How to MICRO-DOSE on meditation

Until now, I’ve been following the advice of most meditators: focus on extending practice times, and you’ll make progress. But what if you went shorter?

Over the last few months I’ve been trying to extend my writing sets and condense my larger daily routine. The trend of microdosing on psychedelics is thought to boost productivity throughout the day, but not having access to a bag of drugs, I thought meditation could be a poor man’s equivalent. If I tried meditating between word sprints, the logic was that it would help recharge me, and I’d be able to write longer.

My old, formal meditation sessions ranged anywhere from 20 - 40 minutes, cycling between techniques. At some point in the practice, I’d feel an internal shift. For compassion meditation, I get the blissed out relaxation that comes from generating affection for people. For tantra, it’s energy and hope, for gratitude it’s a sense of luckiness and freedom. It’s a specific feeling for each, but some days I just don’t get there.

But when I changed my schedule and tried compassion meditation for 2 minutes between writing sets, what happened surprised me.

After 2 weeks, I could sense that internal shift occurring stronger, faster, and more consistently. I switched to 1 minute, and got the same results. Then, I successfully tried it with other techniques like single-pointed concentration, vipassana, selfing, and faster EFT.

Why did this work?

ACCELERATED LEARNING

Research out of Johns Hopkins University suggests that slightly changing up practice results in significantly better performance. 86 volunteers were trained to use a “force transducer” - essentially an electronic mouse you move around the screen by squeezing rather than sliding. The volunteers were separated into groups. One group had a second training session before a final test. Another group’s second training session was altered so the squeeze was slightly different every trial. And the third was a control group with no second training session.

The group with the changing grip improved almost twice as much as the first group in both speed and efficiency.

What’s crazy is that this might even work with visualization alone.

In a 2019 study baseball players were asked to practice visualization techniques to improve their practice (there’s been research that shows that mental rehearsal can improve performance). The players were divided and instructed to practice combinations of slow motion, normal speed, and faster than normal visualizations of hitting a baseball.

While all groups improved, the largest improvements came from the players that visualized all speeds. 

Although this last study had a small sample size, to me this suggests that the mind learns by gauging and practicing relational differences.

And that’s not the only reason why this may work.

EXPECTATION

I think the element of expectation plays a huge subconscious role in our behaviors and mental adaptations, even if it’s on a subtle level. If we are expected to do a certain amount of work, we figure out a way. And when we come up against a border, especially a shortened one, our mind naturally adapts.

An artist friend of mine once challenged himself to create a sketch a day for 30 days. He said it helped him get more efficient. People like YouTuber and music producer Andrew Huang undergo amazing challenges – for him it’s with sound production (here’s him making a music album in a day).  He not only thrives off of it, but I think it’s something that makes him a better producer.

I’ve always seen cross training as engaging in different types of activities - like a mixed marital artist training in ground fighting or boxing for a time.  But in this case, mixing times and expectations may work just as well. 

But beyond cross training, it feels like something even more odd is at play.

MINDLESS LEARNING

There’s been a lot of talk about deliberate practice - and I’m a big fan of it, especially when it comes to meditation.

But the quality of this type of adaptation felt different. It felt like I was improving despite myself. I wasn’t consciously flexing anything - in fact, I wasn’t even trying to get better at meditation  – my focus was on writing. Yet, I’ve still improved.

This practice is a potential method to effortlessly level up any skill. Perhaps just as importantly, it makes skills more agile.

In a Tim Ferriss Show podcast, Josh Waitzkin, polymath extraordinaire, describes training himself to enter a relaxed flow state within moments, an optimal mode for learning. For my artist friend, it helps him work on producing art faster. Andrew Huang can output like crazy. And for meditation, training to shift your mind in such a short period of time can be used in a myriad of real world applications.

