Why We Fear Habits

Dedicated to the memory of Stephen R. Covey.

It all started with a toothache. Enjoying a lavish all-you-can-eat dinner in the middle of a vacation with my family, I happily chomped into some peel-and-eat shrimp—and discovered I had not peeled as thoroughly as I should have. The result was a sharp pain in one of my molars, that sudden and unexpected kind of pain that scares as much as it hurts, thanks to its uncertain origin.

But in this case, I knew the feeling all too well. This strange toothache likely meant the beginnings of a chipped tooth, a minor dental malady I’d experienced the year before.

My Mom suggested I see the dentist ASAP upon arriving home. I resignedly agreed, reflecting on my decided lack of flossing since my last visit. I have an excellent dentist, and I have made it a sort of personal tradition to try to buoy his faith in mankind by showing for appointments with impeccable flossing habits—the Holy Grail of dentistry. Having kept a dreadful routine of biweekly or—I shudder to admit it—monthly flossing, I felt in no condition to visit the dentist any time soon.

But my Mom replied—and note this well, dear reader, because it is the core of what I have to say here—“Don’t worry. You can accomplish a lot in a little time.” I resolved then and there to floss that very night—which I just did before writing this. I may wake up tomorrow with slightly sore and swollen gums. It will be up to me to work through the initial phase of discomfort and ready myself for my impending dental visit. And if I stick to it, I will be fine. My Mom was right—a lot can be accomplished in just a little time.

We are afraid to revive neglected habits. Why? Because we fear that we will not be able to surpass or even reach our prior achievements. Can the former runner still run that 6-minute mile? Can the high school clarinetist still hit those high notes? Has the history buff forgotten who the 18th President was? It would take a long time to remaster these skills or relearn these fields of information, and always with the looming uncertainty in the background, the question of creeping Doubt: “Could you still be any good?”

The question, though, is irrelevant. People pursue passions because they love them, not just because they are proficient at them. Generally the two go together anyway, but even a rank amateur is still, as G.K. Chesterton pointed out, a “lover” of the thing pursued, because the word “amateur” literally means “lover.”

So if this is your fear, cast it out for the irrelevancy that it is. Perhaps you will only run an 8-minute mile now—but the point is, you’ll be running a mile again! And the same could be said for any revived skill or hobby.

The other fear we often face in reviving an old ability is more absurd, but perhaps even more common: we avoid reviving a habit simply because we fear we might not keep up the habit. Let’s face it, we’ve all been there. We start a habit, it goes well for three days, or maybe a week—and then it all goes down the drain. Something comes up; life gets in the way, as it is wont to do. How is the busy working man or woman supposed to find time to pursue passions?

Hmm. This is a tough conundrum, isn’t it? Well, actually, no. It’s not. There’s a simple solution, and here it is.

Set aside a small amount of time each day (between 5 and 15 minutes) to devote to practicing/building/enhancing/expanding/exercising/refining/reviewing whatever it is that you want to improve. It’s not rocket science, but the two ingredients essential:

1. Small amount of time (5-15 minutes). Less than 5 minutes is so inconsequential as to be nearly pointless, and is easily overlooked or forgotten in a busy schedule. More than 15 minutes begins to be a serious problem for those same busy people. But 15 minutes or less is impossible to refuse. If someone can’t set aside 5 special minutes out of their day, they need to fix their schedule so that they can.

2. Everyday. Fitness guru Jack LaLanne, who died seriously ripped at the age of 96, always insisted that a healthy person work out every day—never miss a workout, even if it has to be a small one. Now for Jack LaLanne, this meant several hours of swimming and weightlifting. For us, it might be a 5 minute jump-rope session, 10 minutes of studying Spanish, or 15 minutes of noodling around on the piano. But the consistency is the point. In his excellent book The Rhythm of Life, Catholic author Matthew Kelly points out that coastlines are changed by daily, repetitive crashings of water against rock. One splash of water, no matter how large, will not reshape an entire coast. Only the reliable, regular waves, rolling in from the deep blue day after day, year after year, century after century, can change the shape of a continent. The force of habit, says Kelly, repeated day after day in a disciplined routine, can have the same effect by reshaping one’s life.

