Working Hard at Relaxing

I’m not dead.

At least when I wrote that; I wasn’t. Being the intelligent reader of this column, you put two and two together and surmised that in a flash. Hopefully, as you read this, I am still in the not-dead state of being — and shall remain so for decades yet to come.

Having proven therefore that I understand very little about what it’s like to die, you will cut me slack about not really knowing — but safely assuming — that no one’s last words were ever, “I wish I would have spent more time working and less time enjoying life.”

We would agree, wouldn’t we?

So, then what’s the deal with non-stop, dawn-to-dusk, 24/7, busy-making? We don’t ever just “chill.” Well, at least I don’t; maybe you do, but I’ll bet dollars to donuts that you’re in the same place. There’s so much to get done with so few hours to do it.

Forty-hour workweek; what’s that? Wake up. Shower. Shave. Throw some frozen waffles down your gullet while checking the mail and packing lunches. Get the kids to school, pick them up, and beat feet to soccer practice and gymnastics. Straightaway back, homework, meals, brush teeth, and off to bed. To accomplish everything requires groundwork: grocery and clothes shopping, housecleaning, home maintenance, and car servicing. These necessitate steady income — and, oh yes — have you heard the news about the economy? You better not slack off at work or they’ll swap you out quicker than a DVD rental on a Saturday night. So, off to the salt mines, bringing our assignments home so we can get them on our kitchen tables in the morning and the bed stands at night. We’re work harder while having the privilege of paying more for everything. Come end of day, it’s drop like a lead brick off a six-foot wall.

It’s no wonder we don’t have time for “a life.” Or do we?

My sister phones, “What are you up to?” She asks.

I reply, “I’m working hard at relaxing.”

Stop the clock. Re-read that response please: “I’m working hard at relaxing.” Huh? That statement makes as much sense as “same difference,” or “kosher ham;” but I swear it was my reply and I’m betting you relate. Our lives are so cluttered, that if tasks were boxes, we’d be featured on the TV series “Hoarders.” No longer are we human beings, we have become “human doings.”

Last Saturday, you know what I did? I could have worked on my computer, or mowed the lawn. Goodness know, there were bills aplenty requiring my attention. Nope, didn’t do any of those. Instead, I made a conscious decision to do nothing.

It didn’t start that way. My dog, Jack, and I went for a walk. Upon returning, he scampered into the backyard, rolled about on his back, feet to the sky; and then did what animals do so well: Absolutely nothing. Zero. He simply “was.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I did that, so — not having a better plan — I joined him! I didn’t put my feet in the air, but I honest-to-God did lie down in the grass and watched cloud animals pass over my head. I felt the sun on my skin. I let my mind go where it went. For a short time, Jack and I simply appreciated that we exist.

Even machines have an off switch. Surely we deserve as much as do they. The world’s going to keep on turning, even if you’re not the one who’s pushing. Take a moment and recharge. You’ll get more done later.

About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a professional speaker and the CRP of www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com, a website for people and organizations who are frustrated with making promises and are ready to make a change. Sign up for his free newsletter at the site or friend him at facebook.com/thistimeimeanit. He is also available for coaching and speaking engagements at 707.442.6243 or scottq@scottqmarcus.com.

Why wait?

When I was a pup, a coveted “grown up treat” was staying up with my father to watch “Gunsmoke,” (the longest running weekly TV show in history; 655 episodes from 1955-1975 for trivia buffs).

The character of Festus Haggen, performed by Ken Curtis, was an unusual fellow, whose entire family may have possessed “fewer than 32 teeth among them,” as described by one reviewer. He was Illiterate, habitually incoherent, and fiercely loyal to Marshall Dillon, whom he considered one of his two best friends (the other was his mule). During one particularly grueling episode Festus exclaimed, “I wish it was Sunday so I could take a bath!”

Confused, I questioned my father, “Why can’t he take a bath today?”

“He only bathes on Sundays.”

“What if he gets dirty on Monday or Thursday?”

Replied my impatient father, “Do you want to watch the show or go to bed?” (Which was his not-so-subtle way of saying, “Be quiet.”)

As the world turns (no TV reference implied but I admit I’m pleased with utilizing the phrase), we arrive at yet another January, providing many an opportunity to put into action long delayed changes; saying, in effect, “I’m glad it’s the New Year so I can finally lose weight.”

