I had a rough week.
Not the kind of rough week that results in a long list of things-gone-wrong and a sigh of "Girrrrl, I need to VENT!". Nothing tangible like that. My sighs sound more like ‘Well, you know, it’s one of THOSE weeks’: First word problems, chocolate cravings, untimely nostalgia, “I’m probably just under the weather.”
‘Merica is an acquired taste.
You know what happens when we assume something? Yep it makes an ___ out of you & me.
I’m sitting in an Intermediate Training for Improving Wraparound Practice in the ATL. One of our small group experiences were to put ourselves in roles of a family that are having relational issues between a wayward daughter. There are 10 small groups of 6-8 people who all made 4-5 assumptions about each role of the dad, mom, & daughter in the sample story. There’s a total of at least 40 assumptions as to what each of the three family members are thinking.
The next step was to create strategies based upon the assumed needs and start working with the family with specifics strategies. Strategies based upon assumptions. Does anyone else not see a problem with this scenario?
Now, to be fair, the presenter states we need to take the some 40 or so statements and break them down to 10-15 we can actually take to the family and then determine the true feelings of the family. I say that’s a step in the right direction, sort of.
I say “sort of” because I think there is a preconceived notion that is perhaps nowhere close to how the family feels about their true feelings/experiences. Perhaps all 15 of the statements are way off the mark. Perhaps. Did we just waste valuable time that could have been more beneficial for the entire family that could have been saved by not assuming things about the family that may or may not be true? Just a question worthy of consideration.
I’m learning that many times in life assumptions are made as reality when they very much may be incorrect. This is not a big deal until one takes into consideration that health care workers, social workers, police officers, education professionals, attorneys and a myriad of other workers operate on the principle of assumption.
There is a fine line between using assumptions to operate with and using assumptions to help lead you to the real story and then use that information to lead to an operational principle. The danger is using the assumptions as the operating principle.
As a supervisor I need to constantly warn my team members not to operate out of assumption. Always go back to the family to discover the truth and operate off of it.
So, where do you see assumptions made and operated on? And, further, how do you think they can change from operating out of assumptions and begin to operate instead within the realms of truth? Feel free to make examples in your comments.
I am a golf fan. I admit it. I actually enjoy turning on the tube and sitting back and watching round after round of golf! Yeah, I do have friends who can’t stand it and would rather be electrocuted. But, there is something relaxing and enjoyable about the game.
I love the amazing shot. That incredible “no way he’s gonna make it” putts that hit hole left and gravity does its thing. The “impossible” shots that make no sense…kind of like Bubba Watson’s 2012 Master’s shot from the woods that brought him to victory. Or magical Phil Michelson hitting a ball in “da beach” the opposite way and making it spin up. behind, and within 3 feet of the cup. I love seeing Tiger bounce the ball off his club face and then pounding it to forever after. I just love golf.
And I am a fan of the greats…Arnold Palmer, The Golden Bear Jack Nicklaus, Raymond Floyd, Seve Ballesteros…and the list goes on an on. Class guys all the way.
My dad taught me the game. I faked sick one day when I was in elementary school so dad was forced to watch me. Just to not allow it to impact the round he scheduled with some buddies, he took me with him to the course and let me hang out with him (I did say I faked the sickness, eh?). Dad gave me an old putter he had in his car and let me pound a ball all over the place. I didn’t know what the game was all about, but I remember this has gotta be the greatest game ever. Plus my hero was right there with me, so it took in me.
I soon found myself on the course, taking lessons from the local PGA pro, and coming to realize just how insane the game can make a man. For years, I valued a round by not losing more than 6 balls that day or not hitting it in the water. By the way, I want to invent a golf club that doubles as a fishing pole….I’m thinking it would be perfect for those days when the round is horrible, but you still have time to wet a line…ah, but I digress.
My dad taught me the rules of the game and the etiquette. I learned to respect guys on the tee by turning my radio down when driving by, or not talking loud when on the putting practice green. I learned by watching the greats play on TV just how one was supposed to respect the game and each other. Soon the game became more than just a game. It became life…a place to learn values, life principals, to make lifelong friends, and a place to get away from it all. Yes, I am a fan of golf (This says nothing about my golfing abilities as my son says there is absolutely no hope for me. ha!).
