I love my computer. I love my iPad. I love checking email. I love the Internet.

I used to make fun of Michael for being a social media hound – that is until he bought me an iPhone of my own. Just so you know, I think that the jury is still out on the effects of the smart phone on the evolution of society. My mother wouldn’t let us sing at the dinner table, let alone check messages!

Anyway, we decided to take an unplugged weekend. The first thing we did was tell everyone that we normally talk to everyday that we were going to do it so that no one sent the state police checking up on us (that would be my family, by the way).

Then we literally unplugged the phone, turned off the wireless and hid all of the devices.

And you know what? No one died. Not even a single convulsion.

We talked, we slept, we made love, did yoga, hula hooped, listened to music. We went for a walk and tried a variety of chocolates.

We slept late.

It was glorious.

It was so glorious, in fact, that it may occur a little more regularly than say, never.

If you haven’t unplugged in awhile, try it. You might be surprised.

Because not only did I not miss it as much as I thought I would, the world didn’t fall apart without me. Go figure.

I was at a seminar last week to begin the fun and exciting process of becoming a Nuero-Linguistic Programming Practitioner. I have been going to similar seminars over the last year or so, with roughly the same group of people. Sometimes we learn about marketing. Other times we learn about teaching and learning. Once we learned about personality and personality types. Through it all, I’ve made friends with some of the other participants, while remaining aloof or withdrawn from others.

One of women in the latter group, I will call “S”.

S is, there really is no other way to describe it, drop-dead gorgeous. She’s literally one of these women that stops traffic in busy urban centers.

I’ve known her for close to a year. We’d always smile politely from across the seminar room or maybe even exchange pleasantries in the women’s room – me in my slacks and sweaters and her in her revealing dresses, short skirts, mesh tops, and leather boots. (You know, all of the stuff that I don’t have the personality to pull off even if I had the body!) Me with my hair pulled back tightly in the librarian-like bun and hers in a riot of curls that spills around her shoulders in a shockingly tantalizing manner.

Seriously.

Drop. Dead. Gorgeous.

Smoking Hot is another phrase that pops to mind, but I digress.

About two weeks before the last seminar, I got a friend request on Facebook from S and I spent a day (or more) trying to figure out why. I mean, sure, we’d had a couple of meaningless conversations in the bathroom during breaks, but why would she friend me? I mean, seriously, how did she even know who I was, let alone my name. I promptly determined that she had just seen my picture on someone else’s Facebook page and thought, “Why not?”

Feeling a little suspicious – because, after all, why would someone like her want to be friends with someone like me? – I accepted the invitation and assumed that would be the end of it.

A few days later, I posted a picture of myself on a carousal on Santa Monica pier and she commented: “Beautiful.”

I was flummoxed.

Secretly pleased, but flummoxed nonetheless.

During the seminar, I actually worked with S – not just once, but a few times.

We also chatted.

We also had real conversations about things that mattered and gradually I let my guard down.

And I realized that I really liked her and that maybe I had – in my super-judgmental mode – misjudged her.

Towards the end of the conference, she told me that she had always assumed that I would never be interested in talking to/working with/getting to know her because I had so much education and was a professor, whereas she was a massage therapist and had considerably less formal education than I. (Technically, most of the world does, but that’s besides the point!)

I laughed, because I had never once thought about her intellect – as I could never get past her staggering beauty. (Despite the fact that she is quite intelligent!)

Of course, I had to tell her that I always assumed the same thing – that I had been laboring under the illusion that she would never want to talk to/work with/get to know me, because I was so much less attractive than she.

(You know what “they” say about assumptions – they make an ass out of u and me.)

S and I ended up talking a little more until there were so many commonalities in our lives, that I literally burst into tears. And before I knew it I found myself in the arms of a woman who – three months ago – I had been so intimidated by, that I would barely even say hello to her in a public place.

How sad is that?

I am so glad that she decided to reach out to me. And I am very glad to call her my friend – or should I say, my drop, dead gorgeous, smokin’ hot, intelligent friend!

