Getting Your Affairs in Order in the 21st Century

I am a recent convert to the mystical and magical world of Pilates. It astounds me that a couple of ropes, a head rest, some pullies and a foot bar; all shacked up together on a wooden carriage can have such a transformational effect on my posture, strength and overall wellbeing.

I’m blessed to have a wonderful and patient instructor who reminds me every other exercise what I’m supposed to be doing and how I need to do it. She truly has the patience of a Saint. I’m also fortunate to have a couple of regulars who attend the same classes. One of which did me an enormous favour the other day.

I had just performed the scooter, which is kind of a hinged (or in my case unhinged) squat with one leg on the ground and the other pushing a padded board on wheels backwards. I had just completed 20 of these. Well in truth I had done about 16 before my body started to shake like a Fukashima cooling tower. Actually, I think I might have wobbled to 13 and a ½ before I rounded up to 20. Ok. Ok… 11 it was 11. Anyway, having dispatched somewhere between 9 and 20 I felt an enormous sense of satisfaction that I had managed to finish a set of unhinged leg flails with my dignity vaguely intact. Well, I hadn’t broken wind and I hadn’t fallen over. (Sadly, both distinct possibilities)

Anyway, there I was basking in my anaerobic achievement when one of my Pilates buddies, let’s call her Brenda, (Not her real name) who would be half my weight and a good 30 years older than me proceeded to double the springs on the same apparatus and smash out 30 without some much as a quiver. I considered asking ASADA (Australian Sports Anti Doping Agency) to make some discreet enquiries but thought better of it. Besides I had jelly legs and had to sit down.

As is sometimes the case, while we collectively toil away on Joseph's machines of torture, (he invented Pilates) we started to chat. I was about to go to Sydney to make a film about a fascinating Painter who set up an easel at the age of 50 and, now in her 70’s, sells her work all over the world. A truly inspirational grandmother who has over 10,000 followers on Instagram.

As the others all got down to their individual, tiny, isolated movements (we must have resembled a middle-aged interpretative dance troupe making a bold collective statement about corporate globalisation) one of the other Pilates cult members casually asked, “So… who is this Painter’s film for?”

I gingerly regained my feet and feigned getting busy with the Cadillac. (A medieval rack with punishing metallic dangly bits)

“It’s essentially for her family.” I replied.

She gently titled her head as she tried to nut it out, “But why?”

“So one day her grandchildren and their grandchildren will know who she is, what shaped her and what’s important to her…” Her blank expression told me she still wasn’t quite getting it so I continued. “What makes her laugh, what makes her cry, what her voice sounds like… What life has taught her.”

The penny dropped followed by the corners of her mouth. “Oh… I couldn’t do that.” My Pilates buddy exclaimed, “I don’t need too… I tell my grandchildren who I am all the time… when I read them stories... And after I’m gone they can always ask my son.” I was tempted to point out that young children have a habit of not remembering much and that her son wouldn’t always be there to tell them and even if he was… He’d never do the length and breadth of her life’s experience justice, but instead I just shrugged and said, “It’s not for everyone.”

It’s funny but initially this is quite a common response. People, particularly grandparents, are often reluctant when their loved ones suggest they tell their story. There is almost a palpable resistance to making a documentary about their life.

I think there are a couple of things at play. Firstly, its generational. People in their 60’s, 70’s and 80’s were born in a time when you didn’t talk about yourself, you just got on with things and if you did say something vaguely self-congratulatory, you would be accused of big noting or having tickets on yourself.

And secondly, I think a lot of people are reluctant to admit that they are getting older, and that life doesn’t last forever. Sometimes they can be under the misconception that by making a Film about their life story they are saying their life is over. Which of course could not be further from the truth. A TBL film celebrates life it doesn’t mourn the end of it.

Inevitably in everyone’s life there comes a time when you have to get your affairs in order so at some point, in the hopefully distant future, your family and friends will be aware of your wishes and make sure they are carried out. This is usually done by writing a WILL. Making a Legacy Video is just a modern, natural extension of that process. At the same time as dealing with property, and possessions why not also deal with your family’s emotional wellbeing? WILLs stretch all the way back to Ancient Greece and whilst the Greeks were a very clever civilisation, society and indeed humanity has evolved a great deal then since then. In Ancient Greece for example, a common hangover cure was strapping the testicles of a fox to your forehead and the go to remedy for epilepsy was eating the heart of a black Jackass on the second day of the new moon. But I digress.

A WILL sets out your physical and material wishes but what about beyond that? What about your emotional connection to your family? Your hopes and dreams for your children and grandchildren for example. What has life taught you that you would like to share with them? What difficult life lessons have you learnt that you would like to spare your children from experiencing?

The material items you leave your family may make their lives more comfortable but what about when difficulties arise (that aren’t financial) and what they want and need, more than anything, is your counsel and your advice. Can you imagine the joy your cherished grandchild would experience if one day, when you are gone, they can still spend time with you as you tell them about the wonderful adventure that was your life.

Your character, experience and reassurance don’t have to leave this life when you do. Your example can live on guiding your family for generations to come.

Getting back to my Pilates class mates question. Who is the film for? Generally speaking, people don’t make films with This Beautiful Life for themselves; they make them for those who are most important to them, the people they love. Their family and friends.