Getting Hacked and Feeling the Love!

(or) Don’t Fall for the Latest Internet Scam

“If you had any doubt how loved you are, you had a lot of people very concerned about you this morning,” my brother Andy said. Before I awoke Thursday morning, Andy was bombarded with emails and phone calls. Many were ready to send money. I got to hand it to the hackers—they picked the right guy! Most people didn’t find it the least bit out of character that I would make “a quick trip to the UK.”

The woman who had subletted my place in December sent me an email through airbnb.com.  ”i just want to make sure if you are stuck in UK and need money immediately. I can only lend you 300 dollars, that’s the best i can do.”

Keep in mind I have never met this woman!  I’m both flattered by her heart and concerned for her naiveté, but certainly more the former.

My friend Jimbo was on his way to Western Union. He wrote:

Will keep trying to call, but don’t think I can from my phone.  np with helping out…just need to know what to do with it.

My friend JB wasn’t quite fooled, but his humor was much appreciated. He wrote:

Dink, I don’t think this is you.  This looks like one of those frauds. However, I’ll send the money if you can tell me: What’s a dangling participle, and why do I care?

I still feel violated, but I also feel blessed. I’ve also learned how addicted I am to my email account and facebook accounts (neither of which I can access—use ventureliterary@yahoo.com for now if you need to reach me), and I’m seeing if I can learn something from this. Be careful what I wish for when seeking attention! Last but not least, if you get an email like the one below, recognize that it’s a scam. If a friend is asking for money or help, be sure to call to confirm.

***

Apologies for having to reach out to you like this, but I made a quick trip to the UK and had my bag stolen from me with my passport and credit cards in it. The embassy has cooperated by issuing a temporary passport, I just have to pay for a ticket  and settle Hotel bills.
To be honest,i don’t have money with me,I’ve made contact with my bank but the best they could do was to send me a new card in the mail which will take 2-4 working days to arrive here.i was thinking of asking you to lend me some quick funds that i can give back as soon as i am out  of here,i  really need to make a last minute flight that leaves in a few hours. I can furnish you with info on how you will get me the money. You can reach me via hotel’s desk phone, the number is, +44 (0) 2920 454 090.

 

Yoga Teacher Going Postal!

(or) Before You Yell Hypocrite, Check the Projector

“That’s the thing about a human life—there’s no control group, no way to ever know how any of us would have turned out if any variables had been changed.”

–Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat Pray Love

No way. Couldn’t be her. I couldn’t see her face, but from the back, the short brunette had the identical haircut as Claire. She was clearly annoyed, as would be expected from a mere mortal as the line at the post office slowed to a crawl. It only got worse when one of the two tellers, expanding queue be damned, closed her window and headed for lunch.

How did I know the fidgeting, exasperated woman wasn’t my friend Claire? Because Claire is one of the most amazing yoga teachers on the planet. She not only speaks of gratitude, love and acceptance but she’s the living embodiment of it. Even when I don’t feel like doing yoga, I’ll often take her class just to get a dose of her inspiring vibe.

Finally, the brunette made it to the teller and as she headed to the door, I saw that it was, in fact, Claire. She gave me one of her delightful hugs and when I asked how she was doing, she said, “I need a yoga class after that line.”

This reminded me of another yoga teacher who I had breakfast with after one of her classes. When her order didn’t arrive, she not so delicately stormed to the kitchen and demanded to know what was taking so long. I told my friend James this story and he said, “Everyone has a yoga teacher story, most of them involve road rage.”

I find it interesting that if we see someone go ballistic after an anger management class, our natural reaction is, “Well it’s a good thing he’s in class.” But if we see a yoga teacher or a spiritual practitioner lose it, we’re inclined to cry “hypocrite!” What we fail to look at is how said teacher/practitioner would have acted without their practice. For all we know, without yoga, the irritated Claire might have been the batshitcrazy Claire. And rather than jonesing for a yoga class, she may have been jonesing for a shot of heroin.

So why is it so typical to judge spiritual teachers? For one, it’s a test. We want to know if what they’re teaching works and judging their behavior seems like the best way to do it. We also may do it to give ourselves an out. See; it obviously isn’t working for her, so why bother. And yet another reason is one that I’ve been focusing on a lot these days—we are simply projecting. When we ourselves act hypocritically, we tend to be quick to call others out for what we perceive as hypocrisy. Yet is it really hypocritical for a yoga teacher to be impatient? Is it hypocritical for a meditation teacher to smoke two packs a day? And is it hypocritical for a health writer/advocate like myself to occasionally eat ice cream right from the container at two in the morning?

