I think the mind matters. I also think it has limits.

Problems start when we pretend those two ideas contradict each other.

I'm writing this because someone close to me recently claimed they were healed by the laying on of hands.

This is someone who, years ago, nearly died!

Months in the ICU. Had to relearn how to walk, talk, eat—everything. Still lives with physical consequences from that time. Yet, now they believe a prayer session fixed something.

I'm perplexed.

I don't know how to argue with that. I'm not sure I should. But, I also can’t pretend it doesn’t bother me—beyond belief, pun very much intended.

There's a growing tendency—especially in wellness and spiritual circles—to talk about "the power of the mind" and "power of faith" as if belief itself can override reality.

Mantras are promoted as fact:

"Focus hard enough and illness recedes."

"Believe deeply enough and the body follows."

And when it doesn't work?

The failure gets blamed on insufficient faith, not on the limits of belief itself.

That's where blind optimism quietly turns into something more dangerous.

Some Christian communities believe illness can be prayed away. The belief is sincere. But sincerity doesn't change physiology. What's missing is any acknowledgment of the people who suffer—or die—when prayer gets treated as a substitute for antibiotics, insulin, or surgery.

Buddhism often gets lumped in as another flavor of mind-over-matter thinking, but that's a misread. Attention, presence, non-attachment—these are ways of relating to experience, not tools for overriding biology. Dementia makes that distinction painfully clear. When the brain degenerates, staying present isn't a matter of discipline or insight anymore. The capacity itself erodes.

That's the line I care about.

The mind can influence outcomes. It shapes pain, stress, behavior, recovery—at the margins. Placebo effects are real, not because belief is magical, but because expectation has measurable neurological pathways. None of that conflicts with science.

The conflict starts when belief is expected to replace modern advancements and known knowns.

Belief doesn't eliminate pathogens. It doesn't reverse neurodegeneration. It doesn't regenerate tissue once damage crosses a certain threshold. Treating belief as a stand-in for material causes isn't empowerment—it's denial dressed up as hope.

The sneakiest move by some of these groups preaching radical faith is to redefine science as "just another belief system." Once that happens, evidence becomes optional. The bias lens passes for proof if the outcome is in favor. If and when outcomes fail, responsibility shifts inward: you didn't believe hard enough.

I'm not arguing against belief, faith, or optimism.

Believe you can recover. Believe you can endure. Believe you can handle more than you expected.

Just don't ask belief to do the work of biology, chemistry, or physics.

For me, the position is simple:

The mind matters but the mind has limits.

And those limits are not a failure.

Belief is most powerful when it works with reality—supporting effort, meaning, and care—rather than trying to replace the mechanisms that make those things possible.

None of this is an argument against faith, prayer, or hope. It’s an argument against putting all the weight of survival on belief alone. If you’re sick, you deserve both care and hope—not a choice between the two.

I think the mind matters. I also think it has limits.

Problems start when we pretend those two ideas contradict each other.

I'm writing this because someone close to me recently claimed they were healed by the laying on of hands.

This is someone who, years ago, nearly died!

Months in the ICU. Had to relearn how to walk, talk, eat—everything. Still lives with physical consequences from that time. Yet, now they believe a prayer session fixed something.

I'm perplexed.

I don't know how to argue with that. I'm not sure I should. But, I also can’t pretend it doesn’t bother me—beyond belief, pun very much intended.

There's a growing tendency—especially in wellness and spiritual circles—to talk about "the power of the mind" and "power of faith" as if belief itself can override reality.

Mantras are promoted as fact:

"Focus hard enough and illness recedes."

"Believe deeply enough and the body follows."

And when it doesn't work?

The failure gets blamed on insufficient faith, not on the limits of belief itself.

That's where blind optimism quietly turns into something more dangerous.

Some Christian communities believe illness can be prayed away. The belief is sincere. But sincerity doesn't change physiology. What's missing is any acknowledgment of the people who suffer—or die—when prayer gets treated as a substitute for antibiotics, insulin, or surgery.

Buddhism often gets lumped in as another flavor of mind-over-matter thinking, but that's a misread. Attention, presence, non-attachment—these are ways of relating to experience, not tools for overriding biology. Dementia makes that distinction painfully clear. When the brain degenerates, staying present isn't a matter of discipline or insight anymore. The capacity itself erodes.

That's the line I care about.

The mind can influence outcomes. It shapes pain, stress, behavior, recovery—at the margins. Placebo effects are real, not because belief is magical, but because expectation has measurable neurological pathways. None of that conflicts with science.

The conflict starts when belief is expected to replace modern advancements and known knowns.

Belief doesn't eliminate pathogens. It doesn't reverse neurodegeneration. It doesn't regenerate tissue once damage crosses a certain threshold. Treating belief as a stand-in for material causes isn't empowerment—it's denial dressed up as hope.

The sneakiest move by some of these groups preaching radical faith is to redefine science as "just another belief system." Once that happens, evidence becomes optional. The bias lens passes for proof if the outcome is in favor. If and when outcomes fail, responsibility shifts inward: you didn't believe hard enough.

I'm not arguing against belief, faith, or optimism.

Believe you can recover. Believe you can endure. Believe you can handle more than you expected.

Just don't ask belief to do the work of biology, chemistry, or physics.

For me, the position is simple:

The mind matters but the mind has limits.

And those limits are not a failure.

Belief is most powerful when it works with reality—supporting effort, meaning, and care—rather than trying to replace the mechanisms that make those things possible.

None of this is an argument against faith, prayer, or hope. It’s an argument against putting all the weight of survival on belief alone. If you’re sick, you deserve both care and hope—not a choice between the two.