Better Than Before: Mastering the Habits of Our Everyday Lives (20 page)

“If you hadn't had that goal, don't you think you might have stuck with it anyway? After all, without rehab, you'd have lost the full function of your knee. That's pretty important.”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “Would I have done it, several times a week, for all those months? I don't think so. Maybe I would have gone once a week.”

“But for you, the goal of family skiing did the trick.”

“Yes, and last week, we all went skiing together.”

“Now that you've crossed that finish line, will you keep going to the gym?”

She paused. “I think so, because I have a new goal. I want to get in great shape.”

“It's good you have a new goal, but be careful,” I warned. “From my research, I'd say that you're in a danger zone. Your reward marks a stopping point—which means you're starting again, and starting is hard. So pay close attention to the habit.”

A few months later, I was curious to hear whether she'd been able to use her new goal successfully. When I asked her if she was still going to the gym, she answered, “Yes! Because my new goal—to fit comfortably into the clothes I wore on my honeymoon—keeps me motivated.”

I admire my friend's tenacity, and this approach works for her. I've noticed that some people are serial goal setters, rather than habit formers. Also, she's a Questioner, so perhaps a succession of finish lines helps to satisfy her desire for justification and sound reason. To me, constantly setting and committing to new goals sounds like too much effort; I find it easier just to commit to a habit. That's the Upholder perspective.

And many people do indeed find it helpful to sprint toward a finish line. The intense but limited efforts of a Blast Start can help us jump-start a new habit or pour new energy into an existing habit. For instance, many people successfully focus on a specific habit for thirty days to help themselves launch into a new behavior. Having done that, they should be careful, however, to recognize the special challenge posed by a finish line, so that they can put extra effort into maintaining their good habits after crossing that line. The real test of a thirty-day Blast Start is what happens on
day
31
.

If they want the new behavior to become a habit, they should use if-then planning from the Strategy of Safeguards to decide, in advance, how to proceed after hitting the finish line—perhaps by continually setting themselves new goals, just as my friend with the bad knee replaced one goal with another, or by deciding what the everyday habit should be.

Because rewards can undermine habit formation, I didn't want to focus on rewards to motivate myself; nevertheless, a habit must be rewarding in some way, or I wouldn't bother to do it at all.

My challenge, therefore, was to make my habits
rewarding
without sabotaging myself with
rewards
. How?

By finding my reward
within the habit itself
, with a reward that takes me deeper into the habit. If I look outside a habit for a reward, I undermine the habit. If I look within the habit for the reward, I strengthen the habit. A natural consequence of doing a lot of writing is getting a new, improved laptop (I wear out laptops; the keys start popping off). Once a week, when I do strength training, I walk there and take a taxi home. It's an indulgence to take a taxi instead taking the subway, but I decided, “A natural consequence of a demanding workout is feeling tired, and because I'm so tired, I get to take a taxi.”

I pitched a friend on this approach after he told me, “I want to cut back on my drinking, so I'm giving up drinking for a month. As a reward, I'll buy myself an iPad.”

“Can I suggest thinking about it in a different way if you want to change your habits for the long run?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“If you quit drinking, you'll save money, right?”

“Absolutely. I spend a ton at restaurants and bars.”

“So, a
natural consequence
of not drinking is that you'll have more spare cash. You can choose to spend the money on an iPad, or whatever. Getting the iPad isn't a
reward
for not drinking; it's a natural consequence of giving up drinking and having that money.”

“I don't get what you mean.”

“Say you want to start packing lunch for work. Instead of thinking, 'As a reward for preparing and bringing in my own lunch, I'll splurge on a lunch at an expensive restaurant on Friday,' you think, ‘Now that I'm bringing in lunch every day, I'm going to splurge on a fabulous set of knives, so my habit of cooking is more fun.' ”

“What's the difference?”

“A ‘reward' changes your attitude toward a behavior. At some level, it causes you to think ‘I'm not drinking because I want an iPad.” But if you think ‘I'm not drinking because I want to feel healthier, more energetic, and more in control. Added benefit: I have extra money to buy things I want.' That's a different state of mind, and might shift the way you view drinking in the future.”

