It’s so easy to break habits

Well, I could do with fixing my tea drinking habit. And my Pepsi Max addition. I could lighten up on the curries too, or at least if I stopped having so many I could perhaps lighten up.

But about six months ago I made a plan – and put it in OmniFocus – that every day I would post one article to this Blank Screen news site. Just one. After a while, it became a habit. And there was certainly never a shortage of material.

After a spell, that became frustrating: there was always more that I wanted to say.

So I worked out timings and figured out the average time per article – it’s ridiculously variable – and also reckoned that doing two together would take less time than doing one then coming back later for the next.

In my head I was about to change the repeating daily OmniFocus task to “Post three new articles” and I began typing exactly that. But somehow the word ‘three’ changed itself to ‘five’. A slip of the mind.

But I tried it. And for at least five months, I did five stories a day. It got so doing the five was a normal part of my day. Until the end of September.

Then various events I’ve been producing all year came along and last preparation, new marketing and new research followed by the performance, it clobbered me and I failed.

I failed to post at all one day.

I remember sitting by the bed, iPad in hand, not really able to focus my eyes let alone my head. It was probably a sensible decision to fall asleep, even if my body made that choice for me.

But.

Having broken the chain once, that chain became china: it shattered at the break. It became very easy to not post at all.

Now, I don’t think you were waiting for me every day. But I was. And I’m jolted by how hard it was to break the pattern the first time yet how very, very easy it was to break it the second.

So I’m back. I promise myself and you that I’m back. But do please take a telling from my admitting to having been poor like this. You can do more than you expect with a habit and if you don’t break it, you feel great.

Look, it’s like this…

When you have bad news to tell someone, just tell them. There’s no need to be cruel about it but also don’t keep them hanging: the sooner you tell them the sooner they can handle it.

I learnt that recently when there was a cockup over an event and I was sure I’d blown the whole thing. I put off talking to people about it for no reason other than the fact that until I did, the event was still notionally going ahead. And I wanted the event to go ahead. But eventually I had to do the deed – and within moments the reaction I got was completely okay. We won’t do that thing, we’ll do this instead. Sold.

I was relieved but also embarrassed that I hadn’t just got on with it.

Now I’m even more convinced because the Harvard Business Review says get on with it too:

Here’s what I’ve come to realize: I almost always overestimate how difficult it is for the other person to hear what I have to say. People are resilient. I’m usually more uncomfortable delivering a difficult message than the other person is receiving it.

Next time you have a conversation you’re dreading, lead with the part you’re dreading. Get to the conclusion in the first sentence. Cringe fast and cringe early. It’s a simple move that few of us make consistently because it requires emotional courage. At least the first time.

But the more you do it, the easier and more natural it becomes. Being direct and upfront does not mean being callous or unnecessarily harsh. In fact, it’s the opposite; done with care, being direct is far more considerate.

How to Start a Conversation You’re Dreading – Peter Bregman, Harvard Business Review (7 July 2014)

Actually, whenever something like this is done to me, when the person puts off telling me something, I am always put in mind of She’s on the Roof. Apparently it’s an old gag, but I heard it first – and I hear it again in my head every time this comes up – delivered by Sam Waterston in Capricorn One. Here’s a poorly done clip with an irritating watermark (it vanishes a minute in) of the scene in question. Waterson is one of three men being pursued by helicopters: