Live like you won't live forever

“Teach us to realize the brevity of life,
    so that we may grow in wisdom."

~ Psalm 90:12


Earlier this week I had my check up with my doctor. As part of the exam he took my blood pressure, looked at the results from my blood test regarding cholesterol, brought up a chart on his computer, and stated: "You have a 5% chance of having a heart attack in the next ten years."

There was a pause, and then he continued, "That's a really low number. We start getting concerned when it get close to 20%. You have great blood pressure and low cholesterol numbers, so things are looking good."

I wish he had led with that last statement. It would have saved a flurry of thoughts that came to me in the brief pause between "heart attack" and "things are looking good."

At 50 years old, I find thoughts of mortality come to me more often than they used to. Not morbid thoughts, just the realization that as I get older I cannot do the same things in the same way I used to in my 20s and 30s. I can still play soccer and ultimate, but not like I used to. I can still run long distances, but not like I used to. I can still shovel snow, but as I learned yesterday, not like I used to.

I also think about my health more. Again, not morbidly or incessantly, but it has become a factor in my choices. In my 20s I didn't really care about the impact my choices had on my health. Doughnuts for breakfast? Sure, why not. Jump down from something really high? Sure, why not. And what's sunscreen?

Now at 50, I do think about how my choices affect my wellbeing, and not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.

The biggest gift a growing sense of mortality has given me is the emphasis on joy. How much I enjoy something has become an increasing factor in what I do.

For example, when younger me went for a run, I would focus on pace and distance and push myself to go faster and farther every time. I have mentioned before how this mindset led me to an unhealthy place and I had to take a break from running for a season of life. 

Today, I still run, but I run because I enjoy it. I run slower, I walk whenever I feel like it (younger me would never have allowed myself to take a walking break unless it was planned), and I stop when my body has reached its limit. I won't push through that limit, because I've learned that's where injuries tend to happen.

Beyond physical activity, I am more likely to attend events I think I'll enjoy while avoiding those that drain me, I cultivate relationships that infuse life, and I mostly pursue only the things I find interesting. Thankfully, I also care less about what others think about me than I did in my 20s.

Just to be clear, I'm not promoting hedonism or a lifestyle of "do only what feels good to you." I know there are still times for sacrificial choices where I may not want to do something but choose to do so because it is a good, kind, or loving thing to do for myself, others, or the world. I generally choose healthy foods, even when I want the "heart attack special" on the menu. There are times I exercise even when I don't really want to, because it's good for me. And there are also times I press in to a spiritual discipline even though I'd rather be on Youtube.

My point is simply that the realization that I am a mortal human being has increased with age, and it has given me much more than it has taken. Yes, I cannot do the same things the same way like I used to, but I enjoy the things I do more. 

PAUSE and REFLECT: 

Humanity tends to lament its mortality, but as the opening verse expresses, the realization of our impermanence is a gift. It has a way of moving us toward wisdom, and wisdom is integral for a flourishing life. I would definitely say I am flourishing more at 50 than I was at 25. 

How are you living your life? I know we know we're mortal, but knowing you won't live forever is very different from living like you won't live forever.

Are you striving after vapour, trying to please someone who does not care about you, or spending an inordinate amount of time doing the things you (or others) think you should do instead of pursuing things that breath joy and life into your soul? Are you stuck on living selfishly rather than wisely? 

This may be the invitation you need to consider the fact that you are going to die (one day). If that day were today, or tomorrow, would you be happy with the way you've lived your life to this point? If the answer is no, then perhaps a change is in order.

Sometimes, when we walk into a shared communal space, we find a sign that says something like, "Please leave this space in better condition than you found it." I think the same thing can be said for our life in the world and the people in our lives. It can also be said about the way we treat ourselves.

When our mortality rises up to meet us, it's offering us a beautiful gift.  How might you embrace this gift today?