One of the ways you know that emotionality has seeped too far into your head is when you find yourself exaggerating. Often, when we’re lashing out, we take a small version of the truth and stretch it ridiculously. If we don’t have such a truth to work with, we either invent one or attribute a motive that we have no way of knowing. We villainize.
All of us hear dozens of vicious encounters in our daily lives, wherein people jab, snark, and exaggerate about the people they are currently upset with. That’s not going to end as long as humans are walking around.
For example, I’ve always had a real problem with fundamentalists or extremists, especially religious ones. Regardless of where I was on the spectrum about the existence of god or the futility of interventionist prayer, I’ve had a stable attitude about the foundation of people’s beliefs.
Any dogma, doctrine, commandment, or rule can be created out of whole cloth. It often is. It’s part of the reason no two religions or denominations agree on everything. Often, the divergence is massive, leaving no recognizable overlap.
My derision has always fallen on those who would demand adherence or obedience to the imposition of their chosen religious beliefs.
I distrust rigid authoritarians about religion; they can’t be trusted to honor the line of observance.
But, in anger or exaggeration, I’ve been accused of having a horrible attitude toward Christians as a category. That’s ridiculous. As with most religions and denominations, the individual observing it has massive leeway in how they treat others against the backdrop of spirituality. Many use it compassionately and intelligently; others would burn the world to get agreement. It is the latter that pisses me off.
It’s a small thing, but one which, if repeated unfairly, can grow to discolor the true nature of how I look at Christians and others.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve noticed this sort of exaggeration in anger more frequently. It’s no great revelation, of course.
Secondly, I may be a person on other people’s lists. I admit that fully. We’re all villains in someone else’s eyes; accept it. Yes, it will feel hurtful.
Since I started seeing a counselor, I’ve probably become more annoying in a few ways. If you missed it in my previous posts, anytime you change, even if entirely for the better or positive reasons, people often don’t welcome the change. Change requires adaptation and often new boundaries. As the difference becomes more substantial, so too does the likelihood that someone will take issue – and probably not directly.
I keep a few of these printed in my wallet. Instead of getting frustrated again, I take one out and hand it to whoever is trying to trap me in a situation with the person on my L.I.T.S. List.
For most people, this opens up a conversation about my motivation. At its most simple, it lets the person know that I take issue with how the other person engages with me as a human being. If the person inquiring is a good person, I will take the time to explain. If not, I short-circuit the encounter as politely as possible.
It’s also possible that handing out these might get me in hot water. But let’s be honest, dealing with narcissists or unkind people often lands us in hot water through no fault of our own. I won’t put someone on my L.I.T.S. List unless I’ve been unsuccessful in getting them to stop mistreating me.
There will be situations in which nothing can be done. Even so, at least people will know that I’d prefer to minimize my exposure to the person in question.
I stole a walk from the afternoon, one born from a casual glance out my window. The trees behind the house bent and blew with surprising force. Though I sat with heavy legs and with no thought of an excursion, I found myself outside and walking within minutes. The wind howled in my headphones. As I walked along Friendship, I was reminded of how many school buses ran through this corridor in the afternoon. East Springdale, despite its limited number of arteries, has more schools than you would imagine. By the time I reached the long stretch that touches 412, I had realized I would have to consider going back. I looked across at the massive cemetery and the thousands of truncated stories buried there. Once past, I reluctantly turned and walked back. Looking up at the deep blue sky, I took a picture to capture the tenuous magic. Switching to music, I marched my way back, shrugging off the acres of reminders that afternoons like this are fleeting.
