In the fallout from breast cancer treatment last year, my physical strength and flexibility has taken a big hit. This setback has been debilitating at times and certainly disappointing. It’s one of my “cut tulips.” Some necessary changes or subtraction of meds has helped since August, and just this week with a new rheumatologist, I feel some hope that I can been free of mild-to-moderate chronic pain soon. But some changes appear to be permanent.
In the throes of my woes, I have felt the need to identify and claim the kind of life I want to lead. So in good Naegeli fashion, I made a list:
What Kind of Life Do I Want?
• Manageable
• Healthy
• Spiritually grounded
• Financially content
• Clean and uncluttered
• Communal
• Ever-learning
So that I can be—
• Generous
• Productive
• Engaged
• Encouraging to the next generation
Some of these areas are realities already, but others—especially since the pandemic—need repair. I have set forth on a path to acquire this good life so that I can be the kind of person who gives freely, adds value to the world, connects with others, and passes wisdom and love to those younger than I am.
The need for this assessment comes out of the realization—shocking I tell you!—that I am getting older. Last week was the 25th anniversary of my dad’s death at age 68. Well, I am 68 now, too, and it is hitting me that my life goals are concentrated into fewer years than I could project in my twenties.
So now, when I say I want a life that is “manageable,” I mean I want my sphere of possessions, responsibility, and advancement (in knowledge and skills) to be sustainable. I dream of winning the $500M lottery, but really, having that much money would be totally unmanageable, even if I were to hire the staff required to invest and disburse it! So though I want to live in financially contentment and I want to be generous, I also want my life to be manageable. No lottery tickets for me!
When I say I want a life that is “healthy,” I want to take and perhaps adopt new steps in nutrition, exercise, and medical surveillance that will keep this engine humming a long time. As a two-time cancer survivor now, I have no fear that my life will someday close its earthly chapter and my body will die. So “healthy” does not equate to “living forever.” But I want to steward this body as best I can in the meantime, in wisdom and moderation, even as joints and muscles seem to be stiffening. I also want to have a healthy attitude toward my body and the process of aging, without complaining or whining. Billions of people through the ages have gone through this process before me.
Though—isn’t it interesting—Jesus died at age 33 or so. He was tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin, but he never grew old. I wonder how many older people have “told him a thing or two” in their struggles with mobility, hearing, or fatigue? And what of his earthly life experience helps Jesus identify with us at this stage of life? A question to ponder, though I do know that in fifty-one years of knowing Jesus Christ personally, I still think he knows me better than I know myself.
What would be on your list of how you want to be in this stage of life?