I love smoothies. As a kid, I thought of smoothies the way I thought about homemade ice cream or waffles: an extremely rare treat that must be complicated and time consuming to make, due to its infrequent occurrence in my life.
Imagine my confusion and delight when I moved into my first apartment, bought myself a blender and discovered how easy smoothies actually are to make. I soon realized that it likely wasn’t the difficulty, but the cost that deterred my parents from appeasing my smoothie love. As a young adult trying to support herself, I felt the pressure on my budget while purchasing bags of fresh greens, boxes of ripe berries, exotic sounding nuts and seeds and whatever the milk-of-the-moment was… soy, coconut, almond, rice, oat…
As I’ve gotten older, more financially comfortable and able to afford a Costco membership, one of the habits I’ve welcomed into my life as a permanent fixture is my almost daily fruit and veggie packed smoothie. It feels like and easy, efficient and delicious way to ensure I consume the recommended servings of plants and fiber. I feel like I’m cheating the system every time I sip my bright green drink that tastes like a tropical vacation but is secretly packed with spinach.
Recently, on a trip to Arizona, a google map search revealed that the Phoenix area has an unusual number of smoothie shops. While plenty of the cafes offer “fake smoothies” (sherbet/juice based and low quality ingredients), lots of other locations blended quality ingredients in delicious sounding combinations.
After a workout one morning I noticed myself not wanting to make my usual smoothie, and instead wanting to pop up to the cafe up the street for one of their more interesting combos.
Instantly I started to shut myself down.
Instead of blazing ahead and forcing myself to make my homemade drink, or giving into the urge to head out the door, I paused and checked in with myself.
Why was I feeling the urge to buy instead of make? Why was I then denying myself the purchase?
I wanted the store-bought smoothie because it sounded good and I liked the idea of something different. I liked my reasons, so what was the problem?
The fancy smoothie seemed too expensive.
I realized that my old beliefs about smoothies being indulgent and pricey hadn’t been completely abandoned. While I had been able to adjust my belief as my income became more comfortable, I hadn’t quite released the opinion altogether.
I sat in the warmth of the Arizona sun for a moment and considered.
Q: What’s your goal here?
A: To add fruits and veggies into my diet in a way that’s easy and delicious.
Q: Can you do that if you get a smoothie from the place up the street?
Q: So what’s in the way?
A: The price. It seems like I shouldn’t spend the money.
Q: Do you want that belief to keep standing in your way?
A: No. I can save money in other ways that are more meaningful to me.
And off I went — on foot, I might add — getting a little movement, fresh air and vitamin D to boot.
I’m not saying at all that the price of something shouldn’t get in the way of purchasing it. I’m just suggesting you make sure that you WANT the price to be a deterrent. When you’re able to, stop letting things that don’t really matter get in the way of what matters most.