The Drop and the Deep: Health, Eternity, and the Sixth Pillar

There appears to be a growing movement around how to improve health and longevity. Was it the COVID-19 pandemic that triggered widespread skepticism toward governmental health institutions and traditional medical providers? Or perhaps it was the sudden abundance of time—and access to endless information on the internet—that caused people to begin questioning long-held assumptions?

Whatever the cause, I’ve witnessed the effects firsthand in my work as an integrative cardiologist. Conversations once considered settled—about statin therapy, vaccine efficacy, or the amount of exercise truly needed for longevity—are now being reopened with fresh intensity.

Over the years, I’ve shifted toward integrative medicine because I believe deeply in identifying and treating the root causes of disease. Our current model, which often waits until chronic illness has taken hold before intervening, is simply not enough. Conditions like cardiovascular disease, diabetes, hypertension, cancer, and dementia are frequently managed with a palliative mindset: control the symptoms, mitigate the damage, and move on.

Too many patients resign themselves to this path, believing recovery is out of reach. They accept the polypharmacy, the frequent doctor visits, and the revolving door of prescriptions as their new normal.

But I have seen something different—when physician and patient are equally committed. With clear goals, shared decision-making, and unwavering dedication, the trajectory of one’s health can shift dramatically. Lifestyle change is hard, yes. Frustration and procrastination are part of the journey. But with consistency, hope becomes real again.

For most patients who are truly motivated, the goal is not just to live longer, but to live well—to extend their health span, not just their lifespan. They reap the rewards of their efforts in extended yeas f good health and joyful living. Sadly, those who are unmotivated find that their later years are burdened with multiple chronic diseases that diminish not only their vitality, but also their joy and satisfaction in life’s final chapters.

I often speak of six pillars of health: exercise, diet, sleep, stress reduction, socialization, and spirituality. Each pillar plays a role in extending both quality and quantity of life. But there is one pillar I haven’t emphasized enough—one that may, in the end, matter the most: spirituality.

In our increasingly secular society, spirituality is often dismissed or forgotten. But I believe this is a mistake. Lifestyle changes like exercise and a whole-food diet can add years to life, yes. Quality sleep and stress reduction can improve daily function and longevity, absolutely. But spirituality doesn’t just add years—it points toward eternity.

This raises a profound question: How do we even begin to conceptualize eternity?

I've long struggled to find a metaphor that captures its immensity—something that would move the heart as well as the mind. Then I found one that spoke to me:

Imagine standing at the edge of the ocean at dawn. You lift your hand, and resting delicately on your fingertip is a single drop of water. That droplet contains your entire earthly life—every breath, every moment, every joy and sorrow—held in something so small it could vanish before you fully comprehend it.

Now look up.

The ocean stretches beyond the horizon, farther than the eye can see. But even that infinite surface is just the beginning. Beneath it lies a depth beyond measure. That vast, mysterious expanse is eternity.

And your soul—like a vessel—will one day be immersed in it.

The surface of the ocean glows with the first light of morning—golden, shimmering, alive. It moves with music and warmth. This is the invitation to heaven: eternal communion, radiant beauty, and love that never ceases.

But the deeper waters tell a different story.

Down below, where no light reaches, the ocean becomes thick, black, and still. It is not a place of fire or fury, but of absence—no warmth, no music, no presence. This is the eternity of separation. Not torment, but silence. Not rage, but regret.

Where we sink or rise will not be determined by how long the drop lasted—but by what it contained.

I understand that spirituality may be an afterthought for many. But as a physician who has walked with patients through the final stages of life, I can tell you: a strong spiritual foundation brings peace—deep, steady peace. It calms fear. It transforms death from an enemy into a doorway.

We spend so much time and money tending to our physical selves. I don't discourage that—after all, our bodies are a gift. But I believe the greatest return on investment comes from nurturing the spiritual self.

We are not just physical beings. We are uniquely made—both body and soul. And the attention we give to our spiritual lives today may well shape our eternal tomorrow.

Just as the drop of water may seem insignificant in the vast ocean, it is what the drop holds—its substance, its soul—that echoes into eternity. That echo may reflect the bright shimmer of an everlasting dawn, or the deep stillness of a cold, dark and forgotten abyss.

There is no better time than now to pause, reflect, and turn our hearts toward the eternal.

May the blessings of God be with you on your journey.