I want to share a Thanksgiving story with you as we approach turkey day in the U.S.

I started losing weight in March of 1996. By the time November rolled around, I was feeling great about the changes I had made in my life. The prospect of Thanksgiving, however, loomed. My memories of that particular holiday weren’t fond. Even though I would tell you that I “loved” the food we traditionally had on the Thanksgiving table, the day always ended in pain.

Giving thanks = pain….

Mmmmm, no. Something was wrong with that equation!

So, I knew my next Thanksgiving had to be different.

And I had already formulated a no-diet approach to losing weight. My first principle, which I now call the first Catalyst Permanent Weight Loss Principle in my weight loss course, is:

Don’t do anything to lose weight
that you can’t do forever.

So, I pondered Thanksgiving through that lens. I’d read all the holiday eating tips. Eat this before. Don’t eat that. Make mashed potatoes with dishwater instead of cream, butter or sour cream.

None of it sounded good to me.

But, at the same time, I had that slipping, sliding, sinking feeling. You know, that “ut-oh, here I go” premonition that overeating was inevitable and there was nothing I could do about it.

I asked myself: What could I do during the holiday feast that I knew I could do forever? Since I had already discovered food wasn’t the enemy or the problem, and I had no intention of skipping foods I liked or making dishwater mashed potatoes, I knew I wanted to change a behavior.

After some thought, I came up with this plan:

The Plan

First, I would put a little of everything that looked good to me on my plate. I decided I’d put less than usual because this was the “first round.” I told myself I could eat all I wanted, as long as I really tasted the food and didn’t go unconscious. When you “go to the dark side” of consciousness, you no longer taste anything anyway. You’re just remembering the last bite or the first bite, or the time you ate it when you were five. I call this “eating from memory.”

Second, I would truly taste everything on my plate and eat every bit if I wanted it.

Next, I would give myself permission to refill my plate if I wanted to but after I waited ten minutes.

That was my 3-step plan. I decided I’d execute the same plan with the dessert portion of the meal too. Small portions, permission to have more, a big pause to breathe in between.

The pause was the key, though I didn’t know it at the time.

You can’t imagine how I enjoyed that Thanksgiving. It was perhaps the first time I had a holiday meal that satisfied me but didn’t leave me rolling in misery on the couch. It was also the first holiday I could remember that provoked no guilt. Even more important, it reassured me I could live happily through holidays even though I was losing weight.

I probably don’t have to tell you that I never refilled that plate. I meant to, but as I fulfilled my 10-minute pause, my body decided it was done. It also reminded me that there would be plenty of leftovers and that there was no scarcity of turkey, stuffing and cranberries in America.

I’ve employed this technique ever since that Thanksgiving. I call it “the pause that matters.” Try it! Let me know what happens!

I want to wish all my readers a wonderful Thanksgiving. If you are like me, you have a lot of gratitude for the blessings and grace in your life. Oh, and the lessons too!