A good friend of mine died recently, and I was confused about how I handled it. It was a shock for sure, as his passing was unexpected. But then, because he wasn’t part of my day-to-day life, the feeling wore off quickly. I felt guilty that I was getting on with my life so fast. Death affects us in different ways and depends on a variety of factors, but it will always be a part of our lives. We all have to experience it; like anything else, it’s healthy to do it intentionally.
Change is a good thing. But, sheesh, enough already.
Last year, I retired from a job I held for 36 years and am devoting myself to Blocks of Life full-time. I’m still in the midst of that transition, but I’m barely making the top five in terms of the transitions around me. My wife is retiring next week, my mother is turning 90 (also next week), and my son recently began his first full-time job. Needless to say, parties abound, and I’m just trying to keep up. Transitions are the specific manifestations of an evolving life. Although they can cause anxiety and are not always thought of in a completely positive light, they should always be celebrated.
What is the best thing that could happen?
When an opportunity or a challenge arises, do you first consider the risks or the potential rewards? Both are important, but you will likely give one or the other more sway in your thought process. In some decisions, the risks or downsides are evident and significant; it is never logical to deny the existence of the risks. However, the focus should be squarely on the upside in instances where the rewards outweigh or are worth the risks. A “best thing” mindset can keep you focused on the upside of situations while giving sufficient attention to the potential downside.
A friend and I were having a light conversation this past weekend around a fire pit, and a subject came up on which we disagreed. He and I differ in our opinions that largely follow political leanings. We had never talked about it, but I had heard him say some things that made his politics reasonably clear. When he said something that I disagreed with, my first reaction was, “Oh, shit, there goes the relaxed atmosphere.” But then I thought, “Why can’t we have an honest disagreement and not make it personal or political?” It is possible, although seemingly less and less achievable these days. So I gave it a shot. In a very polite way, I said that I was in favor of something that he thought was wrong. And a miracle happened! He said, “Well then, we should agree to disagree,” noting that he hated how hard it was to do that these days. It was fantastic. We dropped the subject and got on with our enjoyable evening.
What does luxury mean to you? For many, the idea conjures the trappings of wealth—maybe yachts, private planes, or opulent houses. But are these things luxurious in and of themselves? Once you get beyond these trappings’ flashiness and comfort, you must still have a meaningful life to make them enjoyable. And you may find that if you do have a meaningful life, you don’t need this brand of luxury. Simple pleasures can be considered luxurious and don’t involve the cost, maintenance, or hassle of the more lavish luxuries. What are the luxurious things in your life? Do they give you pleasure, or must they be connected to other parts of your life, such as friends, to add meaning?