About a year ago I was obsessed with developing the perfect habits.
I wanted to write more, meditate, work out, and sleep well.
My goal was to lead a happy and productive life, and I wanted it all at once. I devoured articles, books, and blog posts about developing sustainable habits. I even wrote briefly about my journey to create the ideal morning routine.
And for a while, this worked. Every morning I would wake up early, do something physical, sit still for five minutes, write a few words in Evernote, and eat a quick breakfast. The routine felt a bit rushed and compartmentalized, but at least I was doing everything I wanted to do.
At least that’s what I told myself.
But then things changed. I went on vacation for a couple weeks, and it became difficult to resume my old routine when I returned. Shortly thereafter, I took a new job with a longer commute, and everything went out the window. All the behaviors I had worked so hard to form into “habits” were now disrupted by a 45 minute train ride each morning.
I guess they weren’t so habitual, after all.
After about nine months of “settling in” to my new commute, I had resumed exactly zero of my previous daily habits. At this point I came to grips with the truth—There must be something wrong with the way I approached getting things done. I wasn’t able to successfully reclaim behaviors that had previously been high priorities, which meant a change was likely needed.
My fatal flaw was that I was trying to force fit everything into a nice little framework. Because I’m a morning person, I felt the best approach was to create a repeatable routine that would allow me to accomplish everything back-to-back, immediately after waking up. I failed to take into account the very real switching costs that come with stacking so many behaviors immediately after one another. Coupled with the inherent stress of a daily commute, it’s not hard to see how certain activities could be relegated to the “I’ll do it later” bucket of daily tasks.
Now I’m trying out a new approach.
Rather than cramming everything I want to do into my “most productive hours,” instead I’m simply focusing on doing the things I want to do every day. My list of behaviors haven’t changed, but the way I account for them has become far more relaxed.
Is it time to work out?
Go to the gym.
Did I write today?
Then write.
Oops, I forgot to meditate yesterday.
Then meditate right now.
Just ACT. Get things done. Do the thing your insides are gnawing at you to do.
That’s all I focus on these days.
I’m not worried about crafting perfectly sustainable habits, or whether or not my “30 day streak” was interrupted. The way I see it, if I really want to get these things done I’ll do them. I’ll find time for them in a way that works best for me long-term, and the habits will form organically around those behaviors.
It’s a lot less stressful for me to approach things this way. If I want to see myself as someone who writes, then I need to write. If I’m interested in the benefits of mediation, then I need to sit still every day. It’s as simple as that.
So instead of overthinking my habits and routines, I’m going to keep this up. My conscience is the ultimate accountability partner—it knows when I’m not living up to my end of the bargain. The next time I feel lazy, or tired, or like a fraud, there’s only one phrase I need to tell myself.
Do the thing.