To be clear, this philosophy is not about acknowledging the right or wrong of something, nor sticking our heads in the sand and ignoring things. It’s all about how we react (and act) to things affecting us, often in the temporary but as we age, frequently in the inevitable.
One of the more perverse aspects of aging is the misalignment of a declining body with the memory of what was once possible. We’ve all been there: “No problem, I used to do this all the time.” Usually followed by the “Did you forget?!” protocol involving lots of ibuprofen and Ben Gay ointment as the sun sets on another “What was I thinking” day. Sigh.
My first dance with this concept came not long after my first back surgery in ‘04. After physical therapy concluded, I saw my surgeon for the last time to learn about post-surgery limitations:
“So … can I ride a motorcycle?”
“Absolutely not, and no horseback riding either.”
“No worries, I don’t do either.”
“And lift nothing over 20 pounds, plus avoid vertical shocks to your spine for at least a year.”
“Sure, no problem doc.”
As you might anticipate, this is going to be an “in one ear, out the other” story.
No horses or motorcycles were harmed since then, but three months post-surgery, I flew from Texas to see my girlfriend in New Hampshire for a planned trip to New York City. I didn’t connect the need to baby my lower back when I agreed to take the bus ride from her small New Hampshire town to the Big Apple.
The bus, almost full, forced us to sit in the back, where the ride comfort is the worst. It seemed to stop at every tiny town en route. After the five-hour bus ride, all the while feeling like a living lab experiment proving, “…for every action force by one object on another, there is an equal and opposite reaction force back [vertical shock!],” we arrived mostly in one piece. Beat the crap out of my repaired back and likely prolonged my recovery time.
Fast forward to the following summer (still months away from a year post-surgery). A friend asked if I could help him and a buddy move a hide-a-bed sofa to the second floor of his apartment. As I recall, my “I’m still a twenty-something” body declaration ignored my 40-something mind’s strenuous protest. Alas, that did not go well either.
Lessons learned.
Now, decades later, I’ve narrowed the common-sense gap between body and mind. I meet new challenges, body or situational, with a quick meeting of the two mes to determine if it’s in our control. If so, how can “we” adapt to this new challenge?
This approach is a core principle of stoic philosophy that extols focusing on how we react, act, and respond to something within our control. If it’s not something in our control, then let it go and move on. This does not mean ignoring it, but realizing our limitations so that anxiety, fear, and depression don’t drag us to dark places.
It’s never easy, always humbling, but results in a more peaceful approach to life’s hiccups. And of course, no more bouncy bus rides.
Periodic musings by Gary Varner. Always free. Subscribe for fresh, emailed new releases.
We’re on the same page, Gary! This end of life journey (cause let’s face it, that’s where we’re headed), is as mentally jarring as physically.