Last Saturday, I volunteered at a men’s wellness event hosted by the Michigan Men’s Health Foundation at Ford Field in Detroit. The gathering was remarkable in its simplicity: everything was freely given, blood work, screenings for prostate health and diabetes, haircuts, dental and foot care. Everyone attending was provided with lunch. About 1,500 men were served. There we no pledges, no obligations, no cost, no religious requirements, just an open door to receive care.

The foundation’s mission is both simple and profound: to encourage men to engage with their health and begin conversations with their families that can ripple across generations, shaping a legacy of well-being.

My role was to register men who hadn’t signed up online. That task opened doors I didn’t expect. I met and spoke with men I might never have encountered in my daily life. I shared moments with men of color, something my life too often lacks. By the end of the day, I was tired, but deeply uplifted. My heart was full. I was profoundly moved by the grace of service, by the way simple human connection can nourish the soul.

Probably because of the “ubiquitous algorithms” embedded in social media and websites I visit, I am forwarded videos of people offering spiritual advice.  Some resonate, they invite me to pause, to breathe, and to notice truths that quietly speak to the human condition. Others, however, proclaim certainty: the “truth” of life, the “answer” to what we’re missing. They offer sweeping solutions without humility or invitation, as if life can be reduced to a formula. In those messages, I feel the absence of gentleness, the absence of wonder.

I know my reflections here are only that, my perspective, not the truth. Yet I’ve noticed how often these voices circle back to themselves, to self-reference, to dissatisfaction. Too much time, perhaps, is spent searching within for what feels broken.

But there is another way. When we step outside of ourselves and offer service, without expectation, without calculation, we are lifted out of the endless spiral of self-analysis. Service doesn’t have to mean grand sacrifice. It might be a smile for the cashier, a kind word to a stranger, or a few hours volunteering. These small gestures of kindness remind us of our shared humanity, something we are in danger of forgetting in these times.

To serve is to remember: we belong to each other. And in that belonging, something sacred awakens.

With curiosity and an open heart,
Gary

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty of life, I remain open to Grace and the gift of my life.

If you have any questions, please email me at garymerel@gmail.com or call 732-208-2836. Also, please visit my website at leanintoyourlife.net

I know my reflections here are only that, my perspective, not the truth. Yet I’ve noticed how often these voices circle back to themselves, to self-reference, to dissatisfaction. Too much time, perhaps, is spent searching within for what feels broken.