Weight Loss Tip Booklet - 151 Simple Ideas

 
 
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.




 
 
Early morning routine: Jack, my dog, and I are taking our walk. His leash is in my hand, my headphones are clamped over my ears; I am absorbed in the back-and-forth of my favorite podcast. Jack and I; just doin’ our thing.

The neighborhood is residential; no major thoroughfares, so I’m quite cognizant of the large diesel truck that rattles up next to us and slows down. Matching my pace, the driver waves at me. I assume he’s just being friendly so I return the action, figuring he knows me from my decades of living in a smaller community.

He gestures again, this time I recognize he’s motioning me to come over. Pulling Jack’s leash in tight, we walk on to the street and approach the open passenger window.

The white truck’s interior is clean, uncluttered, and modern, with a flat screen in the center of the dashboard. As for its only passenger, he appears to be in his forties, healthy, short-cropped hair, and brandishing a smile as big as the vehicle and as warm as its motor.

Leaning toward me across the center console, he opens, “You probably don't remember me…”

He's correct.

“…About 25 years ago, I applied for a job working for you. You didn't hire me.”

“I'm sorry.” A slight rumbling of anxiety bubbles in my belly. Is this some form of latent workplace revenge?

“No need to apologize,” he quickly adds, waiving away the thought with his hand. “You were very nice and polite. You told me that you thought I was overqualified and that I would get bored, and you felt my talents would be better used elsewhere. I took your advice.”

The truck continues its diesel clattering, I move in closer to hear better.

“I wanted you know that I now run this company; it’s worth a few million dollars. I'm really happy how things turned out. You were right.”

Pleased (and relieved), I respond, “Oh! I’m glad. Maybe YOU should hire ME.”

His laugh is warm, friendly, and relaxed. I suddenly feel like I’m talking to an old friend.

“I see you with your wife walking your dog, and I keep meaning to tell you how grateful I am. But it never seemed the right time — until now.”

“Thank you for doing so. I’m really delighted it worked out so well. It’s nice to know.”

Cars line up and are then forced to drive around us, so, as much as I’m now enjoying this unexpected interlude, I’m self-conscious, and figure I better move on. Before I can, he adds, “Sometimes the Lord pushes you in directions through the people you meet. You are one of those people.” He pauses and looks me in the eyes. “Thank you.”

With that, we shook hands through the window, said goodbye, and the truck disappeared around the corner.

I remained a statue in the road, and reflected on what just happened. I was humbled, uplifted, honored, and — in some way — I had a more pronounced sense of purpose. I don’t know how else to explain it.

We never know, do we, when an action we take will affect someone else in a profound manner? We take care of our families, and ourselves, and in between we try to do our best to treat others with respect and dignity, hoping and praying it all turns out well in the end. Once in awhile, we are lucky enough to find out it did.

What we do matters – in ways we might never even begin to know.

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.
 
 
I have a very unassuming, quick-thinking question. Don’t ponder the answer; just blurt it out. Ready? (Um, that’s not the question.)

Here we go: “Who are you?”

At first blush, it’s such an innocuous query and our replies come by rote. We provide our name. But, in reality, that’s not accurate, because my name is not WHO I am, it’s WHAT I am called; it’s a label.

Okay, take it down a level: Who is — in my case — Scott Marcus?

Well, I could reply, “a man,” “father,” or even “American.” Those are all true — and actually more descriptive than responding with my name. They deliver more detail, but are still painfully vague. One person’s “man” creates images of football players, while another’s is an accountant, neither of which fit me. Piling on additional descriptors becomes the next step, “56 year old speaker, writer, father of two sons, married, lives in Eureka.”

Certainly this constructs a more vibrant portrayal, but it is still soooooo scratching the surface. For example, should I move from my coastal community to the Arizona desert, would I then be a different person? Better yet, am I still the same person I was a few years ago, or do every 365 days establish a new being?

Circumstances change, but that alone does not mean we are no longer who we were; there is a consistency that remains our core. These modifiers therefore, no matter how many we use, are not answering the core issue. Something lacks.

So, why does this matter?