I prefer to use another word that starts with an H: human.

I just returned from Koh Samui, my former home, where my friends are mostly yoga teacher and spiritual practitioners. They do incredible work at Spa Samui and have been instrumental in the healing and happiness of thousands of people, yet none of them would be accused of resembling the Dalai Lama (big hitter). To discount their imperfections as hypocrisy or as evidence that what they do isn’t effective would be short-sighted.  Had I done so, I would have missed out on some of the most transforming experiences of my life.

The first book I read on health was Andrew Weil’s 8 Weeks to Optimum Health in 1997. Twelve years later, he spoke at my school, The Institute for Integrative Nutrition, and I was surprised to see that he looked overweight. So does that mean I should stop eating organic produce, having news fasts, and taking steam baths because Weil, 67 at the time of his speech, didn’t look like Charles Atlas?

More important, is it absolutely true (who loves you Byron Katie?) to say these techniques are not working for Weil? How do I know if he practices what he preaches? What do I know about his genetic make-up or his lifestyle? And going back to Elizabeth Gilbert’s quote, how could I possibly know what he would look like if he didn’t employ these techniques?

Most of us teach what we need to learn. That’s why when I find myself quick to judge, I recognize it as a projection of my own self-judgment. At that point, I remind myself that imperfection makes us human and it’s my choice to love myself, and in turn love others, in spite of those imperfections. Even the painfully inefficient U.S. Postal Service, I choose to thank for inspiring this column. I love you too!

 

 

 

How My Funk Transformed Into Whistling Zip-a-dee-doo-dah

(or) Put on Your Lipstick and/or Your Jockstrap Every Day

I’m not sure if I’m in withdrawal from my trip to Thailand or if I’m suffering a bout of seasonal affective disorder (SAD), but I’ve been in a funk lately. I know I’ve got it rough: it’s 56 and partly cloudy in L.A. while most of the country is in a blizzard and I want you to cry me a river. The thing about funks is that they work to sustain themselves. The more I’m down, the less I want to leave home. And even when I’m out, I’m not radiating the type of energy that’s going to attract the right people and opportunities into my life. Thus the funk takes on new life—if I allow it.

My friend Felicia learned from her mom that no matter what was going on, she should put on her lipstick every day. It was her ways of saying “fake it till you make it.” That is, show the world you are together (the lipstick being one easy polish) and the world will put you back together again. Since Felicia works from home like me, she has the opportunity to hide. But instead, no matter how she’s feeling, every day she puts on her lipstick and faces the world. Invariably, she hears a song at the coffee shop that makes her smile or strikes up a conversation that pumps new life into her. And even if nothing miraculous happens, she’s giving herself the opportunity to change her state.

In basketball, when you’re missing shot after shot, the lack of confidence often leads to more misses and then a reluctance to shoot. That’s why you often hear that a shooter has to keep shooting. Stop shooting and you’re even more stuck. The only way out of the rut is activity.

As it was, last night I made good on my pledge to get involved more with my community and went to a yoga class followed by a potluck. I ended up talking to the teacher and will be her guest at a screenwriter’s group tonight. I also replied to an email about another project and was rewarded with an invite to a party for the Auburn-Oregon game tonight. And here I am, life-long night owl, up at 7 a.m. and writing another column. Things didn’t just shift. No, it was my actions that have rendered my funk officially over.

And here’s where things get really strange. I went to a party on Labor Day in 2009 (nearly a year and a half ago) and met a woman at a party who was divine. She was the type of woman who instantly made me say, “I’d marry her today, no questions asked.” Turned out she was from England and had also done a fast at Spa Samui in Thailand (perhaps this explained her radiance). We chatted for a bit and got along well before she put a dagger in my heart when she mentioned her boyfriend. Anyway, I recall e-mailing her just to stay in touch and not hearing back. Then, five seconds ago (I swear—I could not make this up!), she friended me on LinkedIn. A coincidence? I’ve learned not to try to explain these things, but certainly an affirmation—and a funk-buster if there ever was one. Twenty-four hours ago I was glued to my couch; now I’m whistling zip-a-dee-doo-dah out of my asshole.

