A few years ago, Sheila and I were at an art gallery opening when we saw a friend of hers who had lost a lot of weight. People were commenting on her new appearance and asking her what she was doing to lose the weight. 

“Tell me me everything you’re doing,” one person said.

Her answer?

Chemotherapy. 

This woman fielded many similar questions before she ultimately succumbed to ovarian cancer.

We make assumptions every day. And nowhere is that more apparent than when it comes to someone’s appearance. I read a similar story of a personal trainer who was judging another trainer at his gym because the other trainer didn’t look fit. That coach was experiencing weight gain as a side affect of his chemotherapy. 

Our culture is obsessed with weight. 

Obsessed. 

No. 

No. Just, no. 

There is merit to losing weight, as the process can be empowering and go a long way in promoting health and healthy habits. But making assumptions like the ones above only fuels the cultural obsession that skinny equals happy and overweight equals lazy. 

No.

I believe we can start changing the conversation. 

Last night I went to see the movie "Won't You Be My Neighbor?" about Mr. Rogers. (Despite earlier claim about assumptions, I'm going to assume that you know who Mr. Rogers is...) One of the lines he most often repeated in his show was this:

I like you exactly as you are. 

How powerful is that? 

I see people everyday that believe they have to change who they are and what they look like in order to be loved. I see clients who don't feel that they deserve to lose weight, deserve to be happy, or deserve basic love and kindness.

What if everyone believed that they don't have to change themselves to deserve kindness? 

I don't know what that would look like - but I certainly would like to find out. 

I'm not saying that we don't have to work on ourselves. We absolutely need to take care of ourselves and challenge ourselves to grow physically, spiritually, and emotionally. What I am saying, is that we don't need to be someone different to experience kindness.

I know that many of us wake up in the morning, step out of the shower, and pinch some part of our body that we don't like. I'm not immune from this. You'll rarely catch me in shorts these days because I'm not too fond of my varicose veins. I'm guilty of not feeling that I deserve love or kindness either. But I'm working on it. 

Let's shift the focus. Stop telling me what you need to lose, and tell me what you've gained. Tell me about your non-scale victories. 

Tell me about the hike you took that you couldn't do last year. 

Tell me the happy little moments you’ve experienced and they ways you celebrate your body. Tell me stories of who you are and the scars you've earned and the struggles you've used to make you the person you are today.

Tell me about you the person, not you the number. 

Let's change the world through kindness.

I'm in this with you for the long haul.
 

Growing up, I thought happiness was on the other side of a college diploma. 

In May of 1999, I walked down State Street in Erie, Pennsylvania in my cap and gown - college diploma in hand, wondering what I was going to do next. 

I'd like to say that I was happy in that moment, but I wasn't. Relieved, maybe, at reaching an end to the constant pressure that can be college. But I wasn't happy. I was wondering what would come next. 

In 2010, I set a personal goal of deadlifting 200 pounds. 

In 2011 I deadlifted 205. Then 225. I capped out at 280lbs. 

With each successful pull, I wanted more. Currently, my goal is 300 pounds. 

But when will I be happy? 

Most of us are taught in life that if work hard, we will be successful. That with the right job, the right partner, the right house, the right money, we will be happy. 

How many times per day do you find yourself saying "if I could just (lose five pounds, make 5k more, open a banana farm*) then I'd be happy?"

But what does the if/when equation do for us right now, in this current moment? 

Are you happy right now? 

A few weeks ago, Sheila and I were in San Diego and I indulged in a big ol' iced mocha from Starbucks with extra whipped cream. 

"Do you know what this is?" I asked Sheila, who was just trying to read her book.

"This," I said, pointing to my drink, "is happiness in a cup."

Sometimes I get carried away with Canva...for better or worse. But I think you get the gist.

She nodded and looked back to her book while I spent a few seconds drinking straight whipped cream through a straw. 

