From time to time, news like that of billionaire Bryan Johnson leads me to reflect. His obsession with longevity, his tireless pursuit of immortality, his investment in all kinds of treatments and routines to keep his body in optimal condition, has made me think about a topic that, while not new, becomes more relevant with every scientific advance.
Mr. Johnson, 47, is a well-known figure in longevity circles. His fame, beyond his business, lies in his explicit goal: to surpass the limits of human lifespan. And, honestly, he's not alone. Many are dedicated to the pursuit of eternal youth, to slowing down the inevitable biological clock. But is this truly positive?
Longevity, in itself, is not negative. It is a treasure, if lived with quality and purpose. Medicine, technology, and research have increased our life expectancy in ways unimaginable just a few decades ago. This represents an undeniable advance, a gift to humanity. But what happens when this pursuit becomes an obsession? When does life become a race against time, a challenge to extend existence beyond its true meaning?
The difference, for me, lies in the concept of "living." Being alive is not synonymous with living. Living involves experiences, learning, connections, moments of happiness and sadness, of fulfillment and emptiness. Living is experiencing the full range of human emotions, not just the extension of our time on this planet.
I understand the fascination with science, medicine, and technology. Understanding the advances in research that allow us to better understand our bodies and slow the aging process. But to what extent is it necessary to take this pursuit to an extreme? To what extent should we sacrifice life for the sake of a prolonged existence?
The question, in my opinion, is not whether we can live longer. The crucial question is: how can we live better?
Bryan Johnson, and many like him, are undoubtedly committed to their physical health. But at what price? What do they lose on the path to prolonging their existence? Isn't time a finite and limited commodity that we must learn to value rather than fight against?
My concern is not with questioning someone's choice to take care of their health. My concern, and the reflection I wish to share, focuses on the obsession itself. On the overwhelming need to transcend the natural cycle of life, to deny the inevitable death. It is an understandable temptation, but one that, in my opinion, prevents us from truly appreciating the treasure that existence itself represents.
What can we learn from Bryan Johnson's approach, and from others who share his vision? We should certainly take lessons from his perseverance in health and his dedication to study and research. But perhaps most importantly, remember that what matters is not how much, but how.
What matters is not how many years we live, but the quality of those years. It is the richness of our experiences, the depth of our connections, the intensity of our feelings, that allows us to say we have lived. Living is an art, and like all art, it requires sensitivity and appreciation for every moment.
Ultimately, respect for personal choices is fundamental, but reflection on the nature of life and death is essential. Life is not an endurance race; it is a journey that we must savor every moment. And immortality, perhaps, is nothing more than an illusion, a deception.
What is truly immortal is the impact we leave on the world, the mark we engrave in the memories of those we love. And that, dear friends, has nothing to do with duration, but with intensity. And that intensity can only be found in life.
And what do you think about this?
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