Talk to people who are older than you.
Their views will be different but they have wisdom you can use. Besides, someday you will be in those shoes.
Getting Past What Holds You Back with Baby Boomer Weight Loss Expert Scott 'Q' Marcus
Their views will be different but they have wisdom you can use. Besides, someday you will be in those shoes.
Equally true is that we often put off what we need to do to achieve that objective, needing reminders of what really matters. Many times they are unpleasant. Some times, we’re just fortunate.
Ever since I was old enough to live on my own, my place of residence has always been at distance from the remainder of my family. I didn’t dislike them and we (mostly) got along well. It’s just that — I don’t know — I guess I’m the one from my clan who was most inclined to strike out for new horizons.
I’m actually not very adventurous. So it came as no small shock to my parents when, after graduating college, I threw what few possessions I could call my own into my 1973 Mazda RX2 and drove across the 115 degree Nevada desert — without air conditioning — to establish myself as the afternoon drive DJ for KEYY AM in Orem, Utah. I held no particular desire to live in the Beehive State; it just happened to be where I landed my first gig. Upon arrival, they immediately demoted me to the all-night slot and fired me six weeks later.
After that, I “played the hits” and spun classic vinyl throughout the west, eventually lighting on the Northcoast of California 30 years ago. I guess that qualifies me as “a resident,” and short of our airport, I love almost everything about this area and call it “home.” My family however still resides elsewhere.
In the past, it was always me, who at the end of a too-short visit, hugged my mother farewell, loaded suitcases into the car, and resumed my far-flung life, never successfully suppressing the wetness in my eyes.
The baton passes.
There are some things I’d like for the New Year. I know that’s not within your usual bailiwick, and you’re probably pooped from a long sleigh ride, but if you don’t mind…
My body carries me faithfully from before my birth until my last days. I abuse it and overuse it. I overfeed it and undersleep it. Yet rarely do I appreciate it. Nonetheless, it usually works amazingly well. It doesn’t seem to smile as much as I’d like (and it’s not quite the size I wanted) but in all modesty, it’s pretty cool.
My eyes can enjoy the magnificent pink of a rich sunset. My nose can inhale the deep, full scent of a spicy stew simmering slowly on a blustery winter afternoon. My ears perk up to the reassuring tap-tap-tap of light rain on my roof in the middle of the night. And the touch of a lover’s hand on my skin, can in a moment, calm and excite me at the same time.
Remind me that whatever else I have is worth nothing without my health. When I bend without pain or breathe deeply without effort, make me smile. Let me remember that this is the truest, purest blessing of all. Through this miracle of life, I experience all the universe has to offer.
There are those who came before me; and there are those for whom I am responsible whom I will never meet. Even so, we are connected. In that chain, I am a vital link, the entirety of all that has gone before me and the bedrock of generations still unborn. Each in that string is a part of me as I am of them. We are all of the same stuff.
Through the ages and across the miles; today, yesterday, and tomorrow; we will guide each other when we are lost, and we will pick each other up when we fall. Everything I do reflects upon my ancestors and shapes my children of future offspring. I am inextricably connected across time. Remind me each day to take time for my family.
If there were neither barriers nor obstacles from birth until death, what could one person truly do in his or her time on Earth?
Over one person’s lifespan, he could build understanding between countries, generating bonds among millions. Should he choose the healing arts, one soul could cure millions on multiple continents, elevating especially the elderly and the young. One man, or one woman, could raise populations from poverty, or tutor multiple generations to read, enlarging possibilities well beyond his days. In one lifecycle, great inventions will be created, political movements will be forged, wars might be averted, and peace could take root. One person, one lifetime, with so much possibility…
Yet, what if there was but one decade?