Minimize suffering; maximize joy

Underlying everything I experience now is a sense of futility, given that we're all just going to die anyway. I find myself unable to relate to people who are making plans for the future, whether they're adopting a child or starting a new career or moving to a different country. They see the potential for great joy and growth; I see the near-certainty of pain and worry and powerlessness, no matter which road we travel. Yeah, I think it's safe to say I'm a little depressed.

Sandy was active, vibrant, healthy when she was 43. Here, in
the summer of 2004, she's singing at a Microsoft party (above)
and (below) laying bricks for our new patio (with Allison).

When Sandy was my age, she was a couple of months into the 20/20 program, developing new habits, feeling great about the changes she was making. These were diet, exercise, and other lifestyle changes that promised a long and healthy life, remember. It was 2004. She was two years away from breast cancer and all that it stole from her; she hadn't even discovered that she enjoyed running yet, let alone lost it. 

Some days I feel good, strong, healthy, even young. But I don't trust it; I no longer expect that people can be healthy for long. At my age, Sandy was getting healthier, growing fitter. And she had only seven years of life left, two of them hindered by cancer and its treatment. Instead of thinking that I'd better get busy if I might only have seven years (or two or ten or twenty) left -- which is how my brain would have worked a few years ago, I think only how long and lonely those years are likely to be.

I was chasing these thoughts around last night, wondering once again why we live at all, if we're just bound to die. I've always believed that I'm here to make the world a better place, however I can. The incentive slips just a bit, though, when my vision changes from a world of vital, engaged beings and ecosystems to a place that is just a temporary stop for all creatures on their way to death.

So, why bother? And yet, what else would we do with this time we have? I came to the conclusion that my guiding principles ultimately should be (and really, always have been) to do whatever I can to minimize suffering and maximize joy. Just because life is fleeting doesn't mean it should be torturous, and joy is inherently beneficial. Working for the dignity of all people and creatures, tending to emotional and physical wounds, educating and enlightening people eager to learn, treating the planet and its resources with the respect they deserve and require, doing no harm. These are worthwhile endeavors for all of us, whether we live a few days or a century.

Despite my apparent depression (deepened by my current PMS, I'm sure), I think I can hold onto the idea of minimizing suffering and maximizing joy. It's simple, first-principles type of language that I can refer to as I contemplate my actions and my goals. And it may just give me the purpose I need to get through the time it takes to rediscover a sense of possibility.