Life lessons from dogs

My golden retriever, Kaia, has been an integral part of my life for 13 years now.  Kaia has given me unconditional love, exercise, frustration, peace and so many moments of pure joy.  Like me,  she has lots of grey fur/hair now.  Unlike me, she is not vain enough to use hair coloring. She has also taught me huge life lessons about living and rebelling.  Living life to its fullest and rebelling against the stuff that makes me act and think like a stick in the mud (although Kaia is rather fond of those.)

Simplicity.  Dogs remind me to keep it simple.  Throw the ball. Feed me. Rub my butt. Take a walk.   I can easily make things too complex.  Analyze everything to death. Create complex stories about my life.    But when I go for the essence, when I bask in simplicity -- that's when I experience happiness.

Sensory. Dogs live in their senses. Smell, touch, sound, sight.  They have no words.  Dogs remind  me that words are only a part of the living. I need to find silence so I can listen and see.

Loyalty.  Kaia loves me.  Golden retrievers, as a breed, are known for their loyalty.  But I also understand that if you had a meaty steak bone in your hand,  Kaia would love you too. This doggy definition of loyalty helps me better understand relationships.  Some people are fickle and don't deserve loyalty.  Others, share a part of their soul that means you need to stand by them no matter what.

Play.  Goldens are also notorious for wanting to play.  Day or night.  Continuously. One ball throw is never, never enough. How often do I  forget that having fun is such an important part of being human? So Kaia makes me ask the question -- got play?

Cycling is Rebellious

I'm an avid cyclist, not to be confused with a biker. Cyclists ride bicycles --typically road bikes -- and are often seen  sporting tight padded spandex shorts and colorful biking jerseys. Bikers ride big Harley Davidson motorcycles, wear "colors" and leather jackets and often are members of 'biker clubs."  Bikers like the Hells Angels have always been seen as the archetypal rebels in this country. So you may ask what makes "cycling" rebellious.  For this rebel,  it is the ultimate expression of freedom. It is using my own physical strength to climb that big hill and then experiencing the exhilaration of speeding down the other side often as fast as 40 MPH. It's rebelling against a sedentary lifestyle, being outside for hours usually with likeminded friends away from our cars, computers and all the technology that constantly distracts us from the silence of our souls that can be felt riding along a country road.

Living an active lifestyle for me is health rebelling against sickness, life rebelling against death. Cycling happens to be one of my favorite ways to exercise and stay active. I've developed great friendships with my fellow cyclists, and we have had the opportunity to be involved in charity bike rides, letting me give back to my community and causes  I am passionate about.

Riding a road bike isn't for everyone. It can be dangerous sharing the roads with motor vehicles, and I know that many people just feel too exposed out there in traffic. For me, facing the fear head-on feels rebellious as well.

Whether or not cycling is for you, become active in a way that is fun and excites you.  It will awaken your "inner rebel" and  improve your life in ways that will amaze you.

Rebellion '16.....The Presidential Election Outcome

I was stunned by Donald Trump's victory and have been on an emotional roller coaster all week. I’m a politics junkie, have been since JFK was President. I’ve always been intrigued by elections, especially by the Presidential races. This year is very different and like many of us I’m distressed by the toxic tone and lack of civility that has taken hold of our country.

The race has a had quite a rebellious tone, a rallying cry against a corrupt system on both sides. Many people especially young millennials were embracing Bernie Sanders’ progressive message during the primary season. On the other side, the disenfranchised white working class along with many who were just fed up with the Republican “elite” got fired up by Trump’s nationalist message. As it turned out Hillary Clinton as the Democratic nominee became the symbol of the establishment that people are so angry with. Many progressives were  challenged to support her if for no other reason than to prevent a Trump presidency and too many just didn't show up to vote.

Now that the election is finally over, my intense election fatigue has become sheer exhaustion. I fear for our future and have concern over whether we can ever have bipartisan respectful and civil discourse again. Election-related stress is running rampant among supporters on both sides.

Perhaps instead of each side angrily trying to belittle and prove each other wrong, a true rebellion would be about coming to understand the opposing views on the issues and how to best solve the country’s problems.

The people have spoken, we need time to heal.  As a country we have always survived and hopefully will rise above the adversity. I remain very concerned, pray that the rancor will die down, we will become a kinder, more civil and respectful nation sooner than later.

Out Of Control?