—

Nowadays I try cycling quickly between 4 or 5 techniques in one minute, something I never thought possible. I want introduce meditation to more of my real life, rather than relegating it to a formal, calm setting in a closed room. This training immensely helps with that endeavor.

There’s great use in longer meditation sessions. But there might just be as much use in shortening them.

photocred: candle by Nina

Is Killing Habits as Important as Forming Them?

While popular wisdom suggests that establishing a habit is the key to all self improvement, ending them may be equally - if not more - critical.

I’ve been in a rut for a long time. Old habits aren’t as stable and progress is slow. I miss swaths of time, and getting back to the routine just doesn’t happen as smoothly as it once did. 

As I diagnose this issue I have to acknowledge how much my core habits have changed. Meditation was something I did after showering. I now practice it between writing sets. Exercise started as a rowing habit as soon as I got up. It’s now morphed into cardio, indoor climbing, or walking -  something I get around to “at some point” in the day.

This “habit drift” is necessary. When efficiently leveling up a habit, both the trigger and response eventually have to change. I might practice several skills in writing depending on the day. If I joined a Crossfit class, the trigger will probably differ from my original home workout habit.

The only behaviors that are as rock solid as when I began – flossing and planning – don’t require any skill pushes. But for all the others, I’ll naturally mess around with triggers and their respective responses to grow. That makes the “habit fold” in my head less crisp, less automatic, and the habit degrades. The more you efficiently push a skill, the more inevitable this issue becomes.

I’ll call this the Habit Advancement Paradox.

The Habit Advancement Paradox:

When efficiently leveling up skills, automaticity degrades.

Or

Either habit automaticity remains stable or skills continue to advance.

“Efficiently” is a a key word here.

While I believe there’s natural growth that occurs, and you can extend that by forcing progress, it’s hard to get further without doing something extra – going to a different type of gym or joining a community. When that happens, it can feel like the ground is falling out from under you as once solid behaviors fade – even though you’re doing the right thing. You’re left scrabbling, tapping into willpower reserves in a way you never had to before to maintain the routine. After a certain point, what’s efficient for progress isn’t optimal for habits (and vice versa).

A NEW MODEL

I assumed that all skill pushes should be done under the auspices of the original habit. This appears unsustainable. Perhaps the answer lies in viewing progress as something larger than habits.

A “habit” is a singular, automatic trigger-response behavior. I define a “routine” as a sequence of habits chained across one day. What I need is a term for a collection of sequential, related habits and skill pushes across years that lead to mastery.

Let’s call that a “lifestyle”.

In this new paradigm, ending habits is just as important as forming them. It solves the Habit Advancement Paradox.

Take meditation. If I focus on triggers, my meditation habit was tied to:

1. Showering

2. At some point in the day

3. Random classes/community sessions

4. Between sets of writing

Going to class never stuck - and why would it? It’s not at all related to the initial habit I formed. Yet many of the changed triggers were conducive to skill growth. I moved the habit later in the day to accommodate more intense 40 - 60 minutes sessions. Community practice got me meditating in different styles, and short sets between writing forced me to work on quickly and consistently reaching states.

All this messed with automaticity. What would’ve been better is if I deliberately destroyed and reformed the habit to parallel different triggers and preserve the automaticity of the practice itself.

Knowing when exactly to do this is difficult. I think the answer lies when they’ve grown to the point of diminishing returns. And there seems to be a progression to the efficient, most effortless growth of any skill:

1. A Tiny Habit (establishing the initial habit)

2. A natural extension (the skill just naturally grows before plateauing)

3. Some sort of forced growth under the same trigger (the easiest growth I’ve found is to either go really tiny and intense or cycle through different types of training)

After number 3, it’s pretty clear that progress just stalls. There’s a limit to which you can wring out growth with the same trigger. There’s also a degradation in automaticity because you’re not making any meaningful progress. This might be the right time to reestablish a new, related habit on the path to mastery over a lifestyle. And I’d eyeball this at about 3 months.

