I’m sitting in a doctor’s office, waiting for my annual check up.
It’s an interesting concept, an annual check up. For me, it comes in January, when many people are doing some sort of reviewing and planning anyway. It’s a time for resolutions and regrets. And for remembering.
Although my blood sugar remains unusually high, my own health has been good—given a history of colitis and bronchitis, both of which seem to be dormant if not dead. In fact, I’ve only had one significant interaction with the medical establishment since last January, when the hospital in Florida called to tell me my dad had died unexpectedly of a heart attack at the age of 70.
I need to tell my doctor about that, of course. It changes my health history and strategies. But in fact it changes everything. It changes my understanding of self and purpose. It changes my thinking about wellness, and about wealth and about worship.
I have more to think about than those three issues. But in terms of setting priorities and defining limits three is enough to think about for one year. Especially the year I turn 50.