Blog Posts - my life in change

WORLDS APART

4/28/2015

I have already touched on Simone’s second step in a previous post but to refresh: 1) be absolutely clear about your goal, 2) understand where you actually are, and 3) notice the difference.

The difference in my case, friends, is legions.

Now, you might think ten pounds isn’t that big a deal. Healthy weight loss can be achieved losing an average of 1-2 pounds a week. I know this because I am an alum of Weight Watchers, Nutrisystem, South Beach, yada, yada, yada. In two months, I could be strolling with my posse wearing my Jimmy Choos into the place of my choosing, preferably one that allows for a wide age-range, say 30s to 80s. Yes, these places exist thanks to us baby boomers, and they don’t always play polka music.

But those ten pounds are actually symbolic. Because I’m looking for real change. And despite my very shallow inspiration from Mom’s Night Out, those ten pounds go deep.

People, I am very far from my goal.

Perhaps this is what Simone wants us to understand through the exercise. That where we are and where we want to be are real places that require actual steps. And it ain’t gonna happen with a glass of Chard in my fist, whiling away the hours watching a "Real Housewives" marathon--and damn if it isn’t Tuesday and my favorite housewives are back, the ladies of New York! Though I’m sending out some love to you, too, Melbourne.

Knowing what I want to get out of it--my night out with my gal pals--helps. It’s the inspiration photo of better times on the fridge, the promised shopping spree at the end of the dieting rainbow, the Post-its with affirmations placed strategically around the kitchen. And luckily, I recorded the movie so I can replay the scene as many times as needed.

But the fact remains that ten-pound-heavier-me and ten-pound-lighter-me are two different people with two very different life-style choices. And they appear worlds apart.

So if I am brutally honest with myself--if I am crystal clear, as Simone directs--me sitting on the couch, popping back crackers laden with gouda, washing them down with chardonnay, laughing at the newest housewives shenanigans and me doing forty minutes or more of cardio, eating my protein-loaded 1200 calories a day? These two women are like a rocket to Mars apart.

In the past, that image alone would have me pouring the wine and grabbing the remote. But I've been blogging and reading and, god-forbid, getting serious about making real change in my life. And I'm curious. What's it gonna take to get to Mars?

I'm ready to get off the couch.

This is my year of change. I hope you join me.

Please feel free to comment below.

THE GIDGET FACTOR

4/26/2015

I am a shallow human being. I just need you to understand what you’re working with here.

Back when I was studying law at UC Berkeley, Boalt Hall, I was up for a pretty prestigious scholarship, for my skills for advocacy mostly. I’m sure you can’t tell here, but I’m a bit of a talker. I managed to use that talent to do well in classes that involved, well, talking persuasively. During my interview for my scholarship, I was asked the one question you would expect, the one you would prepare for: What made me want to study law? And I wasn’t prepared. Because I wanted to be spontaneous. Speak from the heart. No canned responses for me, talented speaker that I am. So no preparation.

That’s when I brought up Gidget.

You see, when I turned 9 years old, I was watching Gidget Grows Up, one of the Gidget episodes in which our dear heroine decides she wants to work at the United Nations. Because Gidget has only two years of college under her belt, the only job she can land is that of tour guide. Well, once I found out that a place like the UN existed, I got it in my head that one day I, like Gidget, would work there. Only I didn’t want to be a tour guide like Gidget. So I decided to become an attorney specializing in International Law.

I stuck religiously to this goal for 14 years. First, I studied languages--I could speak 5 by the time I graduated college. I received my undergraduate degree in International Relations. At Boalt Hall, I took classes in International Law.

Maybe it was the shock value--maybe the middle-aged white men in that room were tired of the same canned responses--but I got my scholarship admitting that Gidget influenced me to study law.

And now, I have found a new muse.

Last night, I watched Mom’s Night Out.

That scene where the ladies slow motion walk into the club like they own it? Yeah. I want to do that. Ok, they were actually walking down the sidewalk on their way to a chichi restaurant, but you get where I’m going with this. Just like that nine-year-old girl who spent fourteen years planning for her job at the UN (And no, I never did work at the UN), I want to walk into a club with my two gorgeous, younger friends, one at each side, and feel the eyes of everyone in the room upon us. Because you can’t help but notice me and my posse. We are that striking. Each step in our Jimmy Choos is real estate we own. And like Sondra, the Patricia Heaton character in Mom’s Night Out, despite the ten years I have on my companions, I will look like I belong.

