Stoppit

When I get home from work today, I will choose whether to have a beer to end my day.

If I have the beer, I will likely have some popcorn to go with it, and if I have the popcorn, I will likely turn on the TV while I eat it, and I will likely wake up in about an hour with a fuzzy, drooly head. My fuzzy, drooly head will likely mean I won't go for a walk today. If I don't go for a walk today, the dog will be restless tonight, which means I won't get a decent sleep, which means tomorrow is going to be a tougher day than it needs to be. So, I'm not going to have a beer. I want one. I really really do. But I'm not going to have one today. I have decided. Tomorrow when I get home, I will make another decision and it might be different.

Earlier today, when I ate 15 enormous gumdrops left over from Christmas, that, too, was a choice. I decided to eat them. I feel terrible right now and I want to barf, but I'm not going to blame my tummy ache on anything other than my terrible, delicious, sugary choice.

Every day is a choice. Every meal is choice, every cigarette, every workout, every time you change your sheets or yell at your kids, it's a decision. That's the difference, I think, between people who are happy and those who are not. The ownership of the decision. Happy people, even if they're doing things that are ruinous to their health and well being, generally tell me they have chosen their path with clear eyes. One of my girlfriends recently said, "I'm done with the gym. I'm not going any more." She seems pretty happy. She found an hour a day with which to do other things.

Another dear friend is in a bit of a pickle. I love her and I want her to be happy, but right now, she's not happy. What she is, is frantic and a bit scattered, not sleeping well, unsure of why she's doing what she's doing and equally unsure about what she can do to change her situation.

I wasn't sure what else to say about my lovely friend's predicament. I have listened and not judged and not held back my affection as she works through her situation, but she seemed stuck, so, as Marilla Cuthburt would say, I, '...put my oar in.'

Her face was blank for a second when I said to her, "You know, you could just stop. If you wanted to. It's not easy, but it can be done. You can just stop. Just decide. And stop."

Does it matter what her situation is? Alcohol, obesity, a bad job, a broken heart, spouse treating her badly? Nope, not really. Your behaviour is your choice. Your reaction is your choice. My reaching for the 20 disgusting, amazing gumdrops? A choice. I know where the garbage can is, and so do you. Of course there are consequences: 25 gumdrops = 1 tummy ache. Refusing to accept your circumstances = a whole bunch of other decisions, some scary, some exciting.

Weigh the consequences, make a choice. Tomorrow, you get to make it all over again.