The holidays are coming! The holidays are coming!

Love the holiday season or hate it; whether you have a big family or a smal one; whether you're traveling or staying home; this time of the year is the most difficult time to stay focused and on track. That's why so many people give up on their goals and say, "I'll start again in January." It just seems like it's too dificult to keep moving forward. This year, you can make it different. You can actually enter January feeling like you're on track and moving forward.

Make fourth quarter 2014 your best ever by attending this exciting end-of-year event!

Based on "The Big 5 of Habit Change," by Scott "Q" Marcus, this is the fourth - and possibly most important so far - in a series of uplifting, educational, playful seminars to help you get past what holds you back. In a safe, playful, creative environment with other like-minded folks, you will develop simple tools to help identify the barriers you face and then develop easy steps to allow them to overcome those obstacles so that when fall and the following holidays come barreling through, you'll be happier, healthier, and more successful.

Even if you don't celebrate the holidays, this program is essential for your own mental health.

What will we do at the session?

We will line out which days (and weeks) will be most problematic
Using the support of the group, we will come up with solutions to your most vexing problems
We'll use a four-question technique to make sure your objectives can actually get done
We'll set out a stategy to do it
You'll work out a agreement with yourself and with someone else to support you
You'll have fun and feel encouraged and motivated

You will also have the option to continue to be supported for the entire year.

To see a more complete agenda and all the FAQs, scroll down.

Why should you attend? Summed up: If you feel overwhelmed or overloaded - especially at this time of year - this seminar will send you on your way focused and enthused. You will have:

More self-confidence, leading to the ability to do what you normally would not do
Improved attitude, making you happier so you enjoy your life more. It will also help you have better relationships with the people you care about
Better understanding of yourself, causing you to not feel like a victim but to feel empowered. It will also give you the ability to block future problems earlier, before they grown to be unmanageable.
Better health so you can live a happier, longer, less-stressed life

Who would most benefit from this session? In a nutshell: if you have ever been frustrated with yourself, this is for you!

Baby boomers, especially women, who are concerned that poor habit choices are lowering their quality of life
Anyone wanting to lose weight or change other bad habits
People who are interested in or appreciate self-improvement seminars
"Graduates" of previous sessions

The Details:

Coffee/tea will be served
Dress is casual; the more casual the better
100% satisfaction no-hassle guarantee: If you attend and you don’t think it’s worth it, you get your money back. No questions. No arguments.

To see a more complete agenda and all the FAQs, scroll down.

To see all the FAQs, scroll down.

A Testimonial from a Past Client

(Who continues to attend)

Where will it take place?

Humboldt Bay Aquatic Center (next to the Adorni Center) 921 Waterford Drive Eureka, CA 95501

October 25, 2014 10AM-1PM

Event Registration Online for This Time I Mean It! Staying on Task & Focused During the Busiest Time of the Year powered by Eventbrite

FAQ:

Will this be a repeat of previous sessions?

No.

Although the theme, "5 Habits," remains in place and we'll do a recap and an overview in each session, each session is a stand-alone seminar.

You say it's "interactive." What happens if I don't want to get involved?

You don't have to. You can just sit and observe. The number rule of the session is that it's a "safe place to be." Be as involved as you feel like.

Can I register at the door?

It depends on how many people pre-register. The room has limited space. (Plus you save money if you register in advance.)

What happens if I'm not happy with what I got?

There is a 100% satisfaction no-hassle guarantee: If you attend and you don’t think it’s worth it, you get your money back. No questions. No arguments.

How do I dress?

Casual; anything but naked. (But, if you really want too...)

Will food be served?

No. However, there will be coffee, tea, and water.

Will there be breaks?

Yes, at least one.

What is the cancellation policy?

If you cancel 96 hours (4 days) or earlier, you will get a full refund, but it will take up to 14 days to credit you (although it might be quicker). If it's less than 96 hours or less, we'll give you full credit for future presentations or towards coaching. It will be valid for one year.

I'm still unsure. What else can I do?

Call Scott at 707.442.6243 or contact him via the on-line form.

Richard Borough

Ironically, I might never have met him if it wasn’t for this column.

I had been publishing it for about five years when a woman in one of my meetings pulled me aside as the meeting ended. Almost in a whisper, as if not wanting to be a tattletale, she said, “I think somebody is plagiarizing you.”

“Why?” I asked.

She pulled from her purse a clipped article from the local paper written by Dr. Richard Borough, Ph.D. “Look at this,” she said, tapping the paper, “It’s the same thing you talk about in our meetings. You might want to call him.” The piece was about SMART goals.

