This Time I Mean It

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

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What Makes One Happy?

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Sometimes, life is just plain freakin’ glorious.

Sitting next to a loved one, inhaling deeply the cool air of an autumn night while watching the sun slip soundlessly over the horizon, casting shades of red, orange, yellow in a broad fan across the sky, backlighting the clouds; can it really get better than that?

Sure, I guess it could. But if life consisted of an unending string of moments such as those, why go to Heaven? It’s all right here.

Actually, when you think about it, our lives are probably pretty good more times than they’re not.

I mean, yeah, “stuff” happens; into every life some crap must fall and all that. But, really, unless life has dealt you unending sucker punches, those moments are thankfully scattered.

To that end, I’ve stolen a line from one of my favorite talk show hosts, Thom Hartmann. When a caller gets on the line, they many times robotically ask, “How are you?” Mr. Hartmann’s reply — which I’ve now commandeered — is “I’m great, but I’ll get better.” Try it sometimes. Others find it perplexing. Oft times only hearing “I’ll get better,” they’ll react, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear things aren’t going well.” If they actually pay attention, in many instances, I’ll get a chuckle. Yet, mostly, they just don’t know how to handle it; no one says how great things are. It’s just not done.

So, why do we so often downplay the beauty and exhilaration that is this thing called “Life?”

[Read more…]

This Time, We Are All Thai

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I really was planning to put out a brand-spanking new column today.

However, as my grandmother used to say,

“Man plans, God laughs.”

At least this time, I’m laughing with optimism, not cynicism.

In case you’ve missed it, a dozen Thai boys, aged 11 to 16, and their coach, disappeared when flooding trapped them in a cave a few weeks ago. After a desperate ten-day search, in what can be described as no less than a miracle, they’ve been found, surviving in an air pocket half a mile underground and 1½ miles into the cave. All things considered, they’re healthy.

That’s the good news.

“We found them safe. But the operation isn’t over,” said the governor of the province. The divers who discovered them had to make their way through a byzantine, water-filled up-and-down passageway which is extremely narrow, making it difficult for them to even fit through it with their gear. They were repeatedly blocked by rising water that filled sections of the cave and forced them to withdraw. Nonetheless, they persevered.

The boys however are not trained for such arduous work; none of them knowing how to swim, yet alone dive. Therefore, figuring out their escape plan is problematic. It is estimated that they might have to live underground for weeks — or even months — while a strategy to extract them is developed.

We’re not out of the woods — or more accurately, cave — quite yet.

In following this story, the feeling I have, is mostly of hope. Yet, despite literally thousands of people working 24/7 to bring these young men topside, the road home is as complicated as the tunnels that must be navigated for safe return.

In October, 2010 the entire world watched as 33 Chilean trapped miners emerged to safety. Ironically (or maybe not) the “attitudinal climate” back then paralleled today’s. Therefore, I can only hope and affirm that the outcome in 2018 will also be the same. I believe that if we can picture such a result, we too will be able to cheer collectively the good news we know is waiting to happen.

Back then, our “leaders” (quotation marks necessary) were acting with a prevalence of boorish, childish, self-absorbed behaviors (sound familiar?). Political discourse then — and now —  once considered noble and eloquent, had degraded to what one would overhear between bullies in a kindergarten sandbox.

Virtually nothing positive seems to have been accomplished.

The rivalries endure, even harsher. Our planet hurts. More people suffer. Has anything changed?

When I originally wrote of the mineworkers, after having been trapped 70 days in a Chilean mine, they were being hoisted, one by one, through a narrow tube, from half mile underground, to the loving embrace of friends, family, and an enrapt world. To survive, they supported, encouraged, and counseled each other. In a place literally as close to Hell as any humans have ever existed, their better Angels held forth.