I admire anyone beginning the punishing pathway to personal reconstruction; however, why the preoccupation with repeating a pattern every January first, only to give up like a nervous TV executive canceling a sitcom two weeks into its schedule? Yes, January makes sense; a new year is an excellent time to reaffirm direction for life’s coming chapter. Yet, it is merely another earthly revolution around its axis. Choose any of 365.

For example, Korean New Year, Hangul, is the first day of their lunar calendar, and the most important of the traditional Korean holidays, lasting three days. It usually occurs in February, providing a refreshed opportunity for resolve just as motivation and the hectic pace of the American holidays begin to wane. Why not start early February?

Or, what about Gudi Padwa, one of the most auspicious days of the Hindu year, believed to be the day that Lord Brahma created the world? In that culture, it is viewed as a time to wipe the slate clean and make a new start, arriving this year in April. Whether that allows us to delay our personal promises three months beyond January or have yet another opportunity to set them in motion is a function of one’s determination.

Should April slip past, Rosh Hashanah the beginning of Jewish New Year, is usually celebrated in September. The Chinese use a different time of year also. By setting one’s vows in the fall or spring, he or she could have a jump start on next year’s January rush. It might also be argued that since those two cultures have a combined 10,475 years on their calendars, compared to a little over 2000 for us, maybe autumn, rather than winter, is more apropos for change?

Selecting specific dates does not ensure the motivation for change will arrive per schedule. To rightly conquer one’s demons, experience the enthusiasm of new beginnings, and put to bed the regret of lost days, there is no time like this moment, right now. Should it pass, another opportunity immediately follows; no need to wait.

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.

Paradoxes

Why do we treat with disdain that which we love?

That sounds like sappy dialog from a poorly penned science-fiction movie - a supposedly wise paradox accepted as profound philosophy; while in reality, a load of cheap gibberish gussied up in cut-rate fabric and touted as Sunday finery.

"One must live in darkness to truly see light."

That is silliness, nothing more. However there are paradoxes of serious concern. As example, there is no greater joy than the excitement, enthusiasm, and absolute elation derived from the self-control of beating back one's personal demons. When I turn down an extra helping of potato salad; ride my bike when I would rather drive; or opt for healthy food over junk; an infusion of vitality and confidence electrifies my soul unlike any other sensation. Should it be possible to bottle and distribute that sentiment, Heaven itself would pale in comparison to life on Earth.

So, why do I fight that euphoria which I adore so much? Am I resistant to joy? It is there, patiently waiting for the taking, always within reach; ready to embrace me. Yet I so often turn away.

I set up my day to run behind schedule, thereby forcing myself to avoid the reduced stress and enhanced feeling of fitness that I receive when I walk on my errands. I contort and twist my mental processes to rationalize an excuse giving me permission to finish a bag of tortilla chips, knowing that revulsion that will overcome me later.

It is a paradox of sad proportion. I have within me the ability to feel fantastic, emboldened, and fulfilled; or I can opt for the lowly pathway of immediate gratification and the grief that follows. That which I find irresistible, I avoid. That which I detest, I embrace.

In most of my life, I "do what it takes." I (usually) make choices necessary for closeness with my family, which might not always be the easiest option. To enhance my career, I force myself to face the scary places, make the cold calls, take the risks. Yet, in this one part of my life - one that means so very much - I take the short cuts.

In college, I learned a proverb; "When all is perfect, the Gods become jealous of you and therefore take something away." Have I set up my life to leave one component a kilter to keep those Gods at bay? Moreover, the irony is that when we do exercise the will and control within - even for mere moments - we are more in touch with all that is holy and glorious than at any other time; a thought worth remembering the next time Choice comes calling.

In three weeks

They say, "Eat less and exercise more; the weight will practically fall off." They also say, "getting started is the hardest part." Of course, garrulous as They are, They make sure to point out you shouldn't have waited so long before taking care of yourself. Whoever "They" are, They sure have a lot to say about how to run your life, don't They?

They also tell you that if you keep a new habit in place for only three weeks, it will be adapted into your life. I'm not sure I agree. I've been dieting since before they invited sugar-free cola and non-fat yogurt - considerably more than three weeks - and I still find healthy eating a challenge, especially when stressed with organizing my taxes, calling the plumber to fix a plugged toilet, and trying to find a few seconds for my family. In those moments, a double-bacon, cheesy, chiliburger and gargantuan order of fries still shout pretty loud.

Yet, if you have ever tried to adjust habits, you have faced the dreaded (insert ominous music here...) "Three Week Barrier."

In Week One, all is new and exciting. You are inspired (or at least willing) to do what it takes; after all, you've stopped putting it off, might as well get on with the task at hand. Once the decision has finally been made, activity begins; changes occur; motivation results. By Week Two - if you look for it - you see a few fledgling results. Even though the path ahead appears long, these early outcomes keep you plodding onward.

At Week Three, most people start facing as many setbacks as successes. As Life is wont to do, it throws some curves, and dealing with these stresses generates the urge for comfort, in effect the desire to revert to old habits. Confronted with instantaneous chocolate gratification or what appears a tortuous, arduous, uphill life-long slog, most opt to "try again later, when things finally settle down." (Not wishing to be morbid, but I must point out the only time things "finally settle down," your weight won't matter to anyone but the six friends carrying you to your final resting place.)

If it is accurate that every person faces frustrations, why do some persevere while others fall victim to the lure of the old ways?

I'm glad you asked. While some focus on external results, craving to "get there quickly" so we can "stop thinking about this all the time," others direct their attention to their feelings when confronted with these inevitable setbacks. They remind themselves of the successes so far, meager as they might seem. Although frustrated, they slow down long enough to learn from the feedback, and work on adjusting their attitude - even if only for an instant. Without ongoing fine-tuning, we are condemned to repeat old patterns.

That's what They say. And - in this instance - They are correct.

The Rules

We are raised to follow rules.

The process begins as children with "small rules," whereby penalty for infraction is a "time out," a mind-numbingly dull exile to bedroom isolation, where all I could do was stare at a faded yellow wall as the clock ticked away hours. Over time, I came to understand the cost of such banishment was not worth breaking house regulations. Therefore, I came home by curfew, attended school when I'd rather be at the beach, and dutifully dragged the bent, steel garbage can to the curb each Tuesday night. Following rules gave me freedom.

"Big rules" are called "laws," where violations result in extreme unpleasantness enforced by well-trained strong men with crisply ironed blue uniforms and black steel weapons at their sides. Those who break these rules sacrifice self-determination through long-term adult "time outs" behind metal bars.

Being somewhat compliant, I operate within the confines of rules. I pay taxes by April 15, do not drive 80 miles an hour, and attempt to treat others the way I want to be treated. Because of adherence to these edicts, my life usually flows more smoothly.

So, here's the thing: Despite the fact that I obey the law; honor codes of ethics, and follow behavioral etiquette, I remain perplexed by my periodic futile attempts to ignore the most powerful, omnipotent, and all-pervasive "Prime Rule of the Universe" which is, "the Universe will not change its rules to accommodate my whims, fantasies, and desires." Simply put, "If I always do what I've always done, I'll always be where I've always been." Ignorance is no excuse; there is no court of appeals, clemency does not exist.

Yet I proclaim, "This time will be different; I'll lose the weight. This time, I'll be perfect." Although - aside from more enthusiastic lip service - I don't actually DO anything differently from all the OTHER times I espoused that same pronouncement. Soon, frustrated and angry again, I grumble about my results (or lack thereof), as they are exactly what they were each previous time I did the same thing. "Why?" I ask. "This isn't fair!"

Undeterred by reality, I persist, repeatedly hurling myself into the same patterns, expecting new results. Finally, exhausted and defeated, I realize that instead of walking into walls, I can open a door. I obey the rules and try a new approach; I change.

"IT" will never be different. "I" must be different. Those are the rules. And once I accept that, I set myself free.

Priorities

If Life is a journey, priorities form the road map.

Priorities are not all alike. For example, there are the trivial; "Honey, let's have potatoes instead of pasta." There are intermediate: "Do we refinance the house to pay for the kids' college?" And then there are enormous, powerful, life-changing ones to light our way and guide us to our final destination.

In philosophical discussions at dinner parties, the question arises, "In order, what are your three most important priorities?"

