We are living in a time of enormous flux on many fronts, with some of these changes seeming to happen hourly. Whole work sectors are shrinking; careers that people have thrived in for decades are vanishing, not to mention the changing climate and the reordering of the world as we once knew it. For even the most stable and grounded among us, digesting this tsunami of unpredictability is near impossible. Focusing on what we can’t control, by seeing ourselves as wayward jetsam being powerlessly tossed about by these waves of change, can lead us to never want to leave the comforting warmth of our morning bed. One of the signs of depression is a feeling of powerlessness and a lack of agency over one’s life. This can get quite serious, locking us in a paralyzing rut of self-doubt, which, if unchecked, can go on for a lifetime.

Even though most of the world is a place we can’t control, this doesn’t mean we should stick our heads in the sand and ignore it; it is simply an acceptance that we only have so much power over these immense storms we are living in. We can, however, take action and focus on what we do that has a direct effect—what we say, what we do, and who we are around. Actions are an antidote to paralysis. Just doing something—anything, really—that will improve your situation to even the slightest extent will absorb some of the anxiety around it. Get up, make your bed the best you have ever done, and look at it and feel proud. Simply put, actions change our mindset. We feel better when we perceive we have agency in a situation, and even if the action doesn’t solve the situation, we can learn from it and feel we have done something. That something will lead to another something. Doing nothing leads to—you guessed it—nothing.

I have never been able to think myself into doing the right action. When I am upset, no amount of naval gazing will work to the extent that moving my feet and doing something about it will. The prescription for me is more doing and less worrying. Some people can sit quietly and change their worldview; this super-human capacity is beyond me. Worrying’s benefit is to motivate me to act. Taking action—any action—restores a sense of agency and inspires me to expand my horizons beyond what may have been invisible a moment ago. Having a sense of agency is foundational to having an optimistic mindset. An optimistic mindset tells you there are possibilities; a pessimistic one, not so much. If things are tough, and believe me I know all too well that deep pit of fear and doubt, try to remember you have options. You may not see them yet, but they are there. Our abilities and outcomes are not set in stone; we have brains, and we can learn and adapt, and we can do things. When in doubt, be kind to others, which will help you see yourself more kindly. That we exist is a marvel worth cherishing.

Onward and upward, 

David

Meditation for many is hard. I tried for over 10 years, trying every flavor and teacher I could find—zen monks, Christian retreats, new-age gong ceremonies, and hiring teachers. I was a very, very slow learner, and it was so difficult to stay still, but I knew I needed to get some level of, if not control, at least awareness of the endlessly distracting chatter in my mind. Eventually, I used an app and a habit formed. For the last 15 years, pretty much every day, I start my day with 12 minutes of meditation. It has been life-changing, probably the single most impactful thing I have ever learned to do.

This habit allows me some amount of space between me receiving a stimulus and me reacting; for example, a man bumps me on the subway, and instead of some sort of reactive response, there is nothing. That said, I am still highly reactive and far from mellow, but it is better now. There is more peace in my brain than there was before. Because I have some level of control over my thoughts, I can also imagine and visualize more clearly. Up until recently, I was a competitive ski racer (yes, I recognize this does not exactly align with health span and longevity, but that is another story). In competitive sports, one will lose. Even world champions don’t run the table; they will miss a shot, strike out, crash in a race, and all these things have an emotional impact. If one is stuck ruminating over one’s shortcomings, it is game over—you can not perform when locked in a self-esteem hell hole. Meditation helps us learn to break out of the rut of ruminating and move forward. It gives us a needed break from ourselves.

Some people have the mistaken idea that meditation is for the weak. I studied martial arts for five years and held some rank. The most accomplished people there, the ones you really did not want to spare with, were the hardcore meditators. We beginners had no idea that what seemed to us like the magical ability to slow down time and move with jungle-cat speed was to a large extent their ability to be totally in the moment. The elite warfighters I have spoken to also tend to be meditators. These are Seal Team people, not exactly weak or unmotivated. This idea—that mediation is a waste of time—is held, for some reason, more often by men than women. And it is not true. Meditating is indeed a form of giving up, but it is giving up the handicap of the useless looping obsessions in our minds, and moving to becoming better at being the person you could be. Pro tip: The endless, noisy chatter in our minds, that we may feel is our entirety, may not actually be true. There is more there that we can’t sense unless we turn down the volume on the other mental static.

