Notes from the sunny Island #4 – How long do we want to live?

After the October conference in Warsaw on vitamin D, which I attended, where Professor Carlberg spoke about lifespan, the length of life, and healthspan, the time we live in good health, I couldn’t stop thinking about his lecture.

His words about longevity and the rhythm of life, about light, movement and relationships, echoed in my mind. Deep down, we all know it’s true. He said that science is now reminding us of something we’ve always known – that health doesn’t begin in laboratories, but in everyday choices: in the morning light, in calm sleep, in conversation, in movement.

I realised how much I needed, before winter came, to return to the place where these words had truly come alive for me over the past few years, to Crete, to my sunny place of strength. To the island that teaches that the length of life and the length of health are not two separate things, but one. So I decided to change the climate, even just for a week. I booked a flight, and a few days later, my daughters and I traded rainy Poland for sunny Crete, to reconnect with friends and with the warmth the island always gives us.

The time of living in health

Professor Carlberg reminded us that it’s not only about how long we live, but also how long we stay healthy. In medicine today, two terms are increasingly mentioned together:

• lifespan – the length of life,
• healthspan – the length of health, meaning the period when our body and mind function well, free from chronic disease, fatigue, and loss of joy.

Just a decade or two ago, it seemed that the main goal was simply “to live as long as possible.” Today, we’re asking a different question: how can we make those extra years good ones? How can we keep enjoying life instead of just extending it?

Carlberg said that most diseases which shorten life, diabetes, obesity, depression, and cardiovascular problems, don’t start with age, but with a disrupted rhythm of life. It’s a rhythm we lose in a world of screens, rush, and closed rooms. Returning to sunlight, movement, wholesome food, and sleep isn’t nostalgia – it’s applied health science.

When I was back in Chania, feeling the warmth of the island again, I thought that here lifespan and healthspan have always flowed in the same rhythm: in the shade of olive trees, in the sun, in conversations, in simplicity. On this island, people don’t talk much about “wellbeing” or “biohacking.” They simply live in a way that body and mind don’t have to struggle against the world. Here, life is valued for its simplicity.

In Crete, health is not a project. It’s a rhythm – breathing in tune with nature, with light, with the changing seasons. Maybe that’s why so many people who come here from the north say that after some time, they feel younger, even though they’re not trying to “fix” anything.
They just let the light do its quiet work.

The five pillars of longevity

In Professor Carlberg’s lecture, five words appeared that could easily become a map for life: movement, sleep, diet, relationships, and light.

In Crete, each of them finds its natural place:

• movement is everyday life – picking olives, swimming in the sea, dancing to music, or hiking in the mountains,
• sleep comes after sunset, unhurried and free from screens,
  diet means simple food – olive oil, vegetables, healthy bread,
• light is the backdrop for everything that happens between day and night.
• And relationships? Here on the island, they have a special meaning.

Crete attracts people from all over the world who have consciously chosen this place: for the sun, for simplicity, for a rhythm of life that allows you to breathe more fully. This international community forms a mosaic of stories and experiences. Some people left corporate jobs to grow gardens; artists who found the light they’d been searching for all their lives; families who wanted to raise their children closer to nature. Meeting them is always inspiring and humbling. Each of us has our own story, but many of us share the same choice: to live in rhythm with the light.

Carlberg said:

“Sunlight is not optional; it’s a biological signal.” And I believe that for Cretans, and for those who have chosen to live here, it’s something even deeper – a signal of life itself. Light reminds us that health is not a project, but a way of being.

A lesson from Stelios

A few days after arriving, I visited my favourite restaurant in Chania – To Stachi. Stelios, the owner, was preparing chestnuts for roasting. He told me where he gathers them and where they grow in abundance. He showed me photos from his walk in the Omalos mountains, and although he had probably been there many times before, his voice carried the same wonder – the landscape, the light, and the colours he managed to capture.

These were the last days of his work for the season. Soon, he will close the restaurant to take care of his home, his land, and his olive trees. Perhaps he’ll visit more of the places that bring him joy.

Once, during one of our conversations, Stelios told me a sentence I never forgot:

“The sun doesn’t say when it shines. It just shines.”

I think that sentence holds the key to everything – to peace, to health, to longevity. Because, like the sun, life doesn’t need declarations, only presence. And maybe that’s what it truly means to be healthy – to simply shine. Like Stelios, with his passion and his desire to share what he loves – his cooking, simple, honest, and full of light.

Now he will close his restaurant and take care of his land, his garden, and himself. After a long, intense season, it’s time to return to nature, to slow down, and to rest, a well-deserved pause before the next cycle begins.

The light that remains

After returning from Crete, I can still feel its energy. I hope it stays with me for a while – maybe even until my next visit in spring…

In the meantime, I’ll look for sunlight here in Poland – in moments with friends and loved ones, in new encounters and conversations, in seasonal food that nature offers now, in morning walks, even in the rain.

Because the sun shines even when we can’t see it. We just need to remember how to notice it.