The Krystal Chick

Do any of you have any things that you do that you just know are “bad?” Like smoking cigarettes, or not exercising? Or maybe you don’t call your mother often enough, or you watch too much television? Do you absolutely know that changing this behavior would benefit you in some way, but you just cannot seem to find the motivation to make the change? Do you ever ask yourself how an otherwise intelligent, thinking, reasonable individual such as yourself can, time and again, fail to make a different decision? I’m not talking about big life-issues, today. I’m talking about the Snicker bar that, even as you are buying it, you are saying to yourself, “I don’t need this,” and you buy it anyway, and eat every bite of it. Do you have any vice that just does the thinking for you? I do, and its name is Krystal Chick.

For those of you who don’t know, the Krystal Chick is a little chicken sandwich. Ok. I know they're fast food and that they have limited nutritional value when compared to, say, the chick pea or soy bean. I get that they are full of fat and cholesterol. Yet, even as I type, I am wondering if I can justify getting into my car and driving to Krystal, thereby effectively reversing all of the healthy things I have done today.

As a regular speaker on goals and motivators, this particular problem should be a non-issue for me. Eating Krystal Chicks is not consistent with any of my goals. My attraction to the Chick, and the fact that I am dedicating an entire blog to them, is absurd, even to me. I wonder how it is that this little inanimate vice can hold so much power over me that I’ll change my day’s schedule, just to get one.

I recently heard Patsy Clairmont say that, “Our will is stronger than our emotions,” which means that, though I really like Krystal Chicks, by force of will, I am made in such a way as to be able to avoid them. Is that true, I wonder? And what kind of a wrestling match between will and emotion would it demand?

Caroline Myss refers to our “spoiled child,” that throws a fit, whenever our will trumps our feelings, and I can hear mine chanting, “I want Krystal Chicks, I want Krystal Chicks.”  Caroline suggests that, just as children find comfort in boundaries, and feel empowered, ironically, by following rules, so do we. So, I try it. To that spoiled child voice in my head, I say lovingly, “These Chicks are not what is best for you. They do not serve your best health. The answer is no. You will not be getting a Krystal Chick, today.”

Hm. Interesting.  The desire to get in my car and drive to Krystal is gone. And my spoiled child seems to be placated, now distracted by her want to walk to the mailbox and enjoy the sunshine and fresh air. I can’t say what will happen next time I am driving past a Krystal, but, for now, I think I get it. I do feel a bit more in control. I do feel a bit more empowered to choose. I do feel a little stronger than I did when my child was in charge. From now on, I’ll let my inner child do what children do: dream, imagine, and think of fun things to try. Then, I’ll be the adult and decide which of her ideas serve us well.

I think I’ll go get the mail.

The Living in Joy Challenge: Tell yourself, “No.” To whatever it is that your spoiled child is suggesting: that $5 latte that doesn’t serve your purpose of saving for vacation, that 7^th extra shift at work that doesn’t serve your idea of family, that cigarette to which your spoiled child demands it’s addicted, just say, “Not this time. It doesn’t serve us.” Please share your results. I can’t wait to hear! J