The meaning of lumbago?

First published in Column Eight on the 9^th February, 1994 

In spite of last week’s quote about newspaper columns not being the best place to consider the meaning of life, I’m going to throw 600 words in that direction today.

1994 has already distinguished itself as a year in which to ponder just how fragile we humans are. Floods here and abroad; forest fires threatening to devastate a city outright; earthquakes tossing buildings, cars and people around like leaves in a breeze.

In a year in which Hell is said to have frozen over, I think we’d do well to take some time out to mull over our mortality.

I remember one young fellow I used to work with – he may have grown up in the years since I knew him – who claimed that Hell was the place to go. All his mates would be there, he said, and they could spend eternity partying with no moralistic do-gooders looking over their shoulders.

Personally, I don’t consider Hell, heated or frozen over, to hold much charm, even with the possibility of always doing my own thing. (I find it bad enough in this life coping with the aftermath of doing only what I want.)

A current television ad claims we spend most of lives doing boring things, and have only five and a half unadulterated (by which I think they mean time spent away from adults) months to PAAAAAARTY! My mathematical kids think the admen have miscalculated – or consider life to be very short.

As an adulterated person, however, I believe those five and a half months might be better spent in a bit of contemplation.

Contemplation isn’t in, right now, I realise. In fact, the world around us, particularly for us city folks, is downright against it. We have constant noise from the rising of the sun to the going down of the same. Who could survive with – yuk! – silence.

Consequently, we don’t spend much humble-time sitting and thinking about how insignificant we are – the commercials tell us otherwise, anyway. Neither do we give ourselves much free space to wonder at the fact that each day is a gift, not something belonging to us as a right.

Life is to be lived, we say, and forget the hereafter.

Some years ago the stands collapsed at an overseas football match and hundreds of people were killed or maimed. Not only did it appear ‘live’ on television, but the game carried on. In commenting to a workmate about the callousness of this, he said the rest of the fans would have caused a riot – with worse results than the aftermath of the collapsed stands.

Once upon a time, when someone died, we used to take time out to stop and think. Now we’re hardly any different to those soccer fans: we want to ignore the dead and dying and get on with the game. Distractions on every side pull us away from thinking about anything the here and now.

I include myself in this: Death barely makes a tremor on the surface of my soul, unless it’s someone extremely close to me. Constant exposure to death in the media tends to make me callous. I can turn from death to life in a moment, barely blinking a brain-cell.

But I’ll have to face death for myself one day, sooner or later, suddenly or slowly. And in spite of my Bros’ recent suggestion to ‘lighten up,’ there are times when a bit of reflection in the gloom-room doesn’t go amiss.

Considering the meaning of life is a good deal more interesting than considering the meaning of lumbago – if that’s philosophically possible (anyway, lumbago always sounds like a South American dance to me). And though the year is well on its way, I’m determined to think more about where I’m going in this life, as well as the life beyond.

(Hopefully, however, I haven’t already wasted my ‘five and a half months’ in partying.)

 

Courtesy Manchester Physio

 Nowadays AI has an answer regarding The meaning of lumbago…

The precise capitalized string 'THE MEANING OF LUMBAGO' originates from a specific philosophical analogy popularised by the famous psychotherapist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl in his seminal works on meaning and existence.

While it was written earlier, it became heavily studied and quoted in 1990s university lecture halls, psychology textbooks, and self-help literature.

Frankl used the phrase to explain why you cannot ask a broad, blanket question like "What is the meaning of life?" He argued that life's meaning is highly specific to the individual and their current situation, using this exact logic:

Asking for a general "meaning of life" makes as little sense as asking a chess champion, "What is the best chess move in the world?" It depends entirely on the game situation. It is just like asking a doctor, "What is the meaning of lumbago?"

 [What is the meaning of life? – Antonio Gallo, quoted on Goodreads.

I believe all men ask themselves, at least once in their lifetime, this question. I remember, once I asked this question to someone during a lecture: I was answered that “life is a sexually transmitted condition with a 100 per cent mortality rate”. What we do know for certain is that “we were not once, we are now, and we will not be again”. Life is not a linguistic term and hence has no meaning. Just as if I asked “what is the meaning of lumbago”. At this point, you might as well ask me “Why are you putting this question?”. To be frank, I don’t know. I forgot to ask my parents …

 The Joke / Logic Behind It [AI likes to explain jokes, even though I'm not it/he/she understands them]

In medical terms, "lumbago" isn't a complex, profound disease with a hidden purpose—it literally just means lower back pain. Therefore, asking for the "deep philosophical meaning" of a standard muscle ache is inherently absurd. Frankl used it as a humorous, dry reality check to show that people look for abstract cosmic answers to life when they should be focusing on the practical, specific reality right in front of them.