While eating dinner a while back, I noticed myself pushing on the side of my face to keep my jaw from locking. That’s not good, I thought, and I proceeded to ignore the situation for several months. Finally, at a dental checkup, I mentioned this issue and was referred to physical therapy.

The PT sessions are awkward. The therapist has to stick his hands in my mouth, which is 🤢. However, after two appointments and the adoption of several new daily stretches, guess what? No more lockjaw. Huzzah.

I now have the option to embrace the jaw/physical therapy lesson as an example for other difficulties in my life, and I am totally dancing around doing so. The problem is that the formula looks like this:

1. Identify issue
2. Incorporate betterment strategies
3. Issue resolved

And step #2 is annoying.

My daily walks offer another opportunity for potential intervention. While I was out on my regular route last week, a car pulled up beside me, and a lovely family let me know they’d seen a bear following me a few days before. “He crossed the road and went up the hill,” the driver said, “so we figured you were fine. But, you know, you may want to look around some while you’re walking. And carry bear mace.”

This isn’t the first time a helpful driver has informed me of a nearby stalker bear. I like to imagine them like this:

But they might be more like this:

And sure, I could ditch my headphones to boost my awareness level while walking, and I could swivel periodically to scan my surroundings, and I could carry bear spray. But here’s the thing: I have no intention of doing any of that. I like my oblivious daily wanderings. I just figure: I’m on a walk, the bears are on a walk, and we’ll all be fine. Walk and let walk.

My dear, sweet dogs could also use some targeted support, in that they are both completely cuckoo bananas. Titus patrols the backyard, barking his head off for no discernible reason. Daisy pulls like mad on the leash and wants to obliterate other dogs. And yes, I could put a bark collar on Titus and take Daisy for regimented training walks every day. This is true. Both of those things would most certainly yield positive results. But I DON’T WANT TO. So I’m not going to.

As it turns out, it seems I’m not dancing around this issue at all. The dance is over and decisions are made. I’ll keep doing my PT exercises, and when my jaw doesn’t lock each day, I’ll say, “Good for you, Kelly!” then kiss my crazy dogs on their heads, pop on my headphones, and head out for a stroll with the neighborhood bears.