This Time I Mean It

Getting Past What Holds You Back with Baby Boomer Weight Loss Expert Scott 'Q' Marcus

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Celebrating Tough Times

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older man thinking

I can’t remember times as difficult as these, and I’ve been around the sun a few dozen times.

I — as well as you if you’re over 65 — am closer to the age of 100 than to the age of 30.

That is a truly remarkable thought when you let it sink in. I mean, remember, we were told not to trust anyone over 30 because they were “over the hill.” Looking at it through the eyes of immortal teens, 30 just seemed so, well, “old.” Of course, that decade flashed by in an instant, and at 40, we started to feel like grown-ups. Then, came the fifties, bifocals, a slightly expanded paunch, planning for retirement, and adult children (who were also fearing 30). Before you could say “I can now take money from my IRA without penalty,” the sixties knocked on the door.

It is the cycle of life. Despite magical thinking and a healthy dose of denial, to all, it finds its way.

Yet, again, as I’m sure for you too, aging doesn’t mean I’m going to curl up in a ball and wait for the grim reaper to knock on my door. I’m still vital and active. I still have dreams. After COVID has become a thing of the past, I will be on the road again, radio blasting, singing to my old faves as I head down that long ribbon of highway, hugging and visiting the people and places I’ve so missed.

As far as I know, I’ve still got several years ahead of me, so I’m back in school, studying a philosophy most of us equate with the “Law of Attraction.”

As a requirement for the class, we are required to journal regularly; something I’ve never done consistently.

Don’t misunderstand. I obviously like writing; this column in many ways is somewhat of a public journal. What holds me back is that I don’t like to write with a pen on paper. My mom wanted me to be a doctor; I learned to write as sloppily as one, but that’s as far as I got. So, to that end, if I record my thoughts in a journal, I won’t be able to decipher my hen scratches when I want to read them. I simply write too quickly, as I’m trying to keep up with my brain, which goes into overdrive. Should I slow down, while I’d be able to read it, my thoughts would evaporate before they got to paper; an empty journal is tragic.

Moreover, what happens if I have a life-changing revelation and my diary is not with me? Future generations will be deprived of my brilliance because I left my journal at home. How horrible would that be!

So, the obvious solution for a perfectionist like me who cannot do it perfectly? Don’t write.

Of late, however, I discovered the glories of an electronic journal, Day One, which syncs to all my mobile devices, computer, and even my watch. It allows me to record and tag my thoughts at any time, automatically logging the date, time, location, and even the weather at that moment. I can attach photos or images should I so choose.

One literally thought-provoking built-in feature is it asks a daily question, ranging from “what is your dream chocolate bar?” to “what happens when you die?” [Read more…]

Is it Fear or is it Excitement?

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As if we need yet another way to divide us, I’m going to do it anyway.

There are two types of people in the world: Those who enjoy roller coasters, and those who would rather have sharp object pierce their eyeballs. The difference between is how each rider labels what is happening in their body as they are being hurled over the amusement park’s grounds at 80 miles per hour. As each exits the ride onto the platform, those who enjoyed the experience are screaming in glee, “My God! That was amazing!” Conversely, the others too are yelling: “My God! That was terrifying!”

Upon giving thought to the reactions, the reality is they both experienced the same events, possibly even sitting next to each other. Each viewed the same sights; felt the wind racing across their skin; faced (literally) the identical ups and downs at the same precise periods. Their bodies felt equivalent forces acting on them; heart rates elevated; breathing increased and shallow; g-forces pushing on them without a difference.

The only variance was whether they labeled those sensations as “fear” or as “excitement”

In that word, lies all the difference.

Excitement is anticipatory; propelling us forward with a sense of awe and an expectation of positive results forthcoming; our senses are heightened. Excitement triggers creativity, sparking us to ask of ourselves, “What if…?” From such analysis, inspired energy explodes outward, saturating our views with the prospect of what might be. Excitement spreads outward, embraces the next; moving us eagerly, joyfully, expectantly, and fully aware into new experiences.

