Better Than Before: Mastering the Habits of Our Everyday Lives (12 page)

By examining these moments of transition, we can make small changes that yield big benefits.

I pay a lot of attention to
starting
—and also to
stopping
. Because taking the first step is so important, and often so difficult, I try not to falter in my steps once I've started. But any change can trigger a stop: bad weather, work travel, vacation, illness, a new boss, a new baby, a change in a child's schedule, a new home, someone else's stopping (a coworker can no longer go for a lunchtime run). If I stop, I have to take that very first step all over again—and I very well may not do it.

Stopping halts momentum, breeds guilt, makes us feel bad about losing ground, and, worst of all, breaks the habit so that the need for decision making returns—which demands energy, and often results in making a bad decision.

Stopping is a particular problem with the habit of exercise, and for this reason, my yoga instructor doesn't let people stop. He gives a lot of private instruction, and many of his clients leave town in the summer. “People tell me, ‘I'm stopping for the summer, but I'll call you when I get back in September,' ” he told me. “I say, ‘No, you're not stopping. I'm canceling these certain appointments, but you're still in my schedule, and I'll see you at the usual time on September 4. If you can't make it that day, we'll reschedule.' ”

“That way, they don't feel like they're stopping?”

“Right. If they stop, they might not start, but this way, they never do ‘stop.' ”

Along the same lines, when Lori, my trainer at the strength-training gym, left the gym, I switched to another trainer without hesitation. However, many of my friends also trained with Lori, and I discovered that for several of them, Lori's departure was a “stopping” point. Again and again, I heard, “I just don't want to train with anyone but Lori.” And I noticed that this feeling seemed stronger among people who were more reluctant to visit a gym.

One friend told me, “I don't want to go if Lori is gone. I'd like to do some different kind of exercise anyway, just for a change. I'm going to find something else.”

Now, this is a friend I know
very well
—well enough to be very skeptical of this plan. She'll ski, play tennis, hike, and swim, but she hates regular “exercise.” Nevertheless, she'd managed to form the habit of strength training.

“You're going to find exercise you like better than this—once a week for twenty minutes, no shower, no music, no mirrors? Like
what
?” I pressed. “It seems like a bad idea to let yourself stop this habit before you're well started on something else.”

I saw her several weeks later. “What did you do about strength training?” I asked.

“Oh, you're right,” she said with a sigh. “I have to find something new before I quit. Anyway, I worked out with a new trainer, and it was fine.”

The fact is, while some habits are almost unbreakable, some habits remain fragile, even after years. We must guard against anything that might weaken a valuable habit. Every added link in the chain strengthens the habit—and any break in the chain marks a potential stopping point.

For many people, don't-break-the-chain is a powerful strategy—for the same reason that some people want to get the attendance award in grade school. It's very satisfying to have a perfect record.
Comedian Jerry Seinfeld advised
aspiring comedian Brad Isaac that, because daily writing was the key to writing better jokes, Isaac should buy a calendar with a box for every day of the year, and every day, after writing, cross off the day with a big red X. “After a few days you'll have a chain,” Seinfeld explained. “You'll like seeing that chain, especially when you get a few weeks under your belt. Your only job next is to not break the chain.”

A friend told me, “I got in a bad habit of blowing off our three-times-a-week staff meeting. Most of the meeting is irrelevant to me, but often I did miss a few key points. After one particularly bad situation, I made a rule: I'd never miss a single staff meeting. Now I want to keep my perfect record.”

Upholders find this chain approach very satisfying, because they love to cross items off a to-do list. Questioners find it useful if they expect to find it useful; otherwise, they won't bother with it. Rebels resist the notion of the chain—and just the name “chain” explains why. They want to choose an action each time and generally won't bind themselves. For some Obligers, the chain approach is helpful, if they develop a feeling of accountability to the chain itself. These Obligers may need a form of external accountability to get the chain started, but once it's under way, they often can keep it going out of a sense of obligation.

No matter what our Tendency, when faced with an unavoidable stopping point—such as a long trip or a summer break—it helps to commit to a specific day to jump back into the habit, as my yoga instructor requires. Something that can be done at
any
time often happens at
no
time, and waiting vaguely for the right time to start again is very risky. (Starting
tomorrow
usually sounds like a good plan.) But the more tomorrows go by, the more intimidating it becomes to take that first step back.

