I was watching Gladiator 2 with my family the other day, and it swirled my mind to the Stoics and Marcus Aurelius, who said, “Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now take what’s left and live it properly.” 

I’ve been left wondering with myself if I’ve met the test, if I’m living it properly, and making all the moments count. What if I could start over again, knowing what I know now? I think I already know the answer… I can. 

These last few months have been filled with lots of loss. It has sometimes felt like the
world is going to fall. The personal and profound are colliding all around—my dad passing, 3 days later, Meghan’s mom, the same. And look at our streets. There’s already a war going on, even if no one wants to call it that by name. We don’t have to look to Ukraine and Russia or Israel and Iran. It’s in our backyards here at home, in our schools and places of business, and in our own hearts, evidenced by the awful fact that 1/3 of Americans are doing just about whatever they can to alienate, displace, or kill another 1/3 of our people. At the same time, another 1/3 sits back and watches.

And yet, at the same time, my beautiful boy Nolan is turning 13, so we celebrate life by living. We go to baseball games. We hit the pool. We vacation with an ignorant bliss that understands we better not look too far beneath the surface or open too many closets, or we might have to confront our enemies within who are living and breathing in our own minds and hearts that don’t want to admit that the shit has already hit the fan. 

It’s these dichotomous realities, between a life of celebration and of mourning, that I find myself wondering what I’m supposed to do in this world, how I’m supposed to feel, who I’m destined to be. What is hanging in the balance is civilization, order, justice, equity, and, well, sanity. What we are doing now isn’t working. There’s plenty of blame to go around, but I’m personally sick of hearing about how Democrats are communists and Republicans are fascists. In my view, they all suck. Maybe some more than others, for sure, but in sum, all of our leaders are failing us. We’ve given them all too much power. How can what we are all witnessing end well?

It seems like it’s time for the people, you and me, all of us, to take back our world. Unfortunately, though, the old house is probably going to have to be leveled so a new foundation can be built. I’m just a dad, a yogi, a teacher, a writer, what am I supposed to do here? This is where I hear old Marcus Aurelius whispering in my ear, so I find myself wanting to disengage, to drop out, to recognize the fact that this life I’ve been living is already over and that it’s time for revolution. There can be no resurrection without a crucifixion first. So much of my adult life has been corrupted by 24-hour news, by vice, and by the moments of Lack of truth and virtue, of grace and joy, and health and wellness. 

I wish there could be a reset button. 

I’ve seen enough movies now about parents switching places with their kids to know a little bit about the desire for the old to be young again. But now, too, with what I know (and don’t know) about the quantum, which means everything I learned in Interstellar, it may actually be possible to be in multiple bodies, in multiple places, at multiple times, all at the same time.

As Nolan turns 13, I find myself reliving myself, not through him, but within me. Deep in this space inside, I can feel even more of myself, and yet I still have enough awareness that it’s not all of me. It sounds funny to say it, but 13-year-old me is still here. He’s not a memory, but a reality. Or when I listen to a Phish jam in 2025, I can still feel like I’m 20 and feeling it at Deer Creek or Alpine Valley in the late 90s. The body feels what the mind tells it. But now I want something more; yet I know I have to be stoic, like Aurelius, to accomplish the impossible by making peace with myself that can endure. It requires a discipline I don’t yet possess —a tapas of focus, a brahmacharya of restraint, a svadhyaya of concentration and study—all elements of Lack in my life today—problems that must be transformed into practices.

If I died yesterday and was born again today, I like to think I would live for love, for family, and for treating myself and others like the temples we all are. I would breathe deeper, speak more softly and kindly, be more patient, and stand up for what I know is right, lifting up as many as I can along the way. If I could be 13 again, I’d try to steer myself away from anger and toward understanding. If I could be 13 again, I would lift myself up more, say nicer things to myself, believe in my own voice more, and not be so afraid to share its authenticity with others. So, if today is the first day of the rest of my life, I pray that I can live it well—as a husband, father, friend, yogi, and man. 

There is no time like the present. 

By Ryan Allen

Lumin Therapy offers integrative health and education for the mind, body, and spirit to individuals who are suffering or struggling to discover and step into their heartfelt mission and purpose. Through the practice of physical therapy, medical therapeutic yoga, meditation, mindfulness, and resiliency mentoring, Dr. Meghan Nelson, DPT, and Dr. Ryan Allen, PhD, bring their more than 40 combined years of knowledge and experience serving individuals, families, and organizations to learn,  heal, and live without boundaries.