Posts Tagged ‘latte’
One early morning while sucking down my coffee like it was oxygen, I looked out of my kitchen window, down into the courtyard of the apartment building across the way. I noticed a man placing a box with a small plant into the sunlight. At first, I assumed he was doing some gardening. But then noticed he left the box in the sunlight and had walked away. Upon further examination (AKA “not minding my own business and staring out the window”), I saw that the small plant was actually a beautifully maintained Bonsai Tree.
A few days later, I saw the same man once again placing the box with the Bonsai into the sunlight, then leaving it there for a couple hours. I now deducted that after allowing it to soak up some Vitamin D, this man then takes his carefully cared for plant back into his home. (Who says I couldn’t run a detective agency?)
Seeing this man take care of his Bonsai Tree (which is clearly thriving) from time to time warms my heart—and it’s a sight I look forward to seeing when I’m lucky enough to notice this ritual in motion. Whether witnessing the man placing the tree into the sunlight or even just seeing the tree already in its spot fills my heart with joy. This man’s beautiful ritual reminds me of the level of care I need to make sure I’m giving to myself. And this is also the same level of care you might want to be giving to yourself, as well.
When we care for something, it thrives. This can be seen in my neighbor’s Bonsai Tree or even in the happiness level of my dog, Latte. It’s therefore important that we give the same kind of love and care to ourselves—as well as our health-minded goals. This might initially seem like common sense. But often, when we discuss our goals with others, we frame things in the negative: “I haven’t been able to do this” or “I am such a loser when it comes to that.”
When people I know tell me they need to lose weight, I can often detect a degree of self-loathing in their tone. I can relate—knowing how much I hated myself when I weighed over 450 pounds.
This disdain for ourselves is an approach we’ve been taught is beneficial and will likely facilitate change. The thinking being, “You hate how you look, so do something about it.” But after learning to love myself at any size (both before and after I took off 250 pounds of excess weight), I am grateful to pass along what I’ve learned. If we actually love and care for ourselves — even as we are now in this very moment (no matter how many pounds overweight or how far from any goal)—we become more likely to encounter faster success.
If you know a good friend or family member that’s facing a challenge, you want to help them. But if it’s someone you have distaste for, you don’t really care if they succeed in their quest or not. Well, time for you to think of yourself in a more affectionate way and afford yourself the very same degree of care that my neighbor gives his Bonsai Tree or that I give my dog.
Do something kind for yourself today—throughout this day and everyday. And remind yourself why you’re a supermodel (which, for the record, you are). Suddenly, if you’re wanting to lose weight or reach any goal you’ve set out for yourself (health-related or otherwise), you’re doing it because you care, not because you’re disgusted. That’s going to make the journey a lot more pleasant and, I imagine, a lot more successful.
Just like my neighbor’s Bonsai Tree, it’s time for you to position yourself in the warm sunlight of tender loving care—and thrive.
Photo Source: Non Profit Self-Care
I got a well-deserved slap from the universe the other day. Well, it wasn’t as much of a slap as it was a gentle nudge. I’m grateful for the reminder to step outside of own head… And happy to share it with you — just in case you can use one yourself (a nudge, not a slap).
It all began one morning while driving to my favorite coffee place in town. While I usually make coffee at home, every couple of days I treat myself to a stronger brew that I didn’t make myself. To get to this spot during the morning hours, one has to deal with rush hour traffic — something I don’t normally have to contend with since I work from home. Adding to the journey is an awkward (yet legal) left hand turn into this local coffee place’s parking lot.
On a recent outing, as I waited in my car to make my turn, I noticed an older man and woman walking across the driveway entrance. Thus, I waited to turn, even though there was no oncoming traffic.
“Look at me,” I thought to myself, “Being nice to the walkers.” (Sure, the law dictates that pedestrians have the right of way, but I was still mentally applauding myself.)