Another reason to avoid stopping a good habit is that, sadly, starting
again
is often far harder than starting the
first time
. It's natural to think, “Oh, I did this before, it will be easy to do it again,” but often it's
much harder
to start again. True, taking that first step the first time around can be hard, but there's also a special energy and optimism to launching a new habit. When I've tried to summon up the same energy for restarting a lapsed habit, it hasn't worked very well. The novelty has worn off, I've remembered all the reasons I struggle with that habit, and it's discouraging to feel myself backsliding.

A friend told me, “I quit drinking for a month, and I really enjoyed the challenge. When the month was up, I started drinking again, as I'd planned to do. After a while, I thought it would be good to give up alcohol again for another month. I expected it to be easy because it had been easy the first time, but I couldn't do it again. It wasn't the same.”

“Indefinitely”—or even worse, “forever”—is where habit change becomes intimidating. Often, with our good habits,
there is no finish line
. We can imagine taking those first steps but become overwhelmed at the prospect of never stopping. Am I going to meditate
forever
?

It's one thing to resist a single major temptation, or to make a brief, heroic effort during a Blast Start, or even to train for a marathon or to give up chocolate for a year, but to trudge along with a good habit,
forever
, can feel too demanding. It requires a surrender—an acceptance of the way we must live to abide by our own values.

Persisting with a habit can be particularly hard when the habit doesn't yield flashy results. While there's the satisfaction of knowing that I'm doing what's good for me and holding myself to my intentions, rarely do I achieve glorious outcomes. I've found, however, that if I can get through this dry period, the habit truly takes over and proves itself by making my life better than before.

I'd been wondering whether I should drop the habit of meditation because it seemed pointless. Then, for the first time, it seemed as though it might be making a difference. Late one night, I was ruminating about various disagreeable moments from my day, and the longer I lay awake, the angrier I got at the thought of how much sleep I was losing. Then I envisioned my most helpful meditation image: snow falling on Bethesda Fountain in Central Park. It sort of worked. So I decided to stick to the meditation habit, at least for now. Or rather, I decided not to make a decision about it.

Habits are the behaviors that I want to follow forever, without decisions, without debate, no stopping, no finish lines. Thinking about
forever
can be intimidating, so the one-day-at-a-time concept helps many people stick to their good habits. A friend told me, “I remind myself, ‘What I'm eating now isn't necessarily forever, it's just for right now,' and that helps me stick to it. One day at a time—even though I do plan to eat this way forever.”

Again, this is where deciding-not-to-decide comes to the rescue. I don't revisit my habits. I just think, “This is what I'm doing today.” Trust the habit. I take that first step, over and over and over.

There is no creature whose inward being is so strong that it is not greatly determined by what lies outside it.

—George Eliot,
Middlemarch

A
ny
beginning
is a time of special power for habit creation, and at certain times we experience a Clean Slate, in which circumstances change in a way that makes a fresh start possible—if we're alert for the opportunity.

Many people deliberately use the New Year or their birthdays as a Clean Slate, but it can take many forms. The slate may be wiped clean by a change in personal relationships: marriage, divorce, a new baby, a new puppy, a breakup, a new friend, a death. Or the slate may be wiped clean by a change in surroundings: a new apartment, a new city, even rearranged furniture. Or some major aspect of life may change: a new job, a new school, a new doctor. A lawyer friend told me, “As a single parent, I've always felt a duty to maximize my earnings. Last year, my son graduated, and I realized, ‘I've paid my last tuition payment. He's grown up. Now what am I working for?' It was like a whole new world of possibilities opened up.” Sometimes a major change leads to a clean slate, but even a minor change can be sufficient—a change as seemingly insignificant as taking a different route to work, or watching TV in a different room.

Even an unhappy change can be a chance for a fresh start. A reader posted on my blog: “My husband died in November. I've always been introverted, and while I love people, I found socializing tiring. But after losing my husband, I was worried about depression and loneliness, so I made a
ton
of social plans. I knew people would understand if I cancelled, and I thought that having lots of people around would be smart. Six months later, I still make plans to do something social almost every day. It's a striking change, and it's really working for me.”

