Recently, I’ve noticed that people have been commenting on how I look different from before. Some are genuinely worried about the changes in my facial appearance and profile. Additionally, an increasing number of people have expressed concerns about my face appearing somewhat sunken, likely due to the loss of fat in my face and neck. Still, my chest doesn’t share the same flatness though my waist line has dropped significantly. While I still have room to lose a few pounds, I’m uncertain about the extent, especially since I’m reintroducing higher-quality dairy, homemade whole-grain breads, and healthier locally-sourced meats into my diet.
People seem to assume that I’m following a strict diet or that I might have health issues. The reality, though, is that I’ve been educating myself about nutrition and making healthier food choices. Rather than focusing on portion control, I’ve been loading up on fruits and vegetables. When you fill your plate with well-prepared, delicious vegetables, it’s naturally difficult to consume excess calories because your stomach has its limits. While indulging in too many veggies might send you to the bathroom frequently, they won’t contribute to weight gain due to their high water and fiber content compared to carbohydrates and fats.
Despite the concerns voiced by others, I’ve never been happier in my life. My stomach feels full, and I experience fewer hunger pangs. I’ve managed to avoid regular sugar crashes and junk food cravings. Processed sugar doesn’t hold the same appeal for me anymore, and even fatty foods have lost their allure. When your stomach is satisfied and you’re aware of the harm they can cause, things like cake and cookies lose their satisfaction. Importantly, my mental health has significantly improved since I’m no longer on a rollercoaster of sugar-induced highs and subsequent crashes.
In my forties, gaining knowledge about the relationship between food and health has profoundly transformed both my perspective and my body. The positive effects I encounter on a daily basis far outweigh the initial challenges of making changes. Undoubtedly, my 40th year of life stands out as the most remarkable thus far, and I’m confident that the trajectory will continue to improve.
“It’s okay to smoke an occasional cigarette, especially if it’s a low-tar filtered cigarette, at an occasional social event.” ~ Not Said by the Surgeon General
There is this strong belief in American culture that success is about moderation, holding back and depriving one’s self. If one can only abstain from consuming or doing too much of a bad activity, they will be okay. It’s about willpower, holding your nose against the temptation. It is said, only the weak fall for bad habits.What bullcrap! Maybe the exception to this is with cigarettes and narcotics, they’re addictive, so willpower doesn’t apply, or so we are told.
The thing is that’s bullshit. Nobody has much willpower, and any willpower is quickly broken down by the passage of time. What people have is habits — automatic, largely thoughtless routines. Things people do, because they always do it that way. Defaults and automation matter far more then any willpower. It might take a conscience effort to get a program started in one’s life, but once it’s going, success is about automation not willpower.
If you don’t want temptation don’t include bad things at all in your life. You will give in to temptation. It’s a fact. But there is no temptation to overdo it if you don’t participate in the activity at all. Maybe that cigarette won’t kill you, but like so many bad habits, one can get you started on a bad habit for life. It’s not about moderation, but abstention and automatic habits.
I shut the brass desk lamp off in my office and left for the last time in my 30s … 🛋
I do really like that brass desk lamp in my office, it makes it feel like I’ve made it in my career. The private corner office is nice, but the brass desk lamp like the legislators have make it seem so classy. And then it was dark in my office, I hurried out to the bus stop and caught the express home for the last time in my 30s. I took tomorrow off to get my teeth cleaned and spend a few days and nights in the wilderness camping and skiing.
It seems weird to think come Monday, I’ll be back to work. Nothing will have changed, except that the little date on the calendar will say that I am officially in my forties. I will have left the ground, and lifted my way onwards to Mission Fifty. I’m already working little hacks into my life to get me towards the big fifty, saving a little more, trying to cut back a bit on food and waste in all parts of my life. And trying to enjoy life more — especially the little, inexpensive things close to home.
One thing I’ve realized over the past few weeks is that I am doing a lot of things right. I have made sound financial decisions, I have worked hard to get where I am now. Maybe things have taken longer then I would like, but good things happen when you act strategically. Taking your time to climb the mountain isn’t a bad thing if you get out and observe a lot of what is around you. In some ways, time has gone by so quickly, in other ways, it’s been painfully slow.
