2 min read

Don't break the chain, but it's ok if you do

I like the idea of trying to build a habit. For almost three years I wrote 1,000 words/day (6 days/week). Because most of that is fiction and unpublished the words will remain for me to appreciate as files on my iCloud Drive. However, an amazing thing that came out of that habit was a comfort with writing. I find a lot of enjoyment in the process of writing and trust the process. I know through years of effort that if I start smacking keys on a keyboard something will come of it; and occassionally I’ll be happy with the results.

Do something for a hundred days and check it off each day, try to build that habit, see what comes of it. Pushups, running, writing, eating healthier, all these things are fantastic. At some stage or other I’ve tried numerous habits and the exercise of trying has helped me grow and improve as a person. These are not bad things.

So I try to stick to habits. Some last longer than others.

But inevitably I’ll fail. Maybe I get sick, maybe people in my life who are more important take precident, maybe I just reach a point where I feel empty.

When that happens, and I break the chain of sticking to something, I have a choice to make. I can either fall back to a zero state, losing all traction and pretending none of the effort mattered—if I can’t have it perfect I won’t have it at all. Or I can appreciate how far I’ve come and choose each day whether to continue.

It’s ok if you break the chain, if you fall out of the habit. But it’s also wonderful to pick up and start again, to keep trying.

I love to run. I’ve built up daily habits and tried to make sure I never missed a day. I’ve trained for marathons. But I’ve also had years where I was discouraged and stopped running. Now, I take a much more relaxed approach to it. I run as much as I can, but I listen to my body. Some days it says I’m on the verge of getting sick, so I take a nap instead. I don’t force it. I sometimes hold back so that I can pick it up tomorrow. I’m in it for the longhaul, not the short burn. I want to keep this up for decades, so I take it in an effortless manner and handle what I can.

This approach is more nuanced and gray. It’s not black and white. It’s not do or don’t. It’s, do if I can. It’s an approach that takes into account all the chaos of life and work, and is kind to myself. I don’t kick myself when I’m down, get mad when I can’t do a thing. Instead I try my best, and then try again the next day. And day after day, week after week, my writing improves, my lungs strengthen, and I find little bits of joy day after day.

You’ve got this. Life is too long and beautiful to be so hard on ourselves for falling short of perfection. Let’s instead just keep moving forward and see what comes of it.