Only it turns out that the man was taking his sweet time walking across the driveway entrance. And we’re talking about a short distance here. Minute turned into minutes turned into… Well, more minutes.
Don’t worry. I didn’t honk or do anything crass like that. But I did have a little passive aggressive hissy fit in the confines of my brain, wondering why the man was lollygagging and/or why he just didn’t check to see if a car needed to enter the parking lot and wait if he was going to be so slow about walking across (and therefore blocking) the entrance.
After what seemed like an eternity (one song had ended and another had started on my car stereo — a true mark of time passage if ever there was one), the man finally made it across, which allowed me to make the turn (after some oncoming traffic went by). No big deal, right? Except that once in line at said coffee place, I happened to start talking to the woman who was with the man.
This wasn’t my choice. I saw them both in line in front of me, recognizing them from what would forever be known as “The Great Slow Walking Incident of 2014” and thus I judged them harshly in my brain. After all, they’d robbed me of 2 to 3 minutes of turn time.
(Yes, I know I’m being ridiculous here… But please, stick with me!)
After the man left the line to get a table, the woman turned around and offered me a smile. What could I do but smile back? And after that, a conversation ensued (how dare she!). During the course of what turned out to be a surprisingly nice discussion, the fact that my dog, Latte, is a trained therapy dog came up. At which point the woman started raving about therapy dogs and how much they had helped her husband who had just gone through a series of surgeries and lengthy hospital stays.
Universe. Slapping. Me. (In a gentle, nudge-like fashion.)
Yeah, Gregg… This man had taken a longer than usual time period to walk across the parking lot entrance. And what a celebration that may be have been for him (and his wife). After several surgeries and multiple hospital stays, he was up and walking — and even enjoying a sunshine-y day while out for coffee with his spouse.
And yet, when in my car, observing all this, I made it all about me.
I’m tempted to shame myself here. But we all know (or at least are hopefully learning) that shame doesn’t do much to encourage change. So instead, I’m admitting my ridiculous response to what I thought was dilly-dallying man and celebrating the fact that I was not only able to learn why he was “walking slow” (by my silly standards), but also that his situation offered cause for happiness… Not just in regard to his health and his wife’s appreciation for it, but also for my own mental health and inner joy.
It’s often when caught up in life’s to-do list (or quest for a stronger cup of coffee) that we can also get caught up in our own mental interpretation of what’s going on in the world around us — and then make it all about us, when in fact, it has nothing to do with us. And if we would instead take a moment to breathe and observe, we just might learn something and/or find a reason to count our (and others’) life blessing(s).
I probably don’t have to tell you that my coffee tasted even more delicious that day. And that now when I see someone doing something that I don’t understand, I do my best to stop myself from decoding what they’re agenda is and lamenting about how it’s affecting me. Instead, I think of this older gentleman and his wife and send out a nonverbal thanks to them. Not only for the valuable reminder, but also for not being as caught up in their own mental drama (as I had been) so that they were able to unknowingly share a valuable life lesson/reminder with me, the guy who really needed to slow down that day.
Photo Source: Exchange3D.com
The other morning, while working out at the gym, I had a work-related stress playing on an endless loop in my head. Even though the incident had happened a week earlier, I was still obsessing over the whole ordeal (wishing I’d said things I didn’t say at the time, wishing the other party would come to their senses, wishing the whole thing would go away, etc.). Needless to say, my worrying about this incident only made things worse in my mind and even though I’d had a productive workout, left me in a gloomy state of mind as I left the gym.
It was while driving home from working out that I remembered one of the key commands I picked up during dog training that I use pretty frequently with my puppy, Latte.
As anyone who has a dog probably knows, our canine friends occasionally come across a smell, a chicken bone or some other foul object that excites their senses to no end. It’s at this moment that we must command them to “Leave it!” in a terse, authoritative way so that they don’t get into trouble, hurt themselves or (heaven forbid!) end up rolling in something disgusting.
