Dateline: Seattle Hilton Branch Headquarters.    

Reasonable success is to be reported from the behind the lines attempt to approach a new experience with the Thinking Guidance System a bit ahead of Emotional Guidance System.  In other words, in the attempt to let the facts, rather than fears, direct behavior.

How many experiences have we not tried because we’ve made up scary barriers that do not exist?  Scary people who do not exist?  Who among us hasn’t approached an educational experience–like graduate school, for example–sure we are the only moron who slipped through the entrance requirements?  Personally, I always enjoyed the fantasy that brain surgeons were in a whole different category of brilliance from rest of us.  If someone is opening my skull, I wanted to think that person had something the rest of us didn’t….I especially wanted to believe their Emotional Guidance Systems never got the best of them.  Then I had to put out that marriage counselor shingle and shot the dickens out of that little fantasy. Oh well.

The ”Cruise People Fantasy,” is shared with the hope that the next time you are facing a new situation with new people, you can think of the Cruise People Fantasy and relax.

We were planning a cruise to celebrate our tenth anniversary.  That same summer the girls had a favorite retro show called “The Love Boat” featuring a cruise ship on which wonderful little romances happened. One evening we’re watching an episode which involved a gathering around the ship’s pool….and intermittently discussing what little tidbits we might need to add to our wardrobes before launching ourselves into the cruise people jet set.  The characters on the Love Boat were one hundred percent… women in bikinis and stilettos and men mostly preening in deck chairs with fancy cocktails siting on their  rock-hard abdomens.  Everyone had great hair and walked with grace. 

We studied the people around the Love Boat pool and concluded that investing in those expensive bathing suit covers was definitely called for.

Now picture what people on a cruise really look like.  Yep.  You got it.   We’re everyone of us…nuts.  Have a school reunion coming up?  Remember the Cruise People Fantasy and go forth.  And, don’t underestimate the value of a swimsuit cover.

I’m going in.

Teaching children with cerebral palsy to ride horses presented many challenges.  One I always remembered was when the child’s skills had advanced to the point she was ready to jump, I’d present the good news, then set a cross-bar.  Often my student would shrink back, saying she wasn’t ready, she was too afraid.  I’d insist, even urging the horse from behind if needed.  I’d explain…and this was a fact born of experience…that I’d push her forward even when she didn’t believe she was ready because I’d taught many students through this stage and… each and every one survived and was happy to have made it over that first jump, no matter how messy.

Now the truth was, in my head I’m thinking… “Take a jump on a horse chosen because he’s safe, a horse maybe not even awake?  You’ve got to be kidding!”  But I’d push, they’d limp over, and all ended up happy.

Often when I’m talking with someone in my office about working on managing anxiety, the picture comes back of the student rider on the ancient steed, and how I expected the rider to do what I didn’t have to do.

Thus, today…I’m going in behind the lines.  I’m going to knock the spider webs off my Thinking Guidance System and see if I can loosen up a self-defeating habit.

The Mission: Infiltrate a group of unknown people and function with an open heart and open mind.

To stretch…instead of allowing my (self protective) Emotional Guidance System’s warnings to run the show:  “You don’t have anything in common with these people.”  ”Just get in and out as quickly as possible, don’t obligate yourself or you will be sorry.”  And the biggee:  ”What if everyone there is a genius, is model thin, actually has spiffy coordinated outfits with scarves and big purses with designer buckles, drives a Bentley, has a house in the South of France, is a perfect wife who cooks and actually decorates her house instead of using the space to collect stuff from Mexico, is a great sister, a medal-winning mom, an acclaimed writer with a has a killer New York agent…What if?

Full Report to come.

“Do you know where the remote is?”

On the notion of finding (even welcoming) an opportunity to break the habit of  ‘push-pull’ power struggles over who is ‘right”… I can report two successes today, one mine and one my spouse’s.  And neither was easy.

Remember, acting out the need to be right is the body’s automatic self-defense (the Emotional Guidance System), the automatic action to rid ourselves of the anxiety that comes with not being seen as ‘right’.

The first occurred when a song came on the radio and my spouse said, “Who wrote that song, do you know?”

Sounds innocent, right?  Never.  If a person asks you a question like that, isn’t he obligated to accept my answer?… Well, apparently not. 