Words, the vehicle by which we think, create images, which we call “perceptions.” Each of us develops reflex like responses to those perceptions. So, should I say “filthy rich man” or “homeless woman,” we create immediately an image in our mind about who are each of those people. (I know you did when you read them, as did I.)  The hitch is we do not see “individuals;” what we envision are our perceptions of that class of society. Should you be strolling through Old Towne and view someone you perceive to be, for example, a “homeless man,” you create an entire story in your head, BEFORE even meeting him.

This process is not only in action when we see — and label — others. It is also very much in play in how we view ourselves. The words we tap to describe who we are to ourselves affect the images we see about us, portrayed externally to others via our resultant actions.

If I enquire of myself, “Who am I?” And the reply comes: “A clumsy, stupid, moron who cannot do anything right,” I create powerful internal imagery, which in turn, generates an emotional state. Those emotions drive our actions. Logically, therefore, if the language is negative, so too will be its result.

More happily, if my answer is, “A fully-functioning, basically happy, honest, caring, contributing member of society whose doing the best he can to love others, make the world a better place, and take care of himself as well as he can;” those result feelings, and their actions, will be vastly different.  (Saying each answer to yourself and notice how you feel.)

When greeted at a party, that answer might not be appropriate. However, we’ll experience a far healthier and happier life when we can learn to answer our own internal questions in a more positive fashion.

Besides, who would I be if I steered you wrong?

About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a professional speaker and the CDO 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.



 
 
Between the covers of the business book currently on my nightstand, the author devotes few pages to discussing cash flow or spreadsheets, while much ink is dedicated to changing one’s thoughts about money. It is her premise that our income basically determined more by how we think than by the actions we take. Of course, those considerations then produce behaviors, which lead to results. Therefore, if we “dig down” and adjust them, we will do what we do in an altered manner. This provides fresh results improving our business.

In effect, change your thoughts; change your financial life.

The barricade is our ol’ buddy, Denial.

Thought patterns, much like a river cutting a path through granite, our etched into our psyche over time, with much repetition. To refashion such embedded patterns takes a great deal of effort — and it’s not like we’re not busy already, right? Besides, “there’s always tomorrow.”

The author suggests that such transformation only occurs once “we’re hit by a two-by-four.” Of course, she’s speaking figuratively, not literally. (I hate it when people say “literally” when they mean “figuratively.” Sorry, pet peeve…)

Let me expand: Suppose you’re in a floundering relationship. You didn’t get there overnight; it began subtly, “the small things.” For example, you don’t talk as much.  “It’s no big deal,” you think, “We’re just busy right now.” That might be accurate; having said that, “something” still feels off. But, you put it to back burner until you have more evidence — or time.

After awhile, your “couple’s time” becomes more sparse. You are roommates more than partners, on parallel tracks with no intersections. Logically, you can explain it away. “We’ve both got so much on our plates; things will get back to normal soon.” No action taken.

Soon, intimacy, in all its forms, has become a memory. There is now real distance, even a bit of resentment. Nobody brings anything up; you’re not even sure you want to broach the subject. Also, the chasm is now an additional barrier. Oh sure, you’re thinking about “making some changes” when things settle down. For now, it’s “stay the course.”

Then comes the two-by-four: He wants “out.”

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” he says, in a difficult, unexpected (?), conversation. “We’ve grown apart.”

It’s a pattern experienced by millions of couples. Despite the warnings, and their ever-increasing appearances, we are able to rationalize what’s going on, while denying what we felt. Therefore, for most, it takes getting slammed upside the head with a brick (again, “figuratively”) before we do what must be done. This is in any facet of our lives, from our relationships to diets to finance.

Newton’s first law of motion says that a body in motion will remain in motion unless acted on by an external force. In effect, we will do what we do until, painfully; we can no longer deny the results of our actions. Once at that place, we are so overwhelmed, that it seems an insurmountable problem and we remain stagnant in unhappiness.

First of all, it is not undefeatable if we break it into small steps, and engage in them with regularly and immediacy.

That stated, it’s still healthier to avoid that unhappy condition by understanding the urgency of emotions when it comes to moving forward. Look at it this way; our feelings are the gasoline fueling the engine; logic is then the steering wheel. Without the first, we’re going nowhere. Without the latter, we’re out of control. Developing both is essential to leading a happy, well-adjusted life.

About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a professional speaker and the CDO 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.