And for that, I won’t need to learn five languages or get a law degree. But I will need to lose some weight. I figure about 10 pounds.

Now, before you judge me for being motivated by some cheesy movie scene, I will point out that the reason these scenes appear in movies is precisely because they are powerful. Those women walking into that restaurant hit a universal truth. It’s practically Campbellesque. The plot built to that moment--the film maker wanted my reaction. Maybe it touched on something as mundane as recapturing my youth, I’m really not sure. But I know that I want to arrive somewhere, hair blowing back, my two gals--one blonde, one brunette--both gorgeous and much, much younger than me, my wing women. And it will be empowering.

It took almost the entire month of April but I have accomplished Simone’s first step. I know what I want to get out of my goal. Booyah.

This is my year of change. I hope you join me.

Please feel free to comment below.

THE WANTER

3/30/2015

I’ve been thinking about the Wanter lately. It’s something we talk about a lot during what I now refer to as my Monday morning cabal. I always wanted to be a member of a cabal. As a kid, my cousin and I played private eye and we used to take the cards that fell out of magazines and fill them out with made-up names and lives to file away like dossiers on people we were investigating. I grew up to write thrillers. So yeah, a cabal is right up my alley. And it sounds a hell of a lot sexier than a support group or a coffee klatch.

The Wanter is a term my neighbor refers to often during our cabal. He’s not sure if he read it somewhere or came up with it himself but over time I can see that he’s made it his own. His basic premise is this: unless you engage your Wanter, whatever changes you are trying to make will not happen.

I’ve never really been too sure what the Wanter refers to but once I found Sonia Simone’s piece on change, it started to make more sense. If it’s true that people like myself, those artistic types who rely on whimsy and inspiration, work on the premise posted by Simone, “what do I want out of this,” then the Wanter becomes a real force. Here lies motivation. Hedonist that I am, change is more likely to occur if I engage my Wanter.

There is obviously a difference between wanting something, as in I-want-to-lose-weight, and the Wanter, and Simone’s what-do-I-want-out-of-this? I want to lose weight is a goal that requires changes in behavior that I apparently won’t actually do until I connect the behavior to my Wanter. I assume answering the question, “what do I want out of this?” will help make that connection. My neighbor has a similar exercise, which I still don’t quite understand, but that seems to require “honest inquiry” to suss out my “real desire.” Both he and Simone intimate that it’s a kind of “I’ll know it when I see it” thing. The answer will just feel right.

So far, I’ve talked about it. I’ve journaled about it. I’ve slept on it. I’ve made an “honest inquiry” about my “real desire.” But I’m afraid I’ve got nothing. And I’ve gained 2 pounds.

Finding out what I really, really want appears to be harder than it looks.

H’oh boy.

This is my year of change. I hope you join me.

Please feel free to comment below.

COUNTING SHEEP

3/22/2015

In her article, “The Complete Flake’s Guide to Getting Things Done,” posted on the Remarkable Communication website, Sonia Simone writes that in order to get something done--complete a goal, finish a project--you first have to know what it is you want to get out of it. I believe this is about finding proper motivation. We're on step one of seven, folks.

I understand that I am a hedonist. And, as Simone points out, I am very good at doing something I want to do. So how do I connect my goals, which require long-term discipline, with an immediate reward? How do I change all those “have-tos” into “want-tos?”

Interestingly enough, Joey Klein encourages us to do something similar--through meditation, attach a positive emotion to healthy behavior you want to repeat. Simone suggests a flakier approach: Take a pen and paper and write down the answer to the question, “What do I want out of this thing?” She would have me keep writing, being careful not to “adopt someone else’s formula,” and answer the question in a way that feels real to me. If Simone is right and my super power as a flake is that I am very good at doing what I feel like doing, answering the question should plug into some very strong motivation.

While Simone’s methods seem less about a lifestyle change and more appropriate for “getting things done”--it’s right there in the title, folks--I’m game. Looking back at my New Year’s resolution to get healthy and sell a book, I can’t say I’ve made much progress. Dry January did not lead to Fit February or Moderate March, words I ambitiously doodled as possible post titles. Still, I do feel that, well, I’m sorta, kinda learning some important stuff. The bubble in the lava lamp isn’t exactly rising to the top but it’s getting bigger there at the murky bottom. I just need to apply more heat.