So why worry about dropping a newly-acquired habit? Set a modest goal, and go for it. If you don’t succeed with that, figure out why. If it was a problem of willpower, gather your spirit and try again. If it was a problem of circumstance, address the circumstance or alter the goal.

I believe that the world would be a much greater place if everyone was actively involved in some passionate pursuit of a hobby, skill, sport, art, craft, or otherwise that adds to the world in some way, even if it is just their own world or those the ones closest to them. The human being is a wondrous creation capable of many wondrous things.

So what are you going to start going today? Start a new hobby, or dust off an old one. Give yourself the opportunity you need to, in Stephen Covey’s memorable words, “sharpen the saw.”

Good luck, and God bless you!

Determinedly,

Joezilla

Life's Classroom

One of the greatest things about life is that it offers quiet, whispered lessons every day. It takes a lot of willingness, a bit of inner peace, and a dash of grace to hear these lessons, but I know from experience that they're there for the taking. I offer today as a wonderful example.
I was blessed with a wonderful combination this morning: beautiful weather, crackling enthusiasm, and a large chunk of free time. Accordingly, I was able to spend a few minutes raking dead grass in the yard—and, I must add, enjoying the nature! All this would have been great, but God topped it all off with some wonderful inspirations. These are those little lessons I'm talking about. I hope you enjoy them, as well.

First, I realized as I raked that happiness comes with habits. Let me be clear here. We can all have a happy moment (for instance, winning the Lottery) or a happy experience (like a dinner with old friends). This is happiness as a feeling. True happiness, what I like to call deep happiness, is more of a trait that we can nurture or neglect, much like a muscle or a skill. Happiness must be exercised. Inner peace must be a goal. This starts with physical relaxation (not sitting in an easy chair, but striving for relaxed and unhurried motion in daily life--eliminating unnecessary tension in the body), but it also requires other work, both inside and out. Gratitude must be clung to like a lifesaver, because that is precisely what it is. G.K. Chesterton wisely observed that "Thanks are the highest form of thought." Acts of service should make visible the love we have for those in our lives. Of course, there's much more, but what I realized today was that happiness, like all good things (and some really bad ones!) requires habitual action.

The second lesson was about excess—and, if I may be bold, the nature of God. I was struck by the vibrant brightness of the day out there. The sky was not just blue, it was an insanely deep, bright, fall-into-it-if-you-stare-at-it-too-long kind of blue. The evergreens weren't just green, they were a glowing, smiling, healthy, look-at-me sort of green. The birds were boisterously chirping in some great treetop debate that somehow involved the whole neighborhood. The whole of nature seemed so happy. I was filled with inner peace.

But that's the strange part--this scene was anything but peaceful on the outside. My eyes were buffeted with light and color, my ears were filled with wind and cheep-cheeps. But it soothed my spirit. Why? Well, I think it's because our God is not one of moderation. Moderation is an earthly concept, and a blessed one--it frees us from the captivity of our humanity, allowing us to set our sights on something higher than our animal impulses and desires. Moderation is one of our greatest defenses against evil. But once this life is over, moderation, I think, will be a thing of the past. If Heaven is placement in a divine family typified by perfect Love, who needs to be moderate there? I think Heaven will be excess, in the best sense of the word--God's love filling each member of the Kingdom to a degree that is now unfathomable to our mortal minds. For now, all we can do is marvel at the blue skies He sends us.

The final insight came from a quick climb of a tree. Ascending about 25 feet into the air, I was treated to an unusual perspective on the surrounding neighborhood. Seeing the trees, houses, and particularly the street from such an unusual angle flipped a switch in the back of my mind, and reminded me just how amazing everything really looks. The smooth curves of the road, expertly planned by some engineer decades ago, jumped out at me in a way I never appreciated while driving them. The houses, too, looked novel and fascinating from this unorthodox altitude.