BUT, and that’s a big but, in recent years I’ve noticed a trend away from the respect and honor attributed to the game. Lately I’ve been very annoyed to hear screams of “We love you, Tiger!” to time perfectly to speak into a close-by mic, “Rocketballs”. What ever happened to allowing a man or woman to think through his/her shot, take the time to consider the options, draw out a club and hit the shot to the “ooh’s and ah’s” of the admirable crowd?
Now, please don’t get me wrong; I love the golf fan. I love their loyalty to their favorite player. I laugh at their taste in clothing and really love it when there is some kid and dad in the background wearing a tiger costume in support of the great Tiger Woods. But, the yelling, the drunkenness, the loud shouting right after a tee or a putt, this stuff has got to go.
My biggest questions are how did we get like this? What happened to the days gone by where people were of proper etiquette on the course? And, perhaps most importantly how are we going to teach the up and coming generation of this importance? I do give a shout out to the PGA pro who teaches all aspects of the game to kids. Or, organizations like First Tee teach principles of life learned from the game of golf. To these guys and gals, I give a huge thumbs-up. But, I am concerned for the future of golf. I ask all people to bring back the respect, rekindle the pride of being nice, and reunify on the course as a fan. Its time. Before its too late. Please.
It is 10:50 PM on March 26, 2013. I have just returned an hour-and-a-half ago from completing my 58th day of this 84-day Body for Life Challenge. I am breaking one of my goals just to post to my blog tonight (The goal was to get an average of 7-7.5 hours of sleep per night in addition to completing the 12 week challenge).
I feel pretty good. My dream of a body transformation has been slow. I know there are changes for the better because I can feel muscles under my skin where there was once only flab. But, I am a bit discouraged tonight. I still have another 26 days of all-out workouts to go, but my eating habits of better choices has plateaued the past week. Its been a struggle to maintain eating well (I cant be too hard on myself as I won a wrestling match between my will and the new me last night as I stared down a couple of Little Debbie Snack Cakes in our kitchen-it was a tough match, but I pinned the sucker and it stayed in the bin–Its still there). But, it is just something I don’t want to give in to.
I need to bite the bullet and head to the nutrition store and buy me some of the EAS Myoplex drink mix to be used after the grueling workouts. Of course, there are thousands of products to choose from and most taste like crap, but the Myoplex can be a learned taste.
Now, don’t get me wrong as I am still committed to the exercise portion of the challenge. I am not going to quit. I simply am not. I figure I’ll reach day 84 and celebrate a huge goal that started way back on December 31. But, I realize now that its going to have to be another round of 12 weeks before I start to feel and look the way I am dreaming. No problem. I can stomach that part.
Its the eating better part I need your thoughts and prayers. The cool thing is the plan actually incorporates a “free day” as far as food goes. Do well for 6 days and live it to the full on Day 7. Eat that ice cream, enjoy that greasy pizza. And get back onto the eating plan the next week without fail. Six days of eating right is the scary part. Six days, six meals a day, Breakfast post workout, a mid-morning high protein mid-morning snack, a good palm sized portion of meat and side of carbs and maybe some veggies on top. Drink water at each meal or make the commitment to guzzle the stuff as part of the morning and get it over with; A mid-afternoon Myoplex shake, a dinner of good choices, and a late night healthy snack. Six meals — that is hard to do. Much easier said than done. But doable.
The questions I struggle with and I’d enjoy your input: Do I just try to eat better on a consistent basis or do I go for the 6 meal route? Or should I just forgo the 6 meals and just be sensible those 6 days? I seem to become a legalist when I tell myself I need to eat a particular way. That is self-defeating and I focus more on the failures than I do the successes. I am just curious what you think.
Finally, I am going to log off and hit the hay. I’ve watched some YouTube videos of people working out hard on their BFL workouts…and I’ve been inspired. I have a lower leg workout in the morning and my motto through all this is “Go Hard or Go Home!” I’m not going home until I’ve conquered those blasted machines at that gym.
Talk to ya later!
A good poem is highly compressed in its language. You can’t skim through it and hope to get anything out of it. It’s the antithesis of most online reading, which provides more content, more links, more options… and less likelihood that you’ll read one thing slowly and thoughtfully.
Poets.org has a large collection of animated textflow poems, classic poems that are “animated” in the sense that the text appears a few words at a time, so that one line of the poem is broken into a stanza of just a word or two per line, and which fades away when complete.
As promised, I had said in an earlier article I would take the reader through some of my own thoughts about BFL (Body for Life Challenge). I started the BFL Challenge on 12/31/2012. I am currently on Week 8, Day 52 (Starts tommorrow morning around 6:00 with a vigorous upper body workout).