I said, “Hank Williams.”… He said, “No, I think it was Lefty Frizzell.”  (Okay, hold back on the disbelief and laughter on the age and music of reference.)  I say, “That’s not even possible because Hank Williams sang that song and he was dead before Lefty Frizzell started singing.” (I’m pretty smug at this point. And, by the way, I am RIGHT.)  He says, “No, I’m pretty sure you’re wrong on this one.”  (I know!  He’s the one who asked me!)… Now comes the big moment.  I felt the rise and fall of my chest, exasperated with the lack of cooperation of my listener….and then… I actually thought:  Hey, this is my chance!  Then I said, “I do think it was Hank Williams, but could be I’m not right on that.”

Yea!

A few minutes later, I was backing out of a tricky spot when my spouse said, “Come on back, you’re clear on this side.”  I said, “I don’t feel comfortable when I can’t see where I am.”  I pulled forward and repositioned.  “I’m telling you, you have plenty of room.  Why don’t you just trust me?” he asked.  I said, “It’s not that I don’t trust you, I’m just paranoid about this and I’d rather take it slow.  I know I probably overdo it, but that’s the way I’m comfortable.”  He says, “I don’t get you… (pause)… Then he said, “There’s no reason you have to back up my way.  I’m sorry.  I should just let you drive when you’re driving.”  He said this.  He really did. 

Doesn’t matter that I’m talking about two psychologists with years of training and experience.  This stuff is hard.

The Air Conditioning Controversy that Ended True Love

Our Emotional Guidance System is designed to rid us of anxiety.  Differences of opinion often, maybe even usually, generate anxiety.  Thus our Emotional Guidance Systemwill do whatever is necessary to obliterate differences of opinion.  The simplest method of disposing with differences of opinion is to insist on DUALISTIC thinking.  That is….Either I am right and you are wrong or….You are right and…naah…that’s unthinkable.

A woman was dating a fellow she really liked and he seemingly felt the same.  As they were leaving her house for their fifth date,

The lady paused and said, “Wait. I need to go back and turn up the air-conditioning.”

He said, “How high do you turn your air-conditioner up?”

She said, “I put it on eighty degrees.”

He said, “Eighty? Really?  I’ve heard that it’s actually harder on the system to turn it up that far, that it costs more to re-cool the house when you return, than if you’d just left the temperature down.”

She said, “That makes no sense at all.”

He said, “Well, actually, what I read was… etc.”

She said, “Ridiculous.  Do you believe everything you read?”

He said, “Ha.  Where are you getting your information?”

The rest isn’t hard to imagine.  The relationship ended without a fifth date.  Challenge:  To promote the development of the Thinking Guidance System, find at least one sticky situation today in which someone holds a different opinion, and allow the difference to ‘be’.  Strategy:  Have a freeing phrase handy such as, “That’s what makes for horseraces.”  Or, “That’s one of the things I like about working here, we’re not all alike on every issue.”  Or, “I guess none of us knows what we would really do if we were in someone else’s situation.”

Sometimes it helps to remember that each person has a right to their opinon.  I know, I don’t really buy it, either.  Secretly I believe that the only reason my spouse does not agree with me on absolutely everything is simply that I have not repeated myself often enough.  That one day, I’ll say, “You know, if you’d didn’t feed Crazy Dog from your plate, she’d be a more pleasant dinner companion.”  And, he’ll say, “Wow, you’re right.  I can’t believe I’ve been so thick-headed all these many years….Got any other ideas on how I can improve my life?” 

How can you ruin everything…before anything thing even happens?  What are the thoughts you use to prepare yourself for the day?

Dateline:  Jim’s Restaurant Local International World Headquarters

Event:  More shameless eavesdropping.  Remember the E-Harmony Lady…(See April 1…”Guts, the e-Harmony Lady”)…

E Harmony Lady is amazing because instead of allowing her Emotional Guidance System to clog up the highways of her life…even though her figure doesn’t fit the American ideal…she puts herself out there, day after day.  Had her Emotional Guidance System been in charge…terrifying her with images of what terrible things ‘could’ happen… slide shows of potential humiliations…no way she’d keep trying.  But e-Harmony lady listened to her Thinking Guidance System telling her just the facts:  “If you don’t put yourself out there and meet people, you have no chance of making a match or finding a new friend.” and “Nothing really horrible can happen.  You can always walk away. It’s not a disaster unless you decide to make it one.”

Now the other side of the human guidance network.  Today, e-Harmony lady isn’t in her booth behind me.  Instead two ladies between 40 and 50, one in a yellow polo shirt and the other in a denim jacket, are sharing lunch. 

Yellow Polo Shirt says:  “It’s June….I guess you know what that means.”