From wearing a lucky pair of socks, to following family traditions, rituals are embedded in our everyday lives.
Dimitris Xygalatas is an anthropologist and scientist at The University of Connecticut, and recently wrote Ritual: How Seemingly Senseless Acts Make Life Worth Living.
In his book, he explores our relationships with rituals, big and small, and the social, physical, and economic impacts they have on our lives.
"Rituals are central to virtually all of our social institutions. Think of a judge waving a gavel or a new president taking an oath of office," he writes. "They are held by militaries, governments and corporations, in initiation ceremonies, parades, and costly displays of commitment. They are used by athletes who always wear the same socks in important games, and by gamblers who kiss the dice or cling on to lucky charms when the stakes are high."
Dark before eight, the smell of corn silage in the air as the harvest moon rises. Labor Day Weekend and summer vacation is but a memory.
I often feel like the past summer was unfulfilling, lacking significant memories except for the trip to Pittstown Forest. With high gas prices and my aging truck, I reduced my outings. Work has been busy, and the tempting offer of the free Nature Bus to Thacher Park, offering a day for hiking and exploration, became hard to resist due to its flexible schedule. I’ve become such a frequent rider that people might assume I don’t even own a car, despite the fact that I can afford gas; my income exceeds that of three out of four Americans.
Simultaneously, I find myself increasingly pondering my future. What seemed clear a few years ago has become more uncertain as the future approaches. While I’m advancing in my career, I’m also saving and investing wisely while living frugally. It’s still surreal to acknowledge my title as Deputy Director and appreciate my spacious office. Even stranger is seeing my name and title listed online and in the agency phone book. In just over a month, I’ll mark 15 years with my company, not a lifetime but still a substantial amount of time. Looking ahead, twenty years doesn’t feel so distant. Although I might have reservations about certain aspects of my work, the financial progress I’m making towards a better future is undeniable. Simultaneously, I’ve been immersing myself in YouTube lectures on the topic of “Finding Purpose in Life.” There’s no shortage of motivational speakers out there. Time seems to be slipping away rapidly, seasons passing by quickly and feeling insignificant. On one hand, I wish time would speed up to bolster my investments and savings, but on the other hand, I’m reminded of the things I’ve lost to the passage of time. The passing of my first-grade teacher, Ms. Holockey, from 32 years ago saddened me. She lived a long life, having been in her sixties when she taught me in the elementary school basement.
My dream of owning land in a state that upholds my second amendment rights is still alive. I envision a place that balances conservation and responsible use of farmland and forests, free from what I perceive as overzealous environmentalism. A place where I can have controlled fires, exercise my right to bear arms without stringent permits, ride ATVs, and raise livestock. Pigs, goats, chickens, even cattle. The allure of a simple life in off-grid cabins and tiny homes remains strong. No television or wired internet—much like my current lifestyle but in a rural setting. I’m saving towards this future and diligently studying real estate listings. Perhaps soon, I’ll journey to a location like the Ozarks to explore the possibilities. However, I sometimes find homesteading groups and YouTube channels overly idealistic.
It’s as if I’m certain about my aspirations, armed with financial targets and a plan for the 2030s. I continue to excel at work, investing extra time and money, while cutting unnecessary expenses. Dreaming is undeniably more enjoyable than dealing with the realities of farming—like shoveling manure or managing waste. I’m conscious that farm life is tough and demanding, not the same as the chores I did as a child. While I appreciate meat, butchering is a challenging and messy task. However, by doing it at home, I can avoid contributing to landfills or releasing toxic fumes from burning packaging. I sometimes envy those who lead genuine homesteading lives, dealing with the mud, maintaining trailers and sheds, and fashioning makeshift solar setups.
Tomorrow’s certainty is uncertain. Yet, dreams are free, and the foundation we build today opens doors for the future. The things we buy today are fleeting, but dreams endure, and investments grow. Amidst the changes in the world and the fading of the past, I hold onto hope and a strong chance of a better tomorrow. While I’m disheartened by the shifts happening around us, I acknowledge the potential for positive change.
