Self-Control

Let me tell you about my parents. Growing up, my mom was a beacon of determination and resilience. Born when she was already 42, she embarked on a journey that defied convention. Starting with a simple run around the block, she transformed herself into a seasoned marathon runner and eventually conquered a triathlon and even trekked uphill to the base camp of Mount Everest at the age of 57. Her story wasn't just about physical feats; it was a testament to the power of starting anew, no matter the age or circumstances.

My dad, on the other hand, was my gateway to the world of knowledge. He wasn't just a parent; he was my science mentor through my formative years. From taking me to science classes as a child to becoming my calculus teacher in high school, he instilled in me a deep appreciation for the wonders of science and critical thinking. It was under his guidance that I learned the value of inquiry and logic, lessons that would shape my perspective on life's challenges.

Growing up with such remarkable parents was both a blessing and, at times, a challenge. Their achievements stood as towering reminders of what dedication and intellect could achieve. Yet, amid their extraordinary accomplishments, I found myself navigating my own path, often feeling overshadowed by their brilliance.

From my mom, I gleaned the profound importance of health—a lesson she embodied through her dedication to fitness and wellbeing. Her journey taught me that it's never too late to start something new, and that persistence can turn ordinary aspirations into extraordinary achievements.

From my dad, I inherited a love for science that transcended the classroom. His teachings went beyond equations and theories; they taught me the discipline to approach problems methodically and the courage to question the status quo.

Despite the weight of their legacies, I came to realize that true humility lies not in comparison, but in embracing our own journeys. Their paths, though awe-inspiring, were uniquely theirs. And so, I embarked on a quest to find my own purpose.

It was during this quest that I stumbled upon a profound truth—an insight that would redefine my understanding of human behavior and self-control. In a world inundated with messages of suppression and distraction, I discovered the concept of willingness. It wasn't about fighting cravings or denying urges; it was about accepting them with grace and understanding. This revelation didn't come easily. Initially skeptical, I dismissed the idea as mere "psycho-babble." But life has a way of circling back, and I found myself immersed in research that validated the power of willingness—a cornerstone of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy.

Through my work at the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center, I witnessed firsthand the transformative impact of willingness on behaviors like smoking cessation. I learned that true self-control isn't about exerting forceful restraint; it's about relinquishing control and allowing space for acceptance and kindness—towards oneself and others.

In counseling individuals like Jane, who struggled with smoking, I saw the profound shift that occurs when we stop battling our cravings and instead embrace them with compassion. It was in those moments that I understood the essence of self-control: it's not a contest of willpower against desire, but a gentle dance of acknowledgment and release.

Today, as I stand before you, I see a world grappling with preventable epidemics like obesity and smoking. These are not just health crises; they're manifestations of deeper struggles with self-control and acceptance. The solution, I believe, lies not in more stringent rules or harsh discipline, but in fostering a culture of willingness—a culture that embraces our humanity and our imperfections.

So, as we navigate our own journeys, let us remember the lessons of my parents: the value of health and the power of science. But let us also remember the lesson of willingness—the gentle art of letting go and finding peace amidst the cravings that define our human experience. In doing so, we may just find the compassion and resilience to scale the mountains that lie ahead.