Skip to main content

Subtle Shifts, Lasting Weight


Are brief periods of instability silently driving weight gain? A new study suggests so — and acupuncture may offer quiet protection.

Many assume that weight gain results from gradual, incremental habits — a slow, steady accumulation over time. But a recent study published in the International Journal of Obesity challenges this linear view. It uncovers something far more subtle: a substantial portion of fat gain occurs during brief, intense episodes — often unnoticed and almost always coinciding with periods of disruption. Holidays, job changes, illness, celebrations, or other transitional phases of life — these are the moments when energy balance is abruptly lost, caloric intake rises, and physical activity declines. Crucially, although these episodes are sporadic, their physiological impact can be long-lasting.

As an acupuncture physician, I regard acupuncture as a valuable tool for navigating such critical junctures. Regular sessions help regulate sleep cycles, modulate appetite, reduce emotional eating, manage anxiety, and maintain vital energy in balance. From the perspective of Chinese medicine, acupuncture strengthens the digestive system and stabilises the body’s central energy. From a Western medical standpoint, it supports neuroendocrine regulation and enhances the body’s self-regulatory mechanisms.

In this context, prevention goes beyond the daily scrutiny of one’s plate. It demands attentiveness to the subtle thresholds of transition — those psychological and physiological inflection points where life quietly shifts. Acupuncture may operate in silence, but its effects can be profound: it acts as a steadying force during upheaval, preserving balance when the familiar rhythm falters. After all, even small emotional storms can leave deep physiological marks if the body isn’t already fortified.

Reference: Speakman, J. R., Levitsky, D. A., & Westerterp, K. R. (2025). Lifestyle instability: an overlooked cause of population obesity? International Journal of Obesity. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41366-025-01787-5

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Fallacy of Self‑Sufficiency

Some people will tell you — quite loudly, usually — that they are enough. They need no one, thank you very much. Entirely self‑made. A closed circuit. I, too, fancied myself an island at one time. A small, sturdy principality of one. I paid my own bills. Made my own tea. I even spoke aloud to myself in the supermarket queue, which was meant to prove something. But late at night, when all the heroic independence had been done for the day, there it was — a sort of homesickness without a forwarding address. You know the feeling. You’re supposedly sovereign, but you still wish someone would knock. Self‑sufficiency is a word that weighs a bit too much. It sounds like an insurance policy or a piece of camping equipment. It promises freedom, but only the kind you can fit in a box. Like eating an entire birthday cake alone — which, I confess, I’ve done. Because the truth (and it arrives, as truths tend to, when you’ve just burned your toast) is that we are made of others. We are es...

The Progressive Misreading of Silence

At 5, I entered rooms like a murmur. I was already listening for something behind the noise — something older than voices, softer than footsteps. “He’s such a well-behaved boy,” they said, smiling with relief. But what they mistook for virtue was only quiet intuition. I was not good. I was attuned. At 11, I had mastered the art of presence without weight. I could sit by the window for hours, watching the wind pass through the trees like thought through the body. “He’s quiet,” they would say — gently, but with a trace of discomfort. They couldn’t name the feeling of someone watching without need. At 17, I was called “mature.” But maturity is not a virtue — it is a scar. I had already seen the shape of endings before others saw beginnings. Friends came to me like tide to stone, hoping to be held. I held them, yes — but not always with words. Sometimes silence is the only honest offering. At 24, my stillness no longer charmed. The world asked for brightness, momentum, performa...

On Loyalty and the Quiet Companionship of Pippen

I have a cosmopolitan friend who, by the mercy of chance — that discreet and impartial arbiter of destinies — was born in Serbia. Industrious beyond measure, he treats work not merely as obligation but as a quiet philosophy, a means of aligning oneself with the silent order of things. And he is a companion of a rare kind: steadfast, discerning, and, above all, loyal. His name is Pippen. We first crossed paths in the now-vanished days of Google+ — that fleeting agora where, for a moment, the world’s geeks entertained the gentle delusion that they might, in time, inherit the Earth. It was an age of bright aspiration, tinged with naïveté, yet marked by a peculiar fellowship that transcended all borders and conventions. Among Pippen’s many virtues, loyalty stands pre-eminent. Not the clamorous, performative loyalty so fashionable in this restless age, but the quieter, unwavering kind — the loyalty of one who stays. It is revealed not in grand gestures but in small, consistent a...