If there’s someone in your life that you are fascinated by but who you think “would never talk to you” for whatever reason – try it.

The worst thing that could happen is that you could be right.

The best thing, however, is that you could make a new friend and come to see them (and yourself) in a different light.

While I was still trying to figure out what that even meant, she went onto to point out we tend to blame our body for it’s failure to comply with the mind’s demands (i.e., to be thinner, to be healthier, to be stronger). That we try to force our body to do what we want it to do. That we, all to often, feel betrayed for our body for failing to meet our expectations.

Although I had been listening all along, when she used that word – the ugly b-word – I sat up and took notice.

How many times have I used that word in the last six months?

More importantly, how often have I said out loud (or thought without speaking, but that my body could hear nonetheless) that I just couldn’t trust my body.

Isn’t it funny that when my body is doing what I want it to do, I take full credit, but when it’s not (or rather, when I’m not) I blame my body. It only makes me feel marginally better that that’s the way it tends to go for most people. That is, we, as humans, tend to take all the credit for the successes and shirk all of the responsibility (that we can) for the failures.

I hadn’t realized however – that is, until I heard this recording – that I did the same with my body.

My willpower got the credit. My body, as if it weren’t actually a part of me, got the blame.

Pretty interesting, huh?

Pretty sad.

So, in the interest of facilitating my weight loss efforts and minimizing my tendency towards negative self-talk I am willing to accept the fact that there is two of us: the brain (which houses the willpower) and the body.

And I am also willing to entertain the notion that we need a relationship intervention.

And that means that I – that is, my brain, my willpower, my conscious thought (or whatever you want to call it) – is going to have to learn to treat my body as an equal. And that means that I am going to have to start listening to, start trusting, and stop betraying her.

I know that earlier in this post I said that I often felt betrayed by my body. So, if my body is the betrayer, then why would I have to work on not betraying her?

Well, when I started thinking of my body as an equal – even preliminarily – I realized that I (i.e., my mind) has been a worse friend to my body than my body has ever been to me. I’m the one that made the decisions to eat junk, to drink alcohol, to exercise to the point of injury (or not at all), to deprive us of sleep, etc. You name it – with the exception of a few truly dangerous and disgusting habits – I’ve done it.

And what has she done? Well, she’s got me where I want to go and she’s – thankfully – stored fat to protect me from all of the stress of my bad decision making. (For those of you who have been following my efforts at weight release, you probably realize how hard it was for me to actually put that last sentence into writing!)

So, in the interest of creating a true relationship with my body, who is my equal as opposed to being my possession that I can neglect, abuse, or blame at will, I will do my level best to listen, trust, honor, safeguard, nurture, and love.

One of the quickest and most effective ways to create lasting change in your life is through the use of positive affirmations – affirmations are statements that are positive, have an emotional intensity, and are written in the present tense. I will say these these – both morning and night – until, eventually, they’ll be true:

• I listen to my body
• I trust my body
• I honor my body
• I safeguard my body
• I nurture my body
• I love my body

In the past, I used to set goals, like “I’m going to lose ten pounds” or “I’m going to get into a smaller pair of jeans.”

In other words, I used to set outcome goals.

I also used to set goals that didn’t really change. In other words, I would set a goal and that was my goal. There was no reassessment. Once it was set, it was set. Like cement.

I would also set goals that only I knew about. And trust me, those are much easier to forget about than those that you’ve shared with others.

This month, I’m trying something different.

I set a couple of goals – that is, a couple of process oriented goals – and they are my goals for the month of February.

I also didn’t just tell myself what my goals are. I told someone else and asked him to check up on me. Instant accountability! How scary, uhm, I mean, how wonderful is that?

And, believe it or not, it really wasn’t that hard. And the good news is that since they’re my goals for the month (rather than for a lifetime) I can assess myself in terms of my progress. I can either renew the goal or (if it’s become a habit or if it no longer serves me) I can choose another.