When things are going bad, inertia will set in and want to keep you in the house. It’s these times where only your resolve will get you out of the house. You don’t have to leave with the intention of setting the world on fire; you just have to go. As Woody Allen said, “showing up is 80 percent of life.”

Any Stuff You Don’t Need is a Burden

(or) The Bad Part about Being Rich is That It’s Expensive

Carolyn Burnham: This is a $4,000 sofa, upholstered in Italian silk. It is not just a couch.

Lester Burnham: [shouts] It’s just a couch. This isn’t life, it’s just stuff. And it’s become more important to you than living.

-Annette Benning and Kevin Spacey in American Beauty

I detailed in my last column how I made $1100 by going to Thailand on vacation. The real hero in this story is stuff–my lack of attachment to it as well as the choices I make to maximize pleasure and flexibility.

Now that most airlines charge for luggage, we have a clearer view of the price on baggage. Travel heavy and you pay for it. Value your stuff too much and you pay for it as well. If I were about my TV getting stolen or my couch getting stained, I may not sublet. Yes, I enjoy my couch and TV but I know they’re easily replaceable and thus don’t fret about them.

Before I jump on my anti-stuff soapbox, I can see the value of it. It can make your house feel like a home. It provides comfort and memories. My guitar, bike, blender, pictures, bed sheets, savings account, and computer all make my life better. That’s why with stuff, like most things in life, it’s more about balance than elimination.

My friend Selah moved four times in the three years she lived in New York City. After the fourth move, she went through her closet and made a pile of all the clothes she hadn’t worn once in those three years. And guess what she discovered? A whole new wardrobe of nice clothes she didn’t even know she had buried amongst the stuff she didn’t need. In boxes, movers, and back pain, she paid for all those unwanted clothes. And when she gave them to charity, she gained a tax write-off, an organized closet, a new wardrobe, and the goodwill of helping others.

Let’s pretend you strike it rich and buy a $2 million house in California and a Maserati Quattroporte for $120,000. You’re looking at $25,000 a year in property taxes and $5,000 a year in car insurance. For a house like that, tack on a security system, a gardener, a cleaning service, and homeowner’s insurance. And for a car like that, you’ll want to get it detailed frequently not to mention the premium fuel (12 mpg) and over-priced upkeep. We’re talking 50 grand a year just to maintain your stuff (if you finance the car or pay for any of this with credit card debt, you get crushed even more).

Lest you think I’ve transformed into Dougy Downer and Matty Miser all in one, there’s a beautiful synergy in all this. Freedom is limiting fixed costs and pleasure is doing something different than the norm. Hedonic adaptation means we get used to things (for more on this, check out Dan Gilbert’s fantastic book, Stumbling on Happiness). After a few weeks, that new Maserati loses its luster and simply becomes your car. Same thing with your deluxe new kitchen. When you go easy on stuff, you not only gain freedom and feel less burdened by overhead, but perhaps as important, you get an extra dose of pleasure when you break from the norm and rent the luxury car and stay in the 5-star hotel.

You hear all the time about athletes (like Antoine Walker) and celebrities with earnings north of $100 million who are flat bloke. It’s no surprise when you see how expensive it is to be rich! So even if you make a bundle, think about limiting your overhead. Buying a little less house and having more money for an over-the-top vacation and/or frequent stay-cations will likely increase your pleasure and your financial flexibility. When I won my mini-lottery at the World Series of Poker, I didn’t buy anything. Tangible that is. What I bought was freedom and flexibility, and when I did splurge on a hotel, a restaurant, or a massage, it felt special because I was living in the same apartment and maintaining the same daily lifestyle.

That Maserati may be worth it to you. Just be sure to consider the cost to own as well as the cost to buy—not to mention if it will give you as much pleasure in a year as it gives you in the first week. Stuff has its perks, but the Peace Pilgrim had a good point: “Anything you don’t need is a burden.”

 

How I Made $1100 by Going on Vacation to Thailand

(or) You Can Have Roots and Wings

“You can’t have roots if you want to have wings.”

-Unknown

“Watch me.”