Beyond the occasional Starbucks drink with whipped cream though, I mostly kick my carrots on down the road, just like the rest of us. 

I'm happy when I snuggle with Rooney, or have dinner with Sheila, or lay on the floor with my niece and nephew and watch a movie. I'm happy when I Facetime my folks on Sunday mornings sometimes, though often in many of those moments I'm still thinking of all of the things I'd like to get done. 

I have continually pushed happiness forward. 

I’ll be happy when…

There is a carrot in front of us and then we get to it and chuck it further down the sidewalk. 

Here’s the thing - I work in a small business now and I understand one concept very clearly - if you’re not growing you’re dying. 

But I’ve also watched one too many clients push happiness further down the road. With weight loss, with fat loss, with miles run, with workouts put in. 

Stop it. 

I know the drill. We want to put happiness off until we *****

No.

You need to find happiness in the now. You need to find happiness and acceptance in where you are and who you are right now, in this very moment. Let yourself have the carrot. Sure you can create a bigger carrot to chuck on down the road for your next goal. But take a minute now and soak in who you are and what you’ve done now, today, in this moment. 

Celebrate you now. 

Don’t wait. 

You deserve to celebrate who you are right now, gosh darn it. 

So go do it. 

I'll wait.

Let me know how you celebrated. I'll be waiting to hear from you. 

We sat at Cafe 21 in the heart of San Diego’s Gaslamp district and watched the marathon finishers file past, one small group at a time.

I pushed my omelette around on my plate and sipped my coffee. 

“That was supposed to be me,” I said to Sheila, watching yet another gaggle of runners stroll past the sidewalk cafe. Some looked less beaten down by the miles and the California heat than others, but they all shared a similar expression.

Satisfaction. 

They all looked satisfied. I saw it in their faces, in the finishers medal around their necks, and the way they all seemed to carry the lightness of the day ahead. Whatever they did for the rest of the day, they’d be wearing the satisfaction of having completed a goal. 

“There’s always next year,” Sheila said, and I cringed. 

Next year.  

Those words are meant to comfort but they've always felt hollow to me. 

Next year. 

I pushed away from the table and leaned back in my chair, sipping my coffee.

I didn't run a marathon but I did see a few stellar sunsets. 

What’s the difference between giving up on something I’ve always wanted and letting go of something I’ve always wanted? 

Both of them are attitudes.  

But one of those attitudes is throwing in the towel. It’s a mindset that says I’m never going to do this, I’m never going to get there, I’m never going to achieve my goal. I’m never going to meet someone, I’m never going to have a job I like, I’m never going to have a body I can appreciate. 

Screw it. If what I’ve been pursuing is never going to happen, then why bother? 

So you quit. 

That’s giving up. 

Letting go - ah that’s more complicated, isn’t it? Because letting go is also a mindset and an attitude. But letting go is more about embracing the circumstances. Accepting your situation for what it is and making peace with yourself. 

Making peace with yourself. 

Letting go means trusting that you are enough as you are, right here in this moment, and that the pursuit of whatever goal you’re chasing does not define you. I don’t believe that pursuing a goal and embracing yourself as you are, right now in this moment - are separate from one another. 

I haven’t given up on the possibility of running a marathon. But I spent the better part of these past few days in San Diego trying to let go of my own expectations. I spent time on the beach, at a baseball game, reconnecting with my partner, of whom I’ve seen so very little lately. 

Had I come out here to run the marathon, we’d have had some time together. But the pace would have been different. Less exploring, less walking, less connecting. 

Yes, I still moped around a bit on Sunday - mostly out of the frustration that my body can't always do what I ask of it anymore. 

But, as we walked around  San Diego and I looked at the marathon signs and banners hanging in the streets I tried to shift my self-talk from "that should be me" and "why can't I stay healthy for anything" to "I'm grateful for this time away with my partner." 

I tried to shift the soundtrack. Sometimes that's enough.