Don’t Skip The Treat

No matter your secret indulgence, ice cream, Snickers bar, Hot Cheetos or Chex Mix, your pick-me-up treat is important to sustaining the circle of accomplishment. 

Entering the brisk, winter months can suck the spirit right out of you. The grass turns brown, the leaves drift away, and the last minute errand takes longer to bundle up for than the actual task at hand. You pump the B vitamins, you plug in the salt lamp, and you schedule intentional grounding time or whatever that looks like in the middle of December. Unfortunately, all those efforts can still create a loss or a sense of discouragement. My advice: don’t skip the treat. 

Take it from your legendary cheap freak, go splurge on that mid afternoon pick me up. Recently, I was delighted with some daunting tasks. You might think that sentence is a bit of an oxymoron but delighted is exactly how I felt. I was honored to be in the frantic position because I perceive busy as a sign of success. Holding hands with a busy agenda blends a hope of brighter days ahead, especially once you get that to-do list done. With my mind running amuck and my daily responsibilities getting longer, I promised myself, “finish this large task and go get the Boba tea.” I promised. For a person who makes the other party kiss their pinky on a solemn swear, I’m extremely poor at keeping promises to myself. Start eating a healthy breakfast besides Hot Cheetos. Maybe tomorrow. Plan 20 minutes for yoga to clear your mind and stretch your soul. Too lazy. Go get the treat. Absolutely not. Sometimes, I feel our biggest challenge is ourselves and that’s when Wendy Wu: Homecoming Warrior should start to kick in. 

It’s easy to stay at home and snuggle into a blanket. The challenge is actually moving. I feel it’s synonymous to neglect our bodies of a sweet treat as it is to neglect our mind of boundaries. Self worth being at the heart of it all. If you don’t celebrate your soft wins, it’s harder to achieve the big ones. Think of a toddler for instance. We record every milestone, first coo, first walk, first word. With each small step (literally), we encourage the next one. Adults should be the same way. We may not sit on the floor and entice each other to step our way, but we could take a note from a dog acting like a good boy and retrieving his “smells like bacon” treat. As adults, we don’t appreciate the current win, because we are anticipating the next. The pressure to climb some metaphoric ladder can be heavy, but the most important part of a climb is your careful and clear next step. 

Take the breath. Look up. Submit the PTO. Don’t skip the treat.