When Florencio Avalos, the first to emerge, exited the wire cage that brought him topside, the entire world was Chilean. We felt the embrace of his wife and the relief of his child. We cried tears of joy as he breathed in fresh air for the first time in over two months. We shared the bear hug with the Chilean president and our chests swelled with pride while the crowd chanted “Chi-Chi-Chi! Le-Le-Le!” With each man’s emergence from 622 meters below the Atacama Desert, we willingly experienced it — more accurately, longed for it — again and again and again.

From tragedy rose hope, like the Phoenix capsule in which the miners emerged into the Chilean sun.

They survived, in no small part, because they knew they were one; a lesson oft overlooked.

Now, again, we wait. This drama plays out half-a-world distant. Their nationality, race and ages are as dissimilar from each other as are the climates in which they live. Yet, we — each of us, all of us — yearns for the same outcome as that which took place south of the equator almost a decade past.

In our present environment, we NEED for these dozen young men to emerge, blinking in the sun, embraced by family; virtually by the entire world. Our days are so dark, we’re counting on good news.  Until that happens — and I know it will because I manage to retain my faith in the Human Spirit — we need to be reminded to be more grateful for what we have. Personally, I might not like the fog, but at least I can hold my wife’s hand and walk freely into it whenever I choose.

Today, we are all Thai.

About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a THINspirational speaker and author. Since losing 70 pounds over 23 years ago, he works with overloaded people and organizations who are looking to improve communication, change bad habits, and reduce stress. He can be reached for consulting, workshops, or presentations at 707.442.6243 or scottq@scottqmarcus.com. He will sometimes work in exchange for chocolate.

Mea Culpa: I Was Unkind (or Was I)?

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“Where do you want me? Under the macramé plant hanger? Really? Didn’t avocado green shag go out in the seventies? All right, all right, I get it! Now is the not the time to be snarky. Just tell me where to go.”

I’ve been called on the carpet.

Recently, I published political opinion on social media. Although posting often, I tend to swerve away from politics for what will shortly become apparent.

Summed up, I catalogued a list of adjectives I felt portrayed one of our politicians.

I’ll own up to the fact that it was less than complementary. However, in my defense, I chose only clearly defined descriptors, veering away from words which criticized physical traits, instead targeting behaviors – which can be transformed. So, as example, I didn’t use the expression “stupid”; a derogatory, extremely judgmental, non-defensible term for someone lacking intelligence. Rather, opting for “ignorant,” meaning uneducated; a state of being that can be remedied if so chosen. Selecting watchfully, I picked words based on measurable, modifiable behaviors. As a mentor of mine said, “Judge the verb, not the noun.”

Most of the responses — as expected — echoed my sentiment; after all, they’re my “friends.” A few folks disagreed. For the most part, they were respectful (kinda…) I countered, in the interest of opening dialog (well, truth be told, also to defend my position).

I expected dissent. What I didn’t foresee was a very simple observation from a long-term reader of this column who stated, “aren’t you the guy who believes in kindness first?”

Ouch. Don’t you hate having principles?

As much as I disliked having to admit it, he might be correct.

How could I defend my post while still remaining true to my belief? At first blush, the two appeared at loggerheads.

It’s easy to be a person of integrity when everyone shares your values; the test comes when challenged logically and respectfully. His post triggered no small amount of consternation, causing me to question, “Is it unkind to point out someone’s flaws?” [Read more…]

Walking a Minefield: Tribute to Friend

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It’s been said the difference between depression and grief is that the former seduces, while the latter attacks.

Whether it’s delivered by phone, direct conversation, email, or – ever more prevalent these days – via social media; the effects remain the same. Word blasts you in the solar plexus as a surprising sucker punch. A tsunami of shock flooding away whatever thoughts had been active the instant prior, blood rushes from your head, you stagger slightly, and then the awful reality of the moment clamps itself firmly on to your psyche, a rabid dog unwilling to let go.

Shake it as you might, the jaws of grief hold tightly; the only effective tools to pry loose its pincers are acceptance of this new horrific, hurting actuality; and patience, allowing time to apply — however slowly — its healing salve.

