It was no secret who the schoolyard bullies were when we grew up. We may even have vivid recollections of the tormentors who soured our lives, years ago. Today we may chuckle at the incident, if it was short-lived and little harm was done.
Unfortunately, millions worldwide are not so fortunate, and pay a dear price.
I was in grade four when we moved to the city. I often had to pick up bread and milk from the corner café, seven street blocks away. Three boys, a year or two my senior, lived in an apartment building along the way. The ringleader had a sixth sense for when I would be on my errant. Like trolls under a bridge, they patrolled the route and would not let me pass. Even if I crossed over to the other side of the busy street, they’d run across to taunt and shove me around. Taking an alternative route added an unwanted extra kilometre to my path.
Zach Guinta. unsplash.com
Gyms epitomize grunting and sweaty bodies. We resent the scantily clad men and women, prancing around, wrestling with free weights, admiring their bodies in full-length mirrors. We avoid gyms like the plague.
What if I told you that the only motor vehicles on earth were 11-feet tall monster-trucks, 12-feet wide, and came with 66-inch tires, complete with methanol-injected engines? There is little truth in such a statement. Monster-trucks are custom-built creations, aren’t allowed on public roads and make up less than 0.1 % of all vehicles on the planet.
I’d rather introduce you to the 21st century fitness facilities, where “gyms,” fitness centres, are safe havens, where the focus has shifted, and not everybody cavorts around showing off their physique.
We resignedly accept out lot: our habits are our destiny—impossible to escape. As is the case with our genes, we believe we cannot divorce our habits. It’s part of our humanness, it’s engrained in our fiber. Our inner man, our fixed mindset, determines the single path our lives will follow—set immutably.
“Not so fast,” says Charles Duhigg, author of: The Power of Habit. Why we do what we do in life and in business. By understanding how it came that we stopped to consciously make choices, by understanding how our behaviours became automatic, we can rebuild those patterns in whichever way we choose.
I must be out of my mind to make such a claim. Or perhaps not.
The collective wisdom is clear: solving a country’s healthcare woes is a precarious and challenging task. Resolving it is close to inconceivable. Offering simplistic and sensational solutions can be an indication of lack of insight, if not downright insensible. If researchers, physicians, health insurers, administrators, politicians and academics can’t come to an agreement on fixing the system, what hope is there for for John and Jane Public?
image courtesy fixtheneck.com
Happy belated New Year!
Most of us are sick already of hearing the over-used phrase. It sounds so, old. We’re deep into the second week of January, and reality is setting in. The festivities and vacation time with friends and family is something of the past, it is but a fond memory. We are back in the salt mines. For many of us it is what it is: another day, another dollar. For those who have retired it may be another grim year with bleak prospects—empty days filled with blandness and solitude.
As children we yearned to be “old enough.” We were so desperate to be grown-up enough, in order to go do things. I can recall how I argued my case with Mother to be allowed to go buy bread and milk at the corner café for the first time.
Soon after that accomplishment, I pushed for permission to cycle to school on my own. This hankering did not diminish as a teenager, as I pestered my parents long before it was time for my driver’s licence.