Because I had a delayed counseling session due to the excessive rain and flooding last week, I took a walk in South Fayetteville today. I listened to TED en Español. And because I didn’t know the area as well as I thought I did, I went a street too far. As a result, I walked an hour and a half instead of thirty minutes. The breeze and the unfamiliarity of the area made it glorious. I went past Baum Stadium, past the not-yet-completed “Marhsall Place,” as well as another complex whose name escaped me, both uncompleted. I witnessed several exciting events, including a lift operator lowering himself with a surprising weight of siding (even as an excited co-worker shouted at him in Spanish from below), a car speeding through a huge parking lot at 100 mph, passing within ten feet of me, and a man sitting in the abandoned Cobb complex (which I didn’t know existed) smoking pot. And another contractor who broke a 3rd or 4th-floor window with his hammer, presumably accidentally. He looked down at me as I waved. He laughed and waved back, shrugging his shoulders. I gave a man $20, and his smile and surprise were so tangible that I almost failed to keep my composure; his reaction was so genuine that I wondered if I had imagined it. A woman who probably didn’t know someone was approaching exited her car and put her pants on. I’m not sure what proceeded that. She nodded as I looked in her direction. I ate at Mr. Taco Loco, consuming a portion of pico de gallo so immense that I felt guilty for eroding their profit margin. And the counselor? She was so surprised I ordered and read the entire book she recommended. I set my next session earlier for next week, even as I wondered what I might miss by removing the ‘extra’ time between work and my session. While none of these events were momentous, they reminded me of the millions of encounters that comprise the sum of our days.
I’ve kept my hair very short for almost all of my adult life. That helps. I don’t have bad hair days as a result. “Bad face” days, perhaps.
I don’t use body wash, either, before you ask.
I despise lotion on my skin, though I will relent and use it a bit in exceptional circumstances. Not “Silence of The Lambs” scenarios, though. I’m eccentric but not crazy. Okay, I’m crazy but not a lunatic. Yet.
I even shave with regular bar soap and use no additional aftershaves, colognes, or other similar things.
I use cheap disposable razors. And not because they are cheap, but because now that I’m accustomed to them, the alleged ‘nicer’ ones cut me like Sarah Silverman at a roast. I keep some sort of beard mostly because I’m lazy. I shave my neck between 1-2 times a week.
Some of the above serve as a reminder that I’m a minimalist at heart.
I use antiperspirant and deodorant, of course, because I’d like to delay excessive body odor as much as possible. If I become more antisocial, I can always stop. That last part is supposed to be funny.
Having said that, I’ve discovered that a particular brand of fiber gummies gives me an INCREDIBLE amount of gas. I consumed a bottle of it a few months ago and attributed it to my healthier diet. This second round confirms my old suspicions: it’s definitely the fiber pills. My physical job helps disguise the aromatic and sonic symptoms. Mostly. My apologies to anyone paying the price of my gastrointestinal choices. Also, yes, I am aware that there are differences between types of fiber, as well as soluble and insoluble. It’s just this particular brand packs a wallop! I’m not mentioning it by name because I don’t want the trolls to pounce on me more than usual.
Sidenote: I’m amazed at how many people don’t eat enough fiber. It seems like something that only old people are concerned about, but probably should be on everyone’s radar. The joke is that it is largely to prevent constipation, but dietary fiber does so many other healthy things for your body.
For people interested in such things, you should search for “glucomannan” on the internet. I don’t have an opinion about it. I’m not supposed to say that, but I don’t. Several people have written to me to insist that I try it. I haven’t simply because I didn’t need anything other than healthy fiber – and I wanted to avoid supplements that I couldn’t sustain for the rest of my life.
It’s fun watching and reading people’s commentary and arguments for or against supplements, trends, diets, and health.
A few days ago, a TikToker commented on a health and fitness video, calling him an idiot. “Blah, blah, blah. Diets don’t work,” the commenter said, among other things. The poster replied, “Diets don’t work – and judging by your appearance, you don’t either.” Oof, that was harsh. Another commenter replied, “Diets don’t work. But neither doesn’t being unhappy or unhealthy. At least it is an effort, even if only 1 in 20 succeed.” I generally avoid perusing the comments. I’d rather have people post their own opinions and put themselves up for criticism and scrutiny. (Most won’t of course, in the same way that people won’t write anything themselves but will hold other’s feet to the fire when they choose to.)
