Trying Times

I am trying to lose a few pounds (again).

I'd put odds on the fact that I'm not the only person in our sleepy burg with such a stated goal. Others are trying things too: stop smoking, be more active, spend more time with their families. As a whole, we TRY many things. The more important question is, "Are we DOING them?"

I wish I could remember which wise sage pointed out "trying" is "saying 'no' with grace."

A friend lost into your past surprises you by reappearing while you are squeezing cantaloupes at the grocery store. Pre-ordained ceremonial niceties commence, "How are your kids? What's your husband doing these days? Are you still working at the same place?" It's a pleasurable oasis of exchange with someone who used to be close. Yet, after the first few paragraphs, what remains to be said? An awkward silence slithers between you until finally you utter, "Let's get together and catch up. It's been too long."

She replies warmly, "I'll try and call you next week, OK?"

"Sounds great," you say before exchanging air kisses, and continuing on your mission of securing the finest produce. You know she won't call. You know you won't either.

She could have said, "No, I'm too busy," or "No, I'm not interested." Rather than such bluntness, she replies with the socially approved, milquetoast, "I'll try."

Underlying her intentions was, "No" - delivered with grace.

In those situations, "I'll try" is caring; it diffuses rough, confrontational, unkind exchanges. However, in so many other circumstances, we use "try" as a justification for our own unwillingness to change. After all, what if we give up or decide later that the objective takes too much effort? It hurts to boldly state, "I AM losing a few pounds," only to face questions at a later time when well-meaning friends inquire, "How's the diet going?" It saves face to be able to reply, "I tried, It didn't work," rather than, "I wasn't willing to do it," or "I changed my mind."

In reality, what is there to "try?" Am I actually eating less? Am I really more active? Select one: "yes" or "no." If I choose to not act on my own words, I am not "trying," I am simply "not doing."

Of late, I find myself stating proudly to anyone within earshot what I am "trying" to do. In actuality, I am setting the stage for the excuses I might use at another time.

"I am trying to lose weight," I say.

My friends nod in agreement, commiserating. "It's tough, isn't it?"

"Yes. But I'm really trying hard."

"Good for you," they say, "I admire you."

Yet, my scale has not moved; my waistline has not shrunk. The glaring unavoidable reality is I am not "trying," I am stagnating. The moment has arrived; it is time to stop "trying" and begin "doing."

The use of the word "try" is so addictive; it's tough to ratchet up the commitment to "I'm doing." But I'm trying.

Watch what you say

It never fails to astonish me what difference a few words can make. By the language we use, we can inspire others to feats of heroic sacrifice, create joyful laughter, or change the direction of our own lives. Words matter.

With that as backdrop, Alexander Kuzmin, the 33-year-old mayor of Megion, a Siberian oil town with a population of 54,000, has ordered his bureaucrats to stop using expressions such as "I don't know" and "I can't." If they refuse, they will be hearing a different phrase: “Find another job.” In a world of customer service representatives who would rather point fingers than solve problems, you’ve just got to love this guy!

Kuzmin has banned these and 25 other expressions as a way to make his administration more efficient. Some of the other prohibited phrases are "It's not my job," "It's impossible," "I'm having lunch," and "There is no money." To reinforce the prohibition, a framed list of the banned expressions hangs on the wall next to his office.

"Before,” says one staff member, “It was so easy to say ‘I don't know.’ Now before reporting to the mayor we prepare several proposals on how the problem can be solved."

Isn’t that something? By being forced to avoid certain words, people accomplish more — or at least come up with alternatives.

When you analyze it, it makes great sense. After all, we think in words. Sure, we’re creative sorts; but the process by which we translate those flashes of intuitive brilliance into action is via the internal conversation ever present in our minds. The repetition of that exchange, over years, shapes our view of ourselves, how we react to outside events, and therefore the actions that become our lives. If one wants to permanently change the construction of his life, he must start with the building blocks: those internal words, thoughts.

Take for example the common belief, “I can’t lose weight.” If you, like, are forever fighting gaining weight, try this: Instead of saying “I can’t lose weight,” say out loud with conviction, “I can lose weight. I just don’t want to go through all the work it will take.” You will notice — virtually immediately — an uncomfortable feeling welling up inside you. Why? Words, thoughts, feelings, and beliefs are bound together tighter than a psychological Gordian knot. Disconnecting them is impossible.

