The secrets of living well and dying happy
When I first came across a book titled "The Five Secrets You Must Discover Before You Die," I brushed it aside. Are there really secrets to living well? The title struck me as another attempt to package ancient wisdom into a self-help formula.
After all, people have wrestled with this question for a long time. Aristotle pondered what constitutes a good life. He argued that true happiness comes from fulfilling one's potential and living with purpose and virtue. A meaningful life, he suggested, is not measured by wealth or status but by becoming the best version of oneself through work, creativity, service and meaningful relationships.
The question has accompanied me throughout my adult life. What was my life meant to fulfill? What was I uniquely supposed to accomplish in this world?
Later, I encountered the writings of Viktor Frankl, a student of Freud and a survivor of Nazi concentration camps. Frankl believed that the search for meaning is the ultimate human drive. His insight resonated deeply with me. As I grow older, I find myself returning to these questions. How do we discover the secrets of living well and dying happy? Perhaps this growing curiosity is one of the signs of old age.
Like many people, I have spent much of my life striving to live well — as a daughter, wife, mother, citizen, neighbor, friend and professional. I have learned that a good life is not a life without hardship. Such a life does not exist. What matters is how we respond to adversity and whether we can learn, adapt and continue to find meaning despite life's disappointments and losses.
Of all the people I have known, one person stands out as someone who truly lived well and died happy. His name was Ward.
Ward died at the age of 98. During more than 50 years of friendship, I observed a man who seemed remarkably at peace with himself and the world around him. He was authentic in a way that is rare. He did not pretend to be someone he was not. He was simply Ward. Whenever we went hiking or camping together, he repeated the same phrase with conviction: "Life is good. I am a happy man."
I can still picture him sitting on a mountaintop after a long climb. As soon as he took the first bite of his peanut butter and jam sandwich, he would smile and declare, "Life is good." It became his mantra, but it never sounded rehearsed. He truly meant it.
Ward taught me that happiness is not found in extraordinary circumstances. It is found in appreciating ordinary moments.
One of the "secrets" mentioned in the book is to live fully in the present moment. Henry David Thoreau expressed a similar idea when he wrote about "improving the nick of time." We often hear the saying, "Every day is a gift." Yet how often do we actually live that way?
This spring, my crabapple tree has burst into bloom more abundantly than ever before. Its branches are covered with clusters of white blossoms, while bees buzz from flower to flower. The tree has stood in our front yard for years, yet this year I seem to notice it more. Perhaps the blossoms are not more beautiful than before. Perhaps I am simply paying closer attention.
Ward bought his clothes at secondhand stores. He rode an old bicycle to his college reunions. He delighted in a spoonful of chocolate ice cream. Sitting among friends, he would smile and say once again, "I am a happy old man. Life is good."
What made this attitude remarkable was that Ward was financially successful. By any conventional standard, he was wealthy. Yet he never displayed his wealth. There was no need to impress anyone.
Whenever he traveled by air, he purchased an economy-class ticket. One day I asked him why he did not upgrade to first class, especially given his height of six feet four inches. "That might be more comfortable," he replied, "but we arrive at the destination at the same time."
His answer revealed a lifetime of wisdom condensed into a single sentence.
Ward understood the difference between comfort and happiness, between possessing more and needing less. He practiced what many people only preach. He lived by his values. He donated substantial portions of his investment income to organizations dedicated to protecting the environment. He believed that wealth carried responsibility, and he quietly acted on that belief.
Looking back, I am no longer so quick to dismiss the idea that there may be secrets to living well and dying happy. If there are, Ward discovered several of them: Be true to yourself. Love and be loved. Live in the present moment. Find joy in simple things. Use what you have to help others. Most importantly, learn to say, with sincerity and gratitude, "Life is good. I am a happy person."
Ward said those words throughout his life. In the end, he proved them true.
Shin Freedman is a retired academic who now writes about aging, solitude, technology and the quiet revolutions of modern life.