What do you deserve?


I’ve just finished teaching my usual spring course on medical ethics, and turning my attention to a new course I’m designing for the fall “Philosophy and Well-Being.”

I really enjoy teaching the course as we have many thought-provoking discussions. In one class, a student raised the issue of "desert," in the sense of “a person's worthiness of reward or punishment.” What does a person deserve? The context was whether healthcare should be available to all. The student suggested that there should be limits if someone's health issues were self-inflicted. The student cited the example of a person who smokes cigarettes and, as a result, suffers from one of the many illnesses related to smoking. "In that case," the student said, "the person doesn't deserve to be made well. She brought the illness on herself and doesn't deserve healthcare." This sparked a spirited discussion about desert. 

It reminded me of the story in the Gospels where Jesus came across a man who had been ill for thirty-eight years, who sat by a pool that was thought to bring healing when its waters stirred Jesus asked the man, "Do you want to be made well?"

The obvious answer would be, "Yes, of course I want to be made well! Who wouldn't?" But with some reflection, the answer is not so clear. The problem is that our actions and habits often contradict what we express verbally. 

Regardless of what anyone thinks about what we deserve due to our poor choices, it seems reasonable to say that if we persist in unhealthy habits, our actions imply that our response to Jesus' question is, "Actually, I'd rather continue my habits than be made well."

This week, I recommended to a colleague, engaged in research into meditation practices, Peter Wayne’s book, The Harvard Medical School Guide to Tai Chi. The book merges Western scientific research on well-being with ancient Chinese philosophy and practice. It provides scientific evidence that tai chi is effective in both preventing and curing diseases. It also offers a set of exercises to practice daily for about thirty minutes (derived from the Yang style of tai chi). It's a fantastic book for anyone wanting to start tai chi or those curious about the scientific validity of such practices.

The book's subtitle is 12 Weeks to a Healthy Body, Strong Heart, and Sharp Mind, a claim that certainly sells books. Who wouldn't want to commit to just twelve weeks of tai chi exercises if that's all it takes to improve body, heart, and mind? In reality, in twelve weeks a new tai chi practitioner will have only sampled the beginnings of mind-body integration. They will notice a new flexibility, improved breathing patterns, and perhaps a sense of calm in daily life. If they stick to twelve weeks of daily practice, they might get hooked and continue from the five recommended exercises to one of the traditional routines (from 24 to 108 postures).

In fairness, the subtitle doesn't quite capture the book's contents, as the authors recognize that for tai chi (or any other well-being program) to work, it requires a lifestyle change. This is where the rubber meets the road. Ancient figures like Confucius, Aristotle, Buddha, and Jesus spoke of changing how we live to experience fullness and well-being. "Do you want to be made well? Then practice well-being through mind-body integration. Practice!"

Jesus' question, "Do you want to be made well?" raises other questions: What does it mean to be well? Is being well purely physical, or is there more to it? Can we contribute to our own well-being, or are we subject to fate or chance?

Being well involves the sum total of life. It is "being well in doing well" (as Alasdair MacIntyre phrased it). It involves wellness in body, mind, and spirit. And yes, we can contribute to our own well-being. We should go with the flow of nature, connect with the earth, tap into heaven's energy, and release the potential locked within us. Be well!

Here’s a video of what you can learn in 15 weeks in tai chi (my students from spring 2024 semester).





+Ab.Andy