Note: You are going to need to get in on BFL right now just to be able to understand what it is and what the Challenge is really all about. For now, let me point you to this link, www.bodyforlife.com and tell you it will be well worth your time to research.
One of the first questions Bill Phillips asks of the reader in prepping ourselves for the Challenge is, “Have I made the decision to change? My simple answer is, “Yes!!” My desision to change comes after a life of failure physically speaking. Ah, no those plump days as an defensive and later offensive lineman were the good days as the weight had a reason for being – to drive the defender off the ball and out of the route of the running back. Those were indeed fun days, especially on those nights when I was able to overpower some unexpecting dweeb on the other team. Ah, the joy of hitting a guy so hard he saw stars is the most glorious emotion for the men in the trenches. But, I digress.
My senior year of high school, I continued to eat like I was on the team. But, actually the team was done at the last game of that 1982-83 year. I continued to eat like a beast but the workouts stopped. The bloating began and wouldnt stop for years down the road until living life as a College Sophomore. A mentor and good friend challenged me to lose some serious weight. He truly was a friend and his concern made sense and it motivated me to go for it. The next week I joined Weight Watchers and over the course of a year and a half lost 95 lbs in the process. It was a rather simple plan…eat right, record the meals, stop eating when I had correct protein, carbs, water intake, fat portions. And I started jogging for exercise. This would be the time I began training for 5K road races. I never intended to race to win (no way), but just to run to finish. And at least three different races I did just that.
And then came college graduation. I start my new job as a Juvenile Intensive Probation Officer. I looked good, felt fit. Proud of myself. But, as a young, immature, 25 year old Juvenile Probation Officer I found out that life didn’t allow for workouts and meal plans. I basically worked, and worked some more, and worked even more. And in a year’s time, most of the weight I had lost was back. Then, around the fall of 1990 I changed course in my life and attended the New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary for training for church ministry, specifically youth and college students. New Orleans is a tremendous city. One I still hold great fondness and love for in my hearrt. But, the city that care forgot did not forget how to eat! Man, could they eat. And man the food, the traditions, the Mardi Gras King Cakes, the life of a busy Master’s student became a toll on my life.
The only weight saver I had going for me at the time was that I worked as a Campus Police Officer at the time. Being a police officer in any place is high stress. Try being one in the city that care forgot. Do you know how people who think care has forgotten them act? Let’s put it this way, heathens might describe them. Wild, racous, animalistic. Seriously. And to prepare to be ready, I began working out again. Weights and running/jogging. It helped.
Then I graduated seminary. Woohoo! Do you want to know what it is like to leave police work and move into church work? More of the same, really. Sorry attitiudes, people who think its their way or the highway, people who laugh if they can make you sad. Mean, rude, obnoxious people. Some of them. There were those who were blessings. But, all in all, I felt like a prisoner of war. I ate to relieve myself. I’d stay up late watching late shows and eating as much as I could in the fridge. And I swelled to a lard.
Fast forward some 15 years…I find myself serving a ministry within a 30 minute drive of my parent’s home in Tennessee. This time I am married and have a young child. I am still working for a church. The struggle I described earlier is still continuing. Ups and downs of living as a minister in a conservative Southern Baptist Church. I’ve had it up to here (Go ahead and hold your hand up to your head and you’ll get the idea). These darn Baptists are doing what they do best – belittling their staff pastors. Make them look like fools while all along they were actually serving the Lord and serving the people of that church. And one sunny November morning, I up and left it all behind! I’m serious. I quit my job at the church with zero notice and moved on with my life.
Now, one year later I’ve come to the cross in the road of which future direction I am to choose; to the left a road of comfort and bliss; to the right a road of getting back what I’ve lost over the past 25 years of my life. It was the road less travelled throughout my life. This time I took the path to the right. The hard road. Part of the hard road is to become a new me. New physically, emotionally, mentally, and even spiritually. I am in the midst of some of these changes as I type these words.
This morning I completed Day 51, Week 8, Day 2 of the Challenge. I decided to make the change and I am right dab in the middle of the sucker today. My legs ache after a mind-blowing lower body workout and a 20 minute interval cardio workout on the machine born in hell (the Elliptical). Yes, I am ready for the change. I have made the decision. Aint nothing stopping me now. I am becoming a new man and loving every minute of it.
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