Not only is three months enough time to establish and level up a habit twice (through natural and forced growth), but it’s also a nice way to divide the year into quarters. It also tends to be how long I shoot for with challenges. And there’s usually some sort of disturbance in my life within that time frame which degrades automaticity anyways (like holidays or travel).

TROUBLESHOOTING

There are still some theoretical problems with this new model.

The biggest issue is that restarting new habits is, once again, going to drain willpower. Most of the time starting a habit efficiently isn’t problematic because it starts so tiny. But when you’re ratcheting things up that might not be an option. There’s not a place, say, for going to a group meditation and just showing up for 10 minutes. However, I’d argue that a part of that load will eventually be taken up by other Elements of Change - specifically socializing and expectation. I think there’s still going to be a bit of awkwardness and a difficult start in the beginning, but I’m hoping it won’t be too much of an issue. 

IMPLEMENTATION

If I were to implement this, I’d first kill off exercise and mobilizing. Exercise has been the hardest hit by changeups, and mobilizing was always something I did after exercising. A part of my implementation would involve planning to naturally grow it, how to force grow, and a plan to kill it off in three months. I’d think about how to periodize this across a year, much like bodybuilders do with macrocycles.

It still feels wrong. Even though many of my habits are tattered and worn, they’re still precious multi-year behaviors. Shooting them out back like Old Yeller is nerve wracking. 

LARGER BENEFITS

I’m drawn to this paradigm for larger reasons. Productivity isn’t everything (gasp!).

There’s a reason why a “routine” connotes boringness. There is something inherently inhuman about strict adherence to a program. And that’s how I feel when churning through habits over years, especially when progress inevitably plateaus. Yet I cannot shake how valuable routines are.

However, change, newness, and novelty are all joy producing and life affirming. And they’re agile.

There’s always been a trade off in self-help - discipline to accomplish goals on one hand, and the random enjoyment that has so often led me astray on the other.

But there have been a few times where I’ve been able to fuse the two. Structured Randomness comes to mind, with its use of Novelty to bolster productivity. Similarly, “jot-outlining” and “scamping” in process composition joins creative freedom with structure. Structured Relaxation and Planned Mediocrity also carry a whiff of this union of opposites.

When I imagine a macrocycle divided into quarters where I get to run, rock climb, do yoga, and box, while making sure to build those up into strong automatic habits, I kind’ve get excited. I know I’ll always be adapting and growing. I’ll never feel dull. And I’ll be able to make them as effortless and automatic as possible.

Killing habits might be the best way to have your cake and eat it too.

photocred: tree in stump by Tim Snell, bulldozer by MINING.com, periodization chart by paddlers guide.wordpress.com

Answer Bag: Is Polymathy Even Possible?

A polymath is a person who has mastered multiple skills. Polymathics is Robert Twigger’s term of making such mastery possible. When discussing simultaneously mastering multiple skills my Dad recently asked :

“If there’s only so much willpower available to an individual, is mastering multiple skills at the same time even possible?”

So far this blog has been all about habits and skill mastery, but what has emerged is the concept of effortless change. That is, emphasizing techniques to offload the weight of change from willpower, effort, or strength of character. Techniques like building a Tiny Habit or my tally clicking system accomplish this by making the change as easy as possible. The more offloaded the change is from brute willpower, the more likely it will stick. Furthermore, this type of self-help is egalitarian, likely to work just as well for people who, for whatever reason, have less gas in the tank.

But what I’m really going after is effortless polymathy. Or at least preserving enough willpower to make it as easy as possible. But how do you do that, especially if you’re a regular person?

I believe there are methods, both theoretical and tested, to do this. Here are 4:

1. Unzippered Habits. One thing that surprised me about habits is that they don’t need to be done every day to form. Let’s say you’ve got a simple, daily habit you’re starting - say, flossing. When graphed, the initial habit formation curve is incredibly steep. Several of the habit researchers have stated that missing any one day doesn’t mess up that curve’s trajectory. As long as it’s not a long streak, your mind doesn’t register missing instances that closely. If you’ve got a clear trigger-response, your flossing habit will form up whether or not you miss days 3 or 8. And it will form at the same rate.
   
