Resolution talk. Have you ever chatted with someone about your resolutions, and they kind of slam on them a little? Like, not in a crappy "I hope you fail" kind of way, but in a "that's too much for me, you're very brave" kind of way.
I was telling someone the other day that I wanted to eliminate dairy and gluten more permanently from my diet this year, because overall my health sky-rockets when I do.
And they said the most FASCINATING thing:
"I couldn't imagine doing that."
They used the word IMAGINE.
You probably have heard this in other contexts:
"I just can't imagine giving up sweets."
"I just can't imagine my life without him/her."
"I just can't imagine saving twenty percent of my income."
"I just can't imagine leaving my job for a better one."
I love that people use the word IMAGINE. It's a CLUE.
Struggling with change isn't a crisis of effort. It's not a crisis of laziness. It's not a crisis of intention.
Struggling with change begins as a crisis of imagination.
I mean, how in the world am I supposed to change my diet if I can't imagine myself with tons of energy, lit up with nutrition, glowing hair, skin and nails? How will I possibly change what my meals look like if I can't imagine myself savoring the most delicious clean proteins and home-grown market veggies? How will make changes to my grocery list if I can't imagine going to the farmer's market for my snacks. Sun in my hair, jazz music in the background... savoring the sights and smells... instead of the convenience of the corner gas station?
What if the people who grow into higher and higher versions of themselves aren't simply warriors? Like, we have this idea that people who make positive change are some how more tough than we are. Gritting their teeth and bearing the brunt of this ridiculously hard change they are embarking on. They prevail! They have enough stamina!
But what if they aren't more tough?
What if they are more imaginative?
What if they are artists?
When you're an artist, you don't do battle with that thing... your imagination does battle for you.
So when I get home starving for a snack, my boyfriend's box of Joe Joe's doesn't do battle with my freaking willpower (I would lose, let's be honest.) Instead, it does battle with a vivid, crisp, technicolor, artistic vision of myself, calm, energized, full of life from all the nutrition in my body.
An imagination like that kicks the Oreos a** every day of the week.