I dreamt of a tidal wave, didn't get swept away but it was a wake-up call. As you can imagine, when you have vivid dreams like that you wake up pretty shaken. Upon analyzing my dream, I realized I've been bottling up lots of feelings and emotions. To me, the dream symbolizes that I have to get rid of old habits that are no longer serving me, before I really do get carried away by the tidal wave of life. Time to start in a new place. As any human on this planet, there are always overwhelming emotional issues that demand our attention.  We burn the candle at both ends and the middle.  Are you a chaos addict or an adrenaline junkie?  The problem is when it shows.  Revealing the unbalance when you are late for everything, unprepared, disorganized, and forgetful.  People need to take care of themselves. We need wise selfishness in all kinds of relationships. If you need time for yourself, you must take it or else you'll feel like a plant trying to grow in the driest soil. We must water and nurture ourselves. People need growth and stability.

On a positive note, a wake-up call like this is refreshing when you realize that you need to make brand new starts in certain places of your life and clear away old things. It's a renewal process.  Like a butterfly shedding its cocoon and flying, living free and happy.   Is it time for change? People view change to be a scary or intimidating thing. It's time to confront  and quiet down those overwhelming rough waters and have calm peaceful balance.  When those waves creep back up again, we can learn how to surf and enjoy them.  Instead of being terrified and disturbed by uncertainties, we can learn how to ride the waves out.

Never in My Lifetime

Never in my lifetime did I imagine:

• A Black President
• A Woman Candidate for President
• A Billionaire Reality Show Personality as President
• Legal Pot
• Gay Marriage

What is left for this Aging Rebel?

• Rebuild Our Cities
• Clean the Environment
• Give People the Right-to-Die
• Stop War
• End Poverty
• Protect Women

Lesson learned.  The impossible is possible when brave people stand up and are counted.  No matter what side you are on.

Is Everyone Really Doing Their Best?

There was a time when I had a bit of a chip on my shoulder, I felt as if everyone was out to get me, like the deck was stacked against me.  I released that chip because I decided to accept that everyone is doing the best they can. Frankly, it doesn’t really matter if they’re out to get me or not, or if they’re doing their best or not because that’s always going to be out of my control.  What is in my control is how I respond and that focus makes my life so much better.

Accepting that everyone is doing the best they can may seem a bit Pollyanna and that’s definitely not me.  It takes practice to cultivate this mindset and sometimes it’s really hard!

I love Brené Brown’s work and in her book Rising Strong, Her husband’s response to “Do you think everyone is doing the best they can?” is one of the best truths I’ve heard.  He explains, “All I know is that my life is better when I assume that people are doing their best. It keeps me out of judgment and lets me focus on what is, and not what should or could be.”

Eureka!   So, when we aren’t recognized at work for going above and beyond, it’s not a reflection on the quality of our work or our worth.  Our co-workers are doing the best they can and right now that doesn’t involve acknowledging us.  That doesn’t change our awesome skills or value.

When we’re in a hurry at the grocery store and the person ahead of us is unloading his cart at a snail’s pace and then decides to pay with a handwritten check, the universe is not against us and this person probably isn’t a jerk.  He’s doing the best he can at that moment and our judgment or anger isn’t going to make the line move faster, it’s only going to increase our stress response.

When we’re too exhausted to cook a homemade meal for ourselves or our families and we get takeout instead, it doesn’t mean we’re bad. The best we can do some days is takeout (hopefully healthy takeout!) and that’s okay, healthy or not.

Our self-criticism doesn’t change the situation; it only makes it harder for us to thrive.   Are you starting to get the point?  Our judgment and criticism negatively impact us more than anyone and there will be days when we need compassion from ourselves and others, so the more we practice the idea that everyone is doing their best, including us, the easier that compassion is to express.

Here are some ways I try to cultivate acceptance of everyone doing their best:

Pause and take a few deep breaths, especially when rushing or about to explode.

Be mindful, notice what’s really happening and give others the benefit of the doubt.

Tune into the internal dialogue, reframe negative thoughts with positive ones.

Say no when necessary and let go of any guilt around it.

I invite you to practice this acceptance, moment by moment and breath by breath and then notice how much you’re thriving.

Meg Burton Tudman

Health Coach and Yoga Instructor

www.MegBurtonTudman.com

A Drop Of Positivity

A drop of positivity could make all the difference in your day. Are you negatively assuming someone's thoughts and actions? Are you placing adverse tone on what your incoming texts and email?  Is something or someone driving you crazy? When things like this happen, people tend to  internalize their thoughts and feelings. The whole day shifts into a slump. You might even start making horrible food choices and before you know it, one thing leads to another and you are in a pool of gloom.

Get out of this rabbit hole!  You are responsible for you,  no one else.  You need to take control.  One way I unexpectedly found clarity was setting positive message alarms on my cell phone, daily reminders.  Periodically, my phone calendar dings and a self message reminds me to have a stress check, say something positive, or take a 5 min break.  Sometimes the messages come at the right time, when I need to reevaluate my head space.  It's a gentle self check in that keeps me on track. Sometimes, I'm already on track and that's the best feeling of all. When that happens I think about what else could I improve on. Always thinking in the right direction.

From this drop, I wish you a flood of positivity.

Practicing Love and Compassion is Rebellious

As I reflect on what it means to truly Live and Rebel I have come to realize that embracing Love and Compassion is the path to personal freedom as well as a means to help heal our hurting planet. In my rebellious youth, I believed my anger against the establishment would affect change in the world. I have come to learn that anger begets more anger, love and compassion beget more love and compassion. According to the Dalai Lama in his article entitled "Living the Compassionate Life": "The teachings of mindfulness and compassion typically lead to feelings of kindness and self -confidence. Positive action inevitably leads to inner strength. Greater inner strength leads to less fear and more self-confidence. With our inner strength, we have a far greater ability to extend our sense of caring across all cultural and religious barriers."  This will potentially bring much needed healing to a world  that is currently riddled with so much fear.

At every level of society, be it our families, nation or planet, the key to a happier and more successful world is growing our compassion. For me this speaks to Living as much or more than Rebelling. You may be asking how do we become more compassionate beings? For this rebel, it starts with becoming quiet, going into the silence with meditation and prayer. It’s doesn’t require that we become “religious” nor believe in any particular ideology. The development of our good human qualities, leads to the cultivation of individual happiness which can profoundly contribute to the overall improvement of the entire human family.

Autumn Musings About Living and Rebelling

As I drive  through the hills looking at the array of oranges, yellows, reds and browns, I feel so alive.  I imagine God painting the trees as a gift to us before the stark cold of winter.  The vibrancy of the colors is pure energy to my soul, and I am so grateful for another day on Planet Earth.  My heart literally feels like it will burst in wonder. And then the voice starts in my head.  "It's going to be winter soon. I hate the cold.  I wonder how many times I will get stuck in the snow.  Did I get the furnace checked?  I wonder why I haven't got a snow plowing contract yet.  I really wish I could go south.  I can feel the grey already. I really hate winter.  I am too damn old for this."

And it occurs to me that autumn epitomizes Live and Rebel for me. When I embrace the colors, I am living.  When I am rebelling about the future winter, I am not.

My quest is to enjoy the colors and find beauty in the new snow.

Carl Sandburg said it best in his poem, Autumn Movement. 

I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts. The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds. The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.

Our Rebel Instinct

As adults we are expected to conform, fit in to behavior patterns that society deems acceptable. In truth we all have an instinct to rebel, to stretch beyond the limits of our minds We intuitively know that deep within us lie the secrets of the universe, a vast and fabulous cosmos. A friction exists between our very fragile egos and a spiritual or cosmic perspective. We become increasingly restless, irritable and discontent living a conformist’s life and long for the mysteries of creation. Often we seek comfort self-medicating with drugs, alcohol, gambling, or countless other addictive behaviors.

For this rebel, I have struggled through most of my life with conformity. In my youth  I was a natural born rebel living on a commune in California (seen in attached photo). It was an era when so many of my generation were rebelling and needless to say it has been a huge challenge now for me to “grow up” just to fit in to society’s expectations.

I have learned to challenge the choices handed down by society’s institutions. It hasn’t been an easy journey and sometimes has been quite frustrating and often lonely. Yet I continue to grow, expand my self- awareness and desire to serve others as a means of transcending my ego and self-absorption.

Did your father encourage rebellion?

Dad has been gone for 16 years, and I miss him every day. He shaped me -- my passions, values and dreams. He also shaped me to be a rebel.

Curiosity Did Not Kill The Cat.  My Dad dropped out of school in eighth grade to work.  But I never saw him without a book in his hand.  He turned me onto Rex Stout mysteries;  loved encyclopedias and the William Durant history series; was an information junkie about health and diet way back in the 1950's; and learned everything he could about the stock market when he turned it into a second career in his 70's.

