I’ve been collecting life-force energy for some time now. Having more deposits than withdrawals is part of my healthy aging plan. I think this is a brilliant strategy for wellness of all kinds, but is particularly important as we age.

What most people think of as “aging” is what I see as the compound interest of lifelong energetic debt. We can get away with neglecting of our bodies, even abusing them, for some time, but eventually the consequences catch up. 

Every decision we make can include an awareness of this simple math. Will this action yield more or less healing energy in my system?

Don’t get me wrong- I’m no teetotaler. I don’t always opt for the supremely healthy choice, but when I don’t, I do the math first to decide if the results will be worth it.

Today, I went out for lunch. I usually prepare my own meals, but for the past 24 hours, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about bread. Very strange. I wondered if perhaps it was my body speaking to me? More likely a long-silenced part that never got onboard 25 years ago when I learned I had a wheat sensitivity. Whatever, the thoughts became a craving and I figured a sandwich would do the trick. 

I knew that mediocre bread wouldn’t cut it. And gluten free bread isn’t usually great. It’s either crazy expensive, has questionable ingredients to make up for the gluey gluten goodness that traditionally holds bread together, or crumbles in your hands. I couldn’t think of any way to satisfy this desire at the grocery store and I had nothing at home that would suffice. 

So off to the bakery I go. I chose what would be considered healthy fare by any American standards. Chicken salad on walnut raisin. Not a hoagie (hero, sub, grinder or bun the size of my head), just two slices of bread. It was most satisfying and quelled that incessant loop in my head. 

As I stood up to bus my plate, I had to cough. This is highly unusual for me. Suddenly, there was a lot of phlegm in my throat. As I walked out the door, I noticed I was sniffly. Shortly thereafter, I was gassy. And then my ears started to itch. 

No big deal, really. My body can manage all of this. But it’s using life-force to do so. I don’t need to feel guilty or worry or make amends. It’ll all even out if I offer an extra deposit- such as time in nature or meditating. 

If this was my habit, though, it’s easy to see how I’d eventually end up in life-force deficiency. And I’d get chronically stuffy, which could create the perfect environment for a virus to move in. Or I could medicate the symptoms, ignoring the root cause and accrue even more problematic symptoms. 

I thought of my friend Mika, who carries a digestive enzyme supplement with her for times like these. There are definitely ways to mitigate less than stellar decisions. But what I really want to point out is that I recognized these symptoms because they aren’t the norm for me. Many people wouldn’t identify phlegm-iness as a result of food choices.

The more active I am in building my life-force savings, the more obvious the costly fees are because the contrast is so great.

There is no one-sized fits all life-force savings plan. I’m not suggesting that you don’t eat out, or you don’t eat chicken salad sandwiches, or you go wheat- free. But I am suggesting you do some detective work, some experimenting, and begin an honest exploration into your expenditures and investments. 

If you find yourself digging in your heels, unwilling to give up certain behaviors you know to be problematic, that’s ok too. To balance things out, you can put your focus on life-force deposits. So rather than taking something away, you can think of adding in a beneficial practice like yoga or tai chi. Or build a monthly session of massage and/or Reiki into your budget and calendar. 

Find ways to make more deposits, even if your withdrawals remain the same, and you’ll accrue wellness credits over time. The benefit to quitting the habits that have less than desirable results, at least for a few weeks, is that your body can recalibrate and you’ll be better able to notice its reaction to something as simple as eating a sandwich for lunch.