Demim Jacket:  “Your anniversary’s coming up?”

Yellow Polo Shirt:  “Our 31st, in two weeks.  And I can tell already he’s not going to do anything special.  He remembers, and he’s already avoiding me.”

DJ:  “He hasn’t said anything?”

YPS:  “Of course not.  If he did, then he’d know I’m noticing, which he does already, and he’s ignoring me.  Thirty-one years and he treats our marriage like it was nothing.”

DJ:  “That’s how men are.  No deep feelings.  Sometimes I think Ben is sorry he’s married.  He treats his dogs better than he treats me.”

YPS:  “I just know he’s going to act all surprised on the day of our anniversary.  The way he’s snaking around now…”

Alternate Strategy:  Take a stack of copy paper.  On each page write variations of:  “If you forget our anniversary [date], I shall be forced to sing “Delta Dawn” in the shower everyday for a year….I love you.”  Tape up notices all over the house. 

 

.

 

She leads with her Thinking Guidance System, making “If you don’t try, it will never happen–” which is a fact … while all the Emotional Guidance System is hawking fears and untruths.

Do you know what today is?    anniversary is coming.  i can tell he doesn’t remember….

Sign the size of a bumper sticker on the rear of a gigantic gravel truck:
“Do not come within 200 feet of vehicle. Not responsible for windshield cracks.”
…Did I mention you can only read this notice if you close in to 10 feet?

And… if you believe something to be true about a person…you will ’see’ it…you will prove that what you believe about him or her is true.  You will look for what you believe…what you fear…and you will find it.

The “Mean Farmers are Everywhere! Incident”

A man was out for an evening country drive when he had a flat tire.  On opening his trunk he discovered he had no jack to raise the car.  He’d seen no traffic, thus spotting the lights of a farmhouse in the distance, he struck out to ask for help.  After walking for a few minutes, the man started wondering about the people in the farmhouse.  What if they got mad at having their evening interrupted?  Maybe they were having supper and would feel like they had to interupt the pleasant meal just because a stranger was so careless he didn’t have a jack in his car?  What if they insisted he join them in supper?  He didn’t have time for supper, now they’d think he was rude.  What if they have a jack, but it’s out in the barn and they expect him to find it own his own?  What kind of people wouldn’t help a guy who just needed a jack?  Yes, but what kind of people would invite a stranger into their house?  What kind of person would expect him to find a jack in a barn?  It was pretty late.  They weren’t going to trust him to return the jack, that was for sure.  They’d say, “You didn’t have the sense to make sure you had your own jack. What kind of person is that foolish?”

About this time, the man reached the door of the farmhouse and knocked.  When the farmer answered, the man said, “Fine!  Just keep your damn jack!”

Other “Keep Your Damn Jack!” scenarios when the EMOTIONAL GUIDANCE SYSTEM … (FEAR AND ANXIETY)  is running the show:

The wife waits at the airport for her husband who is late picking her up.  While she waits, she rehearses worst case  possibilities based on her fears.   ”Well, thanks a lot,” she says, climbing in when he arrives, “I can see how important I am to you!”  (This before knowing why he was late.) … Alternate (Just a suggestion, this is hard) “Hi, sweetie. Don’t worry about being late.  I’m sure you had a good reason.”  (Lose interest in whether or not you are right. That’s a dead end.  We’re just going for what works… the facts about what works….by way of the THINKING GUIDANCE SYSTEM.)

A husband comes through the door with a dozen roses.  His wife is on the phone with her sister.  She smiles and shows excitement, but stays on the phone for another twenty minutes, then says, “These are gorgeous.  Thank-you!”  The husband shrugs and says, “Thank you doesn’t mean much to me now.”  …Alternate, (see above re: thinking running the show)… “I had to wait, honey, but you’re always worth it!”

What happens next after first responses?  After alternative responses?  Which outcome do you want?

If you believe you are not lovable, no one….absolutely no one…can convince you otherwise.  If you believe you are not lovable…you will not recognize love. 

Deciding to live “as if” you are lovable or “as if” you are not lovable… is something like deciding to live believing in an afterlife.  You have to go one way or the other.  There is no middle.

How’s your “Own Little World?” 

How great would your own little world be if you were suddenly Star-Trek-rematerialized as a child beggar along a filthy bridge where no prospects came along beyond a few street drunks, a tourist or two from small Pacific Islands where newspapers are scarce….and one dopey blond who ignores the truth about Mexico today because her mother, who died suddenly at forty-two, had, along with Dad, every summer, loaded up the peach-colored van, the blond, her sister, and brother…to spend summers in Colonial cities and Indian villiages, while Mom wrote her travel column on Mexico adventures with children?

