I don’t know whether I like this more because it’s such a brilliant marketing campaign or because it’s just so freakin’ cool!
Don’t you dare bring me donuts!
My mother, Ruth, who battled obesity for her first 69 years, re-arranged her habits to shed 80 pounds over the next three years.
With the exception of those who knew her previously, she refused to speak of this noteworthy accomplishment. One doesn’t forgo favorite foods, increase (or begin) exercise, deal with tamped down feelings, and in general, upend one’s entire lifestyle unless the result is deeply desired. It’s a lot of effort to revamp mind and body; therefore most folks find it worthy of recognition. As I said, “most” — not all. “Why don’t you let people know about your weight loss?” I wondered. Her answer: “I should have never let myself get so out of control that I weighed that much in the first place.” My mother was incredibly understanding of almost anyone’s shortcomings — except her own. “None of us are perfect,” I replied, “The thing is you tackled it. Many people your age would have just given up. You didn’t.”
“I did what had to be done, which I should have done a long time before.” Once my mom made up her mind, there was no arguing.
Three years to lose 80 pounds, even when accomplished in a healthy fashion, is still slower than the norm.
In part, that pace was the result of the parameters upon which she insisted. Although she took a practical approach — smaller portions, daily walks, group support — her speed was retarded because she refused to sacrifice desserts. In mom’s world, one always saved room for dessert. (Hmmmm, might this be a window in why I had my own weight problems?) “I don’t mind losing a tenth of a pound a week,” she affirmed, “as long as I can have dessert.” Knowing how strong however was the temptation to go overboard with goodies, she banished from her home the most problematic caloric treats, and compensated by buying sugar free or low calorie. However, she continued to have dessert after every meal. Enter Joe; a white-haired, mustachioed, elegant, dapper widower — who might have been lifted from a Fred Astaire movie. [Read more…]
Attitude Calling
At the dawn of my sales career, a co-worker gave me a cassette: Zig Ziglar’s “Secrets of Closing the Sale.”
Reluctantly plugging it into the tape machine, I expected to eject it (and the ideas) immediately after the slack on the tape was absorbed. Instead, I became a fan of the old-time motivator from Yazoo City who postulated that health, wealth, and happiness are the natural results of treating others well and that attitude is essential in doing so.
Years have passed, and unfortunately so has Mr. Ziglar, but I still remember vividly a scenario he used to illustrate how fluid is our perception. (I’ve altered the concept, but felt it important to give credit to its origin.)
Picture rising on your “average” day, nothing exhilarating or dreadful is on the agenda. As you rub the sleep from your eyes and swing your bare feet from the softness of the bed to the hardness of the floor, using a one-to-ten scale, think about how you’d rate your attitude. Sure, some days barely merit a “one;” others are heavenly, generating a “ten.” But — on the run-of-the-mill everyday — what ranking would you choose? (FYI, based on a long-term survey I conduct, the majority of respondents end up at 7.9.)
Attitude locked in place; you interact in usual fashion with friends, families, and vendors. As the day fades into history, you retire, expecting to rise again tomorrow and repeat the process. Not meaning to cast our existence as mundane; but, it is most of what life is in present-day America.
So, let’s shake it up.
Again, imagine the ordinary morning. However, this dawn you are jolted into consciousness by a ringing telephone. Glancing at the clock and noting the early hour, your first thoughts are concern, “Who is calling this early? What’s wrong?”
Yes Dear, Whatever You Say Dear…
I’ll admit it; I’m wimpy when it comes to confrontations.
I don’t like people getting mad at me. So oft times, I go out of my way to pre-appease them; assuming they won’t like something and sidestepping the issue all together. Yes, I realize I’m co-dependent and yes, I’m trying to stop; I even tried to form a support group for co-dependents but no one would give me per-mission. (Insert rim shot here…)
What this means is that I become concerned that my politics or opinions might show through my writing, resulting in me being harangued by internet “trolls” who have nothing better to do than spend every waking hour scouring the interwebs waiting to pounce on anything I write. (Self-importance much?)
In fairness, my concern is not without basis.
I’ve been flamed because of my views on guns, political candidates, and even negative communication styles (obviously missing the irony). The column that garnered the most hate mail was a humorous piece where I postulated the theory that, based on a trip to New Orleans, the only foods allowed in the south must be deep-fried. (I was even accused of trying to re-ignite the civil war; really.)
Anyhoo… my concern with attempting to avert these curmudgeons can — at times — cause me to pick and choose my topics and words with extreme care. After all, someone a thousand miles away, reading my piece two weeks after I wrote it might feel awkward and shoot negative vibes toward me. Goodness knows! I wouldn’t want that to happen.
Like I said: co-dependent.
This piece however might cause a ruffle or two much closer to home, including in my own household so I now begin to tread in dangerous places.
New and recent findings, published in the journal Emotion, show that long-term marital satisfaction depends on wives — more so than husbands — regulating their emotions during arguments. Researchers from two major universities found that the happi-est marriages, in both the short and long-term, were those where the wives were able to regain their self-control quickly after disputes erupted.
The lead author of the study (whom I point out is a woman) said, [Read more…]
3 Issues You’ll Deal With When a Non-Immediate Family Member Dies
You weren’t close with Uncle Fred, seeing him only on the holidays or the occasional dinner at your parent’s house. Even though you knew about his heart condition, his death still came as a shock to you. Your natural response to grieve is understandably accompanied by the urge to do something constructive. Since Uncle Fred was a non-immediate family member, you won’t be expected to make any of the arrangements. Still, reaching out to offer help and support would be cathartic.
You would think that, after centuries of dealing with death, there would be a cut-and-dry way to go about it. Unfortunately, there isn’t. Everyone is different and grieves in different ways, and for some reason — even when it’s expected — it takes you off guard. Though you feel helpless and are trying to deal with your own grief, there are things you can do to ease the suffering around you. And that alone can have a therapeutic effect.