If humans are wired for connection, why do relationships often feel like hard work or confusing?

Many clients have shared some version of this question with me. They notice themselves pulling away from people they care about, overthinking simple interactions, not feeling fully satisfied by relationships, or feeling flat or disconnected in moments that “should” feel warm. Sometimes we have a longing for closeness but no clear sense of how to move toward it. At other times, even the idea of connection feels really overwhelming, as if we’re not quite sure we have the energy required, or if it’s really what we want.

It’s easy then, in these moments, to draw critical conclusions: “I’m not good at relationships”, “I don’t really need people”, or “People don’t care about me.”

But what if the difficulty connecting isn’t about a lack of desire or motivation for building connection?

What if it has more to do with losing touch with the underlying system that helps us find our way toward it?

We Are Wired for Connection

Connection is not a preference or personality trait. It’s a fundamental biological human need.

Decades of research in attachment theory, developmental psychology, and neuroscience point to the same conclusion that human beings are regulated through relationships. For example, infants cannot stabilise their own nervous systems without a caregiver’s presence. Their heart rate, skin temperature, stress response, and emotional states are shaped through repeated interactions with another mind and body.

This need doesn’t just disappear in adulthood. Studies on co-regulation show that even as adults, our physiology, like our heart rate variability, stress hormones, and emotional arousal, continues to be influenced by safe, attuned contingent connection with others.

In this way, the pull toward connection is already built into our biological system. And yet, knowing we have the need for something doesn’t necessarily mean we know how to meet the need!

Feelings as a Kind of Compass

One way to understand this gap between knowing about a need and meeting it, is to look more closely at the role of feelings.

In affective neuroscience, feelings are not seen as vague, unimportant or “soft” experiences. They are understood to have been generated by evolutionarily old brain systems that track how well our needs are being met. Researchers like Jaak Panksepp and, more recently, Mark Solms, have described core affective systems (such as SEEKING, CARE, PANIC/GRIEF) in the brain that organise behaviour around survival and connection.

From this perspective, feelings function as a kind of special internal guidance system. Feelings signal when something matters, when something is missing, when something feels safe, or when something feels off.  In this way, help orient us toward what we might need and tell us if we are doing a good enough job of meeting that need.

For example, a sense of warmth might draw us closer. A flicker of discomfort might invite caution. A feeling of loneliness may nudge us toward reaching out.

When we are in contact with these feeling signals, connection is not something we have to think our way into, as we already have the map.

When Guidance Gets Disrupted

For many people, however, this internal system might not feel very clear or accessible.

Sometimes feelings are too intense. The nervous system can then become flooded or hyper-aroused, making closeness feel overwhelming or unsafe. In response, the system might have learned to downregulate too quickly (avoidance, shutting down, detaching).

At other times, feelings are muted or distant. There is reduced access to interoceptive signals or uncertainty about not really knowing what you feel. Without these signals, it becomes really difficult to know what we want, never mind how to move toward it.

There can also be misinterpretation. A surge of physiological arousal (like a racing heart, tight chest, or nausea) may be interpreted as danger, rather than as longing, excitement, or vulnerability. The body signals that something is important, but the mind categorises it as threat without exploring further.

And often, there is an internal conflict. The same person may activate both approach (seeking closeness) and avoidance (protecting from overwhelm), leading to a sense of push-pull; being drawn in and pushed away at the same time.

These patterns are not random flaws. They are learned adaptations to difficult and confusing experiences. The nervous system then over time simplifies our responses about how much feeling is tolerable, how it is interpreted, and whether it is safe to act on.

When Connection Becomes Something You Have to Figure Out

If feelings are what guide us toward connection, what happens when we can’t access or trust them?

Connection then starts to shift from something intuitively meaningful into something effortful or confusing.

Instead of sensing our way to meet the need, we try to over-think our way forward:

• Am I being too much?
• Do they actually want to hear from me?
• If I express this need will I be rejected?

Cognitive control steps in where this feeling guidance system is offline or uncertain. Interactions and connection can then become overanalysed or avoided altogether. Closeness may feel like something to manage carefully, rather than something to move into naturally.

Without access to our internal signals, connection becomes something we try to figure out like a tricky maths problem, rather than something we can feel our way into more organically.

The Misunderstanding

Sometimes, this can look like disinterest, detachment, or low capacity. But more often, it suggests a disruption in the feeling system that helps us recognise and respond to our own needs.

The longing for connection may still be there but the path toward it feels unclear.

So when we think something like “I don’t need people”, it’s more likely something closer to “I don’t know how to find my way to them from here.”

Relearning the Language of Feeling

If this is true, then the work is not about forcing connection by following set rules or ‘performing’ it more effectively. It is actually about slowly re-establishing contact with the internal signals that make connection possible.