The day before yesterday I called Michael J from work and said, “I’d like to talk to you about some fitness goals at dinner and I’d like you to help me succeed. Would that be okay?”

Of course he agreed. I mean, who wouldn’t? It wasn’t like I was asking him to join me or anything? Right?

Essentially, we set down and I said: these are my goals for this month and I would like you help me be accountable.

He – engineer and wonderful partner that he is – actually wrote them down on a note card, which he then stuck promptly beneath the salt cellar.

I thanked Michael J for being totally awesome and supportive and then – like the absent minded professor that I am – promptly forgot about it.

Fast forward to last night at dinner: “Hey babe,” says Michael J, “how much water did you have today?”

What?! My knee jerk reaction: What’s it to you?!

Then I looked at the little card that he had in his hand with three enumerated points on it:

Drink at least 80 ounces of water a day.

Do yoga at least 3 times a week, even if it’s just 30 minutes.

Take vitamins every day.

Only slightly embarrassed, I did a quick calculation: “Seventy-five,” I replied gratefully, “and I imagine it’s probably going to take at least another five to take those vitamins that I forgot to take at breakfast!”

So, those are my three goals for the month of February: water, yoga, and vitamins.

I’m hoping that what “they” say is true and that it really does only take 30 days to make something a habit. Because, trust me, when I am doing these three things regularly without having to stop and think about them, there are plenty of more small, process-oriented goals ready to take their place…..

But until then, I have Michael J and his trusty note card.

By the way, if you’re reading: thanks, babe, you truly are the best.

I am really not bashing skinny people – after all, I want to be one of them, right?

But if another well-intentioned skinny person comments on the quantity of food that I eat, I may scream.

I sat down to a meal recently with a friend of mine and brought out three raw cabbage roles (made with beet and carrot slaw and cashew cheez). All total, that meal had 255 calories in it, max.

My companion exclaims: “Wow, that’s a lot of food!”

I immediately get offended.

I remind them of how it annoyed me when my other friend had made a similar comment about my (“Wow, that’s a lot of smoothie”) Green Smoothie. I then defensively (and this was probably my mistake) pointed out that it only had X many calories and was extremely healthy.

“Oh, I get that,” they responded. “I just couldn’t eat that much food. My stomach’s just not that big.”

Wow.

In less than 2 seconds I went from someone who was feeling pretty darned good about herself physically, to feeling like the 800 pound guy in the pie eating contest at the county fair.

I literally got sick to my stomach and pushed the food away. At that moment, you couldn’t have paid me to eat that food. I seriously thought I was going to throw up.

Luckily, my friend and I are very close and they are incredibly supportive of me. In fact, we were able to resolve it pretty quickly, even though my appetite never did come back.

Essentially, once I was able to breathe, I was able to tell them what was wrong (and why I wasn’t eating).

I first expressed my anger and annoyance.

I also mentioned how strange I think it is that people (and it happens a lot) comment on what I eat. And, because I do admittedly eat large portions of super low calorie food, the amount.

I also asked, quite pointedly, when’s the last time they heard me comment when they have McDonald’s fries or 1/2 a pint of Ben and Jerry’s (or both)?

I also expressed my hurt and even used the 800 lb. guy at the pie eating contest as an example.

Then I expressed my deepest and most irrational fear: is that what you (and everyone else) think of me when you see me sit down and eat a big plate of SALAD?

And then my other deepest fear, that is, granted, slightly less irrational: if I get judged for eating lots of healthy food (by volume, not calories) by my friends, then how am I supposed to feel good about adopting a lifestyle that (by definition) requires that you always have food – lots of food – with you, wherever you go?

Has anyone else come across this? And, if so, what’s the best way around it with everyone’s dignity in tact?

P.S. Now, admittedly, I did razz my father some over the holidays about eating bologna and white dinner rolls, though (at the time) I saw it more as a health issue than as a food issue! Note to self: call your father and apologize.

