Day 11: Showing up
This is the day in my 31-day challenge that I was hoping would come later: the day I wrote about the writing. I knew it would come. I was just hoping it would be on the back half.
I’ve written every day except one (Monday). But even with my head start, here I am, writing this in real time. Some pieces just took more than a day; other pieces I’m holding. I’m not “blocked,” but I don’t have time to tackle most of what’s on my topic list.
My schedule is off this week. Leila is in Aspen with her mom and I’m with Rose, so my usual early morning routine hasn’t quite worked out. I can’t get in my steps before Macon becomes Mordor. Getting behind in both steps and writing means I’m up later and then not getting up as early, which just extends and exacerbates the problem. Now we’re heading into beginning-of-semester meeting marathons. I don’t have it bad, but maybe this wasn’t the best time for the challenge. (Again, kudos to all single parents. Nothing but respect.)
If you’ve read any writing books, then you’ve read advice to just show up at the typewriter/computer/blank page and put in your time. Piano teachers tell students to at least put their hands on the keys every day.
This is me showing up. This is me putting my fingers on the keys.
There’s a growing body of literature on habits — how we form them, how we can break bad ones and how we can institute new ones. One tip is to start small.
Stanford psychologist B.J. Fogg uses an oft-repeated example of flossing. If you want to develop the habit and are resisting it, start by just flossing one tooth.
I’ve not done well with the tiny-habit advice. Ten thousand steps is not that ambitious, but it’s a lot more than just putting on my shoes and walking around the block. When I started this commitment, I was hoping to do Seth Godin-like nuggets. Instead, most mornings, I just keep going once I start (which is actually the point of tiny commitments). I still hope to get in some small posts.
The real secret sauce of B.J. Fogg’s work might be in the less memorable advice that comes after “floss one tooth:” place the tiny habit after an existing habit. The trigger is the key.
And my triggers are all messed up.
Life is messy, so I need to develop flexibility. But I haven’t even been particularly conscious of ordering my routines. I had some awareness that I was spending too much mental energy considering what to do next. I always think of Steve Jobs’s black turtlenecks and President Obama’s standard suit when I realize I’m spinning my wheels even just a tiny bit.
But that awareness of a little wasted mental energy didn’t extend to how the ordering might affect habit development. I hadn’t seen this other piece of Fogg’s formulation until I watched the TEDx video for this post. Now, I think I have a new tool for the arsenal. Nice.