-Greg Dinkin

Fixed costs can limit freedom, yet they can make your life more stable and grounded. After being virtually homeless for 2 ½ years, I signed a one-year lease on an apartment in Venice Beach last summer. I could only put off buying a car for seven months, and before long, I had the following bills to pay before I got out of bed every day. Rent, Internet/Phone/Cable, Utilities, Car Insurance, Netflix, Yoga Membership, Cell Phone and Health Insurance. As a “value” fanatic, I hate paying for things I don’t use, which meant I had a hard time justifying an $1100 r/t flight to Thailand with all those fixed costs. What I learned is that none of them were truly fixed.

First, I subletted my apartment. I’ve used Craiglist.org in the past and just discovered Airbnb.com, which was fantastic. Because I had a business/family trip in late November, I was able to sublet my place for six weeks for more than the combined rent. I put my Netflix, yoga, and car insurance (besides comprehensive) on hold, and since VirginMobile, my cell phone carrier, doesn’t require a contract (this isn’t an accident; I avoid fixed contracts like the plague), I changed my plan to per call only. I was happy to keep my health insurance and the subletters absorbed the cost of cable and utilities.

Funds coming in/saved
sublet income	2650
yoga	155
car insurance	85
cel phone	40
netflix	20
	2950
Vacation costs
R/t la to bangkok	1100
other flights	340
ground transport	90
lodging	320
	-1850
Net Change	$1,100

So what about food, clothes, entertainment (just got back from the Full Moon Party!) and all the other variable costs? Those are costs I’d have no matter where I am, and even with a daily massage in Thailand ($10), those costs happen to be lower when I travel (an 8-day fast did wonders for my food bill). If I had to pay for Internet or rent a car, it would be fair to include those in my “fixed” costs, but I don’t include a taxi ride here and there since those add up to less than what I spend on gas when I’m home. And as to whether sublet income is really income, yes I’m still paying rent but the reason I make out is because my lodging costs are so low. For more than half my trip I stayed with friends (thanks again Lumyai and bandmate Hajjar) and for the sixteen nights that I stayed in a hotel, it was only $320. Did I mention that for $20 a night, it is beachfront and that I love Koh Samui, Thailand?

In 2004, the Republican National Convention was in New York City and word was that people were renting their apartments for a fortune. My girlfriend at the time suggested I sublet my 1-bedroom apartment in Soho and stay at her place (I slept on the couch…I swear). I ended up getting $500 for three nights—from someone who had nothing to do with the convention! We were hardly put out and enjoyed what felt like free money. On every trip of four days or more since, I’ve subletted. This summer I spent a week driving the Pacific coast with my sister and god-daughter and even with a 4-star hotel in San Francisco ($80 on hotwire) and two nights at Harbin Hot Springs, I made money for the trip. In 2006, I went to Vegas on “business” and rented my New York apartment for $900. I added $100 of my own and entered a World Series of Poker event. The $102,542 pay-out for second place was quite a return.

Add the fact that my subletters have been kind, clean and respectful, and you can see that subletting has allowed me to enjoy the grounding of having my own place along with the freedom of not having fixed costs. Hence, the roots and wings.

Having family and friends to crash with (at home or when you travel) and/or finding inexpensive lodging is what really makes this work. And since you typically stay with family over holidays when others are also traveling, there will likely be demand for your sublet. If you want to go upscale (or prefer a good waterboarding to staying with your family), you may not make money on your trip, but that sublet income may be the difference between the Four Seasons and the Super Eight.

The real hero in this story is a lack of attachment to stuff. I’ll explain in my next column…after I get another massage.

Still Thinking about The E.V. of an $8 Cab Ride

(or) Exercising Your Decision-Making Muscles Empowers Every Element of Your Life

Life is about decisions, and poker is a great training ground for honing your decision-making skills. Every day we have to make decisions and the more we develop that skill, the better our lives become.

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, was a good example. My flight to visit my family in Charlotte was scheduled to leave BWI at 3:35 p.m. I planned on taking a 1:20 Marc train from D.C.’s Union Station that would get me to BWI at 1:58. By the time I picked up the free shuttle, I figured I would be at the terminal by 2:15. While it was a little tight, it seemed like a good plan.

While waiting for the 1:20 train, there was an announcement that it was running late. My first instinct was to check my options. There are always options. As it was, the next Amtrak train wasn’t until 2:05. Taking a cab would have been at least $75 plus there was no guarantee that it would get there any faster.

As it was, I boarded the train at 1:40 and arrived at BWI at 2:18. I don’t hope; I plan. So before we arrived, I got up from my seat and moved towards the doors because I wanted to get on the first shuttle. When I arrived, the shuttle wasn’t there. Sure enough, there were cabbies hustling: “No waiting; we’ll take you now. Only eight dollars.”