Stay simple and stay healthy out there, whatever that means to each of you.
That includes your mental health, too, even if the circumstances you find yourself in are your fault.
A few people hit me over the head about the ‘no exercise’ component of my weight loss over the last few months.
Naturally, I never advocated a ‘no exercise’ mantra for myself – or others. What I said was, “No additional exercise,” as in no gym, no weights, no byzantine series of micro-exercises that I wasn’t already doing. Part of my system was to avoid doing anything that I might not be able to do for the rest of my life. Having a long history of yo-yo weight loss behind me, I knew this would be a critical component to still be under 175 in a year. Not that I planned on it, but I also developed an alternate plan to take into consideration additional weight if I were to surprise myself and start weight training. Muscle weighs a lot more on your body, but it also burns more calories. It’s folly to compare all body types and exercise components as equal where weight is involved.
In my case, my job is very physical: lifting, walking a lot, and a wide variety of motions.
It’s true that I walk for pleasure. Given that the majority of my weight loss happened when I was not walking for fun, it’s a moot point. When I set out on my weight loss journey, I was experiencing a new foot pain that sidelined me. I could still work, but it wasn’t comfortable. The same is true for the intermittent shoulder pain and back pain that has accumulated. Weight loss has largely reduced all those pains. I try to be grateful that I woke up before my back or knees worsened. It’s a certainty I was headed for something terrible had I not.
Given the warmer weather, I have been walking more. It’s been fun this year, especially since I’ve done a lot of urban walking and seeing the places around me with new eyes. I walked a lot last year, it’s true, but I walked around with 65 extra pounds saddling me. It’s a substantially different experience and at times I feel like I’m walking on clouds. The difference is that striking.
The science is clear: walking is ALMOST as good long-term as running. You can also walk in bursts throughout the day. Science also tells us that doing bursts of exercise cumulatively yields the same health benefits as walking in a single, longer bout. This is also true for other forms of exercise. It’s a shame that most of us are hoodwinked into believing that exercise must be a long session in an artificial setting.
You don’t have to set aside an artificial amount of time for exercise, much less travel to a gym to do so. If you’re creative and committed, you’ll get results, even if you do a series of exercise bouts during your day. If “gyming” works for you, do it. I’m just reminding people that there is another way, one that won’t rob you of your time.
Another thing that always gets stretched when I mention it is that people try to say that I believe that exercise isn’t important. I don’t. It is. What I said over and over is that exercise isn’t viable as the primary component of weight loss and weight maintenance. Exercise has a lot of benefits, socially, physically, and psychologically.
IF you can do so, you can maintain your weight solely by consuming fewer calories than you burn. It’s simple math.
I don’t recommend it. I recommend that you be active. Were my job not intensely physical, I’d have to incorporate other ways to stay active. If I had an office job, I would walk in increments throughout the day. I’d do pushups or resistance exercises. Working from home, I’d do step exercises, walk on a treadmill, or get an exercise bike if that helped my knees and back.
Speaking out of privilege, I know that many people can’t simply eat well and exercise. Economics and social issues affect a lot of people, as do medical issues that make being healthy or weigh less a lot more difficult. One of the knee-jerk reactions I get on the internet is that people insist that I’m talking to everyone, or that my generalizations are for everyone. They’re not.
For those who aren’t restricted by those issues, all that is missing is for you to open your mind a little and recognize that your attitude is a lot of the problem. You don’t ‘need’ a gym, a lot of equipment, or even an hour a few times a week. You need a commitment and a change upstairs. You can walk a few times a day, or ride an exercise bike, one suited for your conditioning. You can eat less, or at least learn new eating habits. You can confide in a friend or family member, in hopes that you can work with someone needing to make a change like you.
You can choose supplements, energy drinks, or any of the thousands of systems out there to help you lose weight. You don’t need any of them, though, not if a commitment gongs in your head. I’m living proof. If a system helps you, use it. While you’re figuring it out, follow the literature and simplify your efforts. You’ll probably see that you’re going to have to choose a path that you can sustain without spending a fortune or spending a lot of hours that you could otherwise live differently.