The reward for a good habit is the habit itself. I visited a Fortune 10 company with a brilliant wellness policy: any employee who uses the company gym at least seventy-five times annually gets the next year's membership for free. This offer struck me as a terrific combination of the Strategies of Monitoring, Accountability, Convenience—because something feels more convenient when it's free—and Reward. The company's reward for exercise is
more exercise
. (Which reminds me of the old joke: Making partner in a law firm is like winning a pie-eating contest, and being told that the prize is … more pie.)

In addition to the particular benefits conveyed by a habit, the mere fact of sticking to a healthy habit gives me a rewarding sense of growth; adding one coin to the growing heap is very satisfying. My UP band gives me a sense of advancement, without the risks presented by a finish line. Continuous progress is the opposite of a finish line.

One of the secrets of a happy life
is continuous small treats.

Iris Murdoch,
The Sea, the Sea

I
'd started many habits over the past several months, and, Upholder that I am, I embraced them, and I planned to follow them indefinitely. No finish lines. Nevertheless, while I was being more productive and more mindful, I sometimes felt burdened by these new activities. All this effort could be tiresome, even for someone like me.

Which is where the delightful Strategy of Treats comes in. Unlike a reward, which must be earned or justified, a “treat” is a small pleasure or indulgence that we give to ourselves
just because we want it
. We don't have to be “good” to get it, we don't earn it or justify it.

“Treats” may sound like a self-indulgent, frivolous strategy, but it's not. Because forming good habits can be draining, treats can play an important role. When we give ourselves treats, we feel energized, cared for, and contented, which boosts our self-command—and self-command helps us maintain our healthy habits. Studies show that
people who got a little treat
, in the form of receiving a surprise gift or watching a funny video, gained in self-control, and I know that I find it easier to face Power Hour if I had coffee with a friend during the day. It's a Secret of Adulthood: If I give more to myself, I can ask more from myself. Self-regard isn't selfish.

By contrast, when we don't get any treats, we feel depleted, resentful, and angry, and justified in self-indulgence. We start to crave comfort—and we'll grab that comfort wherever we can, even if it means breaking good habits.

To strengthen my good habits, I decided to create a menu of healthy treats—but that can be more challenging than it sounds. So many popular treats come at a cost: the museum visit requires a long trip across town, the new shoes are expensive, the martini will make the morning tougher. My favorite treat is reading, and reading requires time and concentration, which aren't always easy to muster. A reader of my blog noted, “I love to play the piano, but it takes focus, and some days I've already spent out my focus quota.”

I began by collecting examples of other people's inventive treats: browsing through art books, cookbooks, or travel guides; taking photographs on a walk; napping; having a session of “fur therapy” (petting a dog or cat); wandering through a camping store; looking at family photo albums; keeping art postcards in the car visor for a quick diversion in stalled traffic; going to a comedy club; going to baseball games; listening to podcasts; coloring in a coloring book; visiting an amusement park; learning a new magic trick.

It's important to have some treat options that aren't very demanding. A friend told me, “Every day after I get my kids off to school, I go back to bed for twenty minutes. I may go to sleep, or else I just lie there. I'm still at work by 9:00 a.m., and that little indulgence makes me so happy.” A friend living in London told me his treat: “My calendar is packed, but twice a day, for fifteen minutes, I sit and drink an espresso and read the
International Herald Tribune
, and I don't check email, I don't do work. I don't want any additional breaks, but I'm furious if I don't get those two.” Another friend said, “I wonder if there's something a person could do with this sexually. Depending on their situation.” He laughed. “I don't even want to say out loud what I'm thinking.”

“No, don't spell it out!” I protested. “But it's true that treats that come through the body seem to have a special power.”

Sometimes treats might not look like treats. Writer Jan Struther observed, “
Constructive destruction
is one of the most delightful employments in the world.” I find that true, and tasks like shredding mail, emptying out files, or even peeling hard-boiled eggs can feel like a treat. Funnily enough, clearing clutter is also a treat for me, when I'm in a certain mood. On my blog, people wrote about their own untreatlike treats: ironing, writing code, doing Latin translation.

As a treat for herself, for her birthday, one of Jamie's colleagues walked to work—six miles. “Did she do it to prove to herself she could do it?” I asked. “Or as a treat?”

“Oh, she wanted to do it,” Jamie assured me. “For fun.”

