Every few months, I block time in my calendar to visit my mom.

She’s 94 and lives in long-term care with vascular dementia.

And if you’ve followed along over the years, you know this: even though her mind isn’t what it once was, her spirit of play is still very much alive.

She laughs and sings.

She reaches for connection.

She joins in, even if she can’t follow the conversation.

Her physical spark still shines because she’s in an environment that supports movement, routine, and engagement – the same pillars I talk about every day.

And every time I see her, I’m reminded of something we all tend to forget: scheduling time to see the people we care about is an act of love for others and for ourselves.

I don’t wait for a crisis to see her.

I don’t wait for the call no one wants.

I go because I choose to go. I go because it gives me a sense of groundedness in a situation I ultimately can’t control.

But it also mirrors something far bigger: This is exactly what preventative health looks like.

Not reacting when pain shows up.

Not scrambling when burnout hits.

Not waiting for the diagnosis, the injury, the “oh my God, I should have done something sooner” moment.

Proactive care, in our relationships and in our bodies, is what gives us agency in a world where so much is uncertain.

My mom can no longer plan her days. She can’t choose her habits.

But her environment, one that keeps her moving, engaged, and connected, continues to support her well-being at 94.

And it reminds me, every visit, that we still have the privilege of choice.

We can choose:

• To move before our bodies force us to

• To rest before exhaustion demands it

• To play before life feels heavy

• To care for our future selves long before crisis steps in.

So this week’s invitation is simple: Choose something proactive.

One small thing.

One “future-you” decision.

Go for the walk.

Book the appointment.

Stretch during that meeting.

Ask for help.

Schedule a connection.

Play.

Because the most potent health strategy we have isn’t waiting for things to fall apart.

It’s choosing to care early, consistently, and with intention.

Just like I choose to visit my mom before it’s too late.

Play on!

Your coach and friend,

Jan