Onward and upward,

David

When Ozempic and the related GLP-1 drugs came out—having seen the data on muscle wasting, gastrointestinal problems, and the radical bounce back in weight gain when the drugs were stopped—I was very much the skeptic. For diabetics and those who are severely overweight, these trade-offs seemed worth it, as the drugs were life-changing and life-saving. But these drugs were looking like the Fen-Phen of our time, a huge class-action lawsuit waiting to happen. My view has since shifted. As Malcolm Gladwell has said, one of the advantages of having a brain is we can change our minds. Over the last several months, I have had discussions with several medical professionals who have been sending me data on the positive, unanticipated effects of GLP-1s beginning to show up in studies: Alzheimer's, Parkinson’s, osteoarthritis, addiction, and certain cancers seem to be reduced with GLP-1 drugs. There’s something about the anti-inflammatory effects of these drugs that seems to be very helpful. They theorize that the effects could happen at lower doses, and microdosing is being discussed. No one is quite sure about the dosing, what happens when one stops, and other crucial information yet; more studies are needed. I am not a doctor, and I am not in any way suggesting you try these; what I am saying is that when new information arises, it is a good idea to check it out, even if it flies in the face of what our current beliefs are. Pharma has a deservedly dodgy reputation, and off-target effects are almost always to the downside, but good surprises can also happen.

For those interested, here are a few studies to look into (here, here, and here). What everyone has cautioned me on, though, is that at any dose, strength training is an absolute requirement, as is paying attention to one’s protein intake. It is unclear if when taken as microdoses, the small appetite suppression also impacts muscle loss, but there is a good chance that it does. This is one of my original problems with these drugs—a large percentage of the weight loss was from muscle, and, if one is older, building muscle can be a challenge. If one did not strength train, and lost a good amount of muscle, and then came off the drugs, the weight gain would be almost entirely fat—and then the person would be muscle-wasted and overweight. As a reminder, muscle here is not about looking sharp at the beach. It is critical to living a long and healthy life.

The entire longevity industry is ripe with intersecting belief systems. Some feel we have no right to live longer than intended. I wonder how these people feel about antibiotics. Then there are those in the transhumanism immortality camp who feel it is possible and dutiful to escape death. I have yet to see the first immortal. Neither seems to be dealing with a full deck. There is a very good chance we will all be living longer and healthier than we imagined. It was not so long ago that 65 was considered ancient. At 66, I in no way feel ancient. I also don’t feel immortal. There will be an end. With the advances in AI-assisted targeted drug research, among many other positive advances, there is a good chance I am only halfway through my life. My current thinking is to do the best I can to keep my organ systems in the best shape possible so that I will be able to access whatever innovations come along. At the same time, there is always a new shiny drug, therapy, or treatment that may seem immensely promising. If there is no apparent downside, maybe check it out after you speak to a medical professional. But from everything I have studied, it’s really the basics that move the needle: sleep, fitness, nutrition, stress management, and purpose. It is an exciting time to be alive, so let’s be here for as much of it as we can be.

Onward and upward,

David

Some lessons take endless reminders, like remembering to drink enough water every day. We forget, and worse, with some things, we are constantly running up against them because of our hardwired negativity biases—a trait that may have been a lifesaver when dealing with a roaming saber tooth tiger but is a huge hindrance to better living now in the modern age.

Last week, my wife and I took a few days off and went to Florida for that tried and true snowbird winter break from the cold of a Northeast winter. Miami is one of those places I assumed I was done with, having lived there for a year a couple of decades ago. If we must go to Florida, maybe we could explore the Keys? It was suggested by my wife to have an open mind and, perhaps, there was a place we could go that would give us the calming retreat vibe I wanted along with the ease of getting to and from the Miami airport. Let’s see what a wellness hotel could be. We chose The Carillon Hotel, correctly labeled as a “wellness hotel.” More on the lovely wellness Carillon experience soon, but the short story is since the hotel is located not in go-go South Beach but in quieter North Beach, my desire for tranquility was fully satisfied.