How great would your little world be if you were on that bridge?

Dateline: Tijuana, Mexico.  Crossing the riverbed bridge. 

Incident:  The day is hot and windy.  Sand swirls on the bridge stinging those very few of us who still dared to cross the Big Brown Line.  The landscape is grim.  The future looks worse.  The police wear masks to keep the drug lords’ slaves from taking their pictures then going to their homes and murdering their families. 

My Own Little World’s a mess.  My feet are killing me.  What’s wrong with me that I just had to come across?  What was I thinking?  I mean, the armed forces have banned their personnel from crossing into Mexico… Why do I get myself in these ridiculous situations? I hear a siren, and whirl heading back to the USA at a trot.  My head down, charging for the border, I hear a wild squeaking sound and tiny high-pitched shreiking voice.

What?  I spot her.  A little girl, in full Tarahumara modest garb–full-length dress, hightop leather shoes, leggings, and a straw hat.  Maybe five, probably four.  She sits with her back braced on the inner wall of the bridge, her legs stuck out in front of her.  Her blue-black Indian hair squirts off her scalp in pert ponytails.  On her lap she holds a squeezebox.  Her eyes are closed but still she’s grinning big-time.  She’s singing a tune only she knows as loud as she can and clutching her squeezebox in and out with her happy screeching.  She’s having a good time in the middle of all this.  She’s singing her song as if the whole world and all the angels are listening.

How can she do that?    Who knows?   Exactly, I mean.  If there was a formula, if it were as easy as positive thinking, there’d be no exaggerated braking and hand-signalling on the freeway, no relentless dieting and gaining and useless machine buying, no avoiding high school reunions, no picking at the spouse when we know that action never turns out well, no criticizing at all since criticism is only anxiety shot outward and stuck on someone else.

Behind me, in the bar of my San Diego Hilton national world branch office I hear an ESPN story asking if a quarterback with too many interceptions had considered suicide . . . And I see that little girl’s estatic face.  Sure, she had a dirty paper cup between her ankles, hoping.  Sure, her shawled four foot mother was only a block away holding the cheap bead earrings she’d strung last night into the path of every hopeful.

Why this blog?  I want what that little girl with nothing had.  I want you to have it, too.

But ours will not be a journey for the weak or the crowd looking for easy answers.  Take that back.  For I’m certainly among the weak.  However I am determined.  There’s no easy formula for managing what goes on inside our chest cavity….no list of tricks to change our hearts and our energies…  Speaking for myself, of course.  Could be for you…being told to “get over it,” “think positive,” and “Dr. L. on the radio telling you to grow up and do what she–as a descended goddess of all that is ‘right’…maybe that  works for you.  Naaah….

You’ve read this far, so you’re trying along with me.  You’re trying to better understand and learn to manage anxiety. 

“Which is more important?  The world of facts, the world you can touch?  Or the world you are making up to fit your fears?  The world you are responding to?”

Come along….Next we take a look at how we’ve put our own little worlds together….

The goal?  To sing like the world and all the angels are listening.  Nothing less.  I will settle for nothing less.  Yes…I’m going crazy.  Care to join me?  The music’s terrific. 

Note: For those of you still wondering, I haven’t forgotten I still owe a Mexico confession of utter Emotional Guidance System idiocy. 

 

 

 

Small animals, with their short lives, remind us to live in the now. 

Head colds remind us to enjoy good days when we can breathe and our head doesn’t feel like it’s caught in a fan belt.

This human is “currently being serviced.” 

When a machine is broken at the gym, instead of a sign saying it’s broken, a placard is placed on the machine explaining, “This equipment is currently being serviced.”

The wording “is currently being serviced” takes into account that the inconvenience is temporary, that with time and tweaking, the equipment will return to regular duties.

Today is a Maintenance Day.   

A Maintenance Day is a day when you don’t try to “get any better” at anything.  When the best you can hope for is to keep from sliding backward…in your work, your relationships, in the journey toward your goals. 

A Maintenance Day is a day when every time you reach for an item, you knock something else over.

A Maintenance Day is a day when you turn corners, and bang your knees.

A Maintenance Day is a day when no good ideas are coming to the front of your brain.

A Maintenance Day is a day when you make a clever remark and realize you’ve hurt someone’s feelings.