Eight bucks for a cab or wait for the free shuttle? I now had an opportunity to flex my decision-making muscles. And because I’ve been playing poker since I was sixteen, I’ve developed the skills to quickly measure risk and reward and make an empowered decision.

I love this example because there are so many variables to consider. First off, what if I miss my flight? Given that it’s the busiest travel day of the year; will I be able to get on another flight that day? And even if I can, how much will it cost? How much of a hassle will it be for my brother who is picking me up in Charlotte? Where will I sleep if I have to stay over-night?

Let me take you inside my head. First of all, if I didn’t have eight dollars I would have had fewer options. Or even if I had it but was feeling strapped, that money would have been hard to part with. When you enter any game, business, or life situation short of capital, it creates fewer options and more stress which often leads to sub-optimal decisions.

I emphasize in my book, The Poker MBA, and in my speeches that decisions need to be made based on future, and only future E.V. (expected value). On this particular trip, I had saved more than $100 by not renting a car for my time in D.C., I crashed with friends, and this was all on the heels of being well paid for a speech, not to mention that my cross-country flight was paid for. Add the fact that I had paid $6 for the Marc commuter train instead of $14 for the Amtrak so the $8 felt insignificant. See, it felt insignificant based on the immediate past. Gamblers would say I was free-rolling because I had already saved money for the cheaper train. But I believe there’s no such thing as found money or playing with the house’s money. Once it’s in your pocket, regardless of how it came to you, it’s yours.

On the other hand, what if I had over-paid for a bad dinner the night before and then lost two grand playing poker? What if I had splurged and paid $34 to ride the Acela to sit in a more comfortable chair? I likely would have felt less inclined to pay for a cab when the bus was free. That’s human nature, but it’s also not sound decision-making. Since I had $8 in my pocket, the decision should have been limited to the future E.V. of taking the cab. It’s hard not to think about the immediate past, but it doesn’t mean it’s smart. Whatever I had spent in the past was a sunk cost.

Eight bucks for a cab made the decision easy. But what if it was $80? What if it was the only flight of the day and if I didn’t catch it I would miss a speech or a wedding? In those situations, I might have paid $800. What makes decision-making so dynamic is that we’re dealing with imperfect information. I couldn’t know for sure if the bus (or the cab for that matter) would get me there on time.

I took the cab. I arrived at the terminal at 2:28 and there was no line at ticketing. I was a bit disappointed. Then I went to security and when there was no line, I was really disappointed. See, I wanted to feel good about my decision! I had factored in that there could be a long line for security. As it was, I was at my gate more than an hour before take-off.

So did I make a poor decision? Given the outcome, it appears I did. I wasted $8 on a cab when the free bus would have gotten me there in plenty of time. And while I think there’s tremendous value in analyzing decisions, you can only evaluate them based on the information you had at the time. If I had to make this decision again, knowing what I knew not now, but at that time, I would have made the same decision to take a cab. It was a very small price to pay for insurance and the risk of losing $8 (as I did) was far less than the risk of missing my flight.  What I would have done differently is that I would have taken an earlier train and printed my boarding pass. Even though the outcome was okay, I recognize those were poor decisions and I’ll be smarter next time. I don’t want to miss any opportunities to learn even when the outcome was desirable.

Whether it’s catching a cab, going through a yellow light, or pre-paying for a gym membership, these are the type of life decisions we make every day. They all involve risk and return and require critical thinking. By honing the skills of a poker player, you become better at them.

The key learning points from this story are:

• Have enough money and play at stakes you can afford. When you’re short on money, not only do you have fewer choices, but the worry and stress leads to an emotional state (known as tilt) that clouds your decisions.
• Remember that there are always options. When choices A and B look bleak, think about choices C and D.
• Hope is a waste of energy. Don’t hope. Instead, plan, evaluate and strategize.
• Think about what you have to gain and what you have to lose from each choice. In other words, think risk and return.
• Evaluate your decisions based on your thought process, not on the outcomes.

It may seem like a lot of work for a simple $8 decision, but once you begin to exercise your decision-making muscles, it becomes second nature and incredibly empowering. Plus, the pay-off extends to every element of your life.