He was a book hoarder with an insatiable curiosity.  When he died, his library numbered in the tens of thousands, and he had read and reread them all.

Rebels are curious folks.

Never Remember A Birthday. My Dad never remembered birthdays or anniversaries. His daughters bought the cards and presents for my Mom and sometimes even forged his signature to keep peace in the house.  We used to get pretty ticked off at him for what we saw as callous behavior.

Here is the the real truth.  My Dad was a man who practiced constant acts of kindness. He just didn't do occasions. How he ran his business -- Harold Palokoff Fuel Delivery -- explains it all.

If someone needed heating oil, they got it even if they could not pay. When he closed down in 1970, he left almost a half million dollars in uncollected bills on the books because he would not let families freeze. Lots of people thought he was a softie and a fool.  But, to lots of people, he was a hero.

Don't Forget Where You Come From. My Dad was born in 1909, the son of Russian and Polish immigrants.  His dad was a hard-working junk dealer, traveling the roads of New York and Pennsylvania. And like many Jews and poor people, his family experienced harsh discrimination.

Here are some other parts of his story. While he was a teenager, the corner grocery kept his family and neighbors from starving during the Depression. At age 33, my Dad enlisted to fight in World War II even though he was exempt because of his age, being an only son and running an essential business.

He never ever forgot where he came from and that extended to his customers -- most were immigrants or minorities.  He loved their diversity and saw them as part of his family. He was invited to their weddings, funerals and kitchen tables.

Most importantly, he deeply deeply loved America and truly saw it as the land of opportunity.

I am my father's daughter.  My roots ground me. My clients are my family.  And I believe deeply that I live in the best country on earth that is filled with boundless opportunity.

How to use The Four Agreements to transform your life

Several years ago Jordan said: "Ma, I want you to read a book --  The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom by Don Miguel Ruiz." Just so you are clear.  I'm not one for self-help books, and I also run from anything that seems a bit "woo woo," which is my sophisticated term for New Age.  But I have a deep respect for Jordan,  the son-of-my-heart whose story I will tell you sometime.   So when he asked, I acted.

The book has had a profound  and ongoing effect on my life.  Time spent with Don Miguel has been amazing (pictured above with me three years ago at a retreat in Mexico). The Ruiz family, including brothers Don Miguel Ruiz Jr.  and Don Jose Ruiz, are masters of the Toltec way of life, and they have shared their wisdom with millions of people globally.

On a deeper level, I consider Don Miguel Ruiz Jr. a dear friend and my teacher. His first book, The Five Levels of Attachment, is extraordinary, and I am very excited about his latest book , The Mastery of Self. 

To put it simply,  these men have transformed my life.  And while I am not surprised on the personal level,  the fundamental improvements to my work professionally as both a marketer and entrepreneur have been unexpected.

So here's how The Four Agreements has made me a better marketer:

Be Impeccable with Your Word. I love words both written and verbal.  I am a talker (just ask those around me) and a writer.  Maybe because words have always come so easy for me,  I did not quite understand their power. So I have sometimes been careless with language.

But the first agreement asks us to "Be Impeccable with Your Word."  That means that you create your world -- and the agreements that rule it -- through how you speak to yourself and others.  So be impeccable.  Say what you really mean.  Seek truth.

Don't Take Anything Personally.  You got to be kidding?  I am a short, fat, three-time married, opinionated, aging Jewish woman.  I take everything personally.

Actually, not anymore.  Now, I walk around with a mantra in my head:  "Your story. My story. Your story. My story."

The second agreement "Don't Take Anything Personally" explains that my reality is simply my reality.  I am the main character in my story, so if I take what others say personally I am letting them define me,  which is impossible and actually disrespectful to them.

There is true freedom when you stop taking things personally.

Don't Make Assumptions.  For many years, I acted as if mind-reading was one of my superpowers. I knew what you were thinking even before you knew it.  I walked around making "assumptions," and, yes, I did act like the first three letters of the word.

Then I began to see that the only story I know, the only person I know and the only world I know is my own.  And even that knowledge is quite cloudy.  So how can I possibly read minds?

That means if I want to understand something, I can only do one thing -- ask.   Ask someone about what they need instead of assuming what they need? Ask someone what they are feeling instead of assuming what they are feeling?

Such a bold and different way of living my life! And so infinitely more pleasant.

