Homeostatic

I spend a lot of time thinking about habits – the good, the bad, the intentional and the wholly accidental.

In my own life, I have become aware of and am addressing my habits of mind that lead me to anxious thoughts and a propensity to becoming overwhelmed. I have removed some habits (okay, maybe removing is more accurate:) ) and added others (such as my daily meditation practice).

At school, I strive to teach the students the good habits of an academic – preparation, questioning and perseverance. I try to coach them to bring a pencil every day (you have no idea how difficult this is with 8th graders!), complete their homework, ask until they understand and to push harder when the work gets tough.

As a wellness coach, I help my clients establish habits that improve the well-being of their minds and bodies. I assist them in identifying their thinking patterns that underlie their choices and I aid them in becoming more aware of their mindless approach towards health and fitness.

Habits themselves are neither good nor bad. They are simply acquired behaviors that are done often and automatically and can be difficult to break. Habits have a purpose; they serve to automate much of the minutiae of life so that our brains are free to attend to novelty. Habits are difficult to break because they often occur below our level of awareness and they are reinforced by the removal of a negative stimulus (ex. relieving anxiety) or the application of a positive stimulus (the taste of that cookie on your tongue).

I spend a lot of time thinking about habits.

But they still have the capacity to surprise me with their tenacity.

My car is approaching its 14th birthday.Β  I had an after market alarm installed within a week of purchase. This alarm came with two identical keypads that, shockingly enough, do not have the staying power of an Acura. Although the car runs fine (knock on wood), the keypads have now both passed on. I suppose I could track down replacements or have another alarm installed, but the car is 14 years old. I really don’t want to put any money in it that is required by the stoic hamsters under the hood.

So, Brock clipped the wires to the alarm. No problem, I thought. I don’t care about the alarm anymore. But I was forgetting something.

Habit.

My doors used to lock automatically after a 30 second delay (mechanics hated this – they used to lock themselves out all the time!). After 14 years, I have become used to this feature. When I exit my car in a safe location (basically home and work), I simply walk away and wait for the car to lock itself.

It doesn’t do that anymore. Now, I have to remember to manually enter a key in the lock and turn. I know, so archaic.

My car key. The ribbon was used by Brock to secure my engagement ring in his pocket on the night he proposed:)
My car key. The ribbon was used by Brock to secure my engagement ring in his pocket on the night he proposed:)

How many times have I remembered since the wires were clipped (sounds like an automotive vasectomy, doesn’t it? πŸ™‚ ) on Saturday? None.

Lisa 0

Habits 5

Damn.

I used to tease my mom about her attempts to remember things and break through habits. She had sticky notes plastered to every available surface as visual reminders. She would place throw pillows right in her morning path to prompt her brain to remember while her body adjusted its path. These were never useful strategies for long. As with anything, she adapted to their presence and their novelty no longer registered.

I came down the stairs to this the other day. I first thought my mom must have put it there. Then I remembered, she's a thousand miles away. It turns out that Tiger pulled it off the couch. Perhaps a reminder to chase squirrels?
I came down the stairs to this the other day. I first thought my mom must have put it there. Then I remembered, she’s a thousand miles away. It turns out that Tiger pulled it off the couch. Perhaps a reminder to chase squirrels?

I used to tease her. But I get it now. I don’t think its so much a loss of memory as we age as the accumulation of habits.

Less is novel.

And more is automatic.

We do as we have done.

Biology uses the term “homeostasis” to describe an organism’s attempt to maintain a state of equilibrium or balance. Our habitual state becomes our equilibrium and we are fighting homeostasis to change those patterns of thought or action.

It’s a difficult battle, but not impossible.

The easiest way to change habits is to piggyback them on other changes. For example, if I had a new car, it would be easier for me to remember that my exit strategy had changed. Or, when my life was in flux from divorce, I could easily add a regular yoga class since it was simply one more change of many.

I’m not suggesting you get divorced just so you can do yoga, however!

So what can you do when you don’t have other change to anchor to?

Start by becoming aware of your habits and their precursors.

Example: I buy a Starbucks on the way to work every day when I drive by a specific location.

Identify the pros and cons of the habit.

Example: Starbucks is yummy and coffee has caffeine, but it is expensive.

Change the circumstances or the precursors.

Example: I drive a new route that does not take me by the Starbucks.

Redesigned logo used from 2011-present.
Redesigned logo used from 2011-present. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Practice relaxation.