You can achieve a lot through incremental effort. A word a day. One snack less. Choosing things you love that are also better choices. All of them hinge on something changing in your head. Once that happens, excuses stop being nooses.
The mural project on the (house) on Holcomb street is coming along well. I’m envious! It’s going to be spectacular.
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As I walked back through Turnbow park in Downtown Springdale, a young man wearing a nondescript uniform stood by an access panel on the perimeter of the walkway and flowers. He fiddled with the controls. When he turned, he said, “Tell’em to move.” He repeated it, but only I could hear it as I walked past. About thirty feet ahead, two more workers stood near the grassy section opposite the bike and coffee shop. I couldn’t tell what the box was on the ground near the closest worker, but I deduced that they were supposed to be working in concert with the man I was passing. There were people on benches and at the tables, scattered around, eating and drinking. On beautiful days like today, it’s an ideal spot, especially before summer comes to cook heads exposed to the sun. Two older ladies were approaching the other two workers. I wish I had my phone up, as the camera app was open. As the man behind me said, “Tell-em to move!” a little more loudly, the sprinkler system they’d been adjusting whooshed to life, giving the two older ladies a quick startle. I turned, shrugged, and laughed as I nodded to the man adjusting the control panel. “Good job,” I told him.
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The mural across from the Chamber of Commerce is coming along well, too. Downtown has a lot of activities tomorrow, including square-to-square bike rides.
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I took a picture where Water street abuts George Park. I was facing what used to be the Layman’s block. It’s fascinating to stand in open urban spaces, especially where such space hasn’t existed for decades. The sun was phenomenally bright. It might not have been good to have opted to walk wearing all black.
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I walked around a few buildings that I haven’t in a long time; in part, this was because I try to avoid looking like a prowler when I criss-cross the urban landscape in the dark. As usual, I saw people, places, and things that were interesting.
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To my surprise, I got BEHIND the fence, somehow. As I’ve learned, though, if you look like you belong, well, you belong wherever you are.
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I took many other pictures. Because the sun was so bright and because I’m a terrible photographer, most resulted in dark (or overly whitish) blobs. One of the pictures I hoped would be great was of a woman who was staring at me in a strange way as I stood by one of the buildings. So, I snapped a picture of her and she sped off. I laughed.
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Watching him play the guitar made me REALLY want to learn to play. Not for my own sake, but so that I could teach him how to do it correctly.
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It’s not my idea, but I agree that the bomb squad should run away from every properly defused bomb. It’ll make great footage and give spectators something to laugh and talk about afterward.
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I am 100% certain that TikTokers are using my old lists of jokes and ideas for videos.I just watched another one using the idea of wearing a ski mask to bed at night to confuse would-be robbers.
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The problem with having a collection of sidewalk chalk is that everything easily becomes a canvas. Whether intended or not.
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I have a co-worker who is 60+. He’s in great shape. A few weeks ago, someone asked him to run the Hogeye Marathon with him. My co-worker ran EIGHTEEN miles on his first day of training. I asked him, “You do know that the race is ONLY 26+ miles, right?”
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The Hogeye Marathon passes through my neighborhood. On the other hand, it is no accident that even visitors are smart enough to RUN through East Springdale.
It’s difficult to explain to other people the sense of interest, curiosity, and intrigue that envelopes me when I’m presented with another opportunity to find someone’s father, mother, or long-lost friend. It’s a solitary sort of entertainment, one that both focuses my mind inward and outward.
Even when it doesn’t go well, the initial few hours of pursuit and detail make my mind blossom like bits of ignited gunpowder. It feels as close to how I imagine one’s mind should always feel as I can imagine. Tiredness and disinterest fade away into impossibilities when one’s mind is trapped and ignited like that.