My well rehearsed reply rolls off my tongue, "Health, Family, Career." I know this because I am enlightened (and have engaged the service of fine therapists). Such topics matter to enlightened people.

I also accept that one might disagree (even I do at times); that misses the point. Rather, the issue here is "The Three" are so critical, I don't even have to think about it. Yet, therein lies a dichotomy: if they are so very important, why not reflect upon them more than I do?

I vocalize, "Health," then eat excessively, evade the doctor, and seek extensive rationale to avoid exercise. If health is my highest priority, I manifest it in an unusual fashion.

Second Priority: "Family." However, when my wife says, "let's play," resistance wells up; I just have so darn much work to do. She - being the loving, supportive partner - gives me permission to enhance Priority Three: Career, and write my overdue speech. I opt instead to use those two hours adjusting the desktop photograph on my computer. After all, who can be productive when the scenery on screen is unattractive?

As a result of my inappropriate time management, Guilt makes its appearance - always a catalyst to eat blindly, medicate away my feelings, and insult my health. Voila, a cycle is complete!

If analyzed by what I do, rather than what I have memorized to impress people, would not my priorities be: "Eating, Procrastination, Guilt"? After all, that is what fills my days.

It's so easy to proclaim out loud what's essential (especially when directing others), yet it's not so effortless to actually follow through.

If health is truly my Priority One, I must act upon it.

I was going to conclude with sage advice on how you could adjust your priorities. But you'll excuse me if I instead put down this donut and take a walk.

Stamina over speed

Last in a special series on the mental and emotional adjustments required for long-term change.

Anyone could tell she was annoyed with the result. Although she lost weight from the previous week, her irritation was palpable.

"One quarter of a pound? Four lousy ounces!" She continued to stare at the scale. "I exercised. I wrote everything down; I even stayed away from the hors d'oeuvres at the office party. This is too slow. I won't hit my right weight until I'm 60!"

Standing down from the platform, I heard her grumble as she snatched her purse, "Who needs this frustration?" With those final words, she stormed from the meeting. The next time she came to a meeting, she weighed 43 pounds more than when she had left - and was three years closer to the "dreaded" age of sixty.

At times it is difficult to remember that "slower is faster than never."

Few events are more exasperating than diligently following a plan, faithfully monitoring your efforts, expecting breathtaking rewards, and ending up feeling punished for the effort. Hope vanishes, motivation evaporates, and the seductive siren song of harmful habits slyly lures us off track. After all, rarely does one give up when all is doing well.

Success requires enduring many such indignities; it involves making a lifestyle - not temporary - change. Logically, we know that "lifestyle change" must last... well, er, um ... a lifetime (hence the term). Emotionally however, we want to experience all the payback without making the required investment. As a further analogy, we crave the benefits of wisdom without enduring the exposure to life.

It does not work that way. The process will not be rushed; it must be fully experienced.

Success is more likely when we understand the benefits begin immediately; we do not have to wait to enjoy them until we get "there." To the contrary, that magical land where temptation is non-existent and motivation is ever present is fantasy; there is no better prescription for failure than betting the farm on such unrealistic expectations.

Those who obtain their goals are still faced with the same temptations and frustrations as those of us still striving for our objectives. What differs is they persevere through rough periods by changing focus, not by ignoring the delay.

Setbacks cannot be avoided. Although it might not feel so in the moment, each one presents an opportunity to understand the process, ourselves, and make the adjustments necessary for long-term, SUSTAINED change.

At those crossroads, look back, not ahead. The future is always unknown, yet the road already traveled - no matter how short the journey - is lined with accomplishments: some small, others more significant.

Motivation returns when the focus changes.

NOTE: Next, we're back to the usual variety of rants, musings, and insights (such as they are) of weight loss, habit change, and other acts of faith.

Believe it

Next in a series on the mental and emotional adjustments required for long-term change

The famous early-twentieth century escape artist, Harry Houdini, traveled the countryside, locking himself in jails, only to escape, as a method of furthering his reputation (and increasing his audiences). As the story goes, there was only one chamber from which he could not free himself.

