Sometimes It’s Blueberries

Habit change is a lot more complicated than knowing better and then doing better. Because our behaviors are not fundamentally driven by what we know.

“I know what I should do, I just don’t do it.” What is the subtext when patients reply thusly, after I ask about their health habits? It feels defensive and a little ashamed, maybe? They don’t want to talk about it. Not surprising. Our culture pressures us to be perfect: eat organic and plant-based, do CrossFit five days a week, sleep 8 hours, keep up with current events and render strong, articulate opinions, post photos from joyous family gatherings, etc., etc. You name it, and there will be someone telling you you “should” be doing it, and not so subtly implying that you are somehow inadequate if you don’t. As if it’s all so easy.

I think this insight gives us all an opportunity to reflect on what’s actually easy. Sleep happens to be easy for me–I rarely suffer from insomnia (I just don’t spend enough hours in bed, night owl that I am). Some people are natural exercisers, others naturally prefer healthy foods. Some never feel stymied by negative emotions. Some are naturally thin and athletic; others of us are more thick and round. It does not help when we also love all kinds of food, and eat for reasons other hunger (stress, boredom, environmental cues, etc., etc., omg). I have spent the better part of my life judging and criticizing myself for my weight, even though other than pregnancy, it’s been normal–just not thin. Recently I finally understood just how obsessed I have been with policing my own eating. *sigh* What a sad waste of energy and joy.

Healthy eating has never been naturally easy for me. I am a food hedonist. Everything tastes good, I have an incredibly elastic stomach and zero sensitivities or restrictions, and I commune with loved ones around food often. I’m working on sensing hunger and satiety better, balancing starch with fiber, and choosing healthier proteins. I eat less dessert now (maybe?), and I don’t keep ice cream in the house anymore. And still, I struggle and obsess daily.

But a couple months ago healthy eating suddenly became much easier, to my utter shock an awe. Sitting at Ethos after a challenging and empowering total body strength class, I watched Tim popping blueberries like M&Ms out of a pint container. As if it had never crossed my mind before, I realized that I could do that, too. It sounds so silly, right? But I have always had a mindset that berries are too expensive to eat so frivolously. I’d buy them to add to salads or for baking–spread a pint out over many servings and people. To eat a whole pint by myself felt greedy and selfish. But in that moment, my insidious and limiting assumption simply evaporated. It felt random and cosmic at the same time. And since then, I kid you not, an unconscious and involuntary (though wholly welcome and celebrated) transformation has taken place. I feel completely sated with less food. I just don’t crave snacks at night anymore. I feel averse to heavy sauces, large portions, sugary drinks, even ice cream. I revel in a light salad and lean protein, and I don’t feel deprived whatsoever. [Ahem, I still love bread (sheepish grin).] It’s totally irrational, visceral, and not at all because of anything I tried intentionally–at least not directly. How fascinating!

“You cannot reason someone out of a notion they did not reason themselves into.”

So, bottom line: Sometimes behavior change just comes when it comes. We can still nudge and trudge, and stay open to all that may help–lay the groundwork. I think everything I have learned, tried, and failed until now was valuable, just not necessarily effective, given whatever context when I tried it. And the longer I live, the more I believe lasting, sustainable behavior change cannot be forced. Not by guilt, shame, or sometimes even reason. Maybe by peer pressure, but only the kind founded on true belonging and a strong, uplifting sense of community. Or maybe not until it really matters at a core value level, and/or it’s extrinsically easy? Or until our inner nature simply knows it’s the path to take now? Our bodies are built for survival, not modern Western aesthetics. Our cultures and social norms don’t always align with that. We are so judgmental, and there is growing evidence that the psychological harm from that actually keeps us from making the changes we so desperately desire.

Am I totally happy with my weight and my body today? Not really. And, I practice every day to appreciate it more. I’m getting stronger since joining the gym. I’m eating in ways I will regret less in the future. I’m working on getting to bed earlier (not tonight, apparently). And I continue to learn and apply everything I can about relationship, leadership, and all things that make me a better person.

So, ONWARD, my friends. We’re all doing our best here. Let’s all give ourselves and one another a little more grace and understanding, ya? And who knows when we may each have our blueberry moments–may yours catch you joyfully!

One Perfect Day

“What would constitute a ‘perfect’ day for you?”

Some of you may recognize this as one of “36 Questions That Lead to Love,” a popular and oft-cited article by Daniel Jones in the New York Times in 2015, based on Arthur Aron’s study published in 1997. I could never generate a plausible answer, thinking superficially. And every time I read the article, I think of Nigel Marsh’s description of his ideal day–see 4:50 of his 2011 TED Talk. Basically he spends quality time with family, works about 6 hours, hangs out with friends, exercises, and has sex four times.

Coming across the question again in You’re Not Listening by Kate Murphy yesterday, I realized how close to perfect my day off was this week. Here’s how it went, with brackets inserted that would have made it truly ideal:

Wake up after 7 hours of sleep, in a fantastic mood, giddily looking forward to the day.
Move through morning routine easily, no rush or urgency.
Talk to Mei on the way to school, discussing her musings on anything that comes to mind.
Eat a light and tasty breakfast, sweet and salty, carb and protein, and coffee–oh yes, pour over coffee, nice and slow.
Consume a book and/or articles: on audio, digital, and/or print, romance and/or other, in the kitchen and car.

Ethos class! Challenged, educated, strengthened, and energized through coaching and community. I am now quoted on their social media:

Lunch with Dear Friend #1, communing over gorgeous salad, an Arnold Palmer, and shared ideals of leadership, friendship, and inner work.
[Find squishy armchair in a bookstore coffee shop, where I journal my reflections from lunch, reveling in the time and space to meet my friend and feed my soul.]