I create my beliefs; I do so to make my life run smoother. If I repeat, “I can’t” enough times, I am absolved of the responsibility of trying, leaving time for other “more realistic” pursuits. If I change “I can’t” to, “I won’t,” I am forced — at least in my internal dialogue — to justify my motives, which can sometimes feel rather “messy.” It’s much easier to sidestep the responsibility; after all I’m already very busy.

When I say something different, I feel something different. Different emotions elicit different thoughts. New actions come from such untried thoughts. Life is the result of actions.

Say something different. Repeat often. Watch for new results.

The New Arrival

It doesn't cry or use diapers, but rolls well and I can sit on it. OK, you guessed, I bought a new bicycle! I named it "Specialized Crossroads Sport" (it's easy to pick a name when it comes painted on it). It's a "comfort bike" because riding it is similar to riding a couch. (That is, if your couch rolls up hills and goes against the wind.)

Embarrassingly, by getting a new bike, I felt I was abandoning my old Schwinn Mesa. Of course, it didn't help when my wife said, "I can't believe you're retiring your old bike." Great, pangs of guilt; just what I needed! (Mental note to self: what does it say about me that I get emotionally attached to an inanimate object like a bike? Where is my therapist's phone number?)

First the back story: I'm not someone who does 100 mile cross country marathons, but I do find my way around town, utilizing my bicycle for commuting. I'll ride to meetings, drop off videos, or pick up some groceries. (If you go grocery shopping via bicycle, you save a heck of a lot of money also because you have to lug your goods on your back.) In essence, I do the usual "around town" errands on two wheels instead of four, saving me a few hundred dollars in gasoline, improving my health, and - as an added benefit - feeling I'm making a stand against Big Oil in some small manner.

A bicycle, just like a car (and us), requires regular looking after. Also as with a car, I am not able to provide said maintenance; so I take my metallic steed to the bike shop for adjustments. The last time I brought in my Schwinn, the "bike guy" said the whatchamacallit and the thingamabob were wearing out.

"Not a big deal," adds he (easy to say if you're mechanically apt - unlike me), "But the cost to replace it is more than the bike is worth. You might want to consider one of the newer 'city bikes.'"

City Bikes, I discover, are for people like me; designed for short trips and tasks, they are more comfortable and do not make you stretch as much to reach the handlebars (a big deal, let me tell you). Infused with such newly acquired comprehension, I found my soon-to-be new best buddy at a local bike shop and plunked down my credit card.

After the exchange, it occurred to me:

1. I spent almost $400 on a bike when I used to only buy $79 "specials."

2. $400 on something I actually utilize beats the heck out of $79 on something I won't.

Formerly, I bought all manner of exercise paraphernalia that was eventually relegated to an expensive spot for hanging clothes I did not put away. Now, I know this bike will get oodles of use. Change has really occurred; slowly, over time, and without notice, like it usually does. But it's definitely here.

However, please join me in a moment of silence for my old bike. May he find a wonderful new home.

One of these days

One of these days, I'm going to get back on track with my diet. Really. I'll burst out of bed inspired, invigorated, and enthused. I'll clear the kitchen, throw out the junk food, pull out my motivational books, and start weighing, measuring, and monitoring anything that crosses my lips. No crumb of cuisine will be too trivial to escape my scrutiny. Yep, that's the way you lose weight you know. One of these days, boy am I going to get my eating act together! I'm just so busy right now.

Someday soon I've got to start exercising. I could wake up earlier, strap on some tunes, and stroll around the block. It's just so warm in bed, and I've been waiting for the rain to stop; my raincoat is so old, I'd look silly walking around town in it. I'm looking forward to a patch of blue sky so I can get back out there.

Just as soon as I can get around to it, I need to start a journal. I've been organizing my thoughts - even thinking about jotting down a few notes. I considered using a yellow-lined pad, but I really want to keep my thoughts and feelings for years. Recording something so important on any old bland notebook would be tacky, so I'm toying with buying a deluxe, leather-bound journal - maybe even an expensive pen. When I can put away a few dollars, I'm so there.