Places change, just as we also change. What was may not be anymore. There are a number of advantages to having a long memory filled with a lifetime of experiences; there are, however, a few distinct disadvantages. If we are not careful, we will be making decisions based on old information and closing off curiosity about what may be today’s reality. What we found in North Miami Beach was a vibrant community, mostly of people my age and many much older, who were fit, vital, and stylish. My fellow guests ranged from some 30-something couples to girlfriends on vacations to grandparents with grown kids to some amazingly attired older folks. It was rather wonderful to not only be the oldest person in the room at times but also to admire my fellow beach-goers in boom-box-free oceanside tranquility. If we expect a positive outcome, rather than searching for what can go wrong, maybe imagine what could go right, which will help keep our minds open, and we can then escape the trap of less-than-useful historical knowledge.

Onward and upward,

David

Some people seem to be born with a deep understanding of what works for them; for others, time gives us an education in ourselves. It would seem that one of the great missions in our lives is to become clear on what works for us, to know what makes us happy, and then, just as important, to act on this knowledge. Know thyself, says the wise man. I spent the first 20 years of my life oscillating between boredom and boredom-induced depression. It was all I knew. Then, slowly, a bigger life came into view. This took considerable time, decades in fact; having grown up in a small farm town, my lack of imagination of what was out there in the world, what was possible, was immense.

That town, the people I grew up with, and my family could have been idyllic for someone else, but for me, it was a box, only I hadn’t yet figured out there was life outside of it. The red thread that connects my life since then, and continues to lead me, is growth. Some people like money, some people like to stay how they are, some people are all about serenity. For me, it's about asking: Does this thing make me feel better about myself? Am I growing? If one needs a monomania, this is a pretty good one. Which is why I can’t handle television—it fills me with an intolerable combination of boredom and anxiety. White Lotus lasted maybe 30 seconds for me. (This is not to call out this show in particular; the whole genre just doesn’t work for me.)

It is important to not only know what works for you, but then to act on it. I love gardening, and most outdoor activities, but this time of year they are not so accessible, so gym deadlifts are what keep me happy. So does reading, learning, having hyper switched-on people over for dinner. These are about me upping the bar for me. Doing the opposite makes me feel yucky about myself. Destroying a bag of Oreos while binge watching a streaming show is not it for me. But this is me. For someone else—and I know some very high-functioning people like this—binging may be their ticket to serenity. My drive probably comes from some deep feeling of inadequacy hardwired in childhood. Whatever. It is who I am, and I work with it. My question to you is: Do you know what really works for you, have you dared tell yourself what that is, and then, do you dare to act on it? The word dare is used here as it took me a very long time to acknowledge to myself who I was and what I needed when the world around me was telling me I should be something else. Daring to be who you truly are, owning it, and then walking that path—this is what wisdom looks like.

Onward and upward,

David

If you only had a year left, what would you do with your time? Because you may or may not only have a year. This is not a morbid prediction, it is just to say that, sometimes, the things we put off may be better brought into focus now, while we can. I visited Nova Scotia when I was 16, and every year since, I have thought, I must get back to this amazing place. It has never happened. The trip lives in the  brain bin labeled “sometime in the future.” Delaying gratification and taking actions that will benefit us in the future is one of the foundational stones of wisdom to living a good future life. Save money, work a bit harder, put off some of those trips (you get the drift). On the other hand, shockingly bad things can happen out of nowhere, and if there is one thing that I really don’t like, it is the regret for chances not taken.

Our resources, especially time, are limited. Even the fantastically rich, who may never run out of money, will most certainly run out of time. As I look at my calendar for the coming year, I ask myself, Are these things the best use of this time? Can I take an adventure, and how do I balance that with my needing time to do nothing? Have I reached out to the people important to me in meaningful ways? Have I spent time with my family?

Recently, I took in a handful of rolls of film to be developed—a time capsule of the last 10 years—and what stood out among the vacations and adventures were not the places but the simple pleasures of routine moments spent with the people I care about. Nova Scotia may get another go-around after 50 years, but if I do make it, as wonderful as it may still be, it will probably disappoint. At 16, the bar to transformative experience was rather low. Looking back has never been one of my great interests. The future fuels my imagination, but the present is where I live, it is where I am recalling the line from the poem “The Gift” by Raymond Carver: “It’s the tenderness I care about.” This is where real meaning happens, this is where my memories are created. So as I look at my calendar, I pull my attention out of future forecasting and back to what I know to be true: This is where I am, these are the days that count, especially this one, and these are the people with whom I make the memories that move me.

