The Vitality of The Scale. Whaat?


This morning, Tuesday, I am getting dressed with the garment of habit (my one non-negotiable) and going to weigh myself with adult supervision! (Remember, it could be any sentient awake human. Pets do not qualify however sentient they may be.)

Yesterday, I read on my absolutely, positively- no I really, really mean it–totally favorite fountain of daily creativity anywhere, “Brian Pickings”  a quote from my equally adored poet, Mary Oliver.

The founder of Brain Pickings, Maria Popova,  Mary Oliver the poet, and Annie Lennox the singer, should simply get every humanitarian award on the planet.  They simply improve the world.

The subject was habit and rules.  Best for you to read the whole thing on the link but the take away for me is that habits can liberate your vitality, even dreams, rather than become simple tedium. She talks about natural rhythms that do not require free will that are observable every day.

“The bird in the forest or the fox on the hill has no such opportunity to forgo the important for the trivial. Habit, for these, is also the garment they wear, and indeed the very structure of their body life. It’s now or never for all their vitalities — bonding, nest building, raising a family, migrating or putting on the deeper coat of winter — all is done on time and with devoted care, even if events contain also playfulness, grace, and humor, those inseparable spirits of vitality. Neither does the tree hold back its leaves but lets them flow open or glide away when the time is right. Neither does water make its own decision about freezing or not; that moment rests with the rule of temperatures.”

I realized that this is how I feel about my non-negotiable. It simply liberates me to start another week with whatever vitality, humor, grace that I have within me and not waste time on woulda-coulda-shoulda's.

I think I'm actually look forward to it, now.

Yes, I just said that. Looking forward to getting on a scale. The scale I prefer is the one indispensable fitness device I own. All the others–step counting bracelets, pedometers– I buy and then stop using for one reason or another.  My scale is a Withings wireless scale connected to a fitness app that you can synch to your other devices if you wish.  It keeps track of daily weight and now has a + or – after each weigh-in to indicate what direction you are going.  This is the perfect GPS for me. It has nice graphics on the phone app to show the trending directions as well as the instant feedback from the scale display each morning.

The fact that I love a scale is, in and of itself, a miracle.

PS. If you buy one-or anything on Amazon for that matter–you can help support this blog by buying it through clicking this link below:

Habits & Commerce, hum on.


#1 Diet and Life Tip: One Non-Negotiable Focus No Matter What the Hell Happens.



The peanut butter is gone. True, there wasn't much left.  But, it's gone. 100% totally not there anymore. I didn't put it in the garage.  I ate it.

It's a new day.  I'm the one bird in focus in this photo. I'm not flying away or just standing there in a blur. I do one thing every week regardless of what happens. I weigh in on Tuesdays in front of another human being (they have to be awake, btw).

And, some weeks, I really, really, really don't want to.  And, this is one of them. Even six years into this, I still have this chatter in my head. It does not ever go away. Always chattering in my head as if there was a possibility that I could convince myself that not going was a good option.

The one non-negotiable trumps and silences the chatter eventually.  It's not a matter of “if” I'll go, I'm going.  I don't negotiate this issue, because, well, it's a bit like negotiating with a junkie, true I'm more Nurse Jackie kinda junkie but, if I'm honest, my default position is to fly away from reality or sit on the sidelines commenting and analyzing it.

So, I'm off to the YMCA to try and walk around an indoor track for as long as my legs will carry me.  But, if i'm honest, I'm only going to last a half hour tops.  There's no way I can walk off Mr. Peanut Butter.


Weather Food


It's snowing. Again. We are in the middle of a biblical sorta thing.  Not that I know anything about the bible, mind you, but this siege shall be one that everyone who has lived through it shall remember for the rest of their days.

I don't want to remember it as the siege of peanut butter as well.

It seems to call my name as I pass by the kitchen.

For breakfast, I had some peanut butter toast with a dollop of lemon curd on top. I'm now thinking of having a second piece.  But, then I remembered I had to write this and, well, sobered up.

The slippery slope begins with these small “what the hell” moments.

Peanut Butter calls me, “Pat”, by the way.  It may have to go live in the garage for this snowfall.  I'll let you know. It's beginning to whine. I hate when that happens.