A Maintenance Day is a day when the long-term goals you set for yourself mock you as impossible. “Who do you think you are?”

A Maintenance Day is a day when your Emotional Guidance System is running your show….you are taking everything personally….your refection in the mirror is a monster….you are throwing generalizing words—never, always, everyone, those (old, young, leftwing, rightwing, reality-television watchers, people who don’t like reality television, techno-geniuses, techno-duds,)…the guy who ran the yellow light, and the guy who honked when you ran the yellow light….

A Maintenance Day is a day when, first and foremost, you must be your very own very best friend and take care of yourself.  Breathe.  Cool air in, warm air out.  Remind yourself of the facts about you.  You are a hard worker. Most days you have good ideas.  Most days you can take a step toward that distant goal. Most days…but not today.

Today the goal is…to keep from sliding backwards.  To keep from turning everyone we meet into a target.  Sometimes we are the equipment “currently being serviced.”  

 

Triple Blame Whammy, Part 3, is for all the other people in your life who aren’t doing what they could to keep you on an even keel.

Sisters and brothers who consistently ‘make’ you uptight and are completely impregnable to your efforts to show them a better way to live.  And there are the friends you’ve tried to train…and also that sniggly therapist who isn’t buying into how you are the only person in your family who isn’t a complete wreck. 

Heck, I’m even including those people who cut in front of me.  (Okay, sometimes it’s the drivers ahead of me that let them in, but they are still slowing me down, they are still responsible for me gritting my teeth, still responsible for making me at least 20 seconds later getting home and that’s not fair!)  Coming off the freeway to reach our house, the road is two lanes.  Between the exit ramp and the main road heading to the hills, there are four stoplights.  Before the last light there are four signs indicating that only the right lane continues when the street breaks off to the right.  There are fifty foot fat painted arrows indicating the upcoming narrowing.  Any person looking out through the windshield can see that at the last light, the right lane, and only the right lanes peels off and continues through a yield.  I’m willing to wager that the majority of drivers in the five o’clock traffic drive the same route home every day.  Thus, the one lane only curving off to the right is no surprise. 

Yet, every day, a bunch of these people roar past the line of cars stacked up in the right lane –because we are kind, law-abiding, emotionally mature, just-plain-better-than-the-average people who can flippin read.  These people whizz past those of us in the stack–you know the rest.  They sit there in the left lane at the head of the line…and have the nerve to turn on their blinker, like, “Oh dear, I didn’t see this coming.”

As of this moment, I give those people the right to keep right on being themselves.  They no longer owe it to me to change.  I will find another way to deal with the extra 20 seconds I now choose to donate freely to my ride home. Now as for my siblings….

How much of our lives do we spend doing things we don’t want (or need) to do because we say, “Yes” when we meant “No?”   I’m not talking about the things we do that make us uncomfortable, but are the ” right” things, such as family activities or the temptation we humans have to want to give up when we “feel” defeated, and claim we didn’t really choose the goals we’ve set for ourselves.  I’m talking about all the many opportunities when we know our participation is not necessary, but we say ”Yes” to escape the anxiety arousedwith displeasing another person…who by definition…can do without our contribution. 

And, you are never safe.  Never.  When you least expect it, someone else.. whose super-powers are hidden under the disguise of a being a “helper” will recognize your weakness and pounce… taking control of your feelings and your life with the skill of the ’Body Snatchers’.  Helpers.  Yeah, right.  

One of these “helpers” attacked me minutes ago.  She forced me to carry items she knew I couldn’t manage, and almost got me killed in a car accident….Okay, maybe not killed, but I did veer over onto the shoulder at the height of the action.  Also, the scene on the front seat was prit-tee messy.

I believe it is my duty to warn you about this woman.  There I was, all gears running with my Best Thinking in charge, my Emotional Guidance System on the back burner, at about 9:45 PM in Dallas picking up supper at Eatzi’’s to take to my Dallas Hilton branch headquarters.  Okay, just  to cover my bases.  Just maybe… when I had them box up five huge shrimp ($39,99 a pound), my Emotional Guidance System had a bit of influence. 

Back to the Dragon Lady.  She appeared from nowhere, a small woman really.  She was just there in front of me as I exited with her chef’’s desert tray locked and loaded. The Body Snatcher disguised as a chef  offers me a giant chocolate-covered strawberry or perhaps, a whipped cream-loaded mini tart with a strawberry, blueberries and fresh pineapple.  I say, quite nicely and sincerly as I’m  not really big on sweets, and I had my sidesaddle loaded down with shrimp,  ”No, thanks.”  You’d think  a person could see I wasn’t in the market and move on, but she didn’t.  Which only makes the resulting shoulder-veering incident more obviously the responsibility of this demon-disguised-as-helper person. 

