Good health is not something we can buy. However, it can be an

The American writer and psychologist Anne Wilson Schaef, whose life’s work was devoted to healing the human spirit, once wrote: “Good health is not something we can buy. However, it can be an extremely valuable savings account.” In this simple but profound reflection, she captures the eternal truth that health is both the most fragile and the most priceless possession of humankind. Schaef, who spent her career studying addiction, recovery, and the psychology of wholeness, understood that while gold and possessions can be regained once lost, health, once squandered, is rarely restored to its former glory. Her words are a quiet reminder that our bodies and minds are sacred trusts — gifts not purchased but preserved through care, balance, and respect.

To say that “good health is not something we can buy” is to strike at the illusion that dominates modern life — the belief that wealth can purchase all forms of well-being. Schaef’s wisdom warns that no amount of money can purchase the peace of a strong heartbeat, the clarity of a calm mind, or the vitality of a body free from pain. Medicines may mend, and doctors may guide, but true health is built day by day through choices both humble and invisible — the food we eat, the thoughts we nurture, the sleep we honor, and the love we allow ourselves to feel. It cannot be bought at a market, only earned through discipline and gratitude.

The second half of her saying — “it can be an extremely valuable savings account” — carries a metaphor of great depth. Just as a wise person saves money for future storms, a wise soul invests in health long before sickness arrives. Each moment of nourishment, each breath of fresh air, each hour of rest is a deposit into this sacred account. And when the winds of time or the trials of life come, it is from this reserve that strength and resilience are drawn. To neglect one’s health is to spend one’s inheritance before it is needed — and when the hour of trial arrives, the account stands empty.

History is filled with examples of those who learned this truth too late. The tale of Howard Hughes, the American industrialist and billionaire, stands as a warning. Despite vast riches, his final years were consumed by frailty and fear, his body ravaged by neglect and obsession. All the gold of his empire could not buy back the peace his spirit had lost. By contrast, consider Mahatma Gandhi, who lived with the simplicity of a monk. Though possessing little, he tended his body and soul with mindfulness — walking daily, eating sparingly, and grounding his life in meditation and faith. In the end, it was he, not Hughes, who lived in abundance, for his health was the vessel of his freedom.

Schaef’s insight also carries a spiritual dimension. Health is not merely physical strength but the harmony of body, mind, and spirit. To live healthily is to live truthfully — to listen to the body’s quiet voice before it must cry out in pain, to nurture the soul before despair takes root. Modern life, filled with haste and noise, tempts us to spend our energy recklessly, chasing ambition at the expense of peace. Yet those who live with wisdom know that vitality is sustained not by speed but by stillness, not by excess but by balance. As the ancients said, “The wise man eats to live; the fool lives to eat.”

The lesson, then, is both timeless and urgent: invest in your health as you would in your most precious treasure. Guard your rest as you would your gold. Eat as though your body were a temple. Breathe deeply, move freely, laugh often, and keep your spirit light. These small acts, repeated daily, compound into great wealth — a fortune of well-being that will sustain you when the storms of age or hardship come. For the wealth of the body, like the wealth of the soul, grows only through faithful stewardship.

And so, let the words of Anne Wilson Schaef stand as both reminder and warning: “Good health is not something we can buy.” It is the one fortune that must be earned through wisdom and preserved through gratitude. To neglect it is to trade eternity for a fleeting comfort; to honor it is to build a savings that no thief can steal, no fire can consume, and no currency can measure. Guard it well, for in the end, the richest heart is not the one full of gold, but the one that still beats with strength, serenity, and joy.