It’s probably been about five years since I last quit for any extended period of time. Much like any drug, especially one you have enjoyed for most of your life, time and time again it’s held out a long, skinny arm with a cold, shaky finger beckoning me back. I look at it with horror, screaming, “I’m done with you!” and running in the other direction. But three days, maybe two – hell, even 3 hours later – I crawl back, all the while saying, “Just a little bit won’t hurt. A small amount isn’t that bad.”

It’s tough to look around and think, “wow, all these other people are getting it and I’m not. What’s wrong with me?” Often, I find this leads to either self-flogging, projecting anger onto others, and/or wanting to give up. None of which are good for anyone involved. Then I read this article someone tweeted. Ah, right. ‘Tis human nature to compare ourselves to others.

I know these truths are deep inside of me, even when I veer off course. I felt it was worth re-sharing this post at this time, as every day seems to bring another tragic disaster, and some people feel more disconnected now than ever before. I’ve been trying to shield myself a bit from all of the negative influences out there, and sit quietly and contentedly in my own cocoon. This piece reminded me that those negative influences “out there” are just as much a part of “in here” that I cannot deny, but must work to shine a light on.

Veering off from typical TAL fare, this week’s episode is about a drug court in Glynn County, Georgia. Well, it’s more about the woman running this particular drug court, Judge Amanda Williams. Her sentences are so severe that people who forge checks for $100 or are caught with two pills of prescription drugs they don’t have a prescription for face four and five years of drug monitoring, drug classes, and sometimes “indefinite” amounts of time in jail for not following orders in the way Williams approves of.

More diet books are coming out every day, each one purportedly laying out the best eating plan. Titles follow the trend of society toward ever quicker-fixes; we used to have 30 or 40 day diet plans, now we’re down to days and minutes. Though we may shake our heads at some of the titles, they simply reflect our thinking; we want answers.

Research suggests that giving ourselves a break and accepting our imperfections may be the first step toward better health. But is it just as important to notice your judgments of others?

What is too much, too little, and how can we best deal with this mess we’ve created while still living our ultimate existences?