How to Get the Most From a Strained Back

The 3-step MacRathian Plan--ACT--resulted from back strain caused by not lifting properly the night before.

Acceptance:



1) I needed to get as much rest as possible, time off from sitting before a computer for hours.
2) I needed to accept, chin up, responsibility for the injury.
3) I also needed to accept secondary causes: weight gain in Seattle (working late shifts in The Store, shelves loaded with junk food...and now sitting in an office, suffering from the nibbles)...slippage from religious workouts and stretching, etc.


Conversion:



I found myself faced with two choices--and a real sense of urgency,
1) Decision A: I could rest my back for a day, then return to work and my life as was.
2) Decision B: I could convert this into a mosaic in which the back strain was only one tile. Still other tesserae included physical issues that had troubled me for years--and which too, I was convinced, were food-related. After all, I'd whipped the same issues before when I was eating mostly raw...

The decision seemed a no-brainer: the chance to convert an injury into a golden mosaic of health and positivity. But I only had one day off work--and I knew all too well, from my own experience, how quickly the best intentions slide.

Luckily, the MacRathian Plan stumbled onto its third leg:



Transcendence:



If I worked with the tesserae in the right order and spirit, all the little bits and pieces could support each other--and the process could transcend discouragement and fear of defeat. Like this:
1) I called out from work this morning, then ate my last chocolate bar. (Goodbye, old friend--my love, my Dove!) Then, while I wrote for an hour, I enjoyed the only two decaf coffees I'll allow myself each day. (Theory: I believe the acid in coffee, even decaf, causes a craving for sweets to neutralize the acids.)
2) I decided to fast for one day, since I had ample time to rest and even go to bed early. Weight loss from previous 1-day fasts had always been 2-3 pounds. And the first day is the toughest.
3) I decided to set myself up properly for the return to work: I bought a fresh salad and made a custom snack pack: celery, carrot sticks and apples to nibble on all day.
4) I worked for two hours in the library, free of food temptation.
5) Next, I bought containers in which to store cut-up apples or other fruits/veggies.
6) I returned, for the first time in months, to Pike Place Market to shop for fruit and juicing ingredients.
7) Tonight, after finishing this blog, I'll stop off for a cup of tea and put some more time in on my
WIP's second draft.
8) I'll hit the sack by 7:00 to give my back 9 hours' more rest and to stay out of harm's way with evening food temptations.

Tile by tile, day by day, this golden mosaic will happen.

On Doing It Over and Over Again

(Not my own new place...not yet.)

One of the first things you learn moving into a studio apartment is the importance of habit. Correction: the imperative. For unless you get into the habit keeping the space clean and neat as you go, it'll turn into a wilderness of confused and angry wonderings: where the devil are my keys? where's my bus pass? who the hell took my flash drives and Altoids? Things tend to pile up quickly...then shift and slide to chaos. And the end result can be a weak sense of helpless despair.

I know: I faced exactly that with my one bedroom apartment in Charlotte. And it took me nearly half a year to sort, prune, organize...and take out a whole lot of trash. In this new smaller space, I knew, I'd be facing worse if I didn't start constructing some far better habits. Today.

As a man who's kicked booze and tobacco--and failed a few times with tobacco--I knew the importance of mindset and realistic thinking. Aristotle put it this way, 'We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence...is not an act but a habit." There's no succeeding at any life commitment in 3 days, 3 weeks or 3 months. And the effort must be not a battle but a daily chance to grow in strength and sense of purpose.

It helps to have clear, powerful vision. I saw an immaculate, spartanly furnished studio. And I saw just what I needed, placed where it belonged with a Zen-like respect for space.

Of immediate importance: staying organized and neat on a strict daily basis. Since I'm furnishing slowly, from scratch, I can't have everything at once: dresser, filing cabinets, desk...These will come. For now, I use cheap plastic modules from Target. One broad slate window sill supports my Stoker Award and a cover blowup of my third book, Mastery. On another I lay out the personal things I'll need for the next day: keys, wallet, etc.The kitchen counter top, just for now, holds one newspaper I haven't finished reading and a couple of pieces of mail, all very neatly arranged.

Nothing, nothing on the floor except what's meant to be there.

Garbage: taken out each day. Every scrap and stitch of it.

Used laundry: in the closet's special bag immediately after use.

Bathroom: spot-cleaned daily, toiletries neatly arranged.

I know, I know. It all sounds so banal. But the spiritual discipline involved is the very stuff of life--what Napoleon Hill once called Cosmic Habitforce.

Zen and the Art of Living in a Studio.