Houdini entered the fateful cell and began his usual routine once the iron bars clanged shut. From his belt, he removed a concealed piece of metal utilized to pick locks, and set about as he had done countless times before. Whereby every previous security device had soon swung open, he could not achieve the desired results on this occasion.

Finally, after laboring for hours, bathed in sweat and exhausted, Houdini collapsed in frustration against the cell door, defeated. As he fell against it, it swung wide - it was unlocked the entire time.

Because Houdini believed he was trapped, he was. So too are we ensnared by our beliefs.
If I do not believe I can lose "those extra pounds," all the forces of Heaven and Earth cannot force success upon me. It matters not the number of "experts" and self-help gurus who ply me with easy-to-follow step-by-step instructions, exercise plans, or medical research.

As example, if after losing 12 pounds, I have a temporary setback of two pounds, I will see that as validation of what I already "knew": that I cannot lose weight.

"It was only a matter of time," I'll say to myself. "I knew it couldn't last."

Beliefs influence feelings; therefore defeated and despondent, I think, "Why am I wasting my time?" From thoughts come actions; in this case that would be getting off the scale, tossing my diet materials in the trash, and deciding to give up for now. I revert to old habits. My losses evaporate, my bulks returns.

The final consequence is my beliefs are again validated and the cycle resumes.

The reality about weight loss is that it is not a linear downward progression, even for the ultra dedicated and diligent. Rather, it is a learned skill, trial and error. Successful weight loss is actually losing more weight than one gains; down four pounds, up one, down three, up two. (Picture a stock market chart from a downward Bear market and you get an accurate concept.)

If my belief is that periodic gains are part of the process, I will still feel frustrated and saddened by the setback, but shall continue the course, possibly making some corrections. Two pounds are two pounds; resulting actions differ only because underlying beliefs do.

What we say to ourselves become our beliefs; if they work, they are of value to us. If not, it is vital we change them.

Believe me.

Shrinking it down

Next in a series on the mental and emotional adjustments required for long-term change

I believe in the basic goodness of people.

Because of that, my feelings towards most are benevolent; I cut people some slack, assist the downtrodden when possible, and experience a general contentedness with life. The result is, on the whole, people treat me well and I feel fortunate. (Although I periodically forget, so you might need to remind me.)

Because I believe, I act. Actions cause results, which feed into - or work against - my beliefs. In that process is another of the great circles of life.

Beliefs are the bedrock of who we are - and who we become. To a large extent, they determine whether we live well, the quality of our relationships, and even our connection with God and the Universe. Powerful forces, they are not to be reckoned with lightly.

Beliefs: closely held values accepted as facts and validated by observation, are the essential component in lifestyle change. It is hard to look in the mirror while weighing 250 pounds and have faith that "this time" I will be successful, when in fact, all previous attempts merely ended as failure, leaving me weighing more now than I ever have previously. If I do not believe, it matters not how many experts tell me to eat less and be more active. In my mind, I know I will not succeed and will therefore see failure, not setbacks; defeat, not delay. I will quit.

I was not born believing that I would always be fat; that took time to develop. As a child, my parents, concerned about my size, stressed its dangers. Doctors put me on thousand-calorie diets with purple-ink mimeographs and lists of low calorie foods. My clothes came from the "husky" section. Boys teased me; girls avoided me. Each time I was impeded in my diet, internal voices screeched, "See, you can't change; it's impossible!" I stopped, further validating my beliefs.

Beliefs can and do change. What's counterintuitive is that process happens not by thinking big, but small. One's life is not constructed in years, rather via minutes and seconds. Small, almost unperceivable ticks of the clock come together to make me who I am, leaving behind who I was. It is almost imperceptibly slow, but is happening - even now.

When I no longer looked at 70 pounds - or even ten - as the validation of success, changes began. Instead of the "whole thing," I targeted five pounds, or three, sometimes even one. At times, success was getting through the next five minutes.

Each slight triumph - if focused upon - became an in-your-face defiance of the old guard, knocking down its structure, brick-by-brick, girder by ledger.

To adjust beliefs, concentrate on minor victories. They will get larger when given their due.

Whadya Want?

Part of a series on the mental and emotional adjustments required for long-term change

"People don't buy what they need, they buy what they want," so goes the age-old idiom used by sales trainers.

