Category: Habits

  • Breaking Free to Go Be

    I want to break free, I want to break free
    I want to break free from your lies
    You’re so self-satisfied I don’t need you
    I’ve got to break free
    God knows, God knows I want to break free

    Queen, I Want to Break Free

    When does a great habit ground another habit before it can take off? Are habits mutually exclusive in this way, or can we stack them together into a meaningful routine? There’s no reason why we can’t have the kind of life we desire. We just have to break free of ourselves first.

    Meaningful routines develop from saying no to the things that steal our time away, and instead using that time for something better. I write almost every morning, no matter where I am in the world, and click publish before the world forces me to decide whether to say yes or no. In this way I’ve gained momentum and an overwhelming desire to keep the streak alive. When I’m sick or traveling or my day is otherwise upside down from the norm I still find a way to publish something. On those days, checking the box may not lead to my best writing, but it’s still one more vote for the type of person I want to become, as James Clear puts it. That’s a win.

    We know when we’re in a bad routine. Our lives feel unproductive and lack direction. We might have obligations we can’t say no to that are holding us back. The only way to break through that wall is with momentum. Small habits strung together and repeated regularly are the building blocks of better.

    We often imprison ourselves with self-limiting beliefs. Breaking free of these beliefs is essential to living a meaningful life. Nelson Mandela spent years in prison, doing manual labor during the day. His cell was barely big enough to move in, and yet he developed a routine that would keep him fit and focused for decades:

    “He’d begin with running on the spot for 45 minutes, followed by 100 fingertip push-ups, 200 sit-ups, 50 deep knee-bends and calisthenic exercises learnt from his gym training (in those days, and even today, this would include star jumps and ‘burpees’ – where you start upright, move down into a squat position, kick your feet back, return to squat and stand up). Mandela would do this Mondays to Thursdays, and then rest for three days.”. — Gavin Evans, The Conversation, How Mandela stayed fit: from his ‘matchbox’ Soweto home to a prison cell

    Environment plays a big part in the meaningful routines we create. For years I didn’t write, until I created the environment for myself to do the work. It’s the same with exercise and flossing and productive work as it is for binge eating or drinking or immersing ourselves in distraction: the environment we create for ourselves matters a great deal. If we want to fly, we must clear the damn runway.

    So how do we clear the runway? Designing a meaningful routine begins with asking ourselves, just who do we want to be? What does a perfect day look like for us anyway? Where do we wake up every morning? What does our first interaction with the world look like? Are we grabbing our phones and checking social media or are we jumping right into our first great habit? Those first moments matter a great deal, for they set the table for our day, and our days.

    When we look at someone like Nelson Mandela following through on his promise to himself despite the conditions he was living in, who are we to accept our own excuses and distractions? We’ve got to break free of our stories and get on the path to what we might become. It’s now or never friend.

  • Stories, and How We Interpret Them

    “Be careful how you interpret the world; it is like that.” — Erich Heller

    “We are defined by the stories we tell ourselves.” — Tony Robbins

    Our beliefs do have a way of defining us, don’t they? Tell a story enough times and it begins to feel like our truth. Stories about who we are, the type of lifestyle we live, the work we do and the people we spend our time with. They usually have similar stories to ours, don’t they?

    Listen to other storytellers. This can be dangerous and disruptive. Wars have begun over stories that don’t jibe with another. Entire cultures have been crushed by stories. There are whispered cries in history for the injustice and pain of a bad story, implemented. An entire lifetime can be wasted when hooked to the wrong story.

    There’s friction in changing stories. How do you shake off the grip of long-held beliefs? The first step is to get out of the echo chamber of reinforcement. Digest new information, find new places, reach beyond what is comfortable.

    Given the stakes, it’s fair to question what we believe to be true in the world. It’s fair to choose to change our story. This is where boldness comes into our story. To be bold is to step away from our previous self and begin the long climb to a better view.

    The trap is to try to pull other people along who haven’t changed their own story just yet. Rarely does another soul want to hear that their story is wrong. Telling people anything is a sure road to resentment and conflict. Let them see instead. When we see we begin to change ourselves, and step towards a new story previously unimagined.

