out.

While rest may not look productive, it’s one of the most strategic long games there is.

It takes maturity and self-trust to say no to “doing more.” But if you listen closely, your body will tell you what it truly needs. And when you honor that—everything changes.

 

Be well,

Peter