So, what do I want to get out of losing weight? It’s as good a place as any to start and something I’ve done more times than most--here, I’ll refer back to my Renee Zellweger comparison, my Bridget Jones/Chicago weight swings. I probably could teach a course on weight loss having done the crazy diets, the sensible diets--the Nutrisystems, the Weight Watchers, the South Beaches, the cleanses, the personal trainer with the heart of gold and the workout ethic of a masochist. I know how to lose weight. Keeping it off? Not so much.

When I ask myself what do I want to get out of weight loss, the usual suspects come to mind about looking fabulous in my fifties or feeling good about myself again because I faintly resemble those women on the magazines--we’re talking the cover of MORE not Vogue, here, so everyone relax. And frankly, those bitches are a little too hot, making even the act of aging an Olympic event. Really? I’m supposed to look like Julianne Moore in my fifties? Really? But if I’m to understand Simone’s exercise, what I need to uncover is motivation powerful enough to actually get me to want to eat less and exercise more, two things that don’t seem to be a part of my DNA.

I spent a good hour discussing my “want” with my therapist--who did help me come up with a great reward system for working on my book but who warned that long-term changes like abstaining from alcohol or losing weight can be a good deal tricker for someone with my personality type. I also spent time sweating over the free weights with my trainer who tried to sell the “endorphins” angle, how exercise gives a mood boost--if only I were willing to actually do an hour of cardio.

My trainer did get me to agree to leave my “den of sin,” her name for my house, three times a day and walk to the gym, which happens to be a mere two blocks from my home. Once there, I am to attempt 10 minutes of cardio. Her thinking is that I have lost touch with the usual motivators--the compliments on weight loss and the desired health benefits--because I am instead holed up in my “den of sin” with my vino and my Real Housewives. No one is reaching out from that television set to encourage me to eat right and burn 500 calories a day (Although I find the Real Housewives of New York very motivating--bitches look good!).

I tried to get my husband involved, hoping that together we could come up with a reward system that would motivate the both of us. But his blank stare over his Chinese chicken salad said, “I got nothin’.”

Thus far, everything I’ve come up with seems like I’m “adopting someone else’s formula.” Nothing “feels real” to me, although my discussions with my therapist, trainer, and husband have me feeling a little motivated. But I know I’m not there. Celery and the elliptical are not calling to me. I haven’t even come close to finding a “want” here. So I’m going to employ another one of Simone’s methods: I’m gonna sleep on it. Ask my unconscious to grapple with my motives over weight loss and see what churns up.

This is my year of change. I hope you join me.

Please feel free to comment below.

FROM HERE TO ETERNITY

3/13/2015

I have discovered a new KISS method (Keep It Simple Stupid) to achieving personal change. Whenever I am faced with a challenging situation or a choice that will affect my goals, I ask myself, “Where do I want to be? Where am I now? What can I do in the next 20 minutes to get myself closer to where I want to be?”

I found this method reading, “The Complete Flake’s Guide To Getting Things Done,” by Sonia Simone, posted on the Remarkable Communication website. In her piece, Ms. Simone addresses the needs of people who are creative and smart, funny and charming, people who care more about experiences than about stuff. Simone’s flakes talk a good game but have trouble getting results. They have plenty of desire but need to learn how to get things done. Basically, Simone is describing me.

Simone sets out 7 reasonably painless steps. To paraphrase: 1) figure out what you want to get out of the task, 2) notice the difference between where you are and where you want to be, 3) choose a next step toward your goal, preferable something you can do in 20 minutes, 4) focus on actions that you really, really want to do, 5) repeat steps 1 through 4 until it feels right, 6) harness your unconscious and keep track of its insights, 7) keep it to 3 to 4 areas of change. She refers readers to Robert Fritz’s “Pivotal Technique,” from his book, Path of Least Resistance and David Allen’s book, Getting Things Done, both of which I plan to read. I found her short and easy-to-read article to be a gold mine of information, but my basic take-away is this: Know what I want and why I want it and realize how far I am from what I want, then do something in the next 20 minutes that gets me closer to what I want. Easy peasy.