You see, she kept on with level two presure…guilt. ”If you don’t take them, we’ll just throw them away.”  What could I do?  I took not one but three, thinking, oh well, I’ll say “yes” to escape the immediate anxiey, then throw them in the trash on my way out.  Did I mention these treats were on flimsy lacy things….maybe what happened is the responsibility of whoever made those lacy doily things…

I head of Eatzi’s for the car balancing the shrimp, two kinds of sauce, a container of coleslaw and now three gooey treats not in containers.  I reach the first trash can….I look back.  The Dragon Lady isn’t watching, but there are several peolple sitting at the outdoor table who saw me accept the goodies.  No way I can throw them away now.  After all,  what kind of person will these Total Strangers  think I am?

Thus I climb in, settle the seafood shotgun and the treats on the dash, handy to throw out when I reach hotel across the street.  Which would have worked maybe,  if they hadn’t started to slide when a car pulled out in front  of me, and I had’t jerked the wheel in a  fruitless attempt atpreveningt the treats sliding onto the seat and the floor.

Who is responsible for this debacle?  Eatzi’s.  They shouldn’t make more items than they can sell each day.  The Dragon Lady.  She should have picked up on my “not a sweets person” vibe and left me alone.  The people sitting at the table outside .  If they hadn’t so obviosly been judging me, I could have rid myself of the problem.  The guy who pulled out of the drive onto the road.  Well, that’s just obvious.  He knew it was me and that I was in a precarious situation,  but decided to pull out in front of me to show his disrespect. 

Me?  Nada….  I’m a victim.  What’s that you say?….I had a choice?  That I could have said “No” and the chef lady would probably gotten over it? 

Oh.  I know I only gave two elements of the Triple Blame Whammy.  Three’s coming.

I haven’t forgotten the third leg of the Triple Blame Whammy….and I haven’t forgotten I owe you the truth about….Mexico.

I am in bad shape and it’s not my fault!  Time for a break in the hard work.   I was very, very wrong about that ‘taking responsibility for your feelings’ idea. I’m a mess and it’s not my fault.  My condition is the responsibility of a certain personal trainer….who tied me down, drugged me, and forced me to lift things. I’ve seen him working with other people and he’s definitely got serious problems.  Probably his father was a ruthless, cold man…and now I’m paying for it….I think the personal trainer shouldn’t have suggested I do another rep. In fact, I think maybe he’s a sadist.   Either that or I didn’t take charge, let my Emotional Guidance System decide my pace. 

Dateline:  Imaginary ‘hospital’ bed in home office.  Definition: my regular side of bed, but with every human need within reach. Which means it’s pretty crowded in here with my laptop, remote for the television, remote for the overhead fan, remote for the alternate DVR….chips, salsa, two Cokes, three glasses of ice, Exedrin, bottles, Crazy Dog, Crazy Dog’s pink monkey, her ‘baby’, her ‘jingle bell’ ball, her squeaky penguin, her purple hippo, the yardstick for scratching Crazy Dog when her snoring block out all other sounds…and a dozen pillows arranged to shield my joints and muscles from movement.  

 

Once more, instead of governing my life according to ‘best thinking’ and painful mountains of past experience…when caught in the HOVER ZONE...that place between the cookie that was just enough and all the others…the place where the light turns yellow, you know you should hit the brakes, and you hurry on through…the moments of indecision before you hit the ’snooze’ one time too many…for me, the hover place occurred at the gym between the moment my body screamed, “Stop! Sure, you’re impressing yourself and keeping up with your partner…but stop!  If you keep going you are going to pay. You’ve done this before, many times, always with the same result,”…and when I’d gritted my teeth and said, “Sure, no problem at all.”

Come to think of it, my husband was there.  Why didn’t he stop me?  I think my current state is his fault. 

The hover.  The Emotional Guidance System.  Without it none of us would be overweight r afraid or smoke or drink too much or even do too many reps because you (I) couldn’t say, “You gotta be kidding” to the twenty-year-old guy at the gym who made the suggestion….but these aches and pains are not all his fault.  I think the personal trainer gets forty percent responsibility, the husband gets forty percent, and that chick in the spandex shorts-bikini who trots from one machine to another gets ten percent responsibility.