Although I love hearing what other people consider treats, I remind myself to “Be Gretchen.” Just because an activity is a treat for
someone else
doesn't mean it's a treat for
me
—and vice versa. A friend said, “I love CrossFit, that's a treat for me.” Maybe I could reframe my yoga class, or exercise generally, as my “treat,” I thought. Then I realized—nope. I do enjoy it,
in a way
, but it's not a treat. A friend told me that her favorite treat was to shop for gifts—a task that for me is arduous enough to qualify for Power Hour. I wish my bank of fun included activities like sketching, playing tennis, cooking, doing puzzles, or playing a musical instrument, but they're not treats for me.

I made a list of my own treats. One of my favorites is a visit to the library. I love keeping a log of books I want to read, looking up the call numbers, and wandering through the stacks to pick them out. Returning library books is an odd little treat, too (perhaps that's my Finisher nature). I love copying out my favorite passages from books and adding them to my various collections of quotations. I view sleep as a big treat, which is why I don't resent the idea of going to bed earlier, the way some people do. For me, it feels like a luxurious indulgence.

Beautiful smells are a reliable treat and can be enjoyed in an instant, with no cost, no effort, and no planning. In a flash, I get pleasure from the fresh smell of a grapefruit, or the comforting fragrance of clean towels, or the promising smell of a hardware store. I remind myself to
notice
such treats, to register the fact that I'm experiencing a scent that I love.

After all, we make something a treat by calling it a “treat.” It's all too easy to overlook how much we enjoy something. When we notice our pleasure, and relish it, the experience becomes much more of a treat. Even something as humble as herbal tea or a box of freshly sharpened pencils can qualify as a treat. “Look,” I tell myself as I light a scented candle, “I'm giving myself a treat.” Sometimes we can even reframe a challenging habit as a treat, which makes it much easier to keep. A reader observed, “When I thought of exercise as something I ‘should' do, it was hard to get into a routine. Eventually, I decided to count my daily walk or cross-country ski as a treat—my time for myself in a day otherwise filled with responsibilities. Somehow, that made it much easier to make it a priority.”

The treats of childhood retain a special power. As a child, I was rarely allowed to drink soda or to buy a book instead of checking it out from the library. What do I do now, with abandon? Drink diet soda and buy books (the book-buying treat is wholly separate from the library-visiting treat). So perhaps we parents need to think hard about what we identify as treats for our children.

A friend thought she should renounce her treat. “I really love coffee, but I know I should stop drinking it,” she told me.

“Why?” I pressed. “Does it keep you up at night? Does it make your stomach hurt?”

“No, it doesn't affect me.”

I couldn't resist launching into a defense of coffee. “You need some treats, and as treats go, coffee is great. Even if you buy very expensive coffee, it's not
that
expensive, in absolute terms. It boosts your energy and focus. If you don't add anything crazy, it doesn't have any sugar, carbs, fat, or calories, but it does have antioxidants, vitamins, minerals, and even fiber, weird as that sounds. Caffeine is fine if you're drinking it in the human range. Plus, there's pleasant ritual connected with it—you can go out for coffee with a friend.”

“But I drink so much. I should at least cut back.”

“But
why
?” I pressed. “Enjoy it! Samuel Johnson said, ‘
All severity that does not tend
to increase good, or prevent evil, is idle.' A habit isn't bad unless it causes some kind of problem.”

I don't think I convinced her.

Putting time, money, or energy toward treats may be easier or harder, depending on a person's Tendency. Rebels readily give themselves treats. As an Upholder, I have a strong sense of self-preservation, and I'll say to myself, “I'm at the end of my rope. I'm going to stop working and read
Memories, Dreams, Reflections
for an hour.”

Because they want to have good reasons for their actions, some Questioners may be more willing to give themselves treats if they believe that getting treats isn't frivolous or arbitrary.

For instance, a Questioner might benefit from thinking, “I'm getting a massage, which increases immune function” or “I'll go to the football game with my brother, and that will strengthen our family ties.” Other Questioners like to consider treats as “investments.” A Questioner wrote: “I'm getting a haircut at the expensive place, not the $20 place, because having a professional cut and color helps my career. (Maybe a little bit just because I like it so much better.)” To be sure, some Questioners may conclude that “because I want to” is a sufficient justification for a treat.

