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Building Better Habits: it’s not all about you

The idea of developing good habits is de rigueur these days. 

Personally, I am a “general” fan of personal habits.  I like some good predictability and structure in my days.  I brush my teeth every morning, I get outside every day, I eat my veggies.  Habits help me free up my thinking for more pressing issues, like helping my kiddo with math homework, and tackling climate change. 

With that said, I have some issues with the gleeful embrace of micro-managing one’s habits in the quest for increased productivity, and/or for increased individual wealth and success.  But that critique is for another blog post entirely.  This post is about shifting our thinking about habits socially and collectively.

One of the top books these days touting the awesomeness of habits is Atomic Habits, by James Clear.  I’ve just started reading it, and it’s been a useful read so far.  Notice I said useful, and not totally amazing.  While Clear does provide some very accessible and convincing advice about why healthy/productive habits are “good” and how to develop them well, what grates me about this book is its almost exclusive focus on individuals.

“Uuumm, Julia,” you might be thinking, “did you not just cite some individual habits that you, yourself, practice every day?  How can individual habits be a problem?”  YES!  Of course, individuals have habits, and individuals can develop more useful habits so we can each live a fulfilling life in whatever way works for each of us.

Most “helpful” (or self-help) books focus on how we can each individually do things differently to help ourselves, as individuals, be “better” or “more successful.”  Clear’s book is no exception.

But I’m more interested to think about each of our individual actions put together make up our collective world.  Like, when we each hop in our car to drive to the store (as an individual behaviour, or practice), collectively we are contributing to increased pollution, and lowering our collective demand for accessible public transit, or other sustainable modes of transportation like bike lanes.

Here’s an example from Atomic Habits that got me thinking.

Clear discusses a Japanese safety practice in their rail system called Pointing-and-Calling (p. 63).  Truthfully my dudes, I’m married to a transit nerd, so I was actually aware of this practice already… (taking public transit as a family is often wonderfully and woefully embarrassing for our children). 

Before a train departs a station, each staff member points at and calls out a series of things, and having identified each detail aloud (like, pointing at the timetable when the train will depart, and stating the exact, current time), will call out “all clear!” once satisfied all the details are safe (or stop the train from leaving if there is a problem).  It’s a practice each individual does to bring unconscious patterns and events to a conscious level.  It’s easier to see if there is a problem when you are using all your senses (see it, hear it, touch it, etc), and vocalizing it; you can do something about the problem if you see it in the first place. 

Frankly, I do this at home in the mornings, as we are all trying to get out the door (“Keys!” [pats pocket], “Wallet!” [checks bag]).

Clear uses this Japanese railway example to highlight how unconscious behaviours individually need conscious attention as part of improving individual habits.  It’s harder to develop a better habit, if you don’t see how current habits might be problems.  But what Clear misses from the railway example is that the individual actions of these staff members are for the collective good.  To make their system safer, so other individuals within the system can be safe.  In the Japanese rail system, cultural values have helped them organize a process where each individual must act, do things, use their senses in combination with their voices, in order to help everyone else. (other rail systems have taken up similar practices, by the way…  it is pretty cool!).

Here’s another example, albeit totally different.

I took my younger kiddo to see the Barbie movie with her friend.  I loved this film (so many things to love about it).  

The filmmakers powerfully use story to make the patterns and habits of patriarchal society transparent.  Sometimes it’s hard to see patriarchy as a problem because we are so enmeshed with it; it’s almost like the air we breathe.  But through the story, we experience (meaning: we sense and feel) different ways patriarchal systems/structures turn Barbie and other women into objects, don’t value emotions alongside rational thought, create processes and ways of interacting that help men thrive, along with other things.  We see how certain values are enacted and repeated by individuals to create a particular culture where men are uplifted, and women, non-binary and trans folks are not.  Characters in the film eventually come to articulate different ways that women and others are oppressed in a patriarchal society (for example, saying: “It is literally impossible to be a woman… Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we’re always doing it wrong,” and “But never forget that the system is rigged. So find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful” and “I’m just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us” among other gems), and some characters are actually “deprogrammed” from the patriarchy (which was one of my kiddo’s favourite parts!).

This combination of engaging our senses and feelings and thoughts through the story, and through the characters using their voices to articulate what they experience, is very powerful for all of us to see patriarchy as a problem.  The point is not for individuals to develop better individual habits in their own bubbles, to thrive on their own.  By creating better individual habits (like, offering compassion to ourselves and others, slowing down and considering relationships among different parts of life in decision making, seeing how small daily actions affect our world and adjusting them accordingly, among so many), we can also create better systems and processes for everyone’s benefit.  By seeing the problem, we can do something about it collectively.