Onward and upward,

David

Let’s get clear about what we are doing here, why we send you suggestions and cheer you on to become your best self. Our goal isn’t just to hack our way to peak performance or extend our years—it’s to go past self-improvement and step into something greater. True longevity isn’t about endlessly refining ourselves in isolation, putting numbers up on a board. It’s about harmonizing with and connecting to a force we can use to lift us all up. The pursuit of wellness-driven longevity isn’t about stacking personal wins; it’s about living with purpose, aligning our actions with something deeper, something true. Throughout all of time, people have sought out vitality, just as we do now. Now, we have the advantage of data-driven science, but the goal is the same. This quest is about finding wisdom within, along with the energy to impact and raise up those around us. It’s about being useful. We are connected to everything and everyone. We are part of a greater system, a totality of life. The real journey of longevity isn’t about being better than others—it’s about elevating everyone. 

When we align our daily choices with the mission of shared vitality, we create a ripple effect that extends beyond our own lifespan. The body, the mind, and our sense of purpose are where we focus our energies to be helpful. The term longevity has now become a near-meaningless buzzword; to be clear, here at AGEIST, it isn’t just about adding years to life—it’s about adding meaning and impact. It’s about becoming fit for service—not just for ourselves but for those around us, for those around them, and for those in the future who will be impacted by us. We may start with dialing in sleep, food, exercise, and mental performance, however, the goal here is not the endless wellertainment of comparing wearable biomarkers; it is about being ready for when we are needed, which is now and always.

The tactics we write about will help us become our best selves, but these are just tactics to get us where we want to be: taking this vitality and using it to serve, uplift, and contribute to something beyond ourselves. When we say go big, we mean very big, as in far beyond you, to the legacy that the ripples of your actions will leave in the future.

Onward and upward,

David

Last week, I wrote about the trend toward analog and tactile, old school and non-digital that we are seeing in everything from saunas to film cameras. This observation was stimulated by what I heard a couple of weeks ago at The Global Wellness Institute's yearly trend presentation at the Global Wellness Summit. If you are curious about the trend report, you can purchase one here. I have been part of the Global Wellness world for several years and find it to be an immensely stimulating center of all things related to mental and physical wellness. You may have other topics that no doubt interest you, and I would encourage you to seek out gatherings, conferences, symposiums, or talks around your favorite topic. There is something about meeting people in person with whom you share an interest that is irreplaceable. The then strangers I have met through Global Wellness are now among my best friends. The power of commonality.

To attend an event, you need to leave your house. Sorry to say, Zoom is a facsimile of the real thing and lacks the serendipity of physically meeting new people. Part of my world is speaking at events, which admittedly is a big advantage when it comes to meeting other people in the room. Everyone at least knows who you are. It took me a while to understand that the point of a conference was beyond just gaining information; it was about adding to our human connections. Pro tip courtesy of Anna Wintour: When not sure what to do in a large group setting, walk the room from corner to corner, stopping to chat briefly with as many people as you can. This way pretty much everyone will have seen you.

When I look at my calendar and I see half a dozen events there in the next year, it no longer makes me dread the air travel, hotels, and non-home-cooked food; rather, it has me feeling curious about who I’ll meet and what they may get me thinking about. I’ll almost always leave with several new acquaintances, many notebook pages of ideas, and an appreciation of a life I have created, that makes these moments a regular part of my world. Back when AGEIST was born, I had no idea that one of the huge benefits would be an immense and expanding social group. If you are worried about boredom, shrinking networks, and a shriveling mind, start a media property. Trust me, you will have a thousand new problems, but those three will not be on the list. This coming November, I’ll be at the next Global Wellness Summit, which is taking place in Abu Dhabi. I am hyped. Maybe see you there?

Onward and upward,

David

This past week, I went to a nearby shop that sells used cameras to have a box of film, some over 10 years old, developed. The shop was bustling, packed with young people, most of them 40 years younger than I, all of whom were there to buy analog film cameras or to have film developed. The experience elicited a combination of nostalgia, as I had made my living for decades with these same cameras, and amusement, as the youngish staff would explain with limited knowledge how these near antiques all worked. There was also some sticker shock at what a 30-year-old snapshot camera was worth—the three I own are worth as much as my car. All this was followed by actually getting the film images sent to me, which was sort of like getting sent a time capsule, and so much more satisfying than the zillions of images I have on my phone.

