Let’s talk scented candles. My favorite is Havana by Archipelago Botanicals--the smell just puts me in heaven. My sister bought me my first Havana candle for a birthday and I’ve been hooked ever since. I’m sure she chose the candle because of the name--we were both born in Havana--but I find the blend of bergamot, tobacco leaf, and ylang-ylang magical.
An 80-hour artisan candle will set you back $45 and, yesterday, I bought more than one online. I also bought a diffuser, a pillar candle and bath salts, all in Havana. These were not my only candle crimes. At my “local” Nieman Marcus (It’s a good 30 minute drive to Fashion Island in Newport Beach), I bought an equally pricey Molton Brown candle in Relaxing Yuan Zhi.
Retail therapy ... probably not what my scientists were thinking when they suggested distraction as a coping mechanism. But it makes perfect sense to me that the first thing I gravitate towards is probably not a “healthy” distraction.
Still searching for my magic bullet (exercise and meditation, bah humbug!), I hit Google and wade through a surprising number of definitions for distracter tasks. Eventually, I land on the Psychology Today website for “Where Science Meets the steps: The new science of addiction,” by David Sack, M.D. In a post entitled, “What Is Healthy Distraction?” Dr. Sack discusses both healthy and unhealthy distractions and how distraction works. He also provides a link to an AddictionTreatmentWiki post (Holy WikiLeaks! They have their own addiction magazine?), “Coping Mechanisms,” which cites exercise, positive thinking, journaling, meditation, relaxation techniques, and talk therapy as healthy distractions.
But here’s the thing: All of the above sound like real work. To me, a distraction should be effortless. A go-to bandaid like a baby’s binky. I pop it in my mouth until the craving passes and my good neurons fire, guiding me toward healthier modes of coping ... like exercise and meditation.
I reach out to a therapist friend. She practices cognitive behavioral therapy, or CBT, and since “behavior” is in the title I figure her advice should be on the nose. Unfortunately, she doesn’t warm to my idea of a mental binky. According to her, distraction, as outlined above, is an activity that requires effort.
I bring up that thingy people do with a rubber band on their wrist. But she clarifies that, while the pain from the rubber band snapping can disrupt the thought, “I want a drink,” the act needs to be followed by an actually behavior to replace the drinking, like, drumroll please, exercise and meditation. She suggests I make a list of 15 minute tasks I can do around the house instead, the idea being that these tasks will distract me from the urge to grab that lovely cab Whitehall Lane just delivered to my doorstep (because I’m part of their wine club), long enough for the bad urges to pass, after which I break out the real distraction techniques of exercise, meditation, yada, yada, yada.
I can’t tell you how disappointed I am by the idea of housework as a distraction from fine wine. It just seems like a really bad trade-off. The child inside me wonders why I can’t just have my cake and eat it too? In my case, that would be to consume all the wine and food I want while watching scads of television and still managing to lose weight, maintain a successful relationships with my family and friends, and write a bestselling novel.
Yeah. I’m dreaming.
After drawing up a lengthy list of 15 minute tasks, I drive to my local grocery store to shop for dinner. There I find a lovely smelling 60-hour candle for a reasonable $19. It’s the little things, people.
This is my year of change. I hope you join me.
Please feel free to comment below.
An 80-hour artisan candle will set you back $45 and, yesterday, I bought more than one online. I also bought a diffuser, a pillar candle and bath salts, all in Havana. These were not my only candle crimes. At my “local” Nieman Marcus (It’s a good 30 minute drive to Fashion Island in Newport Beach), I bought an equally pricey Molton Brown candle in Relaxing Yuan Zhi.
Retail therapy ... probably not what my scientists were thinking when they suggested distraction as a coping mechanism. But it makes perfect sense to me that the first thing I gravitate towards is probably not a “healthy” distraction.
Still searching for my magic bullet (exercise and meditation, bah humbug!), I hit Google and wade through a surprising number of definitions for distracter tasks. Eventually, I land on the Psychology Today website for “Where Science Meets the steps: The new science of addiction,” by David Sack, M.D. In a post entitled, “What Is Healthy Distraction?” Dr. Sack discusses both healthy and unhealthy distractions and how distraction works. He also provides a link to an AddictionTreatmentWiki post (Holy WikiLeaks! They have their own addiction magazine?), “Coping Mechanisms,” which cites exercise, positive thinking, journaling, meditation, relaxation techniques, and talk therapy as healthy distractions.
But here’s the thing: All of the above sound like real work. To me, a distraction should be effortless. A go-to bandaid like a baby’s binky. I pop it in my mouth until the craving passes and my good neurons fire, guiding me toward healthier modes of coping ... like exercise and meditation.
I reach out to a therapist friend. She practices cognitive behavioral therapy, or CBT, and since “behavior” is in the title I figure her advice should be on the nose. Unfortunately, she doesn’t warm to my idea of a mental binky. According to her, distraction, as outlined above, is an activity that requires effort.
I bring up that thingy people do with a rubber band on their wrist. But she clarifies that, while the pain from the rubber band snapping can disrupt the thought, “I want a drink,” the act needs to be followed by an actually behavior to replace the drinking, like, drumroll please, exercise and meditation. She suggests I make a list of 15 minute tasks I can do around the house instead, the idea being that these tasks will distract me from the urge to grab that lovely cab Whitehall Lane just delivered to my doorstep (because I’m part of their wine club), long enough for the bad urges to pass, after which I break out the real distraction techniques of exercise, meditation, yada, yada, yada.
I can’t tell you how disappointed I am by the idea of housework as a distraction from fine wine. It just seems like a really bad trade-off. The child inside me wonders why I can’t just have my cake and eat it too? In my case, that would be to consume all the wine and food I want while watching scads of television and still managing to lose weight, maintain a successful relationships with my family and friends, and write a bestselling novel.
Yeah. I’m dreaming.
After drawing up a lengthy list of 15 minute tasks, I drive to my local grocery store to shop for dinner. There I find a lovely smelling 60-hour candle for a reasonable $19. It’s the little things, people.
This is my year of change. I hope you join me.
Please feel free to comment below.
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