“Thank you,” I said, “But, no, he didn’t copy me. That’s a common technique among those of us who work on goal setting.”

It was, however, enough of a prompt for me to reach out and introduce myself to him.

Richard ran a business support group, “Mastermind Alliance,” which he developed years prior when he was getting his practice on its feet in the bay area. When he moved to the Northcoast, he relocated its meetings, eventually expanding it also to the Central Valley. I had heard of it from business associates, almost always spoken of in hushed reverence; regarded as a blend of the “Million Dollar Circle” and the Who’s Who of local entrepreneurs. Great minds developed great concepts within its monthly get-togethers; only the best were invited.

Richard asked me to attend the first day we met. I don’t know if I was a “Great Mind,” yet I enjoyed the camaraderie, companionship, and supportive sharing. As my career morphed and changed, I no longer needed to attend; however, it remained on my calendar and whenever an open Wednesday made itself available, I was there.

Richard was at first a mentor, but as we worked jointly on projects, and discovered we had so many similarities, such as writing, speaking, marketing, and coaching; we developed a tight bond. He reached out to me for suggestions as often as I with him. It was inevitable that Richard and I became more than friends. I know the expression is somewhat overused, but he really did feel like a brother. I never had a brother, let alone an older one. Richard filled that role, as well as being a loyal friend.

For some reason unbeknownst to me, we didn’t go out often, only doing so on each other’s birthdays.

That was it, no more. Yet we never missed it. That unto itself was not so odd, but he insisted that we forever, every time, without fail, visit Oaxaca Grill and always order the same meal. We would do so on his birthday each year — and then again on mine. Despite suggestions from me, no other options were considered.

“Why do we always come here?” I asked. “Why not somewhere else?”

“I like this restaurant.” He replied simply as if that answered everything.

Is it Fear or is it Excitement?

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

Hanging Around Getting Fit

There is confusion as to why the current pandemic’s virus is named “COVID-19.”

The CDC, on its website, explains, “In COVID-19, ‘CO’ stands for ‘corona,’ ‘VI’ for ‘virus,’ and ‘D’ for the disease.” “Nineteen” refers to the year the virus was discovered.

Not wishing to disagree with such an esteemed, well-respected, scientific organization but, in the same manner that the “Freshman 15” refers to the 15 pounds many first-time college students gain in their first year, the 19 in COVID-19 is, in reality, a reference to how much weight most of us gain while stuck in our abodes, gulping junk food, watching Netflix, and hoping to survive until 2021. After all, let’s be honest, if the apocalypse is nigh, does it really matter how many Twinkies I consume?

So, while commemorating “south of the border night” on my couch (a celebration in which I engage several nights a week), consisting of an extra-large helping of nachos and a Margarita (or two), I had to unbuckle my belt and was therefore painfully confronted with the fact that I was becoming a tad “thick around the middle.”

“Nah, not me,” thought I. After all, everyone knows that calories consumed to medicate feelings of sadness or anxiety don’t add pounds. Clearly, my belt shrunk. Hefting myself from the sofa like a nine-month pregnant woman struggling to rise, I waddled to the scale, only to be alarmed at the number flashing before me.

“NO! Can’t be,” said I, putting down the bean dip and wiping the melted cheese from my face, “Time for a new scale.”

“Honey,” I called out, seeking confirmation that I remained as svelte as a 27-year-old fitness trainer, “Am I putting on weight?”

<crickets>

“Honey? Did you hear me?” I bellowed again from the bathroom scale while contorting myself into various poses on the platform to lower the number. (None worked.)

From the kitchen, the garbage disposal activates, blasting forth an earsplitting racket; my wife shouting over the din, “Sorry dear, I can’t hear you. Talk to me later.”

Point taken.

Faced with an indisputable truth, I – being the motivator that I am – decided to immediately commence a plan to flatten my stomach. Eating fewer chips would be a good start, but I wasn’t quite “there” yet. Instead, opting to strengthen my arms and make flat my belly by pulling out timeworn exercise equipment stored in the back of the closet since the Carter administration. I lugged the “ab flattener” sit-up machine into the guest room, blew off the dust (coughed repeatedly), and located it in the center of the floor. Next, pushing aside old moth-ridden blankets, and beyond the tchotchkes in boxes, I yanked loose my ancient pull-up bar, secured it to the door jamb, and gave it a yank or two to ensure it could support my now-heftier bulk.

“Okay,” said I to myself, picturing six-pack abs within the week. “What is my strategy?”

