Resolute This
I bought some funny cocktail napkins at Christmas.
Two women holding martini glasses.
One says, “It’s a little early for a cocktail. When did you start drinking?”
And the other answers, “March 2020.”
Yes, that’s about right.
It’s been a great run. Almost three years.
What better than a pandemic for eating what I want, drinking what I want, and exercising if I feel like it—for over 1000 days?
It has been one long haul. (And yet note that I’m writing here about first-world problems...I get that.)
During this stretch, New England IPAs and varieties of Pinot have been reliable company for me. But they also tend to have brought along flabbiness around the midsection.
I haven’t gained a ton of weight, but some.
And there is some shifting/relocating going on.
I look at myself in the mirror or see myself in a photo, and think, “Ugh! I’m fat!”
Or as I eat that third piece of candy, I say to myself, “You’re weak! No self-control!”
Or I let my Peleton sit for a few months in a row, kind of forgetting about the monthly payments.
Generally, I feel like a slug. Since March 2020.
But—at the same time—I’m a slug-coach.
I know how to snail-pace my way out of this.
Don’t I?
I know how powerful limiting beliefs can be. I know how damaging our self-talk can be. Most of my clients say that the most demoralizing things they hear are what they say to themselves.
What we say to ourselves can actually be violent: manipulative, coercive words that bring on guilt, shame, fear, blame.
In Mark Epstein’s book The Zen of Therapy, he points out that negative self-talk is how we dis-integrate. It is how we separate the self from ourselves.
Dis-integrating.
Yet we all do it.
I can be downright unsupportive to the person I see in the mirror, to that self who feels anxious at night, to that careless me who made that mistake at work.
But I will come around.
I am working on radical inclusivity—of all parts of this crazy me.
How hard are you on yourself?
And what if you instead truly loved that self, that whole being and body?
What would it look like to assume the most radical inclusivity toward yourself? To bring in and welcome all the parts of you. The achiever parts, the bloated parts, the award-winning parts, the suspicious parts, and the stay-in-pajamas-all-day parts.
All of those parts of you—body, mind, and heart—are what make you the most magically unique person.
And then, there’s managing that monkey on your back. That voice in your head that can be downright unhelpful around all of those different things you bring.
Imagine you have thought over the holidays, “I am so lazy.” Bernard Meltzer had three questions to consider in these moments. Before saying anything like this to yourself, he suggests you ask yourself, “Is it true?”; then “Is it helpful?”; and finally, “Is it kind?”.
In this case, I’m lazy: “Is it true?” Maybe, a bit.
Then, “Is it helpful?” Not very.
And finally, “Is it kind?” Not at all.
If the answer to any of these questions (is it true, helpful, kind?) is a no or not really, then the thing should remain unsaid. This applies whether you are talking to someone else, or even to yourself.
In this case, 2 of the 3 questions were not helpful and kind. So I shouldn’t say it to myself. Or don’t keep saying it. If I have to, notice it, and let it go.
What might I say instead?
Maybe instead of thinking I’m lazy, I can say: I am enjoying a relaxing Sunday off. That’s true too.
And then, “Back off, you!”
It’s quite a brave thing to stop fussing over what we say to ourselves, and instead just get down it and embrace all parts. To stop fretting over that critical, judgmental voice and just bring her in for a big hug. You can respond, “Yes, it is what it is. I am where I am today…because I have been doing whatever the hell I want since March 2020.”
Dag Hammarskjöld, former secretary general of the UN had some wise words for us all. He recognized what it takes to tackle these significant battles against ourselves. Dag said, “Be pure and dare in this fight with the mountain...with myself against me.”