I actually saw Dr. Christakis, professor at Harvard University, give a talk on this last year at Dartmouth. The data was quite compelling and more than a little bit frightening for those of us who like to think of ourselves as being in control of our own destinies.

Last night we had people over and I decided to go simple.

1) I didn’t have all day to prepare (it was sort of last minute on everyone’s part)
2) Our guests, while foodies, tend to be more snackers than big meal type of people
3) I’ve been working really hard to get my body back from it’s unnatural post-vacation state and I didn’t feel like having a big meat-, carb-, or sauce-heavy meal was going to get me there any sooner.

I really wish I had taken a picture to show you how gorgeous this ended up being. And, more importantly, I can’t even explain how easy it was to put together.

Essentially, we had a local food party. It consisted of freshly picked spinach and arugula, mushrooms, yellow bell peppers, cherry tomatoes, baby carrots, tabbouleh (made with fresh mint and parsley), roasted golden beets, heirloom tomatoes, raw organic almonds (okay, not so local), locally baked bread, locally made cheese (one goat and one made from raw cow’s milk) organic extra virgin olive oil, baba ganoushe and hummus from the local Coop, corn on the cob, and some Quinoa Peruvian Stew that I happened to have in the fridge.

Instead of making a salad, I put out everything in multicolored mix-matched bowls that facilitated not only custom meals, but also easy snacking.

I served the snacky stuff on a wooden tray table out on the deck (before it got chilly and we were forced to move indoors for the main course, which was comprised of the tabbouleh, the stew (served in tiny little bowls) and the corn.

I also served the wine, which meant that I controlled the pours. Since MJ and I are in the process of tasting some of the wine we bought in Mendocino, I did have a single glass of each of the bottles; however, I split the difference between MJ and our guests. Everyone was happy. And because there were so many vegetables (all of which tasted great with the wine), it was easy to munch without feeling bad about it or (God forbid) feeling deprived!

It was really delicious and really easy. Normally when I invite people over, I always think that you have to really do something hard or impressive. Though, in all fairness, that’s probably because I’m a bit shy and would rather be in the kitchen instead of in the conversation.

This time. with a few exceptions, we ate what we normally eat: salad, soup, corn, and sometimes (though not often) bread. Granted, we normally don’t have goat cheese or wine with dinner, but we were having guests. Although I enjoy the big dinner party, there was something nice about just having someone over for a meal. In some ways, it’s way more intimate, as you’re inviting someone for the company, not necessarily the food. It was also easier for me to just enjoy the evening.

So next time you invite someone over, keep it simple. Put your energy into the conversation and put the preparation on the back burner. And if you have other simple entertaining strategies, please pass them on!

Photo Credit: Rock Walker

This time, however, when I saw MJ’s dad, the first words out of this mouth were, “I got you some Boca Burgers and some other type of veggie burger. I also bought organic wheat rolls.”

I was absolutely floored. Touched, but floored.

So, armed with my signature tabouli and MJ’s parents veggie burgers (and some very tasty pickles and olives), I was good to go for completely angst free family cookout.

Thanks, Mr. Y! The burgers were delicious!

The last time I saw some of these cousins — sadly enough — was at our grandfather’s funeral last August.

There, at the wake, one my cousins, referred to me as Skinny Minnie — in a good way. And she kept eying me suspiciously and mouthing: How did you get so skinny?

Well, that was 10 months and probably close to 15 pounds ago.

This time she came up to me and said, “I would love to be as thin as you.”

I smiled, thanked her for the lovely compliment and then said. “It’s not that hard, but it is a daily chore.”

And, she smiled — though hers didn’t quite meet her eyes — and sighed. “But it requires a degree of self-discipline that I just don’t have.”

My gut level reaction, which often gets me into trouble, was: Then you don’t want it bad enough!

But, given that she had just lost her third grandparent in less than a year, I kept my mouth shut.

