I am writing today following the passing of my brother-in-law, Peter. He lost the battle—a rather aggressive battle—with ALS.
I am an exercise physiologist. So, of course, I am interested in the connections between physical activity and health—specifically, longevity. Teaching a Pathophysiology for Sports Medicine course years ago at Eastern Michigan University, it fast became apparent that there are two particular actions that one can take to minimize the risk of disease and to improve the prognosis of disease. These are to exercise and stop (never start) smoking. It is quite simple.
I emphasize the Spiritual-Physical connection. We cannot separate our Purpose, our connection with the Universe, our role in the lives of those closest to us (and the lives they, in turn, contact), our genetics (and epigenetics), our environment, and our Physical habits (diet, exercise, etc.). This is why I believe in “well-centered fitness”.
In reality, we can do all the right things, yet we can never know what tomorrow will bring. (Peter was quite active and fit. Overall, he had a fairly balanced life.) We can only live for today (carpe diem) and in the moment (carpe momento). I do not write on the topics of well-centered fitness as an expert. Rather, I write as one who struggles to live my life the best I possible can—often (frequently) falling short.
Life presents no certainties—“except death and taxes” (Benjamin Franklin). We can do our best to live long and well, but anything can happen. So, there are really only two choices in life: be present in the moment or waste the moment worrying about tomorrow. Jesus encouraged his followers: “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Matthew 6:34, NIV). In other words, carpe momento.
I have been considering lately the extent to which I am present (or more appropriately: not present) for others and the space I allow for others to let their souls speak—to be more other-centered. As one considers one’s mortality and the uncertainty of tomorrow, it is easy to become self-centered. I would not argue that it is important to care for one’s own person and personal needs. The Spiritual self and the Physical self are not incongruent. We cannot be other-centered without first being self-centered—and vice versa. In many ways, I am coming to see this as the Spiritual self and the Physical self.
We do our best to care for the Physical self (or we should). We eat healthy nourishing foods. We exercise. We maintain a healthy body composition. We get adequate rest and relaxation. We avoid distress and injury. We do all that we can to prolong the life we have.
We must likewise care for the Spiritual self. This requires care of the Physical self, by also one’s Intellectual, Emotional, and Social well-being. Caring for the Spiritual self also suggests that we understand that we have a unique role in the Universe. This means that, rather than ask the question “Why?” when bad things happen (or, as Arthur Ashe suggested, when good things happen), we ask the question “Why not?” Additionally—and more importantly—we ask: “For what Purpose?”
Most often the answer to the question of Purpose is never revealed until much later, as time works together the events of our lives. I liken this to trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle without the benefit of the picture on the box. We might stare forever at the same puzzle piece trying to figure out where it is supposed to go without considering how the image on the puzzle piece fits with the pieces that are already placed and the bigger picture. With regard to the events of our lives, it may never be ours to fully understand. The actual Purpose may be at the end of a long cascade of events far removed from the origin. The Purpose may have a series of purposes affecting a multitude of people. One can never fully know why the events of our lives occur. Even the benefit of hindsight might only give a glimpse of the Purpose.
There is an “opportunity cost” to worrying about tomorrow. Our greatest opportunity in life is to live life—to live in the moment and experience the present in the community of others and for the purpose of others. We do our best to plan, but we have no control over tomorrow. We can only control the moment in which we stand. Surely, our actions in this moment will affect the next, and it is most fulfilling and most affective to live in the experience of the moment rather than in the fear or anticipation of the next.
We can never foresee what will be given to or taken away from us and/or the people we love. When we lose someone we love, the tendency is to want to focus on what we won’t have rather than on what we had. We dwell on what we are losing rather than what is coming. We must focus on the moment we are in and not miss anything that is offers. The pain, sorrow, fear, anxiety, loss,…, gratitude, relief, happiness, and joy we experience are now. Carpe momento.