Another aspect of the Strategy of the Clean Slate? There's a magic to the beginning of anything. We want to begin right, and a good start feels auspicious. Anytime I'm trying to work on a habit, I make sure to follow it on Monday, because if I start my week feeling in control and virtuous, I'm more likely to maintain that good habit.

We can take steps to heighten the sense of possibility, of newness—the luxury of untracked snow or a new carton of eggs—afforded by the clean slate. One person might begin an important habit in a place that's very beautiful, such as at a grand hotel or on the beach at sunset; another person might make an extravagant gesture, such as putting a hammer through a TV screen or cutting up credit cards; another person might transform a home or office by painting the walls and buying new furniture. I talked to a woman who marks the clean slate of the new year in a very literal way by tossing out everything in her fridge, right down to the mustard and pickles. As an underbuyer, I was a bit shocked by this, but when I pressed her to explain, all she could say was “I want to start fresh.”

The clean slate moment is easy to overlook, however, and too often we don't recognize that some fresh start is triggering a habit change. Because we're creatures of habit, the first marks on that slate often prove indelible. We should start the way we want to continue.

In the first few days after we moved to a new apartment, I started my work day with an hour of email and social media—and bam! this habit locked into my day with iron strength. Whether or not it's the best habit to follow, I wouldn't be able to change it now without terrific effort. In college, where I sat on the first day of class determined where I sat for the rest of the semester. I now pay very close attention to the first few times I do anything because I know those decisions will shape my baseline habits; to deviate from them will feel like a deprivation or an imposition.

The Strategy of the Clean Slate can help us launch a new habit with less effort. During law school, I would have declared it impossible to wake up and go to the gym. But without consciously considering the clean slate, when I started a clerkship, I made the gym part of my daily routine. From my first day on the job, I went to the gym before work. It wasn't easy, even with a clean slate, but if I'd waited a month—or even a week—to start this routine, it would've felt much more burdensome. I would've thought, how can I possibly get up earlier, work out, shower away from home, dress at the gym, and walk ten blocks to my judge's chambers, before 9:00?

A workaholic friend told me that she was starting a new job and wanted to work more reasonable hours than she had at her last job.

“Use the Strategy of the Clean Slate,” I suggested. “Decide when you think you should leave the office and start the habit of leaving at that time every night for the first week. That will set your habits going forward.”

“Leaving about 6:30 or 7:00 sounds good to me, but I think I'll want to stay later during my first week, to get settled in.”

“Don't you think you're likely to continue the way you start?” I pointed out. “Decide what you want your habit to be and discipline yourself to walk out the door at that time, right from the beginning. It's not going to get
easier
to leave
,
you're not going to
have
less work do after six months than you do on the first day.”

I know how tight the grip of habit can be, and my friend was still, mentally, in the habit of leaving at 9:00. But if she didn't use the clean slate to start over, she was unlikely to shake that habit.

It's a Secret of Adulthood: What we assume will be temporary often becomes permanent; what we assume is permanent often proves temporary.

It's a shame not to exploit the power of the Strategy of the Clean Slate when it presents itself. For instance, the time of
moving
introduces so much upheaval into our customary habits that change becomes far easier. In one study of people trying to make a change—such as changes in career or education, relationships, addictive behaviors, or health behaviors including dieting—
36 percent of successful changes
were associated with a move to a new place. Another study found that if students wanted to watch less TV and exercise more, they changed habits more easily after a switch to a new university. A blog reader commented, “My family is about to purchase a new home. In previous moves, I've made the mistake of thinking that I'd magically change my old cluttering habits just because I'd be living in a new place and making a fresh start. The problem was, I didn't understand exactly what I was doing that allowed the clutter to accumulate, and I didn't have a plan for preventing it. This time we're trying to prepare first by cleaning out and by planning ahead for the new habits, to avoid falling into the same old traps.”