Design a session that will knock their socks off

You’ve been invited to give a guest lecture/workshop/presentation (yay!) but the prospect causes you to break into sweats (ack!).

The good news is that people think highly of you and value your expertise – they have invited you to share your awesomeness!  And the other good news is that you don’t have to cram all your knowledge into that 30/45/60-ish minute session to keep people engaged and help them learn stuff.  You really don’t. 

In this post, I’ll share a few things that I use in my own teaching and facilitation to help you think through how to design an awesome session, whether it’s a hands-on workshop, a guest lecture or a keynote presentation.

First, it’s helpful to think about these six things. 

Your topic. This might seem obvious – yes, of course you’re going to do your session on a topic – but, someimes it can be deceptively hard to select.  You can think about what your expertise is, and what the particular audience might learn from you.

Your audience. Of course, you can’t know for certain the exact people in your audience, but you can imagine them.  You can think about age/generation, career status (e.g. early, mid, seasoned), field or profession, culture, geography, and your own alignments or differences with your audience, among other things.  For example, I often work with people in healthcare – as an artist I need to think about potential differences in how we work, and some assumptions I might be making about terms or processes.  Having a sense of who your audience is will help you make decisions about your session.

The form.  Whether you are giving a keynote, workshop, guest lecture, on-line, in person, etc., thinking about the form can help you think about how you want to engage people in different ways (more below on strategies!).  It’s helpful to pay attention to what people expect from the form (a keynote is different from a hands-on workshop, for example), but you can also use or disrupt expectations in different ways. 

Change or transformation.  As you think about the change you hope your audience will go through, consider where you anticipate your audience is starting from related to your topic, and where do you want them to end up?  Your session becomes about that in-between part. How will you engage them so that they move through some kind of transformation, ending up in a different place?

Your session might be about building practical skills, or it might be about ideas and thinking differently, but thinking about a “starting place,” an “ending place,” and the change you hope will take place, still applies regardless.

Strategies: how will you get there? It can be useful to brainstorm a whole bunch of different ways to engage people – a lot more than you will actually use – as part of thinking through what might be strongest.  The specific strategies you select depend on all the other different factors – your topic, the audience, the form, etc. As you think about strategies, you can continue to return to: what is the change you anticipate this particular audience might go through? 

Time frame.  Whatever the amount of time you have, try to plan for less. Give yourself a buffer. If you have 45 minutes, then plan for 40.  It’s also useful to leave time at the end of your session for questions, or a wrap-up – and if you have more time than you anticipate, you can have a longer discussion, or even just end early (and everyone will love you!).  Whatever you do, stay within your allotted time.  For reals.  I’ve included some strategies below for how you can design your session to help you stay on time.

And actually – I’ve developed a free, downloadable tip-sheet that covers these ideas and will help you design your session further.  You can find it here.

Next, you’ll want to put these ideas into your session.

Now that you’ve started on these different aspects, you need to pull it all together.  Below are some ideas about structure.  

I think of this as a Sandwich.

Introduction: your first piece of bread, or the bottom of the bun. How are you going to introduce this topic to this particular audience?  You can, of course, just state your topic and learning objectives at the start of your session.  Depending on the audience, spelling it out can work really well. But you don’t have to do that.

Maybe you are doing a hands-on workshop, and your topic has to do with helping people become more aware of their own bodies and emotions while they are working.  If your audience is dancers, you could start with a meditation and a physical warm up, and then, after these activities, articulate the aims of your workshop.  But if you are working with physicians, you will probably want to introduce the same topic in a different way, maybe through a story, or by introducing yourself and your expertise.  Your introduction should give your specific audience a sense of the topic, but also a sense of the kind of strategies you will be using throughout your session.  It’s like a sample of what the rest of your sandwich will taste like.

Your content and strategies: the meat and veggies. These are the various selected strategies you will use to engage people with your topic, thinking about the change you hope your audience will go through.

I plan my sessions into chunks of time, and allot a different strategy for each chunk.  For example, for 5 minutes I will share a story, for 7-8 minutes people will break into groups and share their own stories, then we will return to the larger group for 10-12 minutes – etc. 

This “chunking” is useful for a couple of reasons.

