This morning I was feeling sluggish. Heavy. I've eaten way more bread, pasta, cookies, and cakes in the last two weeks than anyone deserves.
When I'm feeling this way I resist stepping on the scale. My commitment is to live at 190 +/- five pounds. The last time I checked two weeks ago it was an all-time high of 199. I don't ever want to see 200 so I simply stopped checking.
But this morning, something compelled me to step on to the scale and get ready for the inner barrage of criticism and justification. I didn't want to do it, but I knew I needed to. I needed to know that I had tipped 200. I needed to see the results of all those biscote. I needed to step on to the whipping post for some self-flagellation. Bad Vince.
So I stepped on. Wait. 192? Can't be. Step off. Step back on. 192. Huh.
So, the truth is, I feel sluggish, heavy, and simply bad for the way I have eaten my way through the last two weeks. But, the data shows that I am seven pounds lighter. What's is the truth?
Is this a trick question?
No. Because the truth is... I felt sluggish, heavy and bad. That's the truth. The FACT that I weigh seven pounds less than two weeks ago is really un-important. My emotional experience is my truth.
Now, the truth is also that when the scale said 192, my mood shifted. I smiled. I felt less sluggish.
What I am learning is that much of what we call "truth" are really "beliefs." Things we believe to be true. I was believing that I was heavier and my emotions followed with feelings of guilt and slothfulness. What changed?
Is there a nugget here?