Browse bookstore, purchase artistic yet understated journal for Dear Friend #2, because everybody deserves pretty paper to write on.
Run into Dear Friend #3 on the way to meet DF2, reconnecting after many months and checking in–yay!
Walk and talk with DF2 [on wooded trails of Summit County–or] near Lake Michigan, stopping to photograph beauty that catches our eyes.
We discuss culture and relational leadership, exchange perspectives, and brainstorm ways to help systems and their people flourish.

[Find a shady bench, near spring blooms and urban wildlife, to sit and journal again, recording ideas, plans, aspirations, BHAGs.]

Pick up Mei from school, she’s energized more than stressed.
Pull fresh ingredients from fridge, audiobook or Agape music in the ears while chopping and stir frying.
Have a light and easy dinner, somebody else cleans up.
Mill around enjoying the house and its memories [it’s clean and neat, all plants watered and thriving].
Complete a relaxed night time routine, including pleasant smelling skin treatments.
More writing [and reading] in bed, all leftover words effused [and/or absorbed] for the day.
Lights out, burrowed in the covers, some intimate connection, sated in all 5 reciprocal domains of health.
Still high the next day and beyond, absolutely buoyed.

So what makes this day so perfect? What makes me so unreasonably and residually happy from it?
The ingredients:
Time
Autonomy
Good sleep
Movement
Communion with people I care about and who care about me
Good food
Alternating rhythm between activity and rest; among input, processing, and output
Nature, especially sunlight
Social, emotional, and intellectual connection, both intra- and inter-.

Would I want to live this day every day? I think not, even if it were possible… Although I could easily imagine repeating it a few times over a languid vacation.

When I cannot/will not get a whole day like this at a time, how can I incorporate something perfect into each day? This question excites me with potential. It wouldn’t take much of any/each of the ingredients above, in any combination, to make any day a little more ideal. Some advance planning, mindfulness, and real time gratitude could go a long, long way. By this time next year, regardless of what’s happening around me that I cannot control, my life in general—all days—could be a lot closer to perfect, even more excellent, than they already are.

Proud of You

“I bet your mom’s proud of you.”

I sat in the car at the last intersection before entering the parking garage, on a typically cloudy spring morning in Chicago, just another ordinary day of work. A young man crossed the street in front of me: average height and build, light brown hair, clean shaven; neutral expression, walking with intent, apparently familiar with his route, a well-worn work bag slung across his chest–student? Office worker? I can’t say why I noticed him, as he was not the only pedestrian in the area. But as I watched him continue on his way, apparently oblivious to me, I started to wonder: Does your mom know where you are right now? Is she thinking of you? Is she confident that you are safe? I bet she’s proud of you–no matter what you’re doing, whom you’re with, what you will do today–I bet she smiles when she thinks of you.

This was years ago; Son and Daughter were still little kids. My thoughts surprised me, overcame me with something akin to nostalgia over the future? Out of nowhere, my imagination had cast me to sometime close to today, when my own son lives out of state. I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing at any given moment, and I do always smile when I think of him. I am proud of him, irrationally (though justifiably) so, just because I’m his mom.

On this day each year we drown in myriad writings, images, and expressions about Motherhood and Mothers’ Love, etc etc, ad nauseum. So let me make my contribution! It’s a complicated ‘holiday’. May you feel respected and validated, however you experience it. Personally I find it ambivalent and a little awkward, like an earned Valentine’s Day and birthday combined. Thank you to Sister for sharing this sardonic piece on the irony of Mother’s Day, and to Ellen over at The Examined Life for sharing this more contemplative perspective on all that women hold.

I think about Son, Daughter, Husband, myself… Of Ozan and Shane, Friend, Friend, Friend, Tribe. I know in some cases, and assume without question in others, that our parents are indeed proud of us. Some of it may stem from what we do–our accomplishments, status, etc. But cultural standards and social norms notwithstanding, I think true parental pride blooms when we see who our children are. Outside the distorting lens of evolutionary drive for progengy survival and intrinsic, self-perpetuating narcissism, who better than our parents see everything about us–our strengths, quirks, triggers, and regrets? Who else witnesses the full panoramic mural of our character, built brick by laborious brick, painted in layers of pigment and divergent media, over our lifetime, starting in our mothers’ wombs? The most fortunate of us benefit from the love and guidance of multiple supportive adults throughout our development. But parents, and moms in particular, hold that special place–that vantage of deep observation and knowledge of the whole of us–or at least the full potential of it.

As usual, when I experience some profound sensation or insight, I feel a need to discharge it. I need to put it somewhere, do something useful with it.

So what about the people for whom I have a hard time imagining proud parents? They are the ones I perceive as uncaring, arrogant, mean, belligerent, and harmful to those around them. How do their moms see them?

Now there’s a fascinating thought experiment. Can I imagine their mom? What does she know that I don’t, how would she respond similarly to and differently from me, witnessing the same behavior in her child? Could she and I, in the best circumstance, help each other understand her child better, more wholly? After all, parents are human; we have biases (see intrinsic narcissism) that blind us to certain realities about our children. It helps us to hear and see outside perspectives, if/when offered in love and compassion.

What makes us say, “…only a mother could love” about someone or something? How cutting and dehumanizing, no? Yikes. We must do better. What tools, frames, mantras, and mindsets can we access, to make more generous assumptions about one another, even/especially about those for whom our default narrative is ‘enemy’ or such? Not much that’s generative or productive emerges when we stand and live in that perspective.

When I see you, talk to you, hear you, experience you, what if I try to take your mother’s best perspective of you, and look harder for her sources of pride in you? Maybe I’ll try this experiment this week. I bet I learn a lot.