   So theoretically, you might be able to miss every other day, replacing those days with another habit, pulling the two habits apart when they approach full habit status.
   
   As the two habits become fully formed, their automaticity goes up, and willpower expenditures go down. In this manner, it may be possible to form two habits for the price of one.

2. Spaced Learning. Another big issue regarding polymathy is that there isn’t enough time in the day. The assumption is that to master something you have to cram as much practice time in as possible. That might not be true.

   In studies on accelerated learning researchers found that distributing practice sessions across a longer amount of time (rather than massing them all together) resulted in more efficient and long-term learning.
   
   The research is changing and rather confusing. But if that is true in any form, that space might give enough time to not only learn multiple skills together, but do it better.

3. Priming Tasks. A massive “leak” in the system is task switching costs. When the mind moves from one type of activity to another it lags. This is a particularly irksome issue when you’re stacking habits, and I’d imagine it would become more pronounced when learning different skills.

   
   However, priming the next task at the end of the previous one taps into a sense of excitement and motivation. While motivation isn’t my go to for long-term change, it is incredibly useful for “interstitial” issues like this. I found that watching a quick video online helps shift my mental gears to the next task at hand, significantly decreasing lag time.

4. Ego Repletion Techniques. As the day progresses my energy dies. There are, however, a few methods to refuel the tank. I’ve written about methods that have worked for me in this blog post, including harnessing momentum, changing mood, exemplar priming, and meditation. When cycled and tested with a rudimentary before and after scale, I found I could recover almost all of my energy back.
   
   An overlapping and related issue relates to energy. I think that ensuring good sleep and proper diet can really help with this. There are also activities that contribute to stable energy levels throughout the day - like this writer who found that 30 second bursts of exercise gave him the same boost as coffee.

I imagine this system as a really well tooled engine - you have to contend with friction costs and fuel efficiency and energy loss. With a behavioral science engine to drive multiple skill advancement, the system has to be incredibly efficient, and even more so if you want that change to be as effortless as possible.

If this sounds complicated, it is – and I think it should be. What we are discussing is the equivalent of sending someone to the moon. I think it’s time we view the complicated mechanics of behavior just as seriously as aeronautics instead of simply defaulting to talent and motivation.

photocred: Gary Danvers Collection

90 Days of Tally Clicking Anxiety

INTRODUCTION

Optimistic people are better.

They have fewer heart issues, live longer, experience less post-operative pain, heal faster, and have been linked with better athletic performance. Meanwhile, pessimism and anxiety have been connected with chronic inflammation, depression, and can even cause people to misread social cues.

As a pessimistic and anxiety-ridden person - that is, one who expects negative future outcomes - the mystical, perhaps not as well researched, studies heralding optimism as a panacea to all ills do not interest me. I just feel immense stress and panic constantly and want it to end. But other than vague remonstrations to “stay upbeat” or “exercise more” there isn’t really a robust system to change mindset. Furthermore, psychological tests to determine a person’s level of optimism and pessimism are vague, relying on memory, feeling, and generalities.

Over the last 90 days I’ve noted the number of discrete, moment-to-moment instances of anxiety I’ve experienced using a simple hand tally counter. After each day I recorded the number in order to obtain a more accurate metric. I’ve written about this here:

Glass Half Full: 90 Days of Tally Clicking Pessimism to Optimism
Glass Half Full Day 16: The Thanksgiving Blues
Glass Half Full Day 25: Mythology
Glass Half Full Day 85: Under Pressure

As with other vices, my “tally clicking” system simultaneously diminishes mental habits, charting the change across time. I also took a battery of more traditional psychological tests for various facets of mindset to provide a before and after snapshot.

