Good morning friends.
It’s been exactly two months since I posted my first newsletter. Thank you for joining me on this experimental journey!
I’ve been walking the last 3 mornings in a row to this fish that is about 30 minutes from my house:
I used to walk here almost every day, but I fell out of the habit. Now that it’s getting warmer (sort of), I’m trying to rebuild the habit because I really like seeing the fish and the river every morning as a way to start my day. I’ll do it this morning right after this post, I promise!
But do you ever wonder why we assume that habits are good? Is it because they help us frame our lives in such a way that we don’t feel like we are just free-floating in space? I wonder if some people like free-floating in space? Might I like it if I allowed it? I am a person with a lot of questions.
I have a few habits that I have developed lately that I enjoy or at least find useful enough that I keep doing them. I do exercises in my kitchen in the morning while I make coffee. Squats. Wall-pushups. That sort of thing. And I try to write a little (at least) every morning - whether in a notebook, free-flowing stream of consciousness junk on my computer, something for this Substack, or a song I’m working on.
I also have a number of things that I would like to become habits. For instance, working on music a certain number of hours a week or calling friends more regularly.
And what about our bad habits? Do we shun them and psychologically try to push them away? Or should we try to accept them? Accept ourselves a little bit more? Doesn’t having patience with ourselves and our bad habits ultimately loosen their grip on us?
Habits are grounding, I get that. And if the habit in question (ie walking for an hour or so in the morning) has health benefits, then that’s definitely a bonus, right? I try out lots of things as potential habits, but admittedly, most don’t stick. It feels a bit like trying on different outfits. I’ll learn about this or that from a book or an article I’ve read, a podcast I’ve listened to, or yes - a reel that has somehow shown up in front of my face on my phone, and I’ll think, “Maybe I should try that?”
It feels like there is ALWAYS someone talking/shouting at me from my phone telling me how what I really need is this product, or this investment tool, or this diet or this exercise regime. It’s truly exhausting and I’m sure I’m not alone here. But I keep looking. And I keep wondering, “Do I need that in my life?”
Most often, I know the answer is a resounding “no”, I don’t need that. I don’t think I need much really - especially from things presenting themselves to me from my phone - but how do we learn to trust ourselves and not the algorithm in our more vulnerable moments?
By being present as much as humanly possible.
This is the most important habit a person can have, in my opinion. It’s a tough one to develop and it’s one I’m constantly working on strengthening. It’s also sort of the antithesis of having lots of other written-in-stone habits, because if you are present and mindful, then nothing feels rote - nothing feels expected and tired and bland. Everything has the potential to feel magical and shapeless and vital.
I long for my life to be this way.
I also know that it feels impossible a lot of the time with work and other seemingly endless responsibilities taking up a lot my of mental real estate.
But is it impossible?
I don’t think it is. If we are resolute about trying to be present with ourselves and with each other, then can’t anything we do be imbued with a sense of freedom and beauty and wonder? Even in the midst of performing a habitual act?
What’s your take on habits?
Oooof. This is a question I constantly struggle with, having spent a lot of time trying to break bad habits. But I do think "habit" and "devotion" might be related, and growing up in a Bah'ai family, the idea of variance-in-repetition (like other traditions, too, chanting numbers, counting beads, all that kind of stuff) validates that devotion to habit can be a very healthy thing.
But then also I remember the poet Joan Retallack paraphrasing John Cage: Habit is always tempered by chance operations. And I believe that. I'll do my routines to keep my compulsive mind happy, but try to be open -- or make openings? -- for randomness to enter in. Yin and yang and all that!