Simone calls upon what she refers to as the flake’s superpower--we are very good at doing what we feel like doing. I am a confessed hedonist so if someone says I can use that as a superpower to achieve my goals I am so in. Her mental exercises involve things like asking your unconscious to let you know what it is you don’t like about a particular action, then find a way to get around it. Unlike mindfulness and meditation, this approach does not intimidate me--I don’t feel overwhelmed. Not in the least. The fact is, Simone is speaking my language.

After studying her take on how to get results, I’ve been using a kind of shorthand. I ask myself the following, “Where do I want to be? Where am I now? What can I do in the next 20 minutes to get closer to my goal?” So when I sit down to lunch with a friend, instead of hitting what I refer to as my “fuck-it button” and ordering those yummy Hawaiian spare ribs, I ask myself, “Hey, you want to lose weight because your goal is to look better and feel better. You’re going to forget the taste of those spare ribs pretty damn fast--in fact you already know exactly what they taste like because you’ve had them before--so choose the chicken salad with the dressing on the side. That’s a decision that gets you closer to fit and fabulous.”

I plan in the weeks ahead to delve more deeply into Simone’s 7 steps, one step at a time. But in the meantime, those questions I ask myself have already started to make a difference. And more importantly, they feel right ... which means there’s actually a chance I will follow through.

This is my year of change. I hope you join me.

Please feel free to comment below.

MARCH MADNESS

3/11/2015

It might seem as if I am circling the drain here, but I actually believe I am on to something.

Whenever I read tips on how to achieve personal change--like the ones I listed previously for getting back on track with my New Year’s resolution--it feels as if I need to change fundamentally as a person first in order to follow said tips and, well, change.

Where are the articles listing how artistic types with short attention spans and big dreams achieve change? Because I’m pretty sure any chart I write up or reasonable goals I set or accountability buddies I court might have the lifespan predicted for those New Year’s resolutions--dead in 30 days or less.

Confession: I’m shocked I’ve managed to keep this blog going. And no promises that it will be around in December.

So how do flaky people achieve change?

Again, I give it a goog and Yatze! And thank you in advance for allowing me to indulge in some cross-generational slang.

I don’t really know how I missed this. I’m a writer and, as in real estate where they taut the mantra, “location, location, location,” my profession lives by the motto, “character, character, character.” Here's a crazy insight. The change I am trying to achieve is not so much to refashion who I am fundamentally as a person. I will not in a day, a year, or a lifetime, transform into my beloved engineer hubby, who navigates his world of charts and accountability with a finesse I envy. To reinvent myself is surely a task that falls squarely in that “False Hope Syndrome” category. The trick then becomes to find a way to use traits inherent in my character to help me achieve my goals.

The good news, folks, is that there are actually people who recognize that creative, smart types with a lot of passion--but not so much follow-through--want to achieve personal change, and reading their approaches is kinda blowing my mind.

Clearly, there is no “one size fits all” solution to achieving personal change--note the word “personal” in that statement. Thus far, I believe I have been a poor advocate for approaches that have inspired many to change because I have a kind of square-peg-round-hole thing going on. So rather than reading about “charts” and “mindfulness,” I am now learning about “getting real” and “what feels right,” words that sound as deliciously flaky as a croissant warm from the oven. And I’m excited. Salivating, even.

This is my year of change. I hope you join me.

Please feel free to comment below.

YELLOW BRICK ROAD

2/28/2015

So how to get back on track. The news isn’t all doom and gloom but apparently I need to check my expectations. Folks, we’re back to baby steps.

Well, more like concrete, reasonable steps that can be measured, or so states Ray Williams in his post, “Why New Year’s Resolutions Fail,” which I read on the Psychology Today website (Originally published on Wired for Success.) Among the plethora of articles I found online, Williams covered 3 of my January touchtones: baby steps, mindfulness, and changing neural pathways. Williams, the author of Breaking Bad Habits, would have us focus on one, not several, resolutions. The resolution must be realistic and specific and we shouldn’t wait for New Years if we’re looking to make a lifestyle change. Aim for small steps and have an accountability buddy--and celebrate milestones! Okay, I’m already feeling overwhelmed just listing these, but there’s more. Focus on behavior (we’re trying to change neural pathways here!), and on the present. And be mindful. Really, just read the article.

Williams also introduced me to the term “False Hope Syndrome,” which lead me to read the ever-so-depressing treatise by Peter Herman and Janet Polivy on the subject.

So, back to my expectations. Apparently, I fail because I am not reasonable in my goals. False hopes are buoyed on the tide of lofty (read impossible) dreams.