In a little while, I think I'll even go again to my meetings. It's just, well, you know how it is: holidays, travel, celebrations... who can control themselves with goodies everywhere? A slip-up here, some sloppiness there - boom - eight pounds! I almost went back last week, except it's so embarrassing to keep putting on the same pounds - so I'll knock them off first, and then head back. In a few weeks, it'll be a better time anyway.

One of these days real soon, I'll get it all together. I've been planning it a long time; I just want to make sure I do it right, no mess-ups allowed. So I'm waiting until life settles down before I get started. Let me tell you though, when the time is perfect, there's no stopping me.

I can feel it coming, one of these days, real soon, right about the corner...

About the author: Scott "Q" Marcus, THINspirational speaker and author lost 70 pounds over 14 years ago. He has a free motivational e-zine at www.THINspiration.com. His book, THE SHADE OF TREE IS THE VERY BEST SHADE THERE IS, is available at www.ShadeOfATree.com. He can be reached for presentations or comments at 707.442.6243 or scottq@THINspiration.com.

I believe

I believe there is more to each of us than we could ever know.

I believe there is one Source connecting everything, everywhere, always. It sits not on high, separate, watching passively, as we meander through the parade of choices composing our lives’ stories. Instead it is inextricably intertwined within and around, nearer than our breath, no further than our thoughts.

I believe each and every thing we experience, feel, or think is born of that source. Every powerful spark of inspiration, tinge of emotion, or idea that will ever take shape is created of that place, centered deep within — and connecting — each of us. It is that innate connection we all share that has driven us from wanderers to farmers, thatched-leaf hut villages to expansive cities.

That force within us has guided us as we have fashioned astounding, spectacular, creations that can light the darkness, locate unseen ill-nesses, or further connect us: anywhere, anytime, with the tap of a SEND button. We hurl computerized, complex objects billions of miles across a darkened sky to land with pinpoint accuracy on far-flung worlds so distant that they are invisible to the naked eye — and would have remained unknown if not for others inspired to create by that exact same source we all share. We create because the Universe is in a constant state of creation. Being of it, we do the same.

We have founded treatments for afflictions and ailments from scurvy to smallpox, measles to polio. And someday, it is as sure as we exist that morning will dawn over a world devoid of cancer, AIDs, and Alzheimer’s. We know we will find cures; we are merely in the process of bridging the distance between inspiration and implementation.

When we believe, we do spectacular, astounding things — and will do far more. It is what we do because it is who we are.

Our greatness has names, some known to many: Mother Theresa, Albert Einstein, Miguel Hidalgo, Fa-Ngoum, Martin Luther King, Jesus, Mohammed, and Buddha. Some are lesser known: you, the store clerk, the daycare worker, and me. Yet, within each is the precise unchanging power that created all who have come before and who will ever be.

Since we are part of the universe, we must be infused with the same stuff that created our rivers, mountains, oceans, and even our Mother Earth. Moreover, beyond that, the same universal force that envelops each of us, at all times, wherever we are, wraps the furthest star in the darkest night. Therefore, when we gaze far into the nighttime sky, we see some of ourselves. We cannot be separated from that which created us; it is denial of what we are, and what we can be.

I believe all this. And because I do, I am convinced that a force so pow-erful, so creative, so expansive to do all this, would never put anyone on this planet doomed to fail, whether her goal may be to change the future of millions or simply to lead a happier life for herself.

I felt we needed to be reminded. I sure do.

Taking The Pledge

The pledge is all the thing; apparently, everyone's doing it.

Searching the Internet, I discovered 7,570,000 entries for "Take the Pledge." As examples, one can abandon old-fashioned round light bulbs in favor of newer CFL curly neon bulbs by taking the "Energy Star Pledge." According to their website, 549,033 bulbs have replaced! I'm a little concerned about that count however. For instance, if a bulb burns out, do they subtract one from the count?

Another organization requests we take an "End the Stroke Pledge." I cannot envisage anyone in favor of strokes, but question the necessity of having to swear allegiance publicly to ending them. Then again, I guess it cannot be harmful. Count me in.