  • You can clearly see whether your activities align with your aims.  What are the actual strategies you plan to use, how much time have you allotted for each, and will these strategies help this audience move through change you are hoping for?  Let’s return to the example of helping people become more aware of their bodies and emotions while working.  If you notice that the strategies you’ve chosen only involve people talking, you will want to revise what you are doing to include activities where people are engaging and paying attention to their bodies (such as breathing exercises). 
  • It can help you keep on time when you come to facilitate the session.  If something goes awry during the session, and you find that you’re short 10 minutes (“the wrong room was booked, no one can find the key, oh they chaos!”), then you can easily look at the structure of your session and adapt quickly.  It’s easier to pull out a section on the fly, and much easier to adapt in the moment, when you have planned your session into smaller chunks of time.

Whatever you do, remember that more is not necessarily better.  Be sure to build in pauses, or breaks, so people have time and space to process.

Conclusion: the top of your bun. You can help people digest your metaphorical sandwich, including what the session has been about, or what their transformation has been. Hopefully, your audience will continue to process the material after they leave your session, and apply it out in the world.  Through your conclusion, you can help them transition what they’ve learned.

As a few ideas, you could field some questions, or invite people to have discussions amongst themselves and then open it up to the larger group, or if you’re short on time, simply make a statement like: “We don’t have time for a discussion, but these are the things that I’m hoping that you will take away with you…”  

Also, you can leave your contact information. This invites people to continue the connection after your session.  It’s almost like continuing a conversation.

Be sure not to sell your conclusion short – sometimes that processing time can be just as important, if not more important, than the bulk of your session where you share information.

In case you missed it, here’s my free, downloadable tip sheet!

Calling it Quits?

Some thoughts on decision-making, grit and knowing when to quit

Quitting often gets a bad rap.  We usually associate greatness with grit, stick-to-it-iveness, persistence.  And of course, grit can be useful.  But we often overlook the importance of knowing when and how to shift gears and steer towards a new path.

Public thinker and former professional poker player Annie Duke talks about how we need to associate quitting with greatness more often, and that we should also quit more often.  I heard Duke in her interview with Dr. Maya Shankar on A Slight Change of Plans, and her latest book is Quit: The Power of Knowing When to Walk Away. 

Duke points to her successes in poker to highlight the importance of quitting.  In many ways, poker is about knowing when to fold.  How to assess a situation as best you can, and decide amidst uncertainty.  But due to our cultural bias against quitting, we often assume it is a form of cowardice, or even failure.  Our cultural narrative upholds people who persevere as heroes, often beyond mental wellbeing.

Duke’s other example is climbing Mount Everest (aka Chomolungma, as Tibetans call it, or the Nepali, Sagarmatha).  She tells about Rob Hall, a New Zealand mountaineer, who died in 1996 along with a fellow guide and two clients as they were ascending the summit.  Duke talks about how climbers will set “turn-around times” – the team agrees in advance that proceeding beyond an agreed-upon point, beyond a certain time, will be too risky, and if they don’t reach it by that set time they will turn around.  According to Duke, Hall and other members of the team broke the set turn-around time, which resulted in tragedy.

Why would Hall and others persist, despite the turn-around time?  Duke cites the strength of those forces that propel us to continue, even in the face of sensibility.  You can listen to the podcast here for more scoop on this story.

To be clear, quitting doesn’t mean giving up. 

It just means giving up the direction in which you have been moving up to that point.  Quitting can free us to pursue other options that were previously limited – if you don’t climb a mountain, you can take a cooking class, go to the beach, hang out with your family!

So, why don’t we quit more often? 

Duke cites a couple of reasons:

  • Regret is a strong deterrent – even the thought of potential, future regret.  We might think “But I’ve come this far!  I’ve worked so hard! What if I regret it?”  Our investments, and even our identity, might be wrapped up with that path.  But continuing to stay on the same path is also a kind of “decision.”  I’ve certainly heard more than one person say, after deciding to quit something they were miserable with, “I just wish I’d done it sooner…
  • Grit or persistence can get bound up with our sense of competence – that our past decisions were good ones, therefore we must continue to pursue this path.  However, Duke insists that we often make perfectly fine decisions, based on thoughtful, sound information.  But as time passes, contexts change, or we ourselves change in what we want or need.  It is absolutely OK to change course.

Here’s another example. 