Looking back on the twisted road that to date has been my life’s journey, one of the main thoroughfares on which I’ve traveled has been my involvement in the media.

Starting as a college DJ at UCLA, I spent decades on the air and behind the scenes, eventually ending up as a media coordinator and consultant (among other jobs). There was an expression among “air personalities” back then: “You can tell the success of a disc jockey by the size of the trailer attached to his car.” Between the years of 1977 and the early eighties, I had no fewer than nine addresses. Tribes of nomads were we, wayfaring across this vast land, U-hauls in tow, pursuing larger audiences and higher wattage, mostly in pursuit of the Holy Grail of prime time on a clear-channel 50,000-watt blowtorch.

Some found it. Most took a detour — as did I, ending up on the Northcoast of California in 1983 to program an AM/FM combo. My original plan? Stay among the redwoods for a few years before moving to the bay area, intent on afternoon drive on KFRC. Should 35 be labeled as “a few years,” there’s still time. (Of course, KFRC has been gone since 2005 so there is that.)

Over the last 24 hours, I’ve heard distressing news about two of the tent posts of my life for these last three-plus decades.

One of my closest friends has been fighting cancer. Recently, he was told there was nothing left to do, “Go home and live your life as well as you can.” I fear that a future column will pay tribute to him.

Yet, today, I awoke to find out that Pete Meyer, morning personality on Power 96 in Eureka, passed away shockingly, suddenly, without foretoken.

It’s appropriate that as I write this, gray clouds suffocate our sky line, embracing the melancholy that this community now collectively bears.

If you don’t live among the towering titan trees and rocky coasts in Humboldt county, I’ll bet you know someone like Pete.

[Read more…]

Gratitude or Willpower? What’s More Effective?

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I know I say this a lot. As a matter of fact, I know you do too. So, say it with me, “I can’t believe January is over already.”

With one month down, so too are the majority of New Year’s Resolutions. Sadly, by the end of the first week of the first month, 30 percent of resolutions have gone the way of all flesh. Come year’s end, only eight percent remain; it’s therefore accurate to deduce that over 90 percent of us give up on our commitments by the time the ball drops on the next year. How frustrating.

There are a few reasons.

Most of us set vague goals.

For example, we say, “This year, I’m going to take better care of myself,” or “I’m going to lose weight,” or “stress less.” Intention positive? Yep. But without a specific action plan, it’s a nebulous, free-floating, hazy decree, dissipating as quickly as the fog which hugs the coast on a summer morning.

Another cause for failure is relying too much on the wrong definition of willpower, too often seen as our ability to white-knuckle bully our way through temptation.

Willpower is NOT the ability to take a long-term stand, plant our feet, cross our arms, and defiantly proclaim, “I won’t give in!” Rather, if we reframe the definition to, “I won’t give in THIS ONE TIME,” we alleviate much of the self-imposed pressure, upping the odds we’ll actually accomplish what we say we want.

Willingness to forgo short-term pleasure for a long-term benefit is rarely easy, and when stressed, tired, angry, or sad; it essentially puts us at odds with our own internal drive, paradoxically increasing the stressor and further eroding the potential for success. This causes self-flagellation and – in the end – we throw in the towel “until next year,” repeating yet again the hopeless cycle.

Backing this up are studies conducted by David DeSteno, professor of psychology at Northeastern University, and author of Emotional Success: The Power of Gratitude, Compassion, and Pride. As he points out,

“Choosing to rely on rational analysis and willpower to stick to our goals, [is] disadvantaging ourselves … If using willpower to keep your nose to the grindstone feels like a struggle, that’s because it is. Your mind is fighting against itself. It’s trying to convince, cajole and, if that fails, suppress a desire for immediate pleasure.”

Professor DeSteno proposes that gratitude and compassion are more likely to yield valuable results because those emotions naturally lead us to be patient, which logically, increases the odds that we’ll stick with a task.

[Read more…]

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

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