This begins in very small ways:

• increasing awareness of bodily states (interoceptive awareness)
• naming emotional states, even when they seem vague (shown to improve emotional regulation)
• gradually expanding tolerance for feelings, rather than immediately avoiding or overriding them

For some, this process involves learning to stay with feelings that once felt overwhelming for just a little bit longer. For others, it might be discovering feelings that have long been out of reach.

This is about developing a different kind of relationship with one’s own internal world that is curious, patient, and gradually more trusting. And unfortunately, there is no quick fix method!

Finding a Way Back

In order to meet our inherent needs for connection then, it seems to require a rebuilding of trust in the internal system that helps us recognise what we feel, what we need, and what draws us toward others effectively.

The difficulty, then, is not that connection is unnatural or that we don’t need other people. It’s that, at one time or another, we all lose access to the very signals that help us find our way. And often, the path back to others begins with first feeling our way back into ourselves.

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If you’ve ever been told “Don’t swallow your gum – it’ll stay in your stomach for seven years!”, you’re not alone.

It’s one of those childhood warnings that sticks around – but is it actually true?

According to Dr. Rina Fu from Curtin University, the answer is a firm no. “Nothing can stay that long in the digestive tract,” she explained. Thanks to a process called peristalsis – a rhythmic squeezing motion that moves everything through your digestive system – even indigestible materials eventually make their way out the “back end.”

So while chewing gum base isn’t broken down by your body, it doesn’t camp out for seven years either. It just passes through, much like other materials we can’t digest.

What Exactly Is Chewing Gum?

Modern chewing gum isn’t only sugar and flavouring. Dr. Rina explained that gum contains a gum base, flavourings, sweeteners, and special additives that give it that stretchy, chewy feel. One of those additives has a surprising origin: xanthan gum.

“Xanthan gum comes from bacterial secretions,” Dr. Rina said – or, as Asa jokingly put it, “bacteria pee.” Don’t worry, it’s not as gross as it sounds. Certain friendly bacteria produce this natural polymer, known as an extracellular polysaccharide (EPS), to help them stick to surfaces. Food scientists later realised it works brilliantly as a thickener and stabiliser, so they now use it in everything from salad dressings to sauces – and, of course, chewing gum.

More Than Just Gum

Xanthan gum shows up far beyond the snack aisle. You’ll spot it in ice cream, toothpaste, cosmetics, and even cement and concrete. It controls texture and viscosity – basically, how thick or smooth something feels. It’s not a “whole food,” as Dr. Rina pointed out, but food authorities widely approve it and consider it safe.

Should You Worry About Additives?

It’s easy to feel suspicious about any food additive at first, but xanthan gum has gone through extensive testing, and food authorities around the world recognise it as safe. Bacterial fermentation – the process used to make it – is completely natural, and in a way, bridges the gap between science and nature.

As Dr. Rina reminds us, bacteria aren’t always the villains. Many of them play essential roles in producing everyday foods – from thickened sauces to yoghurt, sourdough, and even chocolate puddings!

So What’s the Takeaway?

The next time you’re chewing gum or enjoying a cold scoop of ice cream, take a moment to appreciate the hidden world of microbes that make these textures possible. From tiny bacteria to your favourite sweet treats, science is everywhere – even in something as small as a stick of gum.

And if someone warns you about swallowing it? You can confidently tell them the truth: it won’t stay in your stomach forever – it just takes the scenic route on its way out.

Article supplied with thanks to Sonshine.

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When you hear black moon, it sounds dramatic and almost apocalyptic. But as radio astronomer Dr. Laura Driessen explains, it’s not the end of the world. In fact, it’s a chance to see the stars more clearly.

What Exactly Is a Black Moon?

Dr. Driessen, from the University of Sydney, explains. She began by comparing it to a familiar phrase: “You’ve probably heard about blue moons before, especially the saying once in a blue moon,”she said.

A blue moon happens when there are two full moons in one month, or an extra full moon in a season. “A black moon is the same idea, except it’s a new moon instead of a full moon,” Dr. Driessen explained.

What Is a New Moon?

Many people get confused about new moons. Unlike a full moon, where the sun lights up the side we see, the new moon is dark. “The moon looks black because the far side is lit by the sun, not the side facing us,” Dr. Driessen said. In simple terms: during a new moon, the moon sits between Earth and the sun. We can’t see it at night.

So Can We See the Black Moon?

Not really. “The new moon is up during the day, rising at 6:30 a.m. and setting at 5:30 p.m.,” Dr. Driessen explained. That means the black moon itself is invisible. But that’s actually good news for stargazers. With no moonlight, the night sky appears brighter.

Perfect Conditions for Stargazing

The black moon most recently happened on in August this year. While you won’t have seen the moon itself, the stars and planets were stunning.

A Modern Name for an Ancient Moon

Interestingly, the term black moon isn’t ancient.

