Bleep Bleep

The start of Lent falls a week from today and although it goes against the typical nature of the season, I'm seeking to do something more pro-active rather than sacrifice something--perhaps embracing more positivity, being more charitable, or being more kind to myself in the sleep department. I hope a bright idea greets me soon, but as I sift through my options, I love hearing what others have in mind.

There's always the classic effort to try to reclaim control over your sweet tooth (or teeth),  

but then there are those who are strictly chocaholics (like my mama) who say farewell to Hershey's, Godiva's and all things dusted in cocoa powder.

The food fads don't end here. There are also carb-cutters, sugar-sacrificers and the fried-food-free meal plans.

One ambition I find particularly admirable (and also near impossible) is staying social media sober. As it becomes our platform for interacting with classmates and keeping up with current events, my generation finds this terribly daunting.


Many Lenten seasons ago, I took on what I thought to be an equally daunting task: giving up my daily Dr. Peppers. Following in my mother's footsteps, I was addicted to this Texas tradition of soft drinks. I practiced what they so catchily preached in their ads: "at 10, 2 and 4, you'll always want more, more, more." To my pleasant surprise, my six-week drought caused me to lose the craving for good.


So, I rid myself of the caffeine curse, which brings me to just that--cursing. Some choose to clean up their language for Lent, which seems to me to be another vow that would prove beneficial as a long-term commitment.

While a spoken word may seem relatively harmless, turns out, your mental health and even worse, your loved ones, are at stake.

In the February issue of Elle, Monica Harel points out the good, the bad and the ugly of profanity. Just like any disease, there are different levels of severity which denote different effects on the mind.


As most of us have experienced, uttering that F, S, B or whatever-bomb delivers us a brief pang of relief. And according to Harel's research more illicit language delivers more relief. She compares it to "damn" acting like Advil and, well, other words acting like Vicodin.


For the scientific-minded, one may find it interesting that ordinary language resides on the left side of the brain while our little stash of curse words is stored in the frontal cortex, which is linked to emotion.


You know those instances when people can't seem to utter anything significant or logical but can string together a slew of curse words? That's why.


Though they act like temporary medication, beware: it's a contagious disease with severe side-effects. Initially, people "perk up" when they hear these words.


But, then you become what Harel calls a "serial swearer" and you weaken the emotional response (don't receive that relief anymore) and actually receive less support from your loved ones and repels those who don't know you yet.

So, bite your tongues or zip them lips ladies and gentlemen. Trade in that F-bomb for your friends and family. It'll be worth it; I swear.