Here, I would like to point out that my husband, the level-headed engineer--who would not find any of the above tips even the least bit daunting--has never in his life set a New Year’s resolution.

My point is that those of us who are drawn to the thought that in one magical night we can, in a sense, review and renew ourselves, by setting a New Year’s resolution in the first place aren’t exactly the audience these articles seem to address. Moderation! Accountability! Keep a chart!

But we’re the ones reading them.

So now I must take a breath and break down what I’ve read, put it into language I understand.

Those are my baby steps.

This is my year of change. I hope you join me.

Please feel free to comment below.

ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE

2/27/2015

I should have called this segment, “Where New Year’s Resolutions go to die,” because the answer apparently is February. Studies show that while almost half of us make resolutions in January, most of us give it all of 30 days, abandoning our goal by the next month.

I can’t say that I failed because Dry January had a beginning, a middle, and an achieved end. But the fact that I didn’t experience lasting change by modifying my behavior for one month has left me feeling, well, like a failure.

Apparently, I am not alone. Psychologists suggest that there may be an entire cycle of defeat at work here. We set unrealistic goals and when we fail the resulting hit to our self-esteem bleeds into other aspects of our life. In that sense, making a New Year’s resolution can actually do more harm than good.

The premise appears to be that if we are using our resolutions to attempt lofty goals or to reinvent ourselves, then we’re doomed to fail. And if you really want to get depressed, read about the “False Hope Syndrome,” identified by psychology professors Peter Herman and Janet Polivy, which basically posits that when we set a difficult if not impossible task for ourselves and ultimately fail, we interpret our failure in such a way that, with a few adjustments, we believe success to be within our grasp next time around. Like hamsters on a wheel, we continue the cycle of failure, renewed attempt, failure. Possibly indefinitely.

To put the final nail on my resolution coffin, statistics show that attempts to rid ourselves of unhealthy behaviors that are intrinsically rewarding, like over-eating or drinking alcohol, might just fall into that “impossible goal” category. So when I revisit my January text to see that, indeed, a great part of my New Year’s resolution involves losing weight and moderating my drinking, I can only think, yep. Hamster on the wheel.

Because I’ve always been of the belief that we fail ... until we don’t. I am my own Renee Zellweger. I just happen to be in my Bridget Jones Diary phase. Chicago is just around the corner. Which apparently makes me the very incarnation of the False Hope Syndrome.

So welcome February. Take a seat. Have a cocktail. While I try to figure out how to modify my goals and get them out of the gutter of unrealistic. Possibly make some real progress.

This is my year of change. I hope you join me.

Please feel free to comment below.

WHEN LIFE GETS MESSY

2/24/2015

There may be something to the Wet February theory.

I didn’t so much as fall off the wagon as land in New York. I went for a week, to see my daughter, an actress and writer, and to meet with my agent about my current project, which, like me, seems to be in search of a new identity.

Let me make this perfectly clear: I heart New York. One of my sweetest memories is taking a cab across Central Park to the West Side. Fresh snow had fallen that night and it was early enough that the blanket of white remained pristine. I drifted past a winter wonderland as Paul McCartney crooned Michelle Ma Belle from the radio. This was before Big Brother-esque television screens padded the back seat of every cab, blasting tourists with restaurant and shopping opportunities. That morning with Sir Paul was surreal and I will never forget it.

But I don’t like the cold. And it’s always cold in New York in February.

Born on a tropical island. Check. Live in Southern California. Check.

I had a frequent flyer ticket that would expire if I didn’t fly before the 27th of the month. A series of unfortunate events the year prior had prevented me from going earlier to enjoy more favorable climes. Now I was forced to brave what was typical for this time of the year: a high of 32 and a low of 8.

I thought I was prepared. I really did. I’d studied abroad in Paris during winter session. I’d traveled to the very tip of Scotland once for a friend’s wedding in late fall. I had a really great coat. But nah.

My solution for inhospitable weather? I would eat and drink my way through the city.

My daughter served as my able guide. I feasted on butternut squash schnitzel, spaetzle with spinach in a delectable garlic and chili meyer lemon butter at Freemans. Gorged on grilled corn with chili powder and lime and Cuban sandwiches (voted best in NYC!) at Cafe Habana. I got my Southern on at Sweet Chick where I indulged in a bloody mary adorned with maple-glazed bacon and the best shrimp and grits to tease these taste buds. Really, it was a Foodapalooza. I’ve done the work for you. If you go to New York, just follow my bread crumbs ... or maple-glazed bacon, as it were.

