Keeping Your Eye On The Ball

When I was a girl, learning to play softball, my Dad was my teacher. He would take me into our large back yard & begin with the basics.

I was an only child & was not allowed to cross the street until I was 12. Alas, all the neighborhood kids lived on the other side of the street. I was not able to learn from other kids since I had no access to them. Therefore, my Dad became my teacher.

Although I wasn't thrilled at the time, I now am extremely grateful for all of the wisdom that he shared with me. He would tell me, "Cheryl, you always have to keep your eye on the ball. If you do, you will be able to easily hit it." I always tried to do what my Dad told me to do because things always worked out when I did. I became a pretty good softball player. I always was able to hit the ball when we played in P.E. My friends couldn't figure out what my secret was. They, poor things, didn't have my Dad as a teacher.

What was even better for me was that Dad would notice times in my life when I was struggling with something & he would gently remind me, "Cheryl, I wonder if you've taken your eye off the ball...." Suddenly it would be clear in a very simple way exactly what I needed to do.

Dad never said anything to me about my weight issues. He had probably learned the hard way from my mom that that is one issue a man never brings up with a woman he loves - never, ever!! I wonder if anything would have gone differently if I had remembered to keep my eye on the ball in the food arena back then?

What would that look like? I read recently that Discipline (ugh! not an overeater's favorite word, right?) is about remembering what you really want....and behaving accordingly. So this has to do with being very clear with ourselves about what we really, really want. In the moment that an obsessional food thought strikes us, we might think that what we really want is a hot fudge sundae. But is that true? Is that what we really, really want? Or is there something deeper, something that goes beyond instant gratification that we want?

Let's look at the options: If we have that hot fudge sundae, the most delicously fun part is the anticipation. The actually eating of it may or may not be enjoyable. Often we stuff it down mindlessly without actually tasteing it, so we don't even know. We weren't there for the event. Our mind was elsewhere. But whether we enjoyed it or not, I can pretty well guarantee that the aftermath is bitter, indeed. The guilt sets in immediately. Once again, we have let ourselves down. We've shown ourselves how weak we are, etc., etc. The self-recrimination is painful and ugly.

What if we don't have that hot fudge sundae? Well, that all depends. It depends upon how we make that choice. Do we harshly & rigidly say to ourselves, "NO! You can't have that hot fudge sundae. Shame on you for even thinking of having it!" This sort of mean attitude causes us to either to have "poor me" thoughts which might end up in 2 hot fudge sundaes later or in rebellious thinking which might end up in at least 3 hot fudge sundaes later!!

Another way of making the choice to not have that hot fudge sundae comes from seriously considering the hot fudge sundae & at the same time remembering that what you really, really want. You might want to make healthy food choices that will make you feel good about yourself afterwards. You might remember that you want to be able to move around easily & fit into your clothing. You want to have the freedom to sit wherever you want without having to worry about whether you might get stuck in the chair, without having to worry about having to ask for a seat belt extender on the airplane. You want to have the freedom that comes from keeping your eye on the ball. You also want to continue to build a good, respectful relationship with yourself.

My Dad is gone now, but his message to me has taken on new meaning. I wake up in the morning, setting clear intentions for myself for the day ahead. I remind myself that I want to bring mindfulness into my moments whenever I am able. I always want to keep my eye on the ball of mindfulness, trying to make wise choices that will allow me to feel good about myself afterwards.