Start
Start
Let us begin.
What is it about beginnings that are simultaneously so enticing and so offputting. I want to start writing this, but also I am going to procrastinate writing this. Alright, I think I’ve got it now. I’ve begun.
Wait.
Wait.
Actually, I need to answer these urgent texts that need replies. Nevermind that they’ve been languishing undisturbed for weeks now.
Okay, now. I’m really ready. Let us begin.
Well, before we do, I am just going to hop up and use the bathroom. Just in case, you know?
Hold on. Just a second.
Sorry about that. I had to tidy up on my way back to starting this.
Alright, for real this time. Begin.
This may look like procrastination on the surface. Sure. Maybe it is. Or perhaps it is the leeway to keep beginning.
Just now I paused to fix the formatting. I didn’t like how my words looked on the page. The spacing was all wrong. And the font. I couldn’t think in this font.
So now that I’ve paused, settled in, got the format in order, I can begin.
Let’s start for real now.
I’m not sure how many times I’ve started writing this now. It might be seven. But I am relishing these starts. Every time I sit down to write I get a thrum, a thrill. My fingers flex. My body comes to awareness. I get to start a new project today. Here now in this moment I get to enjoy the start of something new that has never existed before. In all of humanity all of these words have never been in this order. Ever. I get to make something. I get to begin something wholly completely new.
A fresh start on a new page.
Funny how that works. When we start something new we are gung ho excited for it. A new fitness routine that means new gym clothes, a new gym membership, new things to learn. A challenge to navigate a new place and new routines. Or a new instrument. How to coax the sounds you are certain should come from this instrument, sounds other people have made from similar instruments – a challenge to coordinate brain, fingers, and breath. Or perhaps a new recipe. Flavors to tantalize your taste buds. Spices you’ve never tried before like turmeric or sumac or saffron. Their aromas tickle your nose as they fill your kitchen. You taste the smallest amount and wonder is this supposed to taste like this?
We love newness. We love starting. We love new things, ideas, experiences. Novelty. This love of novelty is hardwired into our brains. Our brains light up when we experience something new because we have the expectation for a potential reward. Familiar things we know what they are and if there is a reward associated with them, or not, so they don’t light us up in the same way.
I’ve decided to use this love of starting, of newness, of novelty to my advantage. I’ve realized that any habit, hobby, routine that has gotten stale, I can just start over. Sometimes the starting over comes with a break. Sometimes I just tell myself I am starting over. And the strange thing is, just telling myself ‘hey Sarah, it’s now time to start a new way or approach to doing this’ will kick my brain into novelty mode. Suddenly, my brain is like new? I like new! New is great! New is wonderful! How can I do this new and different to how I’ve been doing it?
Building structure, habits, and routine is great. But too often we get caught up in the rigidity of routine and forget how release from routine and re-creating it can enhance the routine we’ve got going. We lose focus as we focus on the routine. Often I find myself doing something so I don’t break a streak and losing the benefit of the activity itself. When walking ten thousand steps a day, the point, ostensibly is to enjoy moving your body, feel the benefits of movement, perhaps get outside and enjoy the fresh air. But too often I’ve found myself speed walking through my house at 11:47PM trying to get those last twenty-two hundred steps in to not lose a streak. Suddenly, the routine has become binding and I’ve forgotten all about how I enjoy a daily walk outside. I was not getting the stress reducing benefits of my walking habit because I had created a stress around the structure of my daily walking habit.
Nowadays, whenever walking feels like it is getting stale, I’ll find a way to shake it up. Perhaps I’ll take a week off. Or invite a friend along. Or race my dog in the yard. None of it premeditated or planned. I will suddenly declare a restart! A new walking habit. Perhaps I will even tell myself, ‘you know what I would really like to do, I think I would like to start a walking routine’. A kind of ridiculous voluntary amnesia of the months I’ve spent walking daily. A new spark arises. I have new ideas. Walking becomes interesting again.
Random novelty has done more for me maintaining a streak and routine than rigidity ever has. It also liberates me from a desperation mindset. Routine for routine’s sake closes down creativity, shuts off the reward center in our brains, and negates the benefit of the routine activity. It makes habit the point and the actual activity less than the point.
So. Have we begun?