Always Do Your Best.  I think of this as The Four Agreements' escape clause.   I tend toward perfectionism, and when I read the first three agreements I was ready to give up. "Impossible," I thought.  "Only a saint or shaman could pull this off."  But then along came the fourth agreement, "Always Do Your Best," and I realized that I could do this.  I could actually acknowledge my humanity and understand that mistakes are just fine, as long as I learn and do my best.

Turning your "inner rebel" into an artist

Yesterday one of my fellow students at a watercolor workshop said she liked my paintings because they are childlike.   She meant it as a compliment.  I think she was being quite kind. After five days of trying to capture any likeness of a tree, I have to admit that I am a bit discouraged.  I can see it, feel it and almost taste it. But I can't paint it. Yet.

This is the second time I have attended a workshop taught by artist David Beale. He is a wonderful teacher, and the days spent painting with him and his students in Ireland and the low country of Georgia have been rich in learning and comradery.

Learning how to watercolor is an act of defiance for me.  I have always admired art, but thought I could not do it.  I have had to rebel against my belief: "I am not an artist" and embrace a new belief:  "I love to paint."

And because I am channeling my "inner rebel" I am seeing the world in a very different way and, more importantly,  opening myself up to joy.

New Eyes. I see shapes instead of objects.  I notice dozens of shades of green.  I explore shadows and the contrast between light and dark. It's like I have a new set of eyes, and it's very, very cool. Painting makes me really look at trees, oceans and grass, and it has deepened this urban girl's interaction with nature.

Overworking.  One of my fellow students, Marian, is a fun and feisty 80-year-old woman. Last night she walked onto our porch overlooking the soothing marshes that make up Eagle Island. "I am the Queen of Overworking," she declared after spending several hours on her painting of a live oak. Overworking is when you don't let the watercolors do their thing. You try to get it just right by adding and changing and adding and changing until it starts looking like, well, mud.

Watercolors thrive on looseness where you let the water, color and paper play with you, the artist.  Too much control, and the painting ceases to be fresh. Hmmm, life lesson.

Learn. Marian rules when it comes to her craft.  Her live oak is alive with the soft movement of Spanish moss.  Her trees really do look like trees.  Her grass and bushes invite you to ramble along the countryside.

She knows her yellow ochre and phthalo blue. She talks lovingly about her brushes.  She experiments with mixing so her pallette bursts with colors.  And she gently suggests that I not use black or white from the tube because "nothing really is black or white."

She is a wise woman who learns every time she paints.

I am trying to become a wise woman, learning slowing from everything I do.  Even painting.

How having sons can enhance your career

I am a marketer. Having sons has made me look at life in different ways and rebel against some of my thinking.  It has also made me much better at what I do. Expect the unexpected.  I have only sisters.  My mother had sisters. My father had sisters.  Then my sisters and I started pumping out boys.  I was totally unprepared to raise sons -- from the hosing during a diaper change  to the endless loudness and roughhousing that I always thought meant they were trying to kill each other (they were not.)  They truly were weird and exotic creatures to me. And they made me look at the world completely differently.

Here's the thing about being a marketer -- it works best when I discover the unexpected.  It may be a customer insight.  It may be a benefit to a product that was not originally planned. It may be spotting a trend.  The unexpected feeds the creative juices and can truly make a different in persuading people to buy a product or service.

Men and women are different. I can hear you scoffing: "She really didn't know that?!?"  Well, not really.  See, between having only sisters and coming of age in a generation intent on proving that women and men were equal, I didn't really believe that boys were innately different than girls.  So while my sons were raised progressively,  they totally preferred trucks, guns and action figures from the beginning.  They wouldn't have been caught dead in a dollhouse and had absolute distain for anything pink or frilly.  The big exceptions were Cabbage Patch kids and stuffed animals.

At the beginning of my career as a marketer,  we really didn't make much of a distinction between men and women. Geography, age, interests, attitude and purchasing patterns were the variables we tended to look at. But then we all started to wake up. Companies finally understood that women often think and act differently than men.  No longer was it enough for a car salesperson to include a wife in the conversation; cars started being directly marketed to women.  Now we enter an age where youth is pushing the boundaries to a no gender place.  What fun!