Fear, on the other hand, is protective; alerting us to – in reality, or perception –pending danger. Of course, that triggers the fight or – most likely – flight response. Physically and emotionally, we shrink, hunkering down, seeking shelter with a laser focus, ignoring all that surrounds us. We desperately hunt for avenues to extricate ourselves from what we perceive as a threat, our one and only objective — overpowering all else — is “make it stop.” Nothing else matters.

Neither emotion is good nor bad; they simply are.

Without the cautionary voice of fear, we would not survive. Without excitement, we do not thrive nor love nor grow; we merely exist.

You might be saying, “That’s all well and good, but I don’t care what you call it, there’s no way I’m getting into a rickety, coffin-shaped mechanism and allowing myself to be hurled at excessive speeds up and down a skinny metal track while secured only by a bar and a belt. Call it what you wish, that’s just nuts.”

Yet the implications of understanding the difference between these two twin-sibling emotions can make all the difference in the path of our lives. As I’ve said oft-times, “What we say to ourselves determines what we do to ourselves.” To that end, let’s move it into the real world of 2020.

I’ll own up to being frightened; there is much to be fearful about. I don’t want to get COVID; it strikes terror in me. I am filled with consternation about financial collapse and not being able to survive well and easily into my later years. I am deeply dismayed at the level of discourse and violence shattering our country. I shudder at the affront shown to vulnerable populations. I am anxious about our planet; I know Earth will survive – but will we? I am upset about the world in which future generations will be raised. There is much to be worried about.

I am scared. I admit it. I own it. And when I so focus, I, by default, contract, hopeless, stagnant, hunkered down, immobile; a passenger in my own life.

Yet, I also know that from pain births greatness.

I don’t understand why they have to be related but I accept that they are. While admittedly timorous, the prospect of cooperative peoples overcoming climate change, injustice, and financial inequity fills me with hope. I can imagine a world where we live in balance with our environment, where disagreement is resolved civilly and respectfully, and those elected ‑— via free and fair contests — seek only the betterment of all concerned. That prospect is exciting.

Of course, I don’t know how it will turn out. Both are formless futures. Yet, together they reside in possibility at the same time, neither path locked in. Should I paint tomorrow with the hues of “excitement,” I will move forward toward that vision. Should I brand it as “fear,” I shall remain stagnant, allowing that vision to manifest.

One day, we’ll exit this ride, one way or another. When we place our feet firmly or shakily onto the platform, what will be the conclusion of the statement: “My God, that was…”?

The choice is ours.

About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a professional speaker and founder of www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com, where he can be contacted for coaching, consulting, and presentations. During this social distancing period, he is conducting monthly on-line workshops on setting goals and getting past what holds you back. You can find out more at www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com/intentions

How’s Your Attitude?

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The social media meme displays the number “13” who is saying to all the other numbers, “I’m the worst number ever!”

Six-six-six replied, “I’ve got you beat.” Twenty-twenty chimes in, “Contest over.”

One cannot live in times like these without paying the toll.

We internalize our environment, affecting how we feel and even infecting our beliefs; the result is that we view our lives differently than if circumstances were otherwise. As evidence, utilizing an example from the late Zig Zigler, picture your typical morning. Imagine your attitude. Rate it on a one-to-ten scale; most of us land somewhere between six and eight most times. Now, imagine that same “typical” morning, with one aberration: you awake to voice mail from a loved one, “It’s been too long. I’m thinking about you. I can’t wait until we get together. I love you and hope your day is filled with joy.”

It is without a doubt that in scenario two, we’d face the day energized, enthusiastic, and determined. Problems that would have normally knocked us off-trail become insufficient bumps in the asphalt.

Nothing changed — except our attitude. Because it improved, we took on more; facing more upbeat the day ahead, and closing our eyes at night more fulfilled.

Attitude — the complex interaction between feelings and beliefs that affect how we view the world, and therefore how we react to it — matters.

Yet, a question remains: “Is our attitude determined by us or by outside circumstances?”

The honest answer is it’s some of both, but with enough understanding of what determines this mindset, we can wrestle back the reins and become masters of attitude, therefore leading happier, more fulfilling lives — even amid the madness churning around us like a hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico.