I’m most thankful today that life has dealt me a wonderful hand with so many choices to make—even if a small part of me wishes I still had that eight bucks.

A Substance Problem or a Living Problem?

Apologies for the summer absence. I’ve been focused on my screenplay. I’ve loved every minute of the process and am excited to be finished with a solid draft. With all the adrenaline that has come with the process, I’ve had a few nights of insomnia and haven’t been as balanced. Returning to my blog is a step in restoring balance to my writing and my life. Looking forward to your comments on my latest entry.

(or) Overheard at Alcoholics Anonymous

“What’s really helped me,” the man said to kick off the A.A. meeting, is to consume small amounts of alcohol throughout the day. It’s the grazing concept.” This touched off a big debate before an Ayurveda expert took the floor and explained the importance of not mixing alcohol for proper digestion. He showed chart after chart of medical research proving that it’s best to allow six hours in between drinks and to never drink before bed. Then, a woman stood up and said everyone was missing the point. The question wasn’t when but what, and said that as long as the alcohol was local and organic, how much one consumed didn’t matter. The topic then shifted to liver detox, and a fasting expert (a woman after my own heart) said that the key to metabolizing alcohol is to detox the liver through a rigid three-day procedure once a month. As long as this is done, alcohol will be assimilated better and one will have more freedom to drink what one wants.

Have I made my point?

In truth, (though I’m an infrequent drinker) I did attend an A.A. meeting with my friend Neil. He said the simplest thing, yet it hit me like a ton of bricks. “I don’t have a drinking problem,” he said. “I have a living problem.”

Neil was self-aware and honest enough to realize that his “living problem” led him to drink. Yet unlike most of the people with living problems that lead them to eat, Neil chose to attack the problem (the living) and not the symptom (the drinking). Granted, the obvious difference between alcohol/drugs and food is that food is necessary for survival, but I do think many of us with food-related issues (myself included) focus on the symptom (eating) and not the problem (living).

That’s why at The Institute for Integrative Nutrition, school founder Joshua Rosenthal talks mostly about “primary food”—relationships, exercise, career, and spirituality.  Rosenthal says, “All that we consider today as nutrition is really just a secondary source of energy.” As Health Coaches, we are trained to look for “living” problems that manifest themselves into food issues before we recommend what you should eat for breakfast.  This idea led me to write the column “What Are You Hungry For.”

It’s no wonder that treating symptoms not only doesn’t solve the underlying problem, but perpetuates addictive behavior. If you have a headache because you’re dehydrated, taking an aspirin is a temporary solution—and one that you’ll likely keep repeating–until you take the less expensive, smarter, healthier step of replenishing your fluids and minerals. The bookstores are lined with books on diet and nutrition yet the obesity rate keeps climbing. Could it be because these books are missing the point?

When someone eats a gallon of ice cream at midnight, we’re not seeing the big picture if we start talking about carbs versus protein, why it’s better to eat early in the day, or how dairy causes mucus. I’m all for nutritional information and I’m not ready to throw out the baby with the bath water. What, when and how we eat plays a role in our ability to feel satiated and make healthy choices regarding food. But let’s also not forget that most substance issues are really living issues and the solutions are not likely to be found in a diet book.

If you have a substance problem, take a page from Neil and focus on the problem not the symptom. It takes self-awareness and honesty to get to the core of your living problem, but the reward is that when you do, your “substance” problems likely will vanish. After all, when someone drinks a fifth of whiskey, no one ever says “it must have been because you were thirsty.”

Poker columnist Roy Cooke’s “Life Rules”

(or) Roy Cooke is a Sage Masquerading as a Poker Player

Roy Cooke has been writing insightful columns for more than 20 years, and I’m grateful for his contribution. Along with John Bond, his latest column in Card Player details his life rules. Among my favorites:

1. It’s important to do what you say you will do.

2. Nobody makes you angry, sad, hurt, happy, or anything else. How you feel is up to you.

3. The right thing to do is rarely an absolute, as it always depends on the situation, so make sure that you understand the situation. It’s just like poker.

The entire column is worth reading. Below I’ve copied simply the life rules.

These “Life Rules” keep me (Roy Cooke) beyond good enough, and keep my poker game and life in perspective.

It’s important to do what you say you will do.

Save your emotional energy for those things about which you can and will do something.

Personal loyalty is the highest ethical imperative. Personal integrity is a close second.

