There are “big picture” and “smaller picture” health choices.
A lump in one’s breast is “big picture.” Finding time to take a walk or choosing between deep fried or grilled chicken could be classified, “smaller picture.” Granted making enough wise “smaller picture” health choices is a “big picture” issue in the end. However for discussion sake, “big picture” issues are beyond the control of the every-person, requiring action without delay. “Smaller picture” issues provide choice and possess the luxury of time.
So, although lowering my sodium intake today, a smaller picture issue, will not have a direct affect in the immediate, it could – over time — determine whether or not I get high blood pressure and a stroke, a definite “big picture” issue.
The “big picture” is made of infinite “small pictures.”
“Big pictures” require more knowledge to correct than do “small pictures.” As example, no one has the wherewithal to preform self-administered angioplasty after suffering a myocardial infarction. Conversely, when it comes to the “small picture,” we usually possess enough understanding to know what to do. It doesn’t take a cardio surgeon’s expertise to know that a deep dish, 12-meat-special, 24-inch pizza infused with gooey, dripping, cheese crust is not as healthy as a veggie stir-fry. One need not be an Olympic athlete to recognize that a morning walk is healthier that catching up with gossip on “The View.” Even non-scholars comprehend that reading is a superior way to relax than is the third martini.
We appreciate these to be true. Moreover, unlike “big picture” decisions, we maintain control over our decisions and actions.
Most of us just don’t DO them often enough, getting so bound up in our day-to-day routines that we don’t even think about doing something different until the moment is over. While collapsing into bed, we remember, “Oh yeah. I was going to take a walk today. Well, there’s always tomorrow…” Our intention might have been positive; we simply forgot.
To adjust, we must be reminded of what matters IN THE MOMENT that it does; providing us with the luxury of slowing ourselves down long enough to making a conscious choice to do it – or not. We must become the driver, not the passenger, in our life.
An “anchor” does so, reminding us what really matters.
A perfect example of an anchor is a wedding ring (um, that’s not supposed to sound like it just did). Suppose you possessed two rings worth the same amount in dollars and cents, with one being your wedding ring. To which would you ascribe more value? The answer obviously is the wedding ring. (If not, marriage counseling might be in order.) Wedding rings remind us of our vows and the commitments we took. Each time we touch it, we remember what matters and make decisions to continue down the path.
We possess a multitude of anchors.
In my mother’s bathroom was a $10 round, light blue clock. After she passed away, I brought it to my house; where to this day, every time I see it, whether brushing my hair or shaving; it conjures up memories of times she and I shared. If the clock ceased to work, would I buy another? Not a chance, no other timepiece contains the emotional value anchoring me to mom.
Unhealthy small picture decisions are more likely when we become un-moored; yet it’s simple to become re-tethered.
Imagine success — in whatever fashion that means. Attach those emotions to a necklace you always wear, a photo in your possession, or even a memory. Before making a small picture decision that could set you back, take a breath, grab your anchor, hold on for a couple of minutes, and be amazed how the big picture comes into bright focus.
About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a nationally known weight loss expert for baby boomers and the CRP (Chief Recovering Perfectionist) of www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com Get his free ebook of motivational quotations and one year of his highly-popular Monday Motivational Memos at no charge by visiting his website. He is also available for coaching and speaking.