The lessons we can learn from the game of Poker
Every poker room has two kinds of players, and you can tell them apart by midnight. One is playing with somewhere to be in the morning — a life outside the card room that keeps his judgment clean and his stack protected. The other is playing because he has nowhere in particular to be at all, and it shows: he stays too long, chases hands out of boredom, and treats his chips as a way to pass the hours rather than as something entrusted to him. The cards do not know the difference between these two men. Over the years, their bodies will. It turns out having a purpose — a reason — is not merely good for the soul. Measured carefully, it appears to be good for survival itself.
That is not a preacher’s claim; it is a researcher’s. In a study published in 2019, scientists followed thousands of Americans over the age of fifty and measured, among other things, each person’s sense of purpose: the feeling that one’s life has direction and meaning, that there are goals worth getting up for. Then they watched who died during the study period. The result was stark. Those with the lowest sense of purpose were significantly more likely to die during those years than those with the highest — and the gap remained even after the researchers accounted for the obvious explanations: existing health, wealth, depression, and the rest. A weak sense of purpose was not merely a symptom of a life going badly. It traveled with mortality itself.
Researchers are still working out the mechanism, and their leading explanations are plain ones. A person with a purpose takes better care of the machine: he keeps the doctor’s appointment, takes the walk, eats as if it matters, because he has somewhere to be and people expecting him. Purpose pulls a person outward — into volunteering, family, congregation, and community — and social engagement is itself protective. It gives stress somewhere to go; a bad day is only weather inside a life that has a direction. Strip the science down and it sounds too simple to publish: people who have a reason to live, live longer. But simple is not the same as easy. A reason, once the job stops supplying one automatically, has to be found and kept — deliberately, the way you keep anything else that keeps you alive.
That word — kept — is the one to hold onto. We do not treat our other health habits as matters of inspiration. Nobody with sense says, “I will take my blood pressure medicine when I feel moved to,” or “I will walk on the days the mood strikes.” We schedule those things, build them into the week, and keep them on the flat days as faithfully as on the good ones, precisely because the benefit comes from the keeping. Purpose belongs on the same list, handled with the same unsentimental regularity. It is not a lightning bolt to wait for in retirement. It is a habit to practice: something to contribute, someone to help, something to build or learn, returned to week after week the way you return to the walking route and the pill organizer.
And it does not have to be grand — this is where most people excuse themselves, and they should not. In my years of practice and since, the purposes that held up were rarely impressive on paper. One man tutored children at the library two mornings a week and guarded those mornings like court dates. A woman kept a garden that fed half her street. Another wrote out the family history nobody else would ever have recorded; another gave herself fully to her grandchildren; another lent her bookkeeping skills to a small charity that would have folded without them. What they share is not scale. It is that each was genuinely theirs, reached beyond themselves, and gave the week a spine. The research does not ask whether your purpose would impress a stranger. It asks whether you have one.
Here is the takeaway. This week, write your purpose in a single sentence — not a wish, a sentence, beginning “I am the person who…” — and then do for it what you do for every other health habit that matters. Give it fixed appointments in your calendar, at least two a week, and keep them for a month the way you would keep a prescription. When you next sit down to review your health — the weight, the blood pressure, the lab numbers — add one more line to the page: purpose, present and practiced, or missing. The researchers have done their part; they have shown a reason to get up in the morning is not a luxury of a good retirement. It is one of its medicines.