I started the day like most others. An acquaintance told me he’d mentioned my love of family research to a friend of his. He handed me a slip of paper with scant details scribbled on it. I quickly put it into my wallet, not so I wouldn’t lose it, but rather so that I wouldn’t be tempted to take a quick look. Such ‘quick looks’ usually escalate into an immediate and profound interest that keeps me distracted.
Some of my best memories are ones encapsulated in a quest to help someone find someone or something dear to them. I’ve had a few failures, as well as a few that led me to bad news for the person wanting me to inquire. I was wildly successful a few times, even if the person I found didn’t want to be outed.
This afternoon, I started my quest to align my scattered skills sufficiently to invoke the magic and inexact science of educated guesses and deliberately go into doubtful deadends. Over the years, I’ve definitely discovered that my mistakes tend to yield impressive results. Even results that aren’t what I’m looking for sometimes. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been on the wrong path and realized that I found another way to find information; had I not made a mistake, I wouldn’t have learned.
I won’t lie, though. The payoff is a rush. Finding the proof, the person, the thing. That’s sublime. Like genealogy, it’s a skill I never imagined that I would find valuable.
I was on the phone with a total stranger a little bit ago. Our paths would have never crossed, and part of his family’s remarkable story would have remained a mystery to me. Thanks to him, I will learn more about history, geography, and human nature.
These stories accumulate in my heart and mind.
As for the stranger today, he inadvertently revealed a lot of truth about his life and family. Singular statements and admissions invariably contain unspoken truths. That’s always the case when someone is listening with interest and fascination. Some parts of his story sounded unlikely. Because they sounded unlikely, I knew they were true. There are parts of his story which could easily be the subject of a book or movie.
I shared a few things about my life, too, especially how DNA ripped away the facade of privacy and secrecy.
I already find myself writing fictionalized versions of all those lives in my head.
Mr. Taco Loco on MLK Blvd. has unlimited pico de gallo, indisputably one of the world’s most delicious and healthy foods, on their salsa bar. What witchcraft is this? As much as I love the Emma Street location in Springdale, I feel robbed that they don’t have my favorite food on their salsa bar. P.S. I had at least 22 over-piled condiment cups of pico de gallo for lunch. *No exaggeration, by the way.
I don’t eat the tortillas. I don’t count calories, but yes, I am aware of them. Those eight tortillas have more calories than everything else I ate for lunch. I came unprepared without PopChips today, so I ate some regular tortillas chips. Mr. Taco Loco has been a massive help with my efforts to be thin again.
I’m going to have to pressure Springdale to put pico de gallo on the salsa bar. Or charge me as a menu item. I don’t mind paying for healthy and/or good quality.
Because I was already being decadent, I went to Starbucks and had a double espresso, followed by a trip to Walgreens before my appointment. I bought a big chungus amount of chewing gum. For those who don’t know, I sometimes sit on the couch and eat a massive succession of chewing gum, flavor after flavor. Gum can be expensive, for those who don’t chew an inhuman quantity of the stuff.
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When I recorded this on my dash, the truck in front of me was going 10 mph, and that was okay with me. It was a beautiful sight, driving with the snow coming down furiously. That it’s April 20th makes it more sublime. By the way, that is a song by Banda Mas featuring Snoop Dogg. (“QUE MALDICIÓN” is the name of the song.)
The song is a good example of something that sounds somehow great when juxtaposed – but not great taken separately. I’ve been listening to more Tejano/Banda/Norteño lately. Yesterday, I actually discovered a song that Los Tigres Del Norte is in – and I loved it. (“Para Sacarte De Mi Vida”) Previously, this would have been something that I would probably have never said.
Listening to different styles of music I wouldn’t have previously given so much time to is in part due to my love of Spanish. But it also helps me to break the feedback loop in my head. That part is a part of my therapy: recognizing the loops and finding ways of concentrating elsewhere.