Example: The best part of the coffee was the first sip before I walked into work. Instead, I will take a brief mediation in the car to relax.

Identify the challenging situations.

Example: I am most likely to stop when I have not had enough sleep or I am stressed about the day.

Plan alternatives to the habit.

Example: When I am tired, I will bring an extra mug of coffee from home and I will use yoga and meditation to handle the stress.

Create a challenge.

Example: I will commit to an entire Starbucks-free month.

 

 

Just so you know, that is a hypothetical “I” in the above exercise. I love me some Starbucks but I’m too cheap to go there too much! I went through much the same process when I decided to add meditation to my daily life a year ago. Since then, I have been able to create a habit of it; I rarely skip more than a day. It has become part of my homeostasis, my balance. We will always revert. It is impossible to not to fall back on habit, to be completely mindful in every moment. Luckily, we can change what we revert back to by changing those habits and creating a new stasis.

And now, I just need to go through the process with locking my car door. In the meantime, please don’t steal my car. I might have to send Tiger after you!

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A Birthday Message to My Car

birthday message to my car

In a few days, my car will be 13 years old. It is strange how an inanimate object can be tied to so many memories and can act as a benchmark and barometer of life’s major events.

1994-2001 Acura Integra photographed in USA.

I bought my car, a 1999 Acura Integra,Β  when I was 21 years old and 6 months shy of my wedding.Β  I had just moved across the country to join my fiance, who had relocated several months earlier in order to find work.Β  I felt like I was on the precipice of my adult life: I had moved away from my childhood city, I was soon to be married, and I was in the process of making major decisions about school and career.

We were excited to buy the car.Β  We felt adult.Β  We liked signing our names together on the note and on the title.Β  We felt proud of our research and negotiating powers, paying only $300 over cost and we were able to put over half down.Β  I called my mom, excited to tell her about the new purchase.Β  As I described the leather seats, she moaned, “Oh, Lisa,” in a tone that would have been more at home if she had just found out I had gotten a large tattoo.Β  I didn’t care; it was my car and I loved every inch of it.

It really was my car.Β  My ex was a tall man, about 6’1″.Β  A 2-door Integra wasn’t exactly a comfortable fit for him.Β  We used his vehicle (which changed over the years) whenever we went someone together.Β  My car remained mine and mine alone.

In the early months, she was often filled with unique finds to make our apartment feel more like a home.Β  Soon after we married, we purchased a house that we immediately began to remodel.Β  My car was never without a random tile, a leftover tub of spackle, or a paint sample strip as we worked to create our dream house.

When she wasn’t driving to Home Depot, she took me back and forth to school to get my B.S. and then later my master’s.Β  She took me to small jobs as a receptionist and a physical therapy technician before I settled on becoming a teacher. Once my career was set, she had only to carry me 3 miles round trip each day to the middle school down the street.

Even though my ex was rarely in the car, he worked to make it better for me.Β  He pulled off all of the interior of the doors to insert extra insulation to cut the road noise.Β  He replaced the factory stereo with a hand-me-down of his and hard-wired in the XM radio.Β  He took on the repeating task of washing the exterior and vacuuming the inside. He made his mark.

As my car began to age and my ex bought a new car, she began to be the choice transportation for the dogs.Β  I also developed a passion for gardening, and I would frequently fill her to the brim on biannual trips to a local budget nursery.Β  Her carpets still have stray leaves and embedded dog hairs; signs of a life left behind.

My car’s life changed after the divorce also.Β  She had been protected in a garage up until that point.Β  Now, she bears the hail scars and pollen stains of a life lived outside.Β  With the addition of a GPS (a post-divorce gift from a friend), she has led me on adventures, traveling further than she ever had before (with the added security of a AAA card in deference to her advanced age).Β  Her title has changed over the years: first my maiden name and my ex’s name, then my name changed to match his, and now, she is in my name alone.Β  Her plates have changed, reflecting my move across town.

She no longer has the shiny unblemished exterior of her youth.Β  Her leather seats now show cracks from where my legs rub against them (and where my tears fell for many months).Β  Her trunk no longer opens and her antennae often sticks.Β  But that hunk of steel, that has been with me through so much, still runs beautifully.

Today, she yet again carries a dog.Β  I like to think that makes her smile.

So, happy birthday to my car and thank you for carrying me through the bad times and staying through the good.