    As with any great story, the first draft is nothing to celebrate. We don’t arrive in this world perfect in every way, no matter what our mother tells us. But we must keep editing. With time and patience and more than a little effort, eventually we’ll arrive at our masterpiece. At least that’s the story I tell myself.

  • Doing Something About It

    Breaking the habit loop is relatively easy when you’re in an environment that is disruptive to bad habits. If everyone around you gets up early and walks together, it’s an easy leap to join them. But if you’re an early morning walker and everyone around you stays up late talking and drinking until the wee hours it becomes a lot harder. Business travel can pull you in either direction. The question is always whether the mind is disciplined.

    A friend of mine once ran 20 miles on a hotel treadmill while training for a race because the weather outside prohibited an outdoor run. I start looking at the clock if I’m on a hotel treadmill for more than 30 minutes. Who’s mind was more disciplined? I think we know.

    Another friend used to do pullups in the hotel stairwell. There was nowhere else to go and his Beach Body workout demanded pullups, so he did the best with what he had. Again, comparison is a bitch. And so I don’t compare myself to either of these friends, but to myself. I do this through a couple of pointed but fair questions: “Have I checked the box today?” and “Am I making progress towards my goal or slipping further behind?” Lately the answers haven’t been good, but awareness matters, doesn’t it? The first step is admitting there’s a problem. The trick then is to do something about it.

    The thing is, there’s always something we can improve upon. It’s when we act on that observation that we begin to change. Corrective action can change our world, should we just begin and stick with it no matter what. Check the box and make progress towards the goal. String enough of these days together and big things happen. We just have to begin.

  • Reading and Writing and All the Other Things

    “I write because I want more than one life; I insist on a wider selection. It’s greed, plain and simple. When my characters join the circus, I’m joining the circus. Although I’m happily married, I spent a great deal of time mentally living with incompatible husbands.” — Anne Tyler

    “I read so I can live more than one life in more than one place.” — Anne Tyler

    We read fiction to escape: to be someone else in another place, if only for a little while. We write fiction to explore: to create something bolder within ourselves that we might not otherwise explore, and drop these characters into the places we might not dare to go in a normal lifetime. To take a walk on the wild side without too much damage. Each of us seeks something more in this world in some way. Fiction offers safe passage to extraordinary places.

    This blog doesn’t dabble in fiction, although this writer has. There’s a distinct separation there, between fiction and non-fiction, and between creative output and daily observation. My name isn’t even Alexander, which may lend to the confusion. Certainly it doesn’t offer optimization of the brand. But so it goes. The motive isn’t to develop a brand, but a deeper understanding of the world and my place in it.

    Sometimes we want to explore other lives, represented in fictional characters who come to life in the pages of a book. Sometimes we want to explore the meaning in our own life, and optimize our potential in this brief go-around. If I’m sure of anything in this daily ritual, it’s that I’m a better writer and a better human for having consistently done it. Writers develop characters, and we also develop our own character. Those richer and bolder lives aren’t just on paper, after all, they’re within us too.

    This business of reading and writing is a lovely part of who we are, but let’s face it: Most of our life is made up of all the other things. When done well, we develop a deeper perspective and sense of place through our active participation in words, but also through our engagement with the world. We must step outside our comfort zone in small ways that lead to bigger and bolder things. Just as a snowball grows as we nudge it along, so we grow as we accumulate skill and confidence through repetitive action. As with the snowball, at some point it grows beyond our capacity to push it, and it is then that we must seek the help of others. We must develop the awareness and courage to ask for help when we find our pushing isn’t quite enough.

    When you stop to think of it, we’re each the authors of our own lives. Those characters we develop are often us. Just as they stretch and grow, so too do we. All the other things that make up a life are derived from our imagination and the courage to step out into the unknown. It shouldn’t just be fiction.

  • On Ritual and Routine

    “Be a good steward of your gifts. Protect your time. Feed your inner life. Avoid too much noise. Read good books, have good sentences in your ears. Be by yourself as often as you can. Walk. Take the phone off the hook. Work regular hours.” — Jane Kenyon

    Last year my bride and I took a morning walk on a quiet beach in the off-season. We saw an older gentleman swimming with his dogs in the brisk Atlantic Ocean and met him as we were walking back towards our car. Well, as is usually the case, his dogs met us first, and he joined them in introductions soon after. He looked like Obi-Wan Kenobi in a thick, hooded robe. He mentioned that he took this Atlantic Ocean plunge with his dogs every day of the year, no matter the weather. The robe and the walk back home were his rewards for completing this ritual, and were thus an integral part of it. His fitness level and radiance betrayed a lifestyle worthy of consideration.