Artist and YouTuber Louise Stigell shared why she planned to quit Instagram through this video.  She discussed how using IG:

  • Made her feel bad.  She didn’t like the app itself – it wasn’t pleasurable to use, but she also felt manipulated, overwhelmed, and scattered by the experience. I quote: “I feel shitty when I’m on Instagram.”
  • Didn’t help her grow her art business.  The “thankless time sucking grind” of developing strategy and regularly posting had not resulted in any substantial growth in her audience or buyers.  She found that she was twisting herself and her work to try to please the IG algorithm, which didn’t result in business growth.
  • Made her feel she had to conform, and move away from art-making, which is the purpose of her work.  IG prefers short-form, “eye-ball-grabbing” content as a game.  If you’re not willing to perform by those rules, you are not going to have a chance compared to folks who play the IG game.

Instagram was working for Stigell for a while – as a visual artist, it made sense to use IG as a visually-oriented platform to connect with audiences.  This was initially a sound decision.

But it became apparent that the cost of using IG was too much – bad feelings of manipulation and overwhelm, plus lost time, and few business gains.  So, she decided to quit, and pursue other avenues, including YouTube which provides more of what she is looking for.  Her decision to quit was based on her feelings (wanting to feel good), and also the practicalities of running a business (no significant gain from the effort made).

In thinking about quitting, I’m heartened by Duke’s suggestion about the power of the word unless – I will do “X”, unless…  Almost like your own, personal “turn-around time.” I will climb this mountain, unless the weather turns bad.  I will use this social media app, unless it becomes a burden (e.g. makes me feel terrible, and doesn’t grow my business).  I will pursue this career path, unless I cannot find lucrative work in a particular timeframe.

In decision-making I am reminded of something a yoga mentor shared with me:

Do what keeps you soft.

Does this thing I am pursuing move me in a way that feels good?  Is this path making me become emotionally hard, or fixed to the point of rigidity?  Or is this path hard because it’s not viable, and I can’t afford rent, or I have to choose between vegetables and transit?  We all have material needs, and this is part of what can “keep us soft” (meaning, live a sustainable life). 

Do what keeps you soft.  It’s OK to quit.

**Hey! There are affiliate links in this post for products that I’ve used and loved! Thank you supporting me.

Burnout is not an individual problem: it’s cultural

The way we think and talk about burnout needs to change. 

As individuals we feel it.  And we often think the solutions need to be individual too (more resilience training, anyone?).  But it will take a cultural shift to really address burnout, and create sustainable workplaces that are integrated and even connected parts within our lives.

I have been reading ‘The End of Burnout’ by Jonathan Malesic.  Part of what I am appreciating is how Malesic defines burnout as a disconnect between expectations of work (your own, or broader expectations of what you ‘should’ be getting out of working as your life’s purpose), and what the work is actually like.  He says this disconnect can lead to feelings of cynicism, disengagement, and general uselessness and disconnection.  He is a former academic, and left his job because of burnout. 

But a big part of what Malesic emphasizes is how the solution for burnout is usually discussed as taking place within individuals. 

Things like: how you need to reconnect with your passion for work, or the values of your work, or how you need to develop tools for resilience, or how you can practice self-care.  And, please don’t get me wrong here: when done for your personhood, not because you will be more “productive,” self-care can be a political act.  But what Malesic is saying is that this focus on individuals is mis-placed.  The solution needs to be collective.

Burnout is a cultural problem. 

Here’s an example. 

One of my besties sent me a text.  It reads: “I was commenting to a coworker this week “ok, so I’ve identified how I feel as burnout… now what? All the stuff I read is not helpful.  I can’t just “cut back on work” and “carve out more quiet time”… I feel like I need to just not do anything for like a year!” 

And then another: “I feel like I need something that’s “just a job” so I don’t care about it… but then how do I find the motivation to DO it for the majority of my waking life… ugh.”

My friend has identified 2 things. 

  • Most burnout rhetoric is telling them they need to change themselves to avoid and navigate burnout.  Stuff like saying no to certain things at work, or carving out more personal “me” time.  But this isn’t helpful nor what they need.  What my friend suggests is that they need a complete break in order to recalibrate.  The current ways of doing things are just too much – they need a really, really long time away to even begin to feel balanced.
  • A possible solution could be getting “just a job” that they don’t care about.  Something they can go to and be paid for, but don’t have much investment in.  But this leaves them wondering how this will be sustainable in the long run, given work is where they spend the majority of their waking life.  With the “just a job” scenario, it’s possible there would be no connection.

But here’s the crux of the issue: we are assuming the solution needs to be individual. 

The problems are 1) the structures of work are not sustainable (granted my friend didn’t go into the details of what those structures are in their text), and all the suggested individual adaptations like carving out more “me time” or working to be resilient are not helpful, and 2) they seek some kind of meaning where they spend the greatest part of their day, even, or especially, if it’s not a grand life purpose.