DATA

Before and after tests:

Revised Life Orientation Test (LOT-R): 1/40 (Before), 20/40 (After)

Optimism/Pessimism Test (SeeMyPersonality.com): 100 % Pessimist (Before), 50% Pessimist (After)

Subjective Happiness Scale (SHS): 1.75/7 Happy (Before), 3/7 Happy (After)

Oxford Happiness Scale: 2.27/6 Happy (Before - Not happy/Somewhat Happy), 4.52 (Moderately Happy/Average person)

Mental Fatigue Scale (MFS): 16.5/40 (Before), 8.5/40 (After)

DID IT WORK?

Yes and no.

As the graph and the tests indicate, the changes were massive.

Incidences of anxiety decreased, and most of the anxiety/cynicism/optimism scales changed positively by 50%. In addition, my mental fatigue got significantly better, confirming my suspicion that this would affect other mental processes.

But in the few days after the challenge some of the anxiety returned, leading me to conclude that for a large scale, permanent change this is just the beginning – but a very good beginning.

PATTERNS

Throughout the challenge I noticed certain patterns to my anxiety. I tend to get nervous in the morning and at night. I also noted different vectors of emotion:

1. Depression - which seemed to be past facing and tends to get better with gratitude.

2. Jealousy - a present facing, comparison-based phenomenon that gets better with compassion.

3. Anxiety/optimism/cynicism - future facing, improving with reframes .

4. Other vectors, like energy and happiness

CHANGING THE CHALLENGE

The project started with simply tallying and recording all instances of anxiety during the day. Early on I added a simple mental reframe - “what if it all goes perfectly?” - after every click. Halfway through the project I added another action - cherry picking evidence of the past where things in that situation went well. Unfortunately I wasn’t as diligent when I did this.

PROGRESSION

The pattern to this in terms of the graph was pretty similar to other instances of tally clicking (alcohol, food, beer) . And the internal feelings progressed similarly. It first started with a weird sensation of reordering in the mind. I began to catch a precursor to anxiety and counter it. My mind then focused on imaginary situations - whether just pure fantasy or dream scenarios – where vices or anxiety would pop up. Spontaneous optimism popped up significantly more throughout the day.

One unforeseen benefit was how it affected other people. I found myself automatically verbalizing positive positioning on events. I was also able to help out people and influence their thinking in many stressful instances.

WHAT DIDN’T WORK

I did not click general, formless anxiety (like being stymied in life or work), nor did I click very minute instances like the ones that cause me to tap my fingers or pick at my lip. Predictably, those did not diminish during the course of the challenge. It was also sometimes difficult differentiating between concern over outcomes in order to adequately plan versus becoming consumed with irrational fear over negative outcomes.

CONCLUSION

I think I’m on the right path.

As a diagnostic and metric tool, this method is far superior to the standbys. There is a visual map of day-to-day improvement that is clear and not as reliant on generalities as the normal psychological tests. It also provides tools for changing mindset in the moment, something that can’t be stressed enough.

But I believe this challenge needs to be taken further to become totally ingrained. It confirmed my early suspicion that removing anxiety is only a part of the equation. One also has to add positivity. I believe the best way to do this is just regular click training. And I intend to do another 90 day challenge to do just that.

Glass Half Full Day 85: Under Pressure

Over the holidays Lydia’s family had an Indian food night. Cooking Indian food for anyone gets me stressed. As an Indian, there’s a tacit obligation to get it right, and I tend to be a perfectionist in the kitchen, so the pressure is on - literally in this case since we were using pressure cooker recipes. Everything went wrong - temperatures didn’t get high enough on the grill, two pressure cookers just stopped working, and we had to adapt to get everything done in time.

