Some people are convinced that humanity is on the downward side of a bell curve, just like the ancient Romans, who, despite creating the most successful and accomplished society ever, could not maintain this glory, and instead, descended quickly into chaos and decadence. It’s just a matter of time before our civilization will fall, say these cheery folk, and they point to any headline or environmental policy or political stagnation as proof that we are in the midst of (another) decline and fall of western civilization.
I’m a bit too focused on today to wonder about whether our civilization will fall. If pressed, I can come up with my own proof, however: it’s impossible to find chocolate Heath Bar Crunch ice cream; gas price increases are spoken about not just by old people; tomatoes rarely taste tomato-y; large and flabby bellies are no longer politely hidden under t-shirts, but are exposed with low-rider jeans and navel-piercings; and my part of the world has gone through a cold, wet, humid spell despite the shrieking peril of global warming.
But usually I just go about my day, grocery shopping (but never finding that elusive ice cream), doing laundry, working, paying bills, helping with homework, having a slow casual Saturday morning lingering in bed.
There’s a new person at the front desk of my gym in the early morning hours when I go. All the people who have this job are, despite being just a minute or two more awake than me, kind and sleepily cheerful. Most of them use their time to text and surf the internet, taking breaks to fold towels and greet people, but mostly their job gives them uninterrupted time with their social networks. They are very, very nice when they look up and say, “Good morning!” when I come in, and they smile knowingly and encouragingly when – bedraggled with post-exercise exhaustion – I will myself out the door and they call, “Have a nice day!” Then they return to the real world of texting/tweeting/surfing.
Enter the new front desk girl. Young, of course – would it kill the gym to hire a middle-aged front desk person so that I didn’t feel so old and hopeless before I even got on the elliptical? – and fresh-faced and hopeful and cheerful and beautiful, her blond hair pulled completely off her face with a scrunchy hair band, her blue eyes wide and awake behind her glasses, and, in her hand, a book. A book. The girl is reading a book. The second time I saw her, same image, except her hair was pulled back in a pony tail. Still reading a book.
The third time, I had to look – what could this young, fit, beautiful girl be reading at 5 am at the front desk of the gym? A romance novel? Vampire lit? A graphic novel? Trash, I assumed. But no, it was Viktor Frankl’s Man’s search for meaning. This girl is taking her precious time away from her Facebook friends and family and instead is giving herself over to one of the most important literary forces to describe not just the horror of living in a concentration camp, but the essential human force that cannot be destroyed no matter what – the creation of the reason to live, when all around you seems to have descended and fallen, in ways that I imagine trump the post-Roman decline years. She’s reading about the most basic human capacity to seek meaning and purpose. And pausing to fold towels, or sell a bottle of water, or greet a newcomer to the gym. She’s surrounded by what some would call meaningless human activity – running in place, cycling without any actual destination, stair-stepping without ever reaching the next floor – but she’s imbued the whole place with a kind of elegance.
She’s provided me with a health club throw down: Work out because it gives purpose and meaning. She’s challenged me to focus on the real reasons I could be at the gym: to become a whole person, to balance out the physical with the mind, to work past discomfort in order to become stronger, in body and spirit. To imbue my life with richness by understanding the limits of experience and creating new limits with dedicated effort. To learn and grown. To find meaning in all moments, even those on a recumbent bike.
The world may be on a downward decline – perhaps the nay-sayers are on to something, youth of today and all. But not at my gym. My gym’s got this girl, who is uncommonly pursuing something higher. And pulling me up as she ascends.