Obligers, by contrast, may have trouble giving themselves treats if they feel that the time, energy, or money is more properly owed to someone else. But it's important for Obligers to have treats. They're susceptible to burnout, and too many moments of self-deprivation, or too much work for the benefit of others, may lead them to feel resentful, neglected, or deprived. Touching on Obliger rebellion, one Obliger wrote: “I don't give myself treats, finding it much easier to give treats to others. Every so often, however, a level of anger surfaces … I have no problem treating myself when I am in these rare times of ‘Obliger resistance.' ” Another Obliger explained how he uses his Obliger character to convince himself to enjoy at least one regular treat: “I'm reluctant to give myself treats but happy to provide treats to others. I just never feel right taking that time away from the other things and people that I'm responsible for. I do manage to take one night a week for myself (I'm a member of a skating team) which is a classic Obliger thing to do as I wouldn't get out if people weren't counting on me.”

Framing a treat in terms of its benefit to others is a good way for Obligers to manage to give themselves treats: “If I spend a few hours playing golf, I'll be more patient at home and at work.” A reader wrote, “I just spent more on a make-up product than I have in my entire life, because I recently resolved to pay more attention to my appearance. I decided to do this because I thought it would help me feel more attractive, which would be good for my marriage. Notice that the ultimate goal is improving my relationship, not just feeling better for my own sake.”

People who are around Obligers can help ward off Obliger burnout, and Obliger rebellion, by encouraging them to treat themselves (healthfully) and by providing external accountability to make sure they follow through. “You said you wanted to take a nap, and you'll be irritable if you don't. Go lie down, we won't expect to see you for an hour.”

The four Tendencies may have different views about whether to schedule treats regularly, or whether to indulge in spontaneous treats. As an Upholder, I prefer a scheduled treat; I like being able to anticipate and depend on getting that treat. A Rebel prefers a spontaneous treat. A Questioner would follow whatever course would enhance the pleasure of the treat.. An Obliger would need external accountability to get that treat, which would usually require scheduling.

By helping us to feel energetic and happy, healthy treats can play a key role in fostering good habits, but we must guard against the temptations of unhealthy treats. The pleasure lasts a minute, but then feelings of guilt, regret, and loss of control, and other negative consequences, kick in. A reader posted on my Facebook Page: “My treats are
never
good for me. If I'm feeling good, I think I deserve something that's not good for me. If I'm feeling bad, I think I deserve something that's not good for me.” Another reader added, “Skipping class is a treat that has a bad effect on me. I do it to feel better, but it makes me feel so much worse.”

Three categories of treats, in particular, are dangerous. First, food. Indulging feels good for a moment, but it may leave us feeling worse in the long run. One study found that
women are more likely to eat chocolate
when feeling anxious or depressed, but this treat just makes them feel more guilty. People who struggle with their relationship to food may do better to find nonfood treats, period.

Second, shopping. For many people, shopping is a treat—perhaps surprisingly, research suggests that people are more likely to impulse-shop when they're feeling
good
than when they're feeling
bad
. Shopping is a chance to have a small adventure; to enjoy the world by looking, touching, tasting, and smelling; to feel the thrill of the hunt, the bargain, and the crossed-off items on the to-do list. However, spending too much time or money on shopping can make people feel worse. Some manage to enjoy an anxiety-free shopping treat by limiting themselves to window-shopping or bargain hunting at flea markets or garage sales. A reader wrote: “I do sometimes ‘sport shop' for entertainment or relaxation or emotional pick-up. I set a money limit before going into a store to browse.” Another reader fills up her online cart, then abandons it without making a purchase. One reader posted: “I pop into an antiques store while I am out running errands. I almost never buy anything, but stylishly arranged stores with beautiful things are such pleasant places—like small art museums.” Another explained, “I shop online a lot, sometimes too much. Recently, if I see something I like, I will pin it to a Pinterest board instead of buying it right away. This often satisfies the ‘need' to buy the item and gives me the small jolt of happiness that comes along with getting something new. Just knowing I've saved it somewhere is satisfying.” But as with food, people who struggle to curb their spending may do better to find nonretail activities.