The Blog

Here's a weird thing to think about when you're bored out of your mind: you are not alone in your own body. A bit scary- isn't it? Trillions of tiny microorganisms live on you and inside you, especially in your gut. Bacteria, fungi and other microbes are basically sharing your body like a very crowded apartment complex and most of them are actually helping keep the place running. We call this whole community the microbiome. And no, it doesn't mean you're secretly just 30% bacteria and 70% water walking around pretending to be human. But these roommates that aren't visible to you do have a surprisingly big influence on how your body works.

A huge part of the microbiome lives in your gut, where these microbes help break down parts of food that our own enzymes can't fully digest. In the process, they produce useful substances, including something called 'short-chain fatty acids', which can support the cells lining your gut and influence metabolism and immune function.

Your gut microbes also interact with your immune system. They teach lessons about what belongs in the body and what might be a problem, while competing with harmful microbes for space and resources.

“Basically, your gut has its own microscopic neighbourhood watch.”

And it gets even more interesting: scientists are studying the gut-brain connection, because signals from gut microbes can interact with the nervous system and influence things like appetite, stress and mood. This doesn't mean your bacteria are literally deciding whether you're having a good day—but they may be part of a much bigger conversation between your gut and brain.

We usually think of emotions as a very human-y thing. We cry our eyes out when we're sad, hug our friends and family when we miss them, and somehow manage to get emotionally attached to animals who would probably eat our food and then stare at us like we owe them more. But what if animals experience some of these feelings too? A dog waiting by the door, elephants staying beside a dead companion, or chimpanzees comforting each other all raise the same strange question: wait— are animals actually feeling these emotions or what?

The more scientists observe animals, the more complicated the answer becomes.

Take chimpanzees. They have been seen comforting distressed group members through things like touching and staying close to them. And interestingly, not every chimp does it in exactly the same way. Some seem much more likely to comfort others than their companions. Basically, even chimps might have their own versions of “the emotionally available friend.”

Elephants are even more fascinating. They can help injured members of their group, react to distress in other elephants and sometimes spend time around the bodies of elephants that have died. Orcas and other highly social animals have also shown unusual behaviour after losing companions.

And friendship? Animals obviously aren't sitting around exchanging friendship bracelets, but many species form strong, long-term relationships. They choose certain individuals to spend time with, cooperate with them and sometimes even seem to prefer particular companions.

Grief is the tricky part. We can observe what an animal does, but we can't exactly sit an elephant down and ask, “So… how are you feeling about this?” Scientists therefore talk about grief-like behaviour rather than claiming they know exactly what is happening inside the animal's mind.

Maybe animals don't experience emotions in exactly the same way we do. But the more we study them, the harder it becomes to say that their social lives are simply instinct and nothing more.

And honestly, maybe friendship doesn't always need words, matching bracelets or a daily 2-hour chat.

“Sometimes it might just mean choosing to stay beside someone.”

We all know we're supposed to exercise. Move more, sit less, get your steps in—the usual advice. But have you ever actually stopped to think about what happens in your body when you decide to stop being a couch potato and exercise? Because the whole thing is kind of crazy. The second you start running, your heart suddenly goes into overdrive, you're breathing like you've just escaped a hungry dog, and your legs are questioning your life choices. Meanwhile, inside your body, a whole team of systems is working together. And if you keep exercising regularly, they actually start getting better at their jobs.

Let's start with the heart and lungs. The moment you start moving, your muscles need more oxygen and energy. So your heart pumps faster and your breathing picks up to get more oxygen into your blood and move it where it's needed. Do this regularly, and your heart gets more efficient at pumping blood, while your muscles get better at using oxygen.

Your muscles also adapt to being challenged. They become stronger and better at handling the same workload. Even your bones respond to regular weight-bearing movement by getting signals that help maintain their strength. Which is funny when you think about it—your bones are technically getting a workout too.

And then there's the brain, the big bad wolf. Exercise increases blood flow to the brain and affects chemicals involved in mood, stress and attention. So that post-walk feeling of “okay, I can deal with my life again” isn't completely in your head. Well… technically it is, because your brain is involved.

Exercise also helps your metabolism work more efficiently, including improving how your cells respond to insulin and use energy.

The coolest part is that exercise isn't just about getting stronger or burning calories. Your body is constantly noticing what you ask it to do and adjusting accordingly.

Your heart, lungs, muscles, bones, brain and metabolism all gradually adapt.

“So yes, exercising can be miserable and brutal sometimes—but your body is quietly turning that struggle into an upgrade.”