One over-the-counter medicine asks us to pledge to create "germ-free defense zones" while also pledging to use their hand sanitizer. Personally, I think that's two pledges. It's also a little confusing; as illustration, am I in violation if I eradicate germs but use another product? I am not skilled in pledge-construction but do believe well worded pledges are devoid of loopholes.

A dedicated cluster of Macintosh computer users requests others not boot their computers into the Windows operating platform. I use a Macintosh. I didn't even know I could boot into Windows. Maybe I took that pledge without knowing.

I even stumbled across a group dedicated to improving our planet's atmosphere by asking cows to pledge to stop passing gas. How would one know if a cow made such a commitment; beyond that, who would be responsible for monitoring the contract? That would seem a rather unpleasant assignment.

So, in the interest of better dieting, I have devised - your guess it - a pledge. Put down any tempting sweets, raise your right hand, and begin:

In the interest of better health, I (fill in your name) hereby pledge to...

• Forgo all sugars and artificial sweeteners, eating only unprocessed, fresh, non-packaged foods
• Engage the services of a personal trainer who will ensure that I wake up three hours earlier, meditate extensively about better health, stretch extensively, and then finish with a 90 minute aerobic work out every day
• Record all food consumption in a food diary - but only after weighing it on a top-of-the-line electronic scale that computes fiber, fat, protein, sodium, and sugars
• Hire a top-end, live-in chef to ensure all food is prepared in the most healthful manner present nutritional science allows
• Read every food label, cross-referencing it with a portable food index that to be carried at all times, double-checking to make sure that I consume no trans-fats, very few calories, and a great deal of fiber (not being cows, we need not worry about fiber's side effects)
• Disregard the previous ridiculous commitments and make one small lasting change in my routine to eat a little less, walk a little more, and enjoy steady progress of a realistic program

Reclaiming her life

In line at the coffee house, she stood leaning on her left leg to prop up the baby on her hip. He sucked noisily on a yellow pacifier, watching over mom's shoulder as people queued behind her, huge blue eyes with an intense open stare greeting each new patron. The canopied stroller was therefore empty of its occupant. An SUV of child carrying conveyances, it was constructed to withstand the impact of an army of toddlers. Currently however, it served as transport, loaded with an assortment of quilted belongings, stuffed toys, a cell phone, bottles of baby food, and several zip lock bags distended with a plethora of toasted oats, wafers, and carrots.

On the opposite side of her infant son was her three-year-old daughter; clinging fiercely to mommy's leg for protection, burying her young face in her mom's thigh whenever anyone made eye contact. From her small hand, dragging across the tile floor was a white, weary, worn blanket, emblazoned with a smiling penguin.

Mom was only 32. Yet with her long dark hair hastily hoisted above her head in an elastic band, a gray oversized sweatshirt with "UCLA" (and numerous drool stains) across the front, and faded, fraying black sweatpants, some days she felt as well worn as her attire.

She retained an attractive shape (albeit heavier from bearing two children), but could still "pretty up" quite nicely provided she had the time - or desire. She adored her husband; he was a kind, supportive, gentle man, who appreciated her for whom she was. Their financial situation required him to work long hours on the road, leaving her to attend to the house and the children. When he was in town, and the kids were finally in bed, and the maintenance of home chores at long last completed, romance ranked low compared to sleep. So neither of them spent as much time concerned about appearance as they had in earlier years.

Staying at home with her kids was vital, and she enjoyed it. It also provided her life with a value that working at the insurance company never could. Yet, everything bears a price. When you take care of everyone else, who takes care of you? The lack of self-attention was taking its toll and she felt it heavily.

She used to jog each morning; now she changed diapers, washed sheets, and prepared meals; always tasting while she cooked. In those all-too-fleeting, precious, rare moments of solitude, she escaped with a novel and a bag of chips. Every afternoon - just so she could get out - she scooped up the kids, walked to this place and ordered a cookie for them and a muffin for herself.

This afternoon, while the kids napped, she noticed her shape in the mirror and suddenly felt very old. In that instant came the spark of change. "Just take a step," she told herself. "Not everything, anything. It's a beginning."

When the clerk asked for her order, the whirlwind of thoughts collapsed into silence. She replied, "Juice, yogurt, non-fat milk, and a diet soda."

With that simple action, she felt alive again.