By Lynn Haraldson-Bering
In the latest issue of O, The Oprah Magazine, Martha Beck writes about the two ways she believes people live their lives: Either we gather everything in sight, just in case; or we trust that we’ll find what we need, just in time.
“Living in an abundant environment but operating on the assumption that good things are scarce leads to a host of dysfunctions that can be summed up in one word: excess. Most of us are living in some kind of excess; we work too much, eat too much, rack up debt buying too much stuff. Yet, driven by the unconscious, just-in-case assumption that ‘everything good is scarce,’ we just keep doing and accumulating more.”
I read this article while huffing and puffing on my exercise bike. Now while that sounds healthy, and physically it was, what was going on in my head was far from healthy, and this article was like a brick to my head.
I am the queen of anticipation and planning. A Ph.D. in “Prep and Prepare.” OK, maybe not a Ph.D., but I definitely subscribe to and live the notion that it is imperative in maintenance to plan meals and make exercise a priority. The problem is, I often anticipate and plan to excess, spurred by my deep-set fear of regain.
For instance, last Tuesday, my calendar was packed with appointments, and Wednesday I was needed in Pittsburgh to watch my granddaughter. The entire week before I worried and fussed over having to take two days off in a row from exercise. I kept thinking, I HAVE to do some kind of exercise. I CAN’T take two days off. I HAVE to find time to at least walk or lift weights or something. Must. Can’t. Have to. Must. Can’t. Have to.
I’ve been living in this regimented, worrisome way for years now, to the point of excess. Part of this thinking has grown out of my fear of advancing arthritis. I HAVE TO exercise today because tomorrow (or next week or next month or next year) I might not be able to. And when I won’t be able to, I’ll gain 170 pounds. Either/or. Black/white.
But unlike milk in the fridge, bodies don’t come with an expiration date. They do what they can in the moment, “just in time.” None of us know when or how our body will slow down or die. We can only do what’s best for it right now, as in today. Anticipating my body’s demise and forcing it to live in the future is probably why my arms ache today. What’s five more pounds and one more set on the barbell? I thought yesterday as I pushed myself past my limit. Challenging ourselves physically is great when we can do it. Going beyond our limit is just stupid. And what I did yesterday was stupid. I’m not calling myself stupid, but my decision was certainly not smart and I’m paying for it today, possibly forever.
The other area I often “prep and prepare” for too far in the future is food. Like milk in the fridge, some foods will expire quickly. I let my eyes do the shopping and buy too far ahead, which is not useful when it comes to fresh fruits and vegetables. I end up throwing away lettuce or cutting off soft spots on zucchini or “using up” tomatoes and once-fresh mushrooms for a sauce when they were meant for a salad. I want to train myself to be a “just-in-time” shopper, someone who is OK with what is available and not someone who hoards perishable items just because they’re there.
Here are the promises I made myself. In regard to exercise, I will strive to be less rigid in my planning and trust that my body will not all of a sudden fail. And if it does, I will trust that I have the tools and resources to deal with it. In regard to food, when I visit Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods next week, I will only buy what I can eat before it goes bad, no matter how good everything in the refrigerated section looks.
Next week, Grammy Lynn is needed on Tuesday and Wednesday. Two days in a row of little or no formal exercise. In “anticipation,” I’m going to meditate on Beck’s words: “The great news is that just one mental shift – focusing on the abundance of your environment – switches your psychological setting so that your life automatically improves in many areas you think are unrelated. This is essentially a leap from fear to faith; it’s not religious faith but the simple belief that we’ll probably be able to get what we need when we need it.”
She suggests three simple exercises to effect this shift:
1. List 10 times you thought that there wouldn’t be enough of something and you survived.
2. List 10 areas where you have too much, not too little.
3. List 20 – or 50 or 1,000 – wonderful things that entered your life just at the right time, with no effort on your part. Start with the little things (oxygen, sunlight, a song on the radio). You’ll soon think of bigger ones.
Claire has a stroller. I can take her for a walk. As long as there’s a floor beneath me, I can do crunches. If there are soup cans handy, I can do bicep curls. Exercise is not beyond my reach no matter where I am or what I’m doing. Leg lifts under my desk. A run up and down the stairs a few times. Eating a few less calories on the days I can’t formally sweat.
I have the tools. I have the resources. Mostly, I have the knowledge. Now it’s time to apply the faith.