An individual shouldn’t be changing their expectations around aspiring to have some kind of meaning or connection in their work, and to work in a sustainable way.  It should not be a radical thought to aspire for dignity. 

The problem is cultural, and so the solution needs to be collective. 

We need to re-think the place and meaning of work in our lives, and then we need to build different structures to reflect those values.

**Hey! There are affiliate links in this post for products that I’ve used and loved! Thank you supporting me!

Arts & Culture must be central in Canada’s COVID reality

COVID-19 has brought incredible social unrest and change, as well as personal disillusionment, and feelings of overwhelm. Many of us feel like we’re lurching from one task to the next, drowning in overwhelming inequities exposed by COVID and the realities of juggling multiple-roles and tasks simultaneously.  This is why, my friends, arts and culture must be central to a COVID-world and as part of Canada’s recovery. 

The arts not only provide us all with space to consider complex social issues, but they are also important to do just for the heck of it.  Now, more than ever, we all need to be reminded of why we are alive, and that we are not just vehicles of productivity that eat, sleep and work.

Others have made this argument before me.  Earlier in the pandemic, Amanda Parris brilliantly advocated that it is artists who are getting us through COVID and the arts need to be a national priority. Not only do I agree, but I think arts and culture need to lead us and will help us build a better world.

In Canada we like to measure value through economic impact. StatsCan reports that the GDP of culture industries ($59 billion) is larger than the agriculture, forestry, fishing, and hunting industries combined ($39 billion), as well as accommodation and food services ($46 billion), and utilities ($46 billion). However, this emphasis on economics entirely misses the point.  I would even say it’s part of what’s gotten us in this pickle in the first place (to put it lightly).

Connecting with culture and engaging with art are important beyond the obvious economic impacts.  This pandemic has brought tremendous social change and restructuring – things like new work-home environments, different reliance on technology across sectors, as well as policies and procedures in a range of environments (like long term care, education and healthcare).  This collapsing and re-structuring has revealed troublesome inequities deeply embedded within our systems (related to race, class, age, gender, etc.).  It’s no surprise that individuals report burnout and mental health stresses at alarming rates.   

The arts can provide spaces to grapple with social change and ethical issues. For example: what DO we think and feel about seniors living in long-term care and current policies in place? Or how can stories of Queer people and BIPOC continue to expose inequities and provide creative imaginings for the future? (there are countless examples, but you can find a small handful here, here and here).  But, frankly, it’s important for individuals to ‘just do’ art for the sake of it.  We need to remind ourselves that we can imagine and play, that we can be in the world without “producing” (money); that we are human beings.

Research supports this too.  As an example from my research about therapeutic clowns (yes, clowns!), my team and I found that disabled kids play with clowns in hospitals not to become “more productive adults” in the future; They play to feel and be in the world, to have agency, to imagine and be silly, and that this is important for their mental health.

Similarly, the research-based documentary ‘Music is Life’ which was filmed at The Dotsa Bitove Wellness Academy (led by Drs Christine Jonas-Simpson, Pia Kontos and Sherry Dupuis), shares that the reasons that people with dementia make music are not what you might think.  Making music isn’t about “curing dementia” or “improving memory”; the point is to do it just for fun (who knew!), and to share with each other and contribute to the world in creative ways.

We all deserve to be in the world in these ways, and as a society we need to build strong policies and systems that support this.  This centering on the arts and culture must happen alongside and integrated with the re-structuring of labour, workplace, economic, education, and health care policy in a post-COVID Canada.  Research from Canada Council for the Arts tells us that virtually all Canadians participate in the arts and deeply value those experiences. Our policies, such as the ways artists and arts workers are supported and how all of us must continue to access the arts in a range of ways, must reflect this. This valuing of the arts and culture must be prioritized and lead us into the future.

If COVID is showing us how the emphasis on the constant need for productivity has failed us, we need to dedicate time and energy (and also craft our policies) to just being-in-the-world, imagining alternatives, daydreaming, playing, and relishing in something just for the heck of it. 

Start knitting, sing in the shower, press leaves, dance to the radio, lazily read a book, experiment with that family recipe, watch a play on-line – do it badly, do it brilliantly, whatever. We are more than the sum of our parts; we are sensing, emotional, feeling, creative and imaginative human beings. THIS is how we guide our kids; THIS is how we support our seniors; THIS is how we build a better world.

**An earlier version of this post was published on my first blog, The Curiouser PhD in October 2020

**Also! There are affiliate links in this post for products that I’ve used and loved! Thank you supporting me!