Even though I had been expertly trained to use this command with Latte, I realized after my workout of mental duress that perhaps I needed to use this command on myself. After all, as mentioned, this particular stressful situation had happened a week earlier. So at this point, no one else (not even the offending party) was responsible for my stress and worry other than yours truly. On a virtual level, I was “rolling” in something disgusting. In this case, my own self-defeating thoughts.
So in this case, I was the one who needed to “Leave it!”
When Latte is told to “Leave it,” he usually jumps (having been “caught” doing something that he should know better than to do) and then quickly moves away from the offensive object and is soon distracted by another smell, a passing pooch or some other form of whimsy. Similarly, by telling ourselves to “leave” something that’s weighing us down (figuratively or otherwise), we then, too, have the opportunity to move on to other things — more pleasant things, and with a cleared mind, perhaps even a potential solution to whatever we think we can’t solve while in the throes of “Why me?” We can’t undo what’s transpired. But we can move on if we choose to.
I imagine that, like myself, many of you reading this are sometimes plagued by situations, incidences or predicaments that sometimes can’t be washed away from our brains — as if obsessing over them might offer a solution (which, really, the obsessing never does). Instead, we need to just let it go, move on and welcome another scent (or situation) that can offer us not only new ideas, but also peace.
All together now: “Leave it!”
I’ll conclude by adding that if you ever see me working out with a scowl, feel free to walk over and tersely tell me to, “Leave it!” Like my puppy, Latte, I might jump (having also been “caught”). But I’ll appreciate the reminder that some things need to be left where they belong… In the past.
The other day I was driving my dog, Latte, home from the dog park and suddenly realized I was singing along with Ke$ha’s “Only Want to Dance With You.” As I approached a stoplight, I quickly stopped mouthing words and resumed my “Just a normal guy driving” pose — out of fear that nearby drivers would not only see my grooves, but might make fun of them. Then it struck me… When the heck did I stop feeling comfortable dancing and singing along to favorite music while in my car?
I remember back when I was just out of college, driving around my “little” Nissan and weighing over 450 pounds. Even though terribly aware of my weight and terrified that other people were judging me because of it, when I was in my car, I felt comfortable enough to crank up the tunes and move and dance as if I were in a music video. True story!
I even remember one time when I pulled up to a stoplight and was dancing and singing along with an old school Jody Watley song. There was a car full of young women at the light in front of me and I could see them turning around to see me flaunting my moves and grooves. Even though they were laughing, I didn’t feel like they were doing so in a mean way. So I just kept dancing and entertaining the crowd — until the light turned green and they drove on.
But I now realize that sometime between back in the day and the present, I became too self-aware and that I am currently seemingly afraid to dance or sing in my car (overtly anyway) — this even after taking off over 250 pounds of excess weight. Seems to me I should be much less self conscious now. And yet I’m more chicken than ever to let my freak flag fly when driving.
Don’t get me wrong. If it’s nighttime or if there aren’t a lot of cars around, I’m probably putting on a show when solo (or with Latte) in my car. But it makes me sad that my “ham gene” has somehow gone dark — or, at the very least, lessened over the years. And you know what? I’m going to work on getting braver, caring a little less and once again begin to sing and dance to the music as if no one is watching.
After all, life is for living, right? And being silly?
No matter what your size. No matter what your situation. Finding joy in the smallest moments can fuel our happiness factor, which then helps us in other areas of our lives — especially the challenging ones like successfully dieting or making another positive change.
So join me in making a fool of yourself, won’t you? I promise that if I see you performing a music video in your car, I’ll either dance along or burst into a round of applause. Because in my book, anyone feeling free enough to dance and sing in their car is living life to its fullest. And that’s a beautiful thing that I aspire to get back to. No matter which song is playing.
Here’s hoping that if you’re under the tree in your candy cane pajamas (like my puppy Latte is here) that the jolly old elf in the red suit brings you everything you’re wishing for this Christmas! (Thank you so much for being part of Just Stop Eating So Much!)