    Lately I’ve thought more of lifestyle design—of deliberately choosing how to spend my remaining time on this earth in daily ritual and routine. We might agree that we’re already living our lives based solely on the bookends of ritual and routine. The question is, are we optimizing our life or should we build better bookends? Is writing first thing in the morning the best use of this time? Or is a long walk better? Or a brisk plunge into cold water? The answer is whatever sets the table for an exceptional day—what comes first should hardly matter, just that we do the things that, stacked together, make up a productive and meaningful day, and by extension, our life.

    We tend to track things like workouts, but don’t always track other things that make up our days. Tracking habits makes sense when you’re trying to establish or reinforce them. I began flossing every day when I stared at an empty box one day, knowing I’d broken the streak. A friend quit smoking simply so he didn’t have to leave a day on his calendar without a big X through it. We forget sometimes in our realization that we can’t control everything that we can control some things. And these small things, added up over time, become big things indeed.

    The way to be a good steward of our gifts is to protect our time in ritual and routine. Kenyon outlines hers in the magical quote above. We might add a few others that punctuate our own days. The trick in building these bookends is to fill the space in between with more activity worthy of our precious time. We know that that space will be filled either way—shouldn’t we make it fulfilling?

    Plunge into things that optimize your days
  • What Things, Accomplished?

    “The fact of the matter is that aiming discipline at the right habit gives you license to be less disciplined in other areas. When you do the right thing, it can liberate you from having to monitor everything.” — Gary Keller, The One Thing

    Doing the right thing begins with knowing what the right thing is, of course. Keller points out that that right thing ought to be our one thing we prioritize in a day. Not the only thing we focus on, mind you, but the box we must check before we move on to other things. His recommendation is time blocking, and working on it until you’ve achieved your goal for the day.

    As a daily blogger, that one thing for me is writing before I move on to other work or family time or exercise. The question is, what are we saying no to that we might say yes to our one thing? One might say the answer is that if you’re focused on the right thing, it doesn’t matter what you say no to. Everything aligns when we focus on the right thing, which Keller said more efficiently than I just did.

    But is writing a daily blog an appropriate one thing? Shouldn’t exercise or family or work be prioritized before writing? It’s not like I’m paying the mortgage with the stream of cash coming in from blogging revenue. The thing is, blogging isn’t about generating revenue for me (you won’t find an advertisement, a Substack subscription offer, or even a basic email subscription. No, the writing is free and probably too hard to find, and is simply a process of documenting my thoughts and observations. Come along for the ride or opt out—for it’s either welcome or no hard feelings, really.

    So what comes after the right thing has been checked off becomes the next one thing. We generally know what this ought to be, the trick is to time block for this second and third right thing the way we do our one thing. Does this make us overly structured in our days? Perhaps, but that which we don’t prioritize often gets overlooked. We must schedule ourselves lest we forget ourselves.

    So maybe the question shouldn’t be, “what’s the right thing?”, but “what things, accomplished, will make this a day without regrets?” More succinctly, decide what to be and go be it. Of course, everything begins with one. But it shouldn’t end there.

  • Which One Stirs?

    “I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teaching my blood whispers to me.” — Hermann Hesse, Demian

    We all listen to whispers—hints and suggestions and guidance from deep within. We usually don’t act on most of these. Perhaps some seem reckless, or frivolous. Perhaps we don’t like the stretch out of a comfort zone. But now and then we do stretch, and sometimes even leap. The whisper is all we hear at times like this.

    The question isn’t what whispers to us, for there will always be whispers, the question is, which one stirs? We ought to do more of that. Naturally, we already know this. Do you wonder why we ever hear anything else? Or why we choose not to listen to our very own whisper more often?