Even a temporary move or a trip can act as a clean slate. My father told me, “Quitting smoking was the hardest thing I've ever done. But right after I quit, I went on a business trip to Micronesia for ten weeks, and that made it easier.” All his old habits were disrupted, and the flood of new impressions helped to keep the thought of cigarettes at bay.

As I'd told my workaholic friend, the Clean Slate of a new job is a good time to enforce a new habit. One guy told me how he managed to change his email habits: “For years, I'd been drowning in email. I switched jobs, and ever since I got that new email address, I've forced myself to get to inbox-zero every night: I answer, delete, or file
every single
email for the day. I could never have caught up with the emails for my old job,” he explained, “but I could start fresh.”

Sometimes a clean slate takes us by surprise. For instance, my mother has always had a very strong sweet tooth. A few years ago, she caught a terrible stomach flu, and when she at last recovered, she found that she'd lost her craving for sweets. It would have been easy for her to slip back into her former eating habits, but fortunately, she realized that she had a clean slate, and although her sweet tooth returned, she has avoided eating sweets ever since.

While the clean slate offers tremendous opportunity for forming new habits, it can disrupt a person's existing good habits by eliminating a useful cue or breaking up a positive routine. Routines are chains of habits, and when just one seemingly insignificant link weakens, it can disrupt the entire habit chain. For instance, research shows that people are more likely to alter their buying habits—often without noticing—when they're experiencing a major life change, such as marriage, divorce, career change, or having someone join or leave the household. Eating habits may also shift at times of significant change.
Marriage and divorce can affect people's weight
, especially after age thirty: for women, the risk of a large weight gain comes after marriage, for men, after divorce. One blog reader wrote: “I've always been a regular exerciser, but once my son started taking the bus to school, I stopped. Why? Because my routine was to drop him off at school, then go right to the gym. It was an ingrained habit. When he stopped taking the bus, the trigger was gone.” Someone else wrote: “We're a military family who moves every few years. That means I have to be very careful about sticking to my good habits, even when everything keeps changing around me. It's really hard.”

It can be surprisingly hard to recognize when change threatens to wipe the slate clean—another reason why Monitoring is helpful. When we monitor, we notice as soon as a good habit becomes disrupted.

Studying the power of the Stategy of the Clean Slate made me want to harness it for my own benefit. But how? No major aspect of my life was likely to change soon—or if something did change, it would likely be for the worse. I didn't anticipate having a clean slate in my family, my work, my apartment, or my neighborhood. I wished I could think of a way to start something new.

Eight years ago, I started my blog, and the clean slate it provided was enormously satisfying. Because I'd decided to post six days a week, the blog had an enormous effect on my daily habits: I had to master the mechanics of blogging; I had to write and publish a piece every day; I had to adopt the habit of reaching out to other people; and because I post a weekly video, I had to adopt the habit of making videos. I met new people, learned new skills, and increased the amount of writing I did every day.

That clean slate had been terrific. But what could I do now? One idea: get a dog. Jamie and my daughters would love to have a dog, and people get so much happiness from dogs—and they do tend to foster good habits. But I can't even manage to take care of a houseplant. These days, in the rush hour of life, I didn't want the added responsibility and time commitment required by a dog (because I wasn't going to kid myself, all the unpleasant tasks of dog ownership would fall to me). So no. No dog.

Could I join a new group? Joining a group is a clean slate of relationships. It's a way to enter a new social scene and, often, an area of learning. Every time I've joined a group, I've made new friends, gained knowledge, and had fun. Again, however, I felt pressed for time. I'd reached my limit for extracurriculars, if I wanted to have enough time for my family and my work.

My opportunities to use the Strategy of the Clean Slate seemed limited—but maybe I was just falling prey to inertia and lack of imagination. Surely I could find a way to make a new beginning.

In the end, I couldn't think of a dramatic clean slate, so I decided to try something simple—very simple—to invoke its power. I cleared and rearranged Eleanor's room and gave away many toys that she'd outgrown. Though I felt wistful as I packed up her Fisher-Price farm and My Little Pony Castle (I took photos to help us remember them), I discovered that the big pile of give-away boxes gave me a shot of energy and cheer. If I kept my eyes open, I'd surely find some additional opportunities for a clean slate.