The Lure of the Break

Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/@rawpixel

Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/@rawpixel

I’d posted a new item on this site every other day for a year and seven months. Before then, I’d taken only two days from posting on schedule. Even an objective observer would consider this level of regular activity a habit.

Recently, a combination of unexpected franticness at work combined with a nasty head cold and scratchy throat threw me off the schedule. I cried “uncle.” I took a break.

The break didn’t even last a week. I skipped two scheduled posts. Yet when it came time to get back on track, the little devil on my shoulder poked its pitchfork into my ear and whispered,

“What does it matter, this blog and this posting schedule? Few people read what you write. And for the amount of effort? This can’t seem worthwhile to you. The time off sure felt nice, didn’t it? Wouldn’t a longer break feel even more fantastic?”

I won’t lie: I listened to the little devil.

And I realized that if I didn’t get back on schedule, I’d never return.

Tragic, the death of this blog? Hardly. However, the expiration of an impetus to create, think through topics I wouldn’t otherwise, improve my craft, start dialogue—the aspects of this blog that make it worthwhile—would prove unfortunate. Not for the world at large, but for me.

I pushed myself back to the keyboard. And I felt better. Energized. Analytic and curious about my world anew. I remembered why I love writing.

Good stuff.

Yet what does my experience say about all the “power of habit” rigmarole?

We’ve heard that the difficulty of breaking habits means cultivating routines around good activities will stitch them permanently into our lives—that positive-habit formation can provide routes to health and happiness and wellbeing.

Hmm.

Sure, I struggled before taking a few days away from writing. Yet once I broke the routine, the lure of the hiatus threatened to turn into a new habit all too easily.

So how valuable can we consider habits if they so easily fall away? Or do only certain habits so easily get shuttled? Do positive habits—with long-term payouts in terms of health, achievement, happiness—more easily break than habits with immediate physiological rewards?

After all, writing can seem like a chore in the moment—and a break feels good straightaway. Staying healthful in eating and exercise can feel like a trial when faced with a cupcake and a 5 a.m. alarm—and food indulgences and sleeping in feel amazing immediately.

If so, this doesn’t bode well for habits—at least the positive ones—proving all that valuable in changing our lives. Instead, it seems that the fragility of good habits requires constant vigilance. (One more thing for us to monitor.) A positive habit provides the benefits of a routine—you experience less of a willpower struggle when you regularly do something—yet you must stay top-of-mind aware that once you pop the routine’s bubble, you’ll nearly need to start anew.

What do you think?