  • The “I’m Glad I Did” Lens

    “Go live your life. Live it fully, without fear. Live with purpose, give it your all, and never give up.” Effort is important, for without it you will never succeed at your highest level. Achievement is important, for without it you will never experience your true potential. Pursuing purpose is important, for unless you do, you may never find lasting happiness. Step out on faith that these things are true. Go live a life worth living where, in the end, you’ll be able to say, “I’m glad I did,” not “I wish I had.” — Gary Keller, The One Thing

    Without being reckless, what would you have done differently yesterday? How about this year? Who would you spend time with? Where would you linger a beat longer? Where would you have gone if not for the place you stayed instead? What work would you have applied yourself to, worthy of your precious time? In other words, what do you regret leaving off the table in this brief life?

    Perhaps, choose to do it today. Perhaps reach out to that person. Perhaps, linger in the moment when it arrives instead of rushing off to the next urgent thing. Perhaps, book the trip today, while there’s still precious time. Live through the lens of “I’m glad I did” and defer “I wish I had” instead. Be focused. Be intentional. Be bold.

    There is the idea of deathbed regrets. We are all on our deathbed, whether today or a hundred years from now. We ought to feel the urgency in that realization and do something with our time. Through what lens do we view the world? Choose the “I’m glad I did” lens. We probably won’t regret it.

  • The Clear Path

    “We are kept from our goal, not by obstacles but by a clear path to a lesser goal.” — Robert Brault

    I have a work friend who works at a frenetic pace. He’s constantly charging from one thing to the next, in a hyper-reactive state trying to do more than one ought to aspire to in a day. His favorite self-depreciating joke is to turn his head sideways and yell “Squirrel!” and take a step in that direction. In a way that’s exactly what he’s doing with his time. Despite his best intentions, the chase becomes his day, the path always changing in crisis mode. His answer is to work even harder.

    The world wants us to fall in line, to play our part, to belong to something bigger than ourselves. The trouble starts when we aspire to greater things. We might decide what to be and head down the path to being it, but there are so many seemingly urgent distractions along the way. Greater things call to us, but good enough is so very much closer.

    Every day we check the boxes: writing, exercise, flossing, etc. that move us from this to that. Incremental progress isn’t a leap, but it’s progress nonetheless. We are, after all, on the path to our goal. But is it enough? Baby steps aren’t quite a stride, let alone a leap. But it helps if those baby steps go in the direction we’re aiming at. Save the squirrel chase for some other day.

    There’s something to be said for upping the ante. When we aren’t progressing forward quickly enough we may choose to take a leap: Sign up for a 5K, or a writing class in Paris, or make a bet with a friend with stakes high enough to make you uncomfortable (like donating money to a candidate you despise if you don’t hit your goal by a certain date). These stakes aren’t a clear path, but they sure help us focus on it.

    Life flies right on by, whether we chase our dreams or not. We ought to pursue the greater at the expense of the lesser. This begins with ratcheting up those incremental habits to something more like a stride, or even a leap. We’re less likely to stray down a side path when we’re charging along towards our primary goal. Raise the stakes, and the path becomes clear.

  • A Series of Outcomes

    “Perseverance is not a long race; it is many short races one after another.” — Walter Elliot

    “The future we have bet on unfolds as a series of outcomes.” — Annie Duke, Thinking in Bets

    The journey of becoming what’s next never stops, does it? We just move from one version of ourselves to the next, and then the next still, until we reach the end of our days. The trick is to build off each, creating something bigger than our current selves in the process. Life is reinvention and renewal, but it is also fragile and fraught with danger. We must be bold in our choices and tough in our resolve.

    “The thing about life is that you must survive. Life is going to be difficult, and dreadful things will happen. What you do is move along, get on with it, and be tough. Not in the sense of being mean to others, but being tough with yourself and making a deadly effort not to be defeated.”
    ― Katharine Hepburn

    Being hyper-aware of the race we’re currently in is essential to savoring a life well-lived. So too is being hyper-aware of the direction we’re going in, that we might stay on course for who we aspire to be in the next version of ourselves, and the one after that. We must play the long game even as we deal with the cards we’ve been dealt in this hand.

    There is no other way to progress through this life than one step at a time. Sometimes we leap, sometimes we take smaller steps than we’d like. Sometimes we go sideways around an obstacle. But we must feel the urgency of the moment and act. Life is urgent because life is so brief. We simply have no time to lose if we are to reach the places we’ve set our course for. And yet we must take the long view, even as we deal in today. Life is now, with an eye on whatever we can make of then. We must get on with it.