But we left the best for last: dinner at Recette.

I could be irritated with my daughter that she has known about this gem for three years but mentioned Recette for the first time on this visit. But I’m a writer and I understand point of view. My daughter exercises daily, varying from kick boxing, distance running, and yoga to avoid muscle fatigue--she wants me to join her in something she calls the “squirrel diet.” So yeah. Delicious food, probs something she tries not to think about all that much. And she certainly wouldn’t throw down serious cash on it. On her weak calorie days, I imagine a jar of peanut butter or Girl Scout cookies may be involved.

But even she admitted, “I can’t believe I haven’t taken you to Recette before now!” She knows I’m a foodie. And Recette is foodie heaven.

We should have just put in for the tasting menu. That would have been the smart choice. But along with my daughter, we invited a good friend of hers, and as three intelligent, strong-willed women, we thought we knew better.

I ate a lot of food that night. A lot of wonderful food. It was culinary Christmas and we just kept ordering.

I’ll mention the high points here. Location: Recette reminds me so much of classic Paris that I felt transported. Quiet, romantic, timeless. Cocktails: Fleur de Citron, featuring, you guessed it, St. Germain with sparkling wine and lemon-thyme foam. And the J’ardin D’Eden, Hendricks gin, cucumber, basil, fresh lime and ginger syrup. Not since attending the José Andrés Mezcal festival in DC had I drank such inventive and delicious cocktails. Food: Of course, there is the “Buffalo” sweetbreads with pickled celery and blu di bufala dip, the sweetness from that tender crispy goodness complimented by the kick of sriracha and the sharpness of the cheese. But the most amazing thing I ate that night was the beef carpaccio, burrata with tomato jam, porcini puree, basil seeds and watercress, a decadent purse of carpaccio filled with the creamy richness of burrata cheese--melt in my mouth scrumptiousness complimented by the tang and sweetness of tomato jam.

There was another wave of deliciousness involving salt cod fritters in a lamb sausage ragu with curry aioli and guinea hen with flavors of coq au vin, pear, and trumpet mushrooms, as well as berkshire pork belly with rock shrimps, turnips, romesco, and sherry caramel. Later, I licked the plate clean of the apple upside down cake while the girls devoured the chef’s unique interpretation of S’mores.

I’m not a food writer but everything that night was innovative, balanced, and, to use a very technical term, yummy. I will miss that beef carpaccio. I will miss you, Recette.

I came home to a disastrously gutted couch, doggy revenge for my absence. Given my foodie hangover from New York, I thought it a fitting metaphor. As I snipped off strips of kelly green duct tape--this was not my dog’s first rodeo--to piece together my leather couch, I wondered how to do the same with my grand plans for change.

This is my year of change. I hope you join me.

Please feel free to comment below.

POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE

2/1/2015

With Dry January behind me, I am taking a moment for quiet reflexion. For me, Dry January ended on Friday, when I had wine with dinner under the theory of “good enough.” Wait, what? No special cocktail with St. Germain? I was actually surprised at how little pomp and circumstance I gave the moment--although there was a selfie with my husband to our kids hoisting our glasses. And, no, I didn’t wait until February 1st. I’m not much for those kind of details, believing more in the “spirit” of the proposition rather than its “letter.”

Here’s what I learned. Change requires effort and despite all my kicking and screaming I can participate in substitution, distraction, and meditation. I even tried mindful attention when negative thoughts had me circling the drain of, “Fat, Fifty, and a Failure.” Blogging really helped. So did my Brain Trust, my neighbors, with whom I meet once a week to discuss our efforts at achieving lasting change in our lives. I returned to therapy sessions and even tried hypnosis.

The whole thing is a little like eating your spinach. Maybe you hate the taste at first, but eventually you learn how to incorporate it into your diet--although I still haven’t figured out how to be “happy” about my metaphorical spinach, so maybe I’m not at the point where I’m mindlessly picking out a sprig from the salad to munch on while I cut tomatoes. But it’s a start.

And that’s the point. It’s a start. But can I make it a lifestyle?

Go Pats!

This is my year of change. I hope you join me.

Please feel free to comment below.