Some explanation is in order:

1. "Buy" is not merely an exchange of currency for a product; "buy" can also be "make a decision" as in "buy into an idea." From such "mental purchases," actions result.
2. We are not irrational; although "buying" begins emotionally, we back it with logic before finalizing the deal.

In other words, I might really, really, really want a bright red sporty convertible (can you say "mid life crisis?") but I then analyze my finances, examine my needs, and decide not to buy. However, if I don't "want" it first, I will not even weigh the options, so no purchase is possible.

Again: We buy what we want more than what we need; we back it with logic.

More germane to resolutions and habit change, I NEEDED to lose weight for years, yet it wasn't until my 39th birthday when I found myself eating leftover frosting from the pink cake box I had placed in the garbage, that I decided to actually do something.

Moreover, it was not that I even wanted to lose weight; in that moment all I wanted was to stop despising myself. I wanted control. I wanted to feel better. At that instant, I would do virtually anything to make the pain stop. Born from that strong emotional state, I only then analyzed my options and alternatives - and moved forward.

Change is generated by fear, force, or pain - not happiness. If life were idyllic with butterflies, flowers, and sunshine greeting each morning, why would anyone want to change? However, from the fire of ache, desires arise; the paradox being that once that hurt starts to recede (or the reality of the effort sets in) I no longer WANT to do the work as it appears laborious, tedious, and non-productive. I revert to familiar easier habits, figuring "there's always tomorrow." Therein lies the seed of every broken resolution.

To break that cycle, one must focus on what is GAINED from the effort, not what is sacrificed. Weight loss is NOT about abandoning favorite foods; it's about feeling in control. It is NOT about grunting and panting through an exercise program, it's about enjoying freedom of movement. Each is true, one we WANT - and move toward it; the other we don't - we steer away.

To make change permanent, it is imperative that we focus on its benefits. It's still a long road but a more productive, positive, and exciting path.

Thoughtful beginnings

If you were awake at 12:01AM January 2nd, you heard it. That giant CLUNK was the sound of the national psyche slamming over from "How much can I eat?" to "How quickly can I lose weight?" It happens every year at this time. Equally without fail is the inundation of advertisements, TV programs - and yes, columnists - who provide astute coaching on how to lose "those extra pounds" and get in shape. Warmed-over, threadbare, time-and-again guidance is ladled out in generous proportion each January, as reliably as winter rains. Chefs explain lower-fat meal preparation. Size zero models adorned in $500 leotards and $2000 running shoes champion their personal workout plans. Equally ubiquitous, snake oil infomercials attempt to pry consumer from wallet with assurances of medication and machines that "melt weight off without effort."

Been there, heard that. Over and over and over and over again...

I still weighed 250 pounds.

We know how to lose weight (eat less, be more active); it need not be belabored ad nausea. What blocks our progress is we just plain don't want to do it!

Yes, we desire good health. Yes, we like it when we look attractive. No, we are not fond of the stuffed-to-the-gills-can't-budge gastric distress following a binge of belly-busting burgers dripping with cheese and wrapped in pigful of bacon. The hitch in the get-along is that dieting takes forever; requires excessive, unending, Herculean, effort; and feels like it never succeeds. Why embark upon a laborious, frustrating voyage with defeat at its termination?

As said in college, "Flunk now, avoid the June rush."

When I started these weekly missives a few years back, I promised myself, the editors - and most important: YOU - that I would not dwell on "carbs, calories, and calisthenics;" that's everywhere already and we're not listening. Yes, nutrition and activity are essential to success, but what is lacking in the public dialogue is a conversation about the feelings, beliefs, and thoughts required for change.

We are not "food zombies," in control one moment, consuming uncountable calories the next, without some intervening thought process. In that illogical flash, I consider alternatives, rise from the couch, head to the kitchen, figure out what foods will comfort me - and only THEN do I drain the cabinets. I KNOW it's not healthy but this is not about smart, this is about feelings.

For the next few weeks, I'm doing a series: What goes into the heart and brain before whatever goes down the mouth and stomach. I.e. why do we do what we do when we know we won't like ourselves later? Whether you're trying to lose weight, stop smoking, or just change your attitude, I hope you enjoy.

Besides, at least for the time it takes to read 500 words, you won't be eating. And that's as good a start as any.