By Lori Welch Brown

Despite the fact that I’m not a fan of math, and I actively hate algebra, I spent an extraordinary amount of time counting in 2023. Counting calories, steps, workouts, minutes between meals, numbers of adult bevs, etc.

Around November, I decided I was done with counting. I mean, how much of one’s life is one supposed to spend quantifying, recording, and tracking? How is one supposed to live one’s life when one is busy accounting for one’s missteps or no steps or less than 10,000?

And let’s not forget the admonishing. All hail Almighty Queen of Berating Oneself. Too many helpings? Glutton! Not enough steps? Laggard! Jeans too tight? Loser, but not in a good way!

While counting and tracking might not sound like a fun time, it was helping to keep me on [insert drum roll here] track! Once I decided to forego all that pencil sharpening and tic marking, the wheels fell off the wagon and landed directly around my midsection.

Sigh.

Befittingly, the Queen of Berating Oneself landed a new gig as Queen of Let’s Eat, Drink, and Be Merry. Let’s eat the cookies—all the cookies. Let’s skip the workout and binge watch The Crown. Let’s polish off the bottle—it’s open, right?

If you’re going to do something, I say do it 100 percent. Go big or go home.

While that may sound like a lot more fun, it does present its own share of problems especially when one has a closet full of clothes, but only one pair of pants one can button and not without the aid of a handmaid of which, the last time I counted, there were none.

Another heavier sigh. (No pun intended).

This is my yin and my yang, and let’s just say it doesn’t bring me joy.

Given the state of the world, these bypass first world problems and go straight to “You’re in Your Own Head Too Much” problems and need to be forwarded immediately to “The Department of No One Cares But You So Stop Whining”. Good luck waiting on that response.

If you’re still reading, my point here (I do have one) is that maybe—if you’re like me—you spent a little too much time this past year judging yourself too harshly and/or not being kind enough to the person who is you. Oh—and way too much time in math class.

Maybe—just maybe—you tried really hard at some things and didn’t succeed. Maybe you decided to throw in the towel and say, “It doesn’t matter. Who cares?”

Well—you for one. You care. And, you matter.

So, maybe—if you’re like me—you could hatch a plan this year this finds some middle ground that lands somewhere between obsessive compulsive freak and not giving a rat’s patootie whilst tossing all your hard work into a dumpster fire.

Maybe you could find ways to be healthy and active that excite and engage you vs. having you fill out forms every day to track your every move, caloric intake, and bodily outtake. One may have tracked a bowel movement or two. No judging. One has one’s reasons.

Lucky for us that good ol’ Father (or Mother? Or Them?) Time has given us a blank slate with which to start anew. And, that is a beautiful thing, my friends. A brand new calendar, a fresh start, and a shiny outlook are game changers.

But, really we don’t need January 1 in order to leap into a new beginning. We get a new beginning every 24 hours. Every 24 hours we are granted a clean slate to start all over again. If we messed up and/or didn’t show up for ourselves. If we fell off the self-care wagon and ate an entire Costco-sized bag of kettle cooked potato chips and chased it with a bag of Chips Ahoy! cookies. We get a do over. We get to start fresh. We get to move forward and put our failures and omissions behind us and try again to do better, to be better. And, God willing, to be lighter.

Every day we have options and choices that can lead us to better (not best) versions of ourselves.

-We can set a new intention and reinforce our goal.

-We can start the clock again and reset our mental attitude.

-We can change our mindset from a negative one to a positive one.

-We can stop counting and start living.

-We can be present in our life more than being engrossed in our phone.

-We can stop taking pictures of our plates and start talking to people sitting across from us.

-We can participate in activities that make us happy and healthy vs. logging steps and tracking workouts that hold us accountable to our inner flog master.

I get it though. Sometimes the problem is that we have too many choices, too many goals.  All the decisions feel overwhelming. Heck—sometimes I get stuck on the OJ aisle—pulp? No pulp? Vitamin D? Calcium? Cold pressed? Organic? It makes me want to run over to the bakery and start binge eating muffins which definitely isn’t very self-caring of me.

Frankly, I think self-care has gone off the rails. Self-care has gone from letting women know it’s okay to carve out time for themselves into a billion dollar business with influencers trying to hawk me $350/oz moisturizer for my brown spots.

So, how about instead of practicing self-care (which you should totally carve out time for yourself after moisturizing), you practice kindness.  Kindness to yourself and others.

And mindfulness. Stop tracking and counting and start being mindful about how you’re spending your time and energy. Mindful about what you’re putting into your body (and perhaps what comes out. No judging—when it comes to your poo, you do you).

In other words, stop counting every moment and motion, and start making every moment count for yourself and with your loved ones. Life is short; make this moment a memory.

And those world problems? Perhaps if everyone practices just a little more kindness at home, we’ll create a new global variant and ignite a kindness pandemic. A girl’s gotta have goals.

Cheers to a year of peace, happiness, love, kindness, wellness, joy, mindfulness, and freedom—even if it’s from your fitness tracker.

About the Author: Lori is a local writer, painter and pet lover who loves to share her experiences and expertise with our readers. She has been penning a column for the OTC for over 25 years. Please follow Lori online on Medium for more missives like this.