Although I soon lost sight of this valuable perspective-shift, I remembered it while driving later in the day--and that strange elevated view of the road came back to my mind; suddenly, I was no longer just driving back from school, but instead driving on a strange and fascinating trip to a wonderful destination. That physical shift in perspective reminded me to appreciate all experience as unique. I'm indebted again to G.K. Chesterton, who said that "Every instant of conscious life is an unimaginable marvel." How true, indeed!

See what a little sunshine can do? =)

Happily,

Joezilla

Face to Face With Life

Face to face with life. That's what it said. Face to face with life. Just a little advertising motto written on the travel agency's pen. But those words carried a lot of power in that moment.

Face to face with life. What does that mean? What is it like to be face to face with life? I'll tell you--it's to look at things squarely. It's to experience life directly and vividly, the way we were designed to experience it. How many days have you finished and wondered--wow, did I really just let this day pass me by? How many days have you been too out-of-it to even ask the question?

It's also to be honest with yourself about what's going on in your world, and what other people are doing and feeling, too. We see enough to understand all we need to understand. Other people's words and actions, on the whole, reflect what they are feeling. But we often don't go deep enough when we're thinking about other people; we often jump to one conclusion and cling to it like a rubber band. When you're face to face with life, you realize that you don't know a whole lot. You can't accurately diagnose why people are acting or feeling the way they are--but if you are attentive to them, you are aware of what they're feeling. And if you're committed to becoming the best person you can be, what does this awareness make you want to do?

That is what is most amazing, what I discovered when I made the commitment; then and there seeing that wonderful pen, I realized that getting face to face with life causes compassion.

Suppose this: someday, someone is acting lukewarm toward you, and it makes you wonder if you've done something to anger or offend them. This is the ego coming in (the ego always comes in when problems arise), because you actually have no grounds to assume this.

But oftentimes we do assume things like this, and it leads to so much unnecessary strife. Think about that person a little more. Something is certainly bothering them, that much is clear. But look at life squarely! You don't know the real answer--and instead of wondering how you might have caused his low spirits, why don't you try to make him feel better? A kind word, if it's real and from the heart, goes a long, long way. Think about it.

Face to face with life! How cool is that? Think deeply, then act deeply. Face to face with life. You know, I've never been one to have a motto, but this simple yet startling phrase is sorely tempting me to adopt it as one.

Random Thoughts

Once again borrowing a page from the book of Thomas Sowell, I present several "Random Thoughts." These are neither as political or as entertaining as his, but they are certainly random; their status as thoughts may be justifiably contested by the reader:

1. I was taught to examine life and learn from it, that daily experiences are not isolated events that fade into the past, but connected lessons in the School of Human Experience—which will teach us volumes if we are willing to pay attention. This perspective comes with a price. It's quite a bit like exercise: it demonstrates our limits every time. The daily challenges of life have a way of highlighting our weakness in bright colors, of pointing out what we did wrong and showing us what would have been the best action to take (hindsight is 20/20, after all). But the practice of examining life's challenges for lessons also is like exercise in this simple and striking fact: provided we don't place undue stress on ourselves, each struggle makes us stronger. And knowing that makes us thankful for trials.

2. The only man more formidable than him with nothing to lose is him with something to fight for.

3. Of all ebriosity, who does not prefer to be intoxicated by the air he breathes? (Henry David Thoreau)

That is all.

Good day!

Joezilla

Gratia Vitae

Gratia Vitae

When consequence is shirked again,

the future is ignored,

adversity sets in and then

temptation sends its horde.

Life and death are set before us—

choices clearly riven—

and here in culture’s vacuum lies

the gift of Life, ungiven.

Death does not become a land

so chivalrous and free,

so give us love and understanding:

as Thou art, so we.

And spare us, Lord, the tragic pain

of mother and child riven,

and will that nevermore we hold

the gift of Life ungiven.

to those whom culture sold its lie,

direct our hands and heart;

and to the souls whose choice is nigh,

Your wisdom please impart.

And spare Us, Lord, the tragic pain

of Mother and child riven,

and welcome us into Your heart,

where gifts of Life are given.

Someday peace will march through town

to songs of drum and fife…

and joyful shall the call ring out:

Give thanks to God for Life!