When You Can’t Do A, Do B: Location, Mindset, and the Path to Healing

One of the most important lessons in healing from mold and chemical injury is that location matters more than most people realize. It isn’t only the walls of a house that make someone sick, though that is often the starting point. Over time, the body can become sensitized not just to the mold or pollutants inside a single building but to the entire region where that exposure has taken place. The very air, the water, the soil, the industry, the crops, the way a place is managed—all of it adds up, and the body remembers. Region can be as sensitizing as a house. We are now seeing more and more research pointing to outdoor biotoxins such as pesticides and herbicides being linked to higher rates of diseases like Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s. And for the person who has lost the ability to tolerate toxins, it no longer matters whether the toxin is moldy drywall, exhaust fumes, or sprayed chemicals on the cornfield down the road. The body perceives them all as threats.

This is why location changes are so critical, and why staying in the same environment while waiting to get better often keeps people trapped. The difficulty is that location change sounds enormous, and for people already overwhelmed, it feels impossible. The mind leaps to worst-case scenarios: “I have to sell everything, buy an RV, move across the country, start over from scratch.” That kind of thinking freezes people in place. What gets overlooked is the power of little steps. The breathing room comes not from plotting out the perfect escape but from testing small moves that bring just enough clarity to take the next step.

We often call this island hopping. At first, it might be as simple as checking into a hotel room on the other side of town for two nights, just to see how the air feels when you wake up. It might mean pitching a tent in a state park, or finding a clean campsite where you can breathe deeply and let your body quiet down for a week. It might mean driving to the beach and letting the salt wind clear your lungs and your head, even if only for an afternoon. These small moves break the cycle of wheel-spinning. They give the body a taste of what relief feels like. That clarity becomes the compass, showing you where to place your foot next.

When people skip over the small steps, they often end up stuck in what looks like planning but is really paralysis. They make long lists, they research endlessly, they imagine dramatic resets that feel unachievable, and in the meantime they stay in the very place that is harming them. This is not their fault. Mycotoxins themselves are neurotoxic. The fog, the confusion, the inability to make decisions, the sense of being trapped—these are symptoms of the illness, not character flaws. It is the cruelest trick of all: the same toxins that harm the body also disable the ability to think clearly about how to escape them.

That is why small steps matter so much. Think of it like being in a burning house. If you sat down to design the perfect fire escape plan, you might not make it out at all. The house doesn’t wait. The flames don’t pause for your blueprint. What saves you is not the plan but the act of getting out. Mold recovery works the same way. You don’t need to solve everything all at once. You need enough clarity to keep moving, one small island at a time. Each shift, each day away, each breath of cleaner air chips away at the overwhelm. And soon those small steps turn into bigger ones—because once you feel what relief is like, you’ll know it’s possible, and you’ll keep moving toward it.

We learned this lesson a long time ago while working with horses. We’ve lived, loved, and trained them for decades, and if there’s one thing horses teach you, it’s that mindset is everything. In training, you might go in expecting that today is the day you’ll make progress, only to find yourself facing what horse people sometimes call the dreaded third day. The horse acts like they have forgotten everything from the first two, and suddenly what you had planned is impossible. You could push harder, but ignoring what the horse is feeling and showing you that day only puts both of you in danger. The better way is to take a breath and say, “Alright, we can’t do A today. What can we do instead?” That one shift in mindset opens a door—for the horse, and for you.

Healing from mold works the same way. We couldn’t uproot our family and move across the country with a herd of horses at the drop of a hat. But we could rent fields, stay in tents and hotels and then live in a camper. We could change something small, and that opened the next door. Over time, as we kept stepping, new doors opened. It’s a shift of mindset: when you can’t do the thing you wish you could, you do the thing you can. And when you shift your mindset, you can move your feet. And when you move your feet, you can start to get better.

Further Reading & Resources

• Miserandino, Christine. The Spoon Theory. ButYouDontLookSick.com (2003). Original essay introducing the Spoon Theory.

  
  
  
  

• Miller, Claudia S. Toxicant-Induced Loss of Tolerance: An Emerging Theory of Disease? Environmental Health Perspectives 105(Suppl 2), 1997. Foundational article on TILT syndrome.

  
  
  
  

• Shoemaker, Ritchie C. Surviving Mold: Life in the Era of Dangerous Buildings. Otter Bay Books, 2010.

  
  
  
  

• Nathan, Neil. Toxic: Heal Your Body from Mold Toxicity, Lyme Disease, Multiple Chemical Sensitivities, and Chronic Environmental Illness. Victory Belt, 2018.

  
  
  
  

• Goldman, S.M. et al. “Genetic Modification of the Association of Paraquat and Parkinson’s Disease.” Movement Disorders, 2012.

  
  
  
  

• Richardson, J.R. et al. “Pesticide exposure and risk of Alzheimer’s disease: a prospective cohort study.” JAMA Neurology, 2014.

  
  
  
  

• Donnay, Albert. Carbon Monoxide & TILT Research. MCSrr.org.

  
  
  
  

• Linda Kohanov. The Tao of Equus: A Woman’s Journey of Healing and Transformation through the Way of the Horse. New World Library, 2001.

  
  
  
  

• Buck Brannaman. The Faraway Horses. Lyons Press, 2003.

  
  
  
  

• Mark Rashid. Considering the Horse: Tales of Problems Solved and Lessons Learned. Johnson Books, 1993.