Back at the beginning of the year, I proposed a challenge for 2015 – Prove yourself wrong:
I’ve never been much of a fan of resolutions. Perhaps it’s because I see the bodies flock to the gym every January only to be back on their respective couches by Valentine’s Day. Or I see the impassioned declarations about eating clean shared publicly on Facebook and I spy a doughnut in the poster’s hand before the month is out. I get it. Change is hard. And in order for change to occur, you have to be ready. And that may not correspond neatly with the dawning of the new year.
Which is why I like to offer up a little twist on the traditional resolutions.
-Examine your thoughts for traces of “always” or “never;” those words usually indicate an underlying stereotype or assumption. Find a counterexample.
-Sift through your responses to people and claims. Look for those topics that make you defensive. That’s a sign that you think you can’t handle some truth. Prove that you can.
It’s so easy to operate within a prison of possibilities built by our own limiting thoughts.
This is your year to break through.
Prove yourself wrong.
Remember, I’ll be checking up on you:)
Now here we are. Six weeks later. Over forty days and countless opportunities to prove yourself wrong.
So have you?
I proved myself wrong just yesterday. I’m probably the world’s worst napper (just ask my mother, who had to survive my infancy). When I was tired and sluggish yesterday afternoon, the idea of a nap sounded appealing, but then I shut down the idea with the though, “You know you can never manage to nap.”
And I became determined to prove myself wrong. To tell that internal limiting voice to shove it so that I could sleep.
And sleep I did.
With only the slightest amount of guilt for “wasting” part of a Sunday afternoon.
It felt wonderful not only to rest, but also to prove myself wrong.
What have you done in the past 6 weeks that you thought you could not do?
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. 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:)
How many times have I remembered since the wires were clipped (sounds like an automotive vasectomy, doesn’t it? 🙂 ) 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 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. (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!
I now know what is going on my “book” board for at least the rest of this week – “Breaking Bad” (sticking with the “B” theme:) ). The boyfriend and I watched seasons 1-3 last winter on Netflix and we are now watching the reruns of Season 4 on AMC in order to be properly prepared for the final season which begins this weekend. I love the acting, the drama, and the complex story lines, but I mainly find the show compelling for its psychology. I feel like it gives me a glimpse into the path that can take good people and break them into bad. It gives me a window into my ex-husband.
(This post will have some general spoilers, but obviously nothing past Season 3!)
Walt, the primary character, is a 50-something high school chemistry teacher when he is diagnosed with a brain tumor. At first, he seems likable, normal even. He is even-tempered and family-focused, a sharp contrast from what he becomes. So what goes wrong? He starts off slowly enough. His first deception is to try to conceal his diagnosis while undergoing treatment, presumably to shield his pregnant wife from the stress of his cancer. This lie has a relatively short life as the effects of the disease become apparent, yet the precedent has been set.
Shortly thereafter, when the financial burdens of the treatment become too high for the family bear, Walt again turns to falsehoods when he pretends to accept money from a family friend but really begins manufacturing meth. This time, the origins of the lie are not so rose-colored. Walt refuses the money offered out of pride. He was looking out for his family, but he wanted to be the one in control. Unlike the first lie, which was made to protect others, this one was made to shelter his own ego.
After beginning a life of crime, not surprisingly, the lies mounted. His family had no knowledge of his secret profession and he had to tread carefully in order to keep them in the dark. Not surprisingly, his relationship with his wife suffered as he had to distance himself to keep her from discovering his secrets. Lying became a habit for Walt. No one knew all his secrets; he sequestered different pieces in his different lives.
You can see the tension catching up with him at the same time the lies gain traction. It’s a vicious cycle – his sense of right and wrong diminishes with each lie, which leads to more appalling behaviors and actions, which then have to be concealed with more lies. He’s in free fall and cannot halt his descent.
As the seasons continue, his family is drawn in as well. They each become aware of some of the deceit and they begin to tell lies of their own to protect him. Deception effects everyone around you. The whole show is like some demented Rube Goldberg machine – you can pretty much tell how it’s going to end, but it isn’t clear how one piece influences the next until it is set into its unstoppable motion.
Machiavelli claimed that “the ends justify the means.” Walt seems to think in reverse; “the original intent justifies the means.” I’m not sure those caught in the webs of his lies would agree and they all spiral towards their ends.
As far as I know, my husband never had a brain tumor, manufactured meth, or taught high school chemistry, but I see some of him in Walt’s character. Like Walt, I think my husband first lied out of fear and wanting to protect me. I think he was also trying to shield his ego from the realities of a failing business. The lies fed themselves and became ingrained. It was his way of being and he took others along for the ride. He lied to try to dodge the repercussions of his choices and his actions.
But eventually, the truth came out. And truth always has consequence.
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 