I’ve thought a lot about that exchange. I’ve thought about why it is that some people (myself included) have decided that it’s no longer acceptable to be overweight (often to an unhealthy degree), whereas others are willing to live with it even though they want to change. I’ve also realized that some people just don’t care. Even though they are heavy, if not morbidly obese, they are seemingly okay with their limited physical ability and (in some cases) their deteriorating health.

Essentially, our exchange reminded me that it’s not enough to simply want it. You have to want it bad enough to actually do something about it. My cousin wanted to weigh less, but she didn’t want to have to do anything to make it happen.

When I first started this leg of my weight release program — about three years ago, when I was 40 pounds heavier than I am now — someone (that is, Tony Robbins) gave me this piece of advice.

1. Set a real goal that is motivating. Don’t just say you want to lose 10 pounds, because that’s not compelling. Say you want to lose 20 pounds of fat so that you stop having knee problems.

2. Make it a must! This means that you make decisions regarding your health and fitness that are every bit as binding as the decisions that my cousin makes when running her business or raising her child. You have to convince yourself that if you don’t do it, then something disastrous is going to occur — that is, your physical equivalent of bankruptcy! For me, it was the fear of knee replacement and/or carrying that 40 pounds into my forties. For others, it may be the nightmare of hypertension or diabetes.

3. Take quick and decisive action. As soon as you define that clear and compelling goal, take immediate action! It could be something like joining a gym, calling a friend and telling them that you’re going to lose 30 pounds of fat come hell or high water, joining Weight Watchers, or starting a new exercise program. But do something immediately! Do anything! Don’t just make the goal and hope it will happen, because that’s not doing, that’s wishing!

It’s not enough to want it. You have to want it bad enough to actually do something about it. Hopefully, when my cousin’s ready — if she ever gets ready — she’ll set a goal, make it compelling, and do something about it. Because, truly, it’s the only thing that’s going to get you where you want to be.

Update:

Thanks to a dissent from a reader, it’s also occurred to me to add that you don’t have to want it.

It’s perfectly fine to like yourself the way you are. In fact, it’s probably the best way to go.

Not everyone needs to be thin; in fact, being thin or skinny (God forbid) was never a particular goal of mine. However, regardless of size, I do think that people should try their hardest to be as fit as possible given their own particular set of circumstances.

But the trip really was about lot more than that. It was nice to hang in my parents’ world for a while. And, equally important, they got to hang out in (or at least glimpse into) mine. Every morning I got up and exercised. Mostly long walks (ranging anywhere from an hour to an hour and half — or from 400 to 520 calories, depending on the temperature). But, on more than one occasion, my mother watched while I did K-bell Total Body Blast in her living room; my father, on the other hand, merely shook his head and headed outside.

I made them tabouli and salad. I hung with them. I hung with old friends. Mother and I went shopping, at malls as well as at garage scales. She didn’t say a word when I bought a pretty fitted pair of trousers for her to give me as a not only as a Christmas present, but as a fairly serious piece of leverage to see me through the summer and the fall holidays. She also didn’t say a word, other than it was nice, when I bought my first ever skimpy, spaghetti strap halter top. Well, she did ask if I’d ever really wear it!

From a diet/exercise perspective, it wasn’t that bad; in fact, it was actually quite good. Part of what made it so great is that my parents didn’t make any judgments whatsoever about what I ate. If I stuck to salad and shakes they were fine with it. When I ate close to 1/2 lb of brisket, they didn’t say anything either. They didn’t accuse me of being obsessive or compulsive or annoying when I passed on the wine and cheese at dinner. Nor did they accuse me of wrecking my diet when I had two martinis. In other words, they were great! Thanks guys! They also didn’t razz me about my appearance. They didn’t say that I needed to eat more or that I was too skinny, like they have done in the past. They also didn’t comment if they thought I was looking a little rounder around the edges than I’d been when I’d arrived. They were very accepting. And their acceptance made being there — being with them — being myself — that much easier.

In sum, I had a great time and I know just where I’ll be applying my free round trip ticket from United!