Emotional guys.  From my conversations with other mothers, I assumed that girls -- particularly teenagers -- would be emotional wrecks on a high wire while boys would be more collected and calm. Girls would wear their hearts on their sleeves; boys would be stoic.  Nope. My sons were emotional as kids and are still emotional as adults.  It's one of the reasons why they are such amazing fathers.  They don't try to hide joy or sadness all that much.  They have big, big hearts.

I think smart advertisers really get that emotion moves men just as much as women.  Budweiser. Microsoft. Jeep.  Just take a look at these Super Bowl commercials.

Do we need to show men weeping or bring them to tears? Nope.  I haven't seen my son Joe cry in 15 years.  But, when I see him playing with his daughter,  it is pure emotion.

The Best Friends Surprise Birthday Adventure

My best friend, Jan, and I take each other on surprise birthday adventures.  Twice a year, we celebrate our birthdays, and most importantly, a friendship that has flourished for almost 50 years.  It is our rebellion against the notion of "Oh, not another birthday!" The "rules" are pretty simple:

1. The birthday girl is completely treated.  All planning and expenses are covered by the birthday giver.
2. Destination and activities are a total surprise.  In fact, trickery is highly encouraged.  We're talking fake itineraries, unnecessary passports, blindfolds and bizarre clothing requests.
3. Embarrassment is encouraged. The official Birthday T-Shirts are worn;  flight attendants make announcements; and a tribe of Mohawk Indians actually sang "Happy Birthday" in their native tongue.

We've gone on a midnight nature walk in a Costa Rican jungle; volunteered at the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Utah; danced at the Newport Folk Fest, Lilith Fair and Pocono Blues Fest; stayed in an earthship in New Mexico and succumbed to alcohol and food-induced comas in Montreal and Miami.   And that's the short list.

Our shirts, which switch between us depending on whether it's July 26 (my birthday) or November 1(hers) engage strangers wherever we go with conversations of best friends, birthdays and surprises.

Here is what we have learned:

The Surprise Factor.  I can't tell you how cool it is to be surprised.  Surprise delights. It shakes things up and makes moments stand out.   And it is so natural.  Here's a factoid: Scientists at Emory and Baylor found changes in human brain activity that suggests that "people are designed to crave the unexpected.”

The Celebration Factor. The Surprise Birthday Adventure celebrates life. It is a reminder to both Jan and myself to be enormously grateful that we have each other and a life that permits us to indulge twice a year.

The Queen Factor. The Surprise Birthday Adventure is all about making the other person feel special.  Like a Queen.  For a few days each year,  one person is totally devoted to making the other person happy.  And what happens is that the giver ends up feeling as happy as the receiver.

I'd love to hear about your best friend and/or birthday celebrations.  Let's tell each other some stories.

Photos from top to bottom:  Jan and I at the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary; at our funky Airbnb house in Costa Rica;  drinking the ultimate frozen margarita in Miami Beach; and still smiling after indulging in poutine in Montreal.

So you don't want to go to the gym? Waaaaaahhhh....

Let's get some stuff out of the way.  I am fat.  I don't like exercise.  I have never participated in a sport (except an ill-fated stint as a goalie in field hockey during high school.) But I don't like the way I look or feel.  So I had to put a real plan into action.  I had to rebel against my notion of exercise.

It's working. I am sort of loving going to the gym.  Or as my gym,  Midtown Athletic Club, emphatically proclaims: "More club than gym."me.

Here's what I have learned from going to the gym (excuse me, club) :

Reward me. It's all about the steam room and hot tub. If I row for 45 minutes and do weights for another 15,  I get to go into the steam room or hot tub.  It's that simple.  I am a person who needs rewards to do things I don't want to do.  Longevity and healthy aging are too conceptual. I need immediate gratification.

People who look like me.  Previously, I thought that gyms were only for hard bodies, which I qualify for only in terms of my head, knees and toes.   At my gym, I get motivated by seeing the fit folks, but I get comforted seeing plump ones.  And I get hopeful seeing the older fit ones because it shows me the possibilities.

Fool me. My gym doesn't feel like a gym. Midtown has figured out a formula that has more appeal to a non-gym goer like me.    They promote a sense of community.  Lots of different programs -- many not related to fitness.  Kid's area which my grandchildren love. Good healthy restaurant.  Outside pool and bar.  A staff that is intensely focused on customer service.  Essentially, it makes the monthly fee (hefty) worth it.  More importantly,  I go.  And it is becoming an important part of my life and social routine which is exactly what I need to become a fitter person.

Sometimes, my inner rebel needs a little trickery.