Positively Uncertain
Experts, including those frequently quoted by AI, proclaim you can add years to your life by thinking positively about your future.
Not one to argue, but interested in prolonging the years I continue breathing the semi-polluted air of my current environment, I have taken on the task of investigating what my thoughts have to do with my lifespan.
The best I can determine is that thoughts lead to actions, which lead to healthier or unhealthier habits, which may prolong or shorten one’s life.
If this is a bit confusing, let me try to confuse you even more. My limited understanding of the premise is this: If you think life won’t get better, you sit down, limit your activities, read articles and books about disappointment, death, failure, and other less-thanuplifting topics, then talk yourself into giving up while isolating yourself.
However, if you tell yourself you are fine and things will get better, you make appointments at the health center, take up walking, and engage with other people who are also moving around. Somehow, your positive thoughts turn into movement and improvement.
How, or even whether, this actually works remains a bit unsettling to me.
Say on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday I’m happy, thinking positively, and certain my broken ankle will cease and desist sending painful messages to my brain. But on the other three days of the week, my inner voice is screaming pain, fear, doom, and disaster.
Does this mean my life increases by only a small fraction of time? And will those added moments be pain-filled, or will they be blissfully better?
That question hangs in the air of uncertainty and remains unanswered. Apparently, positive thinking has become another life assignment to be completed, and I’m tired of doing projects. My current assignments include exercising, socializing, eating correctly, sleeping properly, remembering appointments, and now, apparently, I’m to think cheerfully.
The best I can do on any given day is try to convince myself I will not spend the rest of my life hobbling around, taking shorter steps, and cursing my throbbing ankle as I walk Jaxson while he sniffs and marks every bush and pole we pass. Will I receive a failing grade or a shorter life? Who knows? The experts don’t. And despite its positive attitude, neither does AI.