We spend roughly a third of our lives sleeping, which is honestly a little crazy when you think about it. That’s years spent lying completely still, eyes closed, apparently doing absolutely nothing. Except… our bodies are actually working overtime. Sleep is when the brain switches between different stages, sorts through information, regulates hormones and helps the body recover. So sleep isn't the brain pressing an “off” button. It’s more like the night shift has started—and the brain has a pretty long to-do list.

Before we even fall asleep, our circadian rhythm, basically the body's internal 24-hour clock, starts preparing us. As it gets dark, the brain increases melatonin which helps signal that it’s time to sleep. Meanwhile, a chemical called adenosine gradually builds up while we’re awake, creating something called sleep pressure. So that 2 a.m. “I could literally sleep while standing up at this point” feeling? There’s biology behind it.

Once asleep, the brain moves through non-REM and REM sleep in cycles that repeat several times. Deep non-REM sleep is especially important for physical recovery, while REM sleep is associated with vivid dreaming, learning and processing information. Interestingly, we tend to get more deep sleep earlier in the night and more REM sleep later.

Sleep also helps strengthen and organise memories. So that chapter you desperately crammed at 11 p.m.? Your brain may actually work on organising it while you sleep.

Meanwhile, your heart rate and breathing generally slow down, body temperature drops slightly, muscles relax, and hormones involved in growth, appetite, metabolism and stress are regulated. Even your immune system gets a night shift.

And this is where “I’ll sleep later” becomes questionable. Too little sleep can affect attention, reaction time, mood, learning and memory. Repeatedly getting too little sleep can also interfere with immunity and is associated with longer-term health problems.

Sleep isn't wasted time, even though it can feel like you're accomplishing absolutely nothing. Your brain is organising memories, your body is recovering, and several systems are quietly resetting. So the next time you sacrifice sleep for one more episode or another late-night study session, remember: your brain has a night shift too.

“And apparently, it doesn't believe in unpaid overtime.”

You know that feeling you get when you have an exam tomorrow, 47 tabs open, three deadlines approaching, and suddenly your heart decides it wants to run a marathon while your stomach makes weird noises? Yeah, that's stress. And while we usually describe it as something that is “in our head”, the rest of the body clearly didn’t get the memo. Your heart speeds up, your breathing changes, your stomach starts acting suspicious, and your brain goes into full alert mode. So, what exactly is going on? Or more precisely, what exactly happens inside us when stress takes over?

It starts when the brain senses a threat or challenge. It could be something genuinely dangerous, like seeing a tiger on the loose, or something way less dramatic—like your teacher saying, “Put your pens down.” Your brain sends out an alarm, activating the body's fight-or-flight response. The adrenal glands release hormones such as adrenaline, which quickly gets the body ready to react. Your heart beats faster, breathing speeds up, blood flow is directed towards your muscles, and more glucose becomes available for energy. Basically, your body temporarily prioritises survival over everything else.

Then comes cortisol, another stress hormone that helps keep the body on high alert for longer. This is useful when you actually need to deal with a threat. The problem begins when the alarm doesn't seem to switch off. If stress keeps happening again and again, the body spends too much time in this high-alert state, which can interfere with things like sleep, digestion, immunity and concentration.

That being said, stress isn't automatically the villain. A little can sharpen your focus and even give you that extra push when you need it. The real problem is when your body's emergency alarm starts acting like it pays rent and refuses to leave. Your body is built to handle stress—but it also needs a chance to switch off, recover, and breathe. After all, like they all say, excess of anything is bad.

Having a fever feels like being stuck in a daily soap—overly dramatic, unpredictable, and seemingly never-ending. One moment your body is shivering under a foot-thick blanket and the next it starts sweating like you've been running a marathon. Everyone keeps repeating, "You are burning up!" So what exactly is happening? Your body is not simply overheating like an old, used-up machine; it is doing a planned defense move, something like a samurai. It has found a problem and thus, decided it is time to change the default settings.

When the immune system finds an infection, it does not simply wait. It releases chemical signals that send an alert to the brain. The alert reaches the hypothalamus, which can be thought of as our bodies' thermostat.

Normally, the body keeps temperature close to 37 °C. When an infection occurs, our bodies raise that setting temporarily.

That explains something: the shivering.

If the brain suddenly sets 39 °C as the new target temperature, the body can feel cold at 37 °C. The body then shivers, reduces heat loss by constricting blood vessels and makes us want to reach for seventeen blankets.

When body temperature reaches the target, the chills usually stop. Then, when the brain lowers the thermostat, the body needs to get rid of the extra heat. Sweating, skin flushing and the need to throw off those seventeen blankets follow.

So a fever is not the body randomly going haywire. It is the immune system, the brain and the body working together on a coordinated project—except nobody asked the body to participate. It can feel awful. The rise in temperature is just part of a larger response to whatever is making the body sick.

“The body is not just getting hotter, it is changing the rules of the game.”