These are troubling times, to say the least.

We are confronting the most widespread, extensive, global health emergency in at least 100 years. Our economy is staggering like a boxer battered into delirium. Opinions have become “facts.” Social unrest is boiling. Political “discourse” (such as it is), centered around the removal or retention of arguably the most controversial, divisive, polarizing administration anyone can remember; has devolved to that of a couple of three-year-olds shouting “You’re a poo-poo head!” “No, your face is!” It feels like we’re together, untethered in a 1950s rusty, claptrap old school bus; sans seatbelts, careening down a potholed mountain roadway, out of control, hanging on for dear life while screaming in terror for someone to save us as we hurl towards a cliff on November 3. We’re hoping we don’t go over the edge; assuming all will eventually be okay. Yet, that grating, inner voice refuses to shut up, saying, “Don’t get your hopes up” continues to grow louder. I just want it all to stop.

But wait, there’s more!

Ghia, Mother Earth, is facing an existential crisis, resulting in unending firestorms, relentless flooding, bone dry draughts, and – in general – exceptionally severe weather, which is devastating property and lives (including non-human) on an unprecedented global level. (For the record, I long to live in a world where the word, “unprecedented” is no longer a standard adjective.)

The vise-grip, chest-squeezing, anxiety-producing catalog of happenings has us on hairpin triggers, damaging our collective and emotional physical, and mental health. For those of us who can remember it, 1968 is a Disney fairy tale compared to the Stephen King horror story of 2020. No one – not a single person alive today – has lived through an upheaval like this ever. Not one of us.

Of course, I don’t need to tell you that. You see it. You feel it. You’re living it, just as am I.

As goes the curse, we are living in “fascinating” times. It’s challenging to hold hope high when even the sky is covered in a thick blanket of burnt smoke.

Yet, a flicker crossed my mind.

photo of orange skies from northcoast journal

Photo was taken from www.northcoastjournal.com. Click on the image to be taken to the story.

Today was supposed to be a sunny warm day on the beautiful north coast of California.

you know, that part of the country known for majestic redwoods; rocky coastlines; Victorian buildings, and breezy blue heavens. Yet, instead of light gusts and azure skies, the atmosphere is strangled by a thick, putrid orange-brown, which is holding back the light from getting through. House lights are on yet darkness swallows us. I have to remind myself that this is not night; it’s lack of light. Because of the gloom, I keep thinking any moment will rise the sun and the skies will clear.

Alas, not today. This is the day of the dark.

I know I’ve said it a gazillion times. I know virtually everyone else has too. But 2020 is a year for the record books. This chapter in time makes the tumult and turmoil of 1968 seem like a fairy tale compared to what we face these days.

It’s hard to remember that as the year began, the biggest points of contention were political: a couple of dozen Democratic candidates vying for the presidency; an investigation into the president; and the subsequent impeachment. We were divided. We were angry.

News of a pandemic began its spread in late winter; come March, our vocabulary included terms previously unknown: social distancing and self-isolate. We secluded ourselves. We were scared.

We did our best to adapt.

The economy and stock market collapsed. Events of every nature were canceled. Workers were laid off, companies shuttered, food lines returned; it was a flashback to the great depression a century ago. We were alarmed.

We adapted as well as we could.

Countless millions the globe over, took to the streets to proclaim black lives matter and protest the deaths at the hands of police of black men; “Karen” became a meme of privilege. We were outraged.

And again, we adapted.

If you’re old enough to read, you’re old enough to remember everything else that has happened this year; almost 200,000 dead Americans and millions of infected fellow citizens; voter suppression; super-spreader events; hurricanes and floods; accelerated climate change couple with the hottest day on record; bringing us to today’s fires. As fall approaches, we are warned of election tampering and more violence. Oh yes, come winter the pandemic will bring with it the winter flu.

“Apocalypse” has been thrown around like a water balloon on a hot summer day. One might say it’s overused. However, it feels like the end-of-days is right around the corner. These are undoubtedly unmatched times. None of us have lived through a pandemic nor experienced an economic crash of this magnitude. Only those of us that are older have been through this much social upheaval. Climate change has never been so dire. Needless to say, the combination of all is indeed “unprecedented,” another over-used but accurate word.

It’s difficult to keep the choking fear at bay. Although I’m not an angry person, I find myself mad almost all the time; wishing desperately to blame someone, something – anything – for this B-quality horror flick in which I find myself. If this was a script, it would never have been green-lit. “No one will believe this,” would have been the studio execs response.

A Humboldt County Seminar, October 25, 2014