It had me wondering about analog and its level of popularity among younger people. Analog is slower, it is less accurate, and it requires a level of tactile interaction that an iPhone will never require. This slower, multi-sensory experience is not entirely different from what I have been observing in the world of wellness. Sauna popularity is exploding, and although many people enjoy an at-home infrared, it is the very analog social nature that seems to be really blowing up. I understand there is a 90-person sauna in NYC with DJ parties and vinyl-listening nights, mostly popularized by younger people. Think sexy run club, in a hot dark room, like the semi-hygienic scene at the Old 7th Street Bathhouse but with a much more visually appealing crowd. There is nothing tech about these new sauna facilities—the basic concepts remain unchanged since the Romans used them, albeit now with gorgeous hi-fi. Add to this wild swimming clubs, bird-watching groups, and early-morning-in-the-dark uphill ski groups. Everyone participating seems to be yearning for the same thing: relief from screens, connection to others and also to their own senses. In a time when people are not in offices as much as they used to be, when drinking is out of fashion, then how do people meet each other? Let’s get hot together, or something like that.

There is a parallel movement going on in which everything that can be measured is measured, and then optimized. Bryan Johnson (whom we like) and his eccentric boy-in-the-bubble lifestyle run by algorithms would seem to be one way. There are also the Altos Labs and Calico Labs of tech land, which are exploring pretty much anything money can buy in terms of health and wellness. None of what I have heard about them falls anywhere near analog. So where does this leave us? I am not willing to go full 19th-century, get a horse and a farm and learn blacksmithing. A bit too analog for me. But there seems to be a future where one can—if one wants it—have both digital wellness and analog connection to our humanness. I’ll still measure my sleep with my WHOOP nightly because I like to know what works for me and what doesn’t. Call it well-ertainment. I also bought a few rolls of BW film, because I also like a nice analog surprise. A rich life is one of adjacent contradictions.

Onward and upward,

David

Lindsay Vonn, one of the winningest ski racers in history, is back at age 40—after a six-year absence due to injuries sustained in the course of her career. She has a new knee, and after an extended layoff, in her third race on the World Cup, she finished fourth—meaning on that day, she was the world’s fourth fastest woman skier. I ski race, not well, but I understand the sport. It requires extreme levels of skill, strength, stamina, and courage. Downhill races—the event that Vonn excels at—regularly hit 70-plus mph. They’re done on what looks like snow but is actually ice and on terrifyingly steep terrain. Vonn is a uniquely driven and talented athlete, who seems to be having a heck of a good time doing the thing she loves, being in the mix of elite ski racing.  If someone had told me after she had her knee replaced that she would be racing again, at an elite level, top five in the world, I would say, “You be trippin’.” And if she were to crash with the repaired knee? Definitely not good. But she has done both.

The reasons I am interested here are twofold. First, medical technology keeps improving so that now a partial knee replacement, previously considered an ender of anything high performance, is no longer the case, at least when an athlete like Vonn is involved. Secondly, my idea of what is possible needs to expand. Although I am constantly going on to you about how we are stronger, braver, and more capable than we ever imagined, I just could not see something like this as being in the realm of possibility. Recreational skiing, sure. Maybe helping out a bit with the U.S. Ski Team. But competing against the best in the world and still being one of them? Impressive. This means there are other things out there that I am dismissing as impossible, which are actually more in the realm of improbable. (Big difference there.)

I am perhaps too quick to say “no,” when what would serve me better would be saying “maybe.” The other thing here is that although I have never met Vonn, I know people in her circle, and she has been diligently investigating how to get back into racing. She, like you and I, have agency; we can speak to medical professionals, we can investigate, we can think and act. We are not powerless in the face of adversity. The investigation may lead us to understand that our desired outcome is not currently possible—or is possible. This is not a magical, anything-is-possible-if-I-dream-it sort of thing. This is about hard-nosed fact-based work in what is the best course of action. When I had my bout with an autoimmune disorder, I remember quickly being told to have my spleen removed. Organ removal seemed like a rather extreme solution, but after a year of biomedical experimentation and a lot of hospitals, it was clear that the risks of further messing with my immune system were now greater than spleen removal. And it worked. I am sure Vonn went through a similar process before she had surgery. We always have the option to investigate, ask questions, and advocate for ourselves. In the end, we are the deciders of what is best for us.

Onward and upward,

David