“Blue moon, as we use it today, is less than a hundred years old. The idea of a black moon was only traced back to 2016,” Dr. Driessen revealed.

So while the name may be new, the moon itself hasn’t changed.

Article supplied with thanks to Sonshine.

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Could it be that Atheism and Science don’t mix, but God and science do?

I realise it’s a controversial claim in our secular age. After all, the belief that Christianity is anti-science and Atheism is pro-science is part of our cultural furniture here in the West.

But what if the opposite were true?

That’s the argument I’ve come across from several prominent thinkers and philosophers, most recently by Emeritus Professor of Mathematics at Oxford University, John Lennox, in his latest book.

To be clear, Lennox is not saying Atheists can’t do science: some of the smartest scientists are Atheists. Rather, Lennox and other thinkers are critiquing the worldview, the assumptions and beliefs of Atheism, not the people who believe it.

So, here’s what Lennox means:

In order to do science, we need to believe that our minds can discern truth

Lennox points out something that is obvious once you think about it: we can only do science if we believe our brains can discern truth about the world around us:

I do not think that this is hard to deduce from the fact that science proceeds on the basis of the a priori assumption that the universe is, at least to a certain extent, accessible to the human mind. No science can be done without the scientist believing so, so it is important to ask for grounds for this belief.

In other words, our brains can make sense of the universe around us, but why? It’s an important question to ask and answer for the sake of science.

But, he argues, Atheism doesn’t provide a satisfying answer. On the contrary, Atheism posits a mindless, unguided origin of the universe’s life and consciousness. And this destroys our confidence in our brain’s ability to know the truth.

But how?

Why Atheistic Evolution is a problem for Science.

American philosopher Alvin Plantinga shows why Atheism – or more particularly, Atheistic evolution – is a ‘game over’ type problem for our brain’s ability to know truth.

He captures his argument in what he calls the ‘Evolutionary Argument Against Naturalism [Atheism]’  or EAAN.

Here’s the Reader’s Digest version of his argument:

Atheism is a problem for science because evolution is based on the survival of the fittest, not the survival of the truthful. And therefore,  how can we be sure that our brains evolved to discern truth (as opposed to just helping us survive)?

(The short answer is we can’t.)

Here’s a step-by-step breakdown of the logic:

Step 1: The Starting Beliefs

We start by accepting two main ideas:

1. Atheism: The belief that there is no Creator God who designed our minds. Instead, we’re living in a random universe with only matter.

2. Evolution as the survival of the fittest: The idea that our minds (our brains) were built only through blind, random evolution by natural selection.

Step 2: Evolution by natural selection only picks winners, not truth-tellers

Evolution only ‘cares’ if your actions help you survive and reproduce. It’s all about your behaviour (does your behaviour help you survive). And not about what you believe (whether your beliefs are true or not).

Step 3: False ideas can be just as useful for survival

Because evolution by natural selection only cares about what you do, a false idea can make you act in a way that helps you survive just as much as a true idea.

For example: Running away because you believe a tiger is dangerous (True Idea) helps you survive. But running away because you believe a witch is trying to eat your soul (False Idea) also makes you run away and helps you survive just the same.

Step 4: We have a strong reason to doubt our mind’s reliability

Since evolution often rewards useful but false ideas, and there are ‘innumerable’ ways to be wrong but still survive, accepting Atheistic evolution means it is impossible to know if your brain has evolved to find truth.

Of course, if Atheistic Evolution is true (and therefore impossible to know if your mind can discern truth or not), then you’re left with a conundrum:

Step 5: Atheistic Evolution: The idea that eats itself

This realisation—that you can’t know if your brain is a truth-finder—gives you a strong reason to doubt the basic reliability of your own mind.

And if you must doubt your mind’s reliability, then you must doubt every single idea your mind produces.

Including Atheistic Evolution.

But if believing in Atheistic Evolution leads you to doubt Atheistic Evolution, then it’s an incoherent and irrational view.

Or as Atheist philosopher John Gray points out:

Modern humanism is the faith that through science humankind can know the truth – and so be free. But if Dawin’s theory of natural selection is true this is impossible. The human mind serves evolutionary success, not truth’.

Even Darwin himself saw this problem. He wrote:

‘With me the horrid doubt always arises whether the conviction of man’s mind, which has been developed from the mind of the lower animals, are of any value or at all trustworthy.’

But can’t science help us discern truth?

One counterargument is that, while our brains may be unreliable in discerning truth, modern science can help us overcome this limitation. I.e. Imperfect brains + science = truth.

But this belief relies on the assumption that our brains can reliably discern some measure of truth in the first place. But if the argument above is correct, then we have no confidence that our brains have evolved to know the truth at all (even imperfectly).

In which case, science + unreliable brain ≠ truth.