There are only two kinds of problems — those about which you can do something, and those about which you can’t.

Of the problems about which you can do something, there are only two kinds — those that are worth the effort and those that aren’t.

Of those for which it is worth doing something, there are only two kinds — those about which you will do something, and those about which you won’t.

Save your emotional energy for those things about which you can and will do something.

All other things being equal, make every decision in your life such that it gives you more choices rather than fewer.

Make every minute the best that it can be, while still planning for the long term — as you could get hit by a truck tomorrow or live to be 100. Neither is likely, but either is possible. James Dean may have verbalized this better than anyone: “Dream as if you’ll live forever; live as if you’ll die tomorrow.”

You rarely regret what you did as much as what you didn’t do — so when in doubt, do it.

Always have a Plan B … and a Plan C … and a Plan Z.

It never matters whose fault it is. You can learn from it, of course, but the important issues are what to do and where to go from here. Blame is a null concept.

You can never tell anyone what he should do. The best that you can do is give your honest advice and let him make his own decisions. And as much as you may disagree with those decisions, you have to respect his right to make them, even (especially?) when you think they’re wrong. And if you care about him, stand by him, regardless.

You are responsible for all of the consequences of your actions, even the unforeseen ones. Only you are responsible for the consequences of your actions. And you’re responsible for only the consequences of your own actions.

Nobody makes you angry, sad, hurt, happy, or anything else. How you feel is up to you.

The right thing to do is rarely an absolute, as it always depends on the situation, so make sure that you understand the situation. It’s just like poker.

There are smaller but very important thoughts encompassed in this worldview: People are going to change, but they’re not going to change for you; don’t say anything about somebody if you wouldn’t say it to him; be generous in all things; don’t whine or complain; give blood; be an organ donor; know CPR; vote against incumbents; recycle; and never say, “I told you so” — to yourself or anybody else. One of John’s favorite authors (Ursula LeGuin) says, “Nobody who says I told you so is or ever will be a hero.” And she’s right.

What are you Hungry For?

(or) Getting at the Essence of Addiction

I knew a guy named Titus who went to Atlantic City with $300 to gamble. Once he lost it all, he dug into his pockets and found one last twenty. He went right to the craps table, put it on the pass line and won. He did it again. And again. And again. He now had $320 and could go home even. But that wasn’t even a thought. He bet it all and won. He did it again. And again. He suddenly had $2,560 in chips in front of him.

Before this trip, if you told Titus he was going to double his money, he would have been thrilled. Had you told him he would win a grand, he would have been over the moon. So with more than $2,200 in winnings, what do you think he did?

I won’t answer yet, but I’ll give you a hint. Geneen Roth, author of eight books, including The New York Times bestseller, When Food is Love, spoke to my class at the Institute for Integrative Nutrition. Innocently enough, she asked us to turn to the person next to us and answer one question:

What are you hungry for?

I was floored. Speechless. Embarrassed.

When I finally snapped out of it, that question became the catalyst for me to look at food and addiction in a whole new light. It’s also the same question I would like to have asked Titus when he was at the craps table: what are you hungry for?

When you look at anything done to excess, it’s usually an indication that no amount is enough. There’s a void so deep that it can never be filled. The simple explanation is that Titus, like most compulsive gamblers, was hungry for action. But what does action really mean? And where does it stem from? And does the catch-all word “love” really alert us to what’s missing in our lives?

Geneen’s question forced me to look at myself and my patterns around food. I learned that when I traveled, I craved salty food. This suggested that I was looking for food to ground me. I uncovered that when I couldn’t sleep at night, I would use food as a way to slow down my mind and help me sleep (the proverbial food coma). When I looked deeper, to places that weren’t as comfortable, I understood that I looked to food as a way to fill up the emptiness in my life—whether it was feeling lonely or lacking love and support. I also realized that I developed a pattern from my family, passed down from generations, to turn to food as comfort, or even worse, to anesthetize any feelings at all.

I was lucky enough to read a column by Roy Cooke in Card Player magazine when I was nineteen that urged me to H.A.L.T. That is, don’t play poker when hungry, angry, lonely or tired. Indeed, as I’ve become more balanced in my life, I’ve become a better poker player. Not so coincidentally, I made my biggest score at the World Series of Poker three months after I hired a holistic health counselor, paid off all my debt, and began making healthier choices. When I watch poker players who consistently lose, I wonder what keeps bringing them back. What is it that they’re so hungry for that allows them to continue to lose their money and pride, day after day?