Attitude has nothing to do with logic; it’s more primal; it’s “right-brain” driven.

Therefore, telling yourself (or anyone else) to “get over it” is like trying to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and annoys the pig.

To up-level attitude, we must dig deep into what we believe as well as how we process emotions.

[Read more…]

Wisdom from my Hearing Aid

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“Did you know that approximately one-third of all folks your age suffers from hearing loss?”

“What?”

Okay, before you jump on me for being insensitive to those who are hearing impaired, I am one of that one in three.

I also suffer from Tinnitus, which is described as a non-stop ringing in the ears. For me, it’s not a ringing; rather I live in my own private wind storm; there’s a constant hiss that serves as the soundtrack of my life. At times it’s a whisper, sometimes it’s a gale, yet it’s unrelenting. Most likely it’s the result of being a rock ‘n’ roll disc jockey from my teens into my thirties. Regrettably, it matters not how I contracted it, it makes itself known from the moment I rise until I fall asleep.

I thought that the unending whisper that accompanied me 24/7 was normal until I heard a public service announcement about it, raising my consciousness to its existence. Turning to my wife, I asked, “What do you hear when it’s silent?”

She looked at me as if I had two noses, perplexed,

“What do you mean, what do I hear when it’s silent? It’s silent. I don’t hear anything.”

“You don’t hear a hiss?”

“No, I don’t hear anything.”

Henceforth, I realized this was not the norm and began pursuing options to rid myself of it.

Although one will see ads for cures on social media and some experts claim that everything from Paxil to microdoses of LSD will alleviate the problem, there is no cure except patience and habituation, just getting used to it.

Once I became aware of my hearing issues, I also realized that I had to turn up the television to a deafening level, needed closed captions to follow the dialog, and annoyed the hell out of my life-partner by repeatedly asking her to speak up. Although vanity delayed me from seeking help, I finally decided that hearing better beat out the need to deny my aging and I was fitted for hearing aids.

They’re not your grandfather’s hearing aids.

[Read more…]

Seeking Joy in Difficult Times

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Twenty-twenty was supposed to be “our” year.

My wife is crossing into a significant new decade age-wise (aren’t they all?). I was supposed to “retire” – in whatever definition that was. This month commemorates our twentieth anniversary; we were planning a recommitment shindig and a nice long tropical vacation. Buzzing with anticipation for all that would come this year; that was us last December.

Said John Lennon, “Life is what happens when you’re making other plans.”

The year literally began with a bad case of the flu on January 1. That should have been an omen. On the same day, our eldest cat’s health began a steep too-rapid decline, leading to what would be his passing a few months hence. Want more? We unearthed extremely distressing news about a family member; the kind of tabloid information you’d hear on one of those daytime TV dysfunction fests. Less important, but still adding to the pressure, our washing literally burned up and our sink’s faucet could have been replaced with a fountain. I’m sure you’ve got stories too.

We tried focusing on the positive. Knowing Tiger’s passing was imminent, we promised that after it happened, we’d grieve, lick our wounds for a short while, and then get away for a few days just the two of us; something we haven’t been able to do in too long. Afterward, we’d put together plans for our “Celebrate 2020” vacation. Panama Canal cruise? Trip to Europe? Two weeks in Hawaii? The choices were endless – and invigorating.

Yeah, not so much.

I am so disappointed about how this year has evolved.

I know. It’s not just me; it’s you too. It’s the elderly couple across the street self-isolating. It’s the maid at the Best Western who was let go due to a lack of guests. Grocery clerks insufficiently protected by panels of acrylic are feeling it. Health care providers are suffering PTSD. Mom and pop restauranteurs feel immeasurable guilt about laying off employees; simply hoping to survive. Teachers want to return to classrooms, but not at the risk of dying. Spiritual communities and self-help groups are shuttered.

It’s a cluster.

EVERYONE is disappointed; it’s the global zeitgeist.

[Read more…]

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Scott "Q" Marcus 707 834.4090 scottq@thistimeimeanit.com

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