For those who don’t know anything about such music, here’s a start:
I had a talk therapy session today. I gave her my two weeks of notes and sleep data. It’s interesting. I doubt most people follow through on their ‘assignments’ so easily. For the most part, I’ve found that saying stupid things aloud, things that don’t sound so stupid in my head, really hit the gong when they come through my own ears. I only wish Morgan Freeman would do a narrative for me, so my stupidity would sound epic.
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The Chauvin Trial verdict is minutes away. Whatever happens, it is going to keep a lot of social media occupied for several days.
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Disputable & True Truisms By X:
Punishment & discomfort for honesty is one of the principal contributing factors for us learning to lie. A lot of what is in our hearts and heads is not neatly packaged. We opt for shimmer instead of clarity.
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“Got dandruff and some of it itches!” Definitely sounds different when said loudly. “Dirty malefactor!” has been supplanted as my favorite faux-curse.
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I think you could trick a lot more men into signing up for the Vaccine if you start spelling it Vaxine – and let men DM ‘her.’
People still look at me stupidly. I don’t blame them.
I’ve had several months to experiment with how I present my weight loss ‘secret.’ (Hint: it’s not a secret.)
I’m careful to avoid being evangelical. If people ask me, I tell them my opinion. It’s an easy pitfall to reach out. People aren’t ready until they’re ready. That’s true of almost everything. Being in counseling and looking at things from an outsider’s perspective has brought some insights. For those who inquire, it is possible for me to attempt to give them a slice of confidence.
At work, it’s been informative to interact with people who’ve known me for years, because they’ve known me as fat for most of that time. Some of them are holding their breath, waiting for me to put the weight back on. I don’t take it personally. Others are watching me, wondering how they might capture a bit of my genie in the bottle. It is the latter group who have the best chance, in part because they are not only interested, but optimistic about their changes. Optimism makes so many things more fulfilling and likely. If they see me doing it, it’s a powerful argument that they can do it, too. (If they want to.)
In the last couple of weeks, I’ve replied, “The secret is already inside you. It might be dormant or untapped – but it’s there.”
Obviously, people scoff. “If that were true, I’d already be doing it!” Most of them make ‘the’ face when they fire back at me.
“Yeah, well, until late last year, I scoffed too. And then a switch went off in my head. Look, everything I used to break the decades of yo-yo cycles was in my head. I didn’t add anything. No pills, no exercise, nothing. Something inside me flipped. For me, it wasn’t willpower. It was just a certainty. It’s that way with everyone who makes fundamental changes. Whether they are going to lose weight, run a marathon, break a habit, or learn a foreign language. So what if you fail nineteen times? The only effort that matters is the twentieth, isn’t it? You can’t run a marathon until you do it. You can shout in another language until you can. And you’re going to be overweight until you’re not.”
“Do I have superpowers? Do you think that someone like me has an insight other than what I’m telling you? Think of me as a placebo. If knowing I can do it convinces you that you can too, grab it and run. Stop questioning. Until you accept the fact that you are the probably the only reason you’re still overweight, you can’t see around the corner. And if you do manage to see the possibility that you can do it, pretty much nothing will stop you. Some people do have medical reasons that make it very hard, that much is true. But losing weight is totally a matter of eating less than you burn. If you can choose great tasting and healthier instead of some of the stuff you’re eating now, you’re going to lose weight. And if you commit to learning and experimenting, you won’t be stopped. I’m still experimenting now, over six months later.”
In general, people still look at me like I’m an idiot.
“You have to use small choices to your advantage. The point of doing anything like weight loss is to change your habits that will arc across your entire life. And hopefully get a bit of self-confidence when you do it. If you make incremental changes, you are going to get results. Do what you can but do it consistently. And if you fail, reset. Again, and again. If you find that people aren’t supportive, they are at least communicating your lack of value in their lives. The guy who takes off sprinting is going to get way ahead of you in a race, especially if you’re walking. But I guarantee that you can walk a lot longer than he can sprint. Weight loss is the same way.”
And that’s the gist of my most recent TED talks regarding weight.
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 