(To use an analogy, if you knew that your thermometer came from a factory where it was revealed that the thermometers were all faulty, could you ever rely on what the thermometer said?)

Another reason Atheism doesn’t make sense of our world

While there are other problems with Atheism, the fact that it destroys any reason to believe our mind’s ability to find truth is worth noting.

As Lennox points out:

It is for all these reasons that I reject atheism, and not because I believe Christianity to be true. I am a mathematician with a deep and lifelong interest in science and rational thought. How could I espouse a worldview that discredits the very rationality I need to do mathematics?

Whereas Christianity does provide a solid foundation for Science

Lennox then goes on to point out that, in contrast to the Atheistic-evolutionary view or reality,  the biblical worldview does provide reasons for believing in our mind’s ability to discern truth. Namely, being created in the image of a rational God makes sense as an explanation for why we can engage in science.

Science and God mix very well. It is science and atheism that do not mix.

Article supplied with thanks to Akos Balogh.

About the Author: Akos is the Executive Director of the Gospel Coalition Australia. He has a Masters in Theology and is a trained Combat and Aerospace Engineer.

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Australia made space history last last month when a homemade rocket launched into the sky, only to come crashing back down seconds later.

But don’t call it a failure. In the world of space exploration, even a short flight can mean a giant leap.

At the same time, astronomers have solved a century-old mystery about one of the night sky’s brightest stars. It turns out, Betelgeuse is not alone.

Matt Woods, from Perth Observatory, breaks it all down.

A Rocket, A Crash, and a Big Win for Australia

Gilmore Space Technologies became the first Australian company to launch a locally built rocket. Called Ares, the test flight on July 30 marked a major milestone in our space journey.

The rocket lifted off and hovered for 14 seconds before its engines failed. It then plummeted back to Earth and exploded.

Sounds disappointing? Actually, it’s pretty normal.

“Even SpaceX had multiple rockets blow up before one finally worked,” Matt explained. “Failure is part of the process.”

In fact, SpaceX’s Falcon 1 failed four times. On the fifth and final attempt, when their funding was nearly gone, it finally flew. That success made way for the Falcon 9, now a staple of commercial spaceflight.

What Went Wrong?

The Gilmore team suspects a power failure, but the investigation is ongoing. Interestingly, it took 18 months to get approval for the launch, quick, by government standards.

Still, this wasn’t just about the rocket. It was about proving Australia can build and launch its own spacecraft. That’s a huge step for our sovereign space capabilities.

Why Is Australia Launching Rockets?

Ares was aiming for the low-Earth orbit market, think satellites and short missions, not moon landings. This was a suborbital test, designed to go up and come back down. It succeeded in that goal, just not as high as hoped.

And here’s the exciting part: Australia is actually a great place to launch rockets.

We’re close to the equator, have stable geology, and low political risk. That makes us ideal for spaceports. Add in growing public interest and investment, and we’re looking at a booming space industry.

The Star Called Betelgeuse

While rockets were blowing up on Earth, astronomers were solving a mystery in the sky.

Meet Betelgeuse, one of the brightest stars visible at night. For over 100 years, scientists believed it might have a companion star, but they could never prove it, until now.

Using the Gemini North Telescope in Hawaii, a NASA team finally spotted it. The companion star, newly named “Kelu”, sits right near Betelgeuse’s outer edge.

“It’s amazing they found it,” Matt said. “Especially with how close it orbits.”

The name Kelu means “her bracelet” in Arabic, keeping with Betelgeuse’s name, which translates to “the hand of the giant.” It’s a poetic nod to the tradition of naming celestial objects with meaning and care.

What Does a Companion Star Do?

In this case, not much, except confirm a century’s worth of suspicion.

Still, the discovery is important. It proves that ground-based telescopes using advanced techniques like speckle imaging can detect faint stars near bright ones. That’s a big deal for future space observation.

Is Betelgeuse Going to Explode?

Eventually, yes.

Betelgeuse is a red supergiant, which means it’s in the final stage of its life. It’s burned through its hydrogen and will soon run out of fuel entirely.

“Think of stars like cars,” Matt explained. “The bigger they are, the faster they burn through fuel.”

While small stars like red dwarfs live for billions of years, giants like Betelgeuse last only tens of millions. Once it runs out of energy, Betelgeuse will collapse and explode in a massive supernova.

Don’t worry, though. Astronomers estimate that won’t happen for at least another 100,000 years.

But when it does, we’ll see it. The explosion will be so bright, it could be visible from Earth in the daytime.

Space Is Closer Than You Think

From local rocket launches to ancient stars nearing their end, space isn’t just out there it’s happening now. Whether it’s a cocky chewing on a fuel line or scientists spotting a faint companion star, these stories show us just how active, surprising, and exciting space really is.

Article supplied with thanks to Sonshine.

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