The full collection of explorations.
While working out, I think about how I don’t want to workout.
When I don’t workout, I think about how I should’ve worked out.
The first burns ~60 minutes of thinking from my day.
The latter burns closer to ~600 minutes.
Get it?
Now go get done what you know needs to get done.
With the possibility of a 10x return on your investment, you’d be crazy not to.
“The MOST IMPORTANT feature of a sustainable habit: You don’t hate doing it.”
Mark Palmer, Twitter
This doesn’t mean you have to love doing each of your daily habit tasks, just that you don’t hate doing them—there’s a difference.
Moving even one tick back from “miserable” to “don’t like it,” can remarkably lengthen your habit’s lifespan and prevent you from burning out altogether.
Like when you move one tick back from “red zone” to “yellow zone” while running. That minor pace adjustment can give your legs a major boost in life. And you’ll last far longer than you ever would’ve if you stayed in “red.”
While “red” is what moves you fast, “yellow” is what takes you far.
This is how I approach all sustainable habits. Fast isn’t what I’m after—far is what I want. The question I often ask myself is, “How can I make this more like an enjoyable run and less like an all out sprint?”
And I move things a tick back wherever I find myself in “red.” Similarly, I move things a tick forward wherever I find myself in a “green.” Because being in “green,” of course, doesn’t take you anywhere far or fast. It keeps you comfortable where you are.
And even though I don’t like being uncomfortable, I make sure that what I’m doing never makes me miserable. Because not only is “miserable” bad for the run—it’s bad for all future runs! And if you want to go far, going in misery is no way to go.
Sun always shines Earth may have turned Or clouds moved between But don’t confuse all dark with no sun Sun always shines Light in you always shines Though backs may turn Or moods may fog Don’t confuse all dark with no light Light in you always shines Building happens better in the light Don’t settle so quick for habits of the night While it may seem no end’s in sight And that life may only be squinting and strife Be patient Building happens better in the light Backs, as Earth, will rotate once more Clouds, as mind, will clear like before And what you will realize Is that light, while obstructed, was never that far The light in you was always shining As bright as before
When we confront challenges in life, it’s in our nature to seek the path of least resistance and to look for ways we can make those challenges easier.
One such method is by dumping our challenges on other people. Because if someone else will confront the challenge for us, who is presumably stronger, why not let them? (1) They’re stronger and (2) it’ll be easier for us! Well, this is precisely why we shouldn’t.
While it’s quite admirable that someone would do such a kind thing for another, here’s what we have to remember: borrowing strength builds weakness.
People who confront other people’s challenges for them become nothing more than a “crutch.” And while being a crutch is okay when someone is really broken—like how crutches are used to rehab a broken leg—at a certain point we have to take the crutches away. If we don’t, the muscles will continue to atrophy and weaken.
The challenge is precisely what’s needed for growth.
Likewise, at some point, we have to stop seeking “crutches” and stop being other people’s “crutch.” We have to bear the full weight of the consequences associated with our actions. It’s the only way we’ll ever build up the strength we desire so badly to have.
Information comes into our brains one word at a time, one sound at a time, one touch at a time, one image at a time, one frame at a time—one drip at a time.
And our brains are filled with sponges that capture those drips. What’s cool about the sponges of our mind is that they grow or shrink based on demand.
For example, the sponge that holds self-improvement information in my mind is simply gigantic because I’m constantly dripping information into it. My obsession loads the sponge to maximum capacity and so it grows to account for that demand.
But, the sponge that holds calculus information, however, is teeny-tiny because I never drip anything into it. The sponge is dry and continues to shrivel up each day because I don’t drop anything into it—and I’m okay with that.
Here’s why this is important: (1) The sponges you drip information into will grow; (2) the sponges you don’t drip anything into will shrink; (3) you can only wring information out of a sponge that has had enough dripped into it.
Are the drops of information that you’re soaking in every day getting added to sponges that you actually want to grow or sponges that you’d actually prefer shriveled up? How much information do you have packed in your brain from Keeping Up With The Jones’? What drip adjustments do you think you could make?
Finally, are you trying to wring out a dry sponge or is your sponge soaked with information?
Keep in mind that once your sponge hits capacity, it will start to leak information in that domain naturally—as it grows and in real-time. People can sense when you’re forcing/wringing/squeezing information from a dry sponge. And they can also tell when it’s legitimately soaked, dense, and overflowing.
Soak the right sponges. Soak more than you wring. Let the drip come naturally.
…You don’t.
People can’t be changed.
They can only choose to change themselves.
What you can do is influence them to choose to change.
What that doesn’t mean: force your influence down their throat.
What that looks like: unsolicited advice; ceaselessly checking to see if they’re following your advice; becoming emotionally invested in their choices.
What unforced influence looks like: living your best life; sharing what you learn with those interested along the way; letting people do with your advice what they may—and not taking any decision(s) personally.
Here’s the thing: other people aren’t yours to change.
Let them choose to live how they may—it’s their life.
The only person you should ever be trying to change is yourself.
Which is, paradoxically, exactly how you best change others.
Imagine watching a movie where the main character is born into a nice family, grows up in a nice neighborhood, enjoys nice experiences, goes to a nice school, gets a nice job, settles down with a nice family—THE END.
No drama. No problems. No conflict.
No creative thinking. No problem solving. No hero journey.
Just one nice scene after the next. One easy step forward after the next. Only happiness, smiles, and victories—and no sadness, depth, or challenge.
Can you think of any such movie? I can’t. And here’s why: they don’t get produced. Why? Because they’re bland. But, also because movies like this are further from the human experience than even the most fantastical sci-fi movies.
If there’s one common goal that all movies share, it’s to evoke an emotional response. And the best way to remove that response is to make everything drama/problem/conflict-free; by flatlining the ebbs and flows; by making everything, just, nice.
The drama is precisely what draws us in—because our lives are dramatic. The problems are what captivate our attention—because our lives are filled with problems. And sharing that experience of drama, problems, conflict—even with fictional characters—is what connects us to the greater experience of being human.
If I were to sit down and watch a playback movie of your life, would you want me to only see the highlight reel of your life? Or would you want me to see what you had to overcome in order to earn your highlight reel? Victory isn’t as sweet without loss. Accomplishment isn’t as meaningful without challenge. The “highs” aren’t as appreciated without the “lows.”
Remember this the next time you confront drama, problems, and conflict—it’s your chance to add some depth, contrast, and feeling to the movie of your life.