Awareness is the first step in creating change. By asking myself what I was hungry for, I started noticing patterns and finding new tools and solutions. I now see that when my life is in balance and I feel full from my work and the people I love, food is often an afterthought. When I do have those moments of loneliness and the need to fill a void, my logical mind combined with my awareness takes over. It tells me that food won’t fill those voids. I take a breath and think about what I can do that will. Maybe I pick up my guitar. Perhaps I write. Or maybe I’ll just sit with it and feel lonely—without the distraction of food to get in the way of my real feelings. And sometimes, I’ll make the conscious choice to eat. When I do, I’m honest with myself that I’m seeking comfort. I don’t beat myself up about it, but I also don’t fool myself into believing that I’ve dealt with the void.

As for Titus, I’m sure it’s no surprise that on his next roll he crapped out and went broke. I do think there is much to learn from his story. The next time you find yourself feeling insatiable, whether it’s to eat, drink, gamble, screw, shop, work or whatever you do to excess, ask yourself: What am I hungry for?

How Pointing at the Obesity Epidemic Fattened Me Up

(or) Don’t Bother with Not to Do; Focus on What to Do

I wasted an hour watching “One Nation Overweight” on CNBC—an hour I could have spent exercising. Twenty minutes in, all I’d seen were a bunch of overweight people in a hospital. Then I watched a high school in Virginia roll out a “candy cart” to raise money. This came with the obligatory stats on childhood obesity and diabetes along with the rationalization from the school’s principal. Then we were on to interviews with pharma executives talking about the next miracle obesity drug. At the completion of the hour, I learned nothing new and left with zero ideas on what to do about it.  

When I was at the Institute for Integrative Nutrition, raw food guru and author David Wolfe, speaking about health in America, urged our class “to stop pointing at the problem” and instead, take an active role in the solution. The media loves to get us riled up because outrage sells. But what good does it do for me to get frustrated when I watch the CEO of Domino’s defend why his company sells so much “nutritious” pizza to schools.

In the majority of my columns, I have lists with action items. I might start by pointing at a problem (like microwave ovens or cell phones) but ultimately I’m going to tie it back to what we can do about it. In that spirit, a quick recap of the problem: 200 million Americans are overweight, which costs $147 billion a year, a figure that keeps rising. Agro-business and pharma companies are out to make a buck, often at the expense of our health. The government approved Aspartame and subsidizes high fructose corn syrup and makes policy often at odds with our health. I could go on pointing at the problem as my blood boiled, but I’m only stating what we already know.

As a shout-out to David Wolfe, let’s get to some solutions.

What to Do About the Obesity Epidemic

1. Vote with your wallet. If you have an issue with junk food, stop buying it. If you want to support local farmers, buy their food.
2. Vote with your feet. Walk to your kids’ school or your boss’ office and ask for healthier choices in the cafeteria. Offer solutions as well as your time and support.
3. Vote with your eyeballs. If you have an issue with glamorizing skinny models or marketing junk food to kids, stop reading magazines and watching programs that do.
4. Make your own choices. If your school, employer or local market doesn’t change, don’t eat their food.
5. Make one lifestyle change to improve your health.
6. Elevate and inspire your family, friends and colleagues (and reduce the cost of healthcare) by looking fantastic and radiating good health.
7. Actively support organizations like the Center for Food Safety that fight to make our food healthier.

I wouldn’t be offering these solutions if I wasn’t living them. I’ve lost 60 pounds through my own process of trial and error. I spent $800 for a holistic health counselor when I was nearly broke. I now spend the majority of my money on my health—yoga classes, a gym membership, organic food, chiropractic, and fasting retreats in Thailand. I’m not asking anyone else (especially the government, which is to say, my fellow Americans) to pay for my sickness and I’m not interested in paying for anyone else’s sickness. There, I said it. Shoot me. (Actually, I’d prefer that you don’t shoot me but rather express your opinion in the box below. Keep in mind that I am willing to pay my fair share for our health).

Looking to your employer, school, government, or to big pharma to fix obesity is disempowering. Pointing at the problem is a waste of time. Taking your health into your own hands seems like your only choice. While I don’t know that boiling blood actually fattens me up, I do know that sitting on the couch, pointing at the obesity epidemic, does.