While I was primed to worry, my mind was steady - I didn’t even have to click. Inside I was stoic, repeatedly stating - “Hey sometimes things go wrong” and “what if it all turns out great?”.  I was even able to offer this calm fatalism to other people who were stressing out.  I can’t tell you how different this is to what I’m usually like inside. So while I might not always be so Zen, this case alone is proof enough that tally clicking is making a solid change.

Here’s my data for the last 85 days:

Since my last update, I got stressed out from deadlines, small things like crossing the street, driving, or trying new things like classes, cooking devices, and restaurants. I had larger bouts of frustration at life in general. I was nervous, sad, depressed, and jealous, but as the chart shows, I was less and less anxious.

As before, there were many instances where I observed a proto-cynical thought form, catching it and automatically reframing it before it solidified into full blown negativity. I experienced more spontaneous optimism, gratitude, and the warm regard of other people, feelings that are alien in my normal mental frame.

But my project also left impressions on other people. 

OTHER PEOPLE

Lydia said I seemed generally less sad with fewer bouts of true depression. When I did get anxious, she noticed I bounced back quickly.  And vice versa - I heard Lydia automatically use my “what if it turns out perfectly?” reframe right after she said something cynical. It’s yet another example of how the optimism/pessimism spectrum subtly influences people around me.

I also found greater clarification in what counts and what doesn’t in this project. Many cases of life frustration or irritation at people weren’t necessarily future projected prophecies of failure. I had instances of general worry that weren’t really directed at anything, which I didn’t click. Nor did I click away very minute behaviors, like tapping fingers, feet, or picking at my lips. Examined closely, it was difficult to see if this was just nervous energy or bona fide worry.

THE PROS AND CONS OF WORRY

My mother and I had a fantastic discussion on how we both fuse worry with problem solving. We are both concerned that we will collapse into laziness and procrastination without anxiety. But I believe there is a third option - becoming a person who is both an efficient problem solver and anxiety free. Lydia, for example, doesn’t really have recursive, energy draining negativity, but yet she still gets things done. I’m beginning to distinguish the line between calm concern over my plans (like I felt while cooking) and depleting energy over an outcome I can’t change.

CATEGORIES

There were also unusual instances that defied categorization. 

The first was imaginary scenarios: memories of anxiety, or reading books where a character would get anxious would get me get a bit nervous in the present. I’d also have fantasies of interactions where I got a chance to unleash my anger. 

Originally I didn’t know whether or not I should include these in my clicking, but I realized that many of my previous attempts at vice removal eventually got into changed behaviors in dream states. In fact, I think that these liminal states are quite telling of deeper change. 

Back in reality, I also realized that I had few instances of social anxiety - perhaps because socializing generally gives me something else to concentrate on. But people bothered me in other ways. I’d future project negative judgements of people I got an annoying first impression of. Though, when I actually interacted with them, I found they were quite nice and not at all like I had initially assumed. 

FAR REACHING CYNICISM

Cynicism has far larger reaching consequences than I originally thought.

I tend to hate people when I first meet them. I usually stop going to group meetings because of my prejudgements of how everyone will probably act. I have serious issues making plans accurately, and I feel that might be connected to how often I project the future so negatively.

—

Our Indian feast was more than just a success – some of the dishes were the best I’ve ever cooked. I’m glad this project got me to a point where I didn’t have to worry about circumstances beyond my control. But something is still missing. After the 90 days are up, I want do more than simply remove mental conditioning - I want to add more positivity into my life. I want to be that eternal optimist, not just for myself, but the people around me. And I think basic click training might help me do just that.

photocred: pressure gauge by Cory Denton, grumpy cat by Richard Walker, dreamcatcher by Scott Schwartz, emotions AbsolutVision

2019 Year in Review

The last year was more about honing and applying a lot of the this project’s productivity framework as outlined in my old post, The Elements of Change: A Grand Unified Theory of Self-Help. Here are some of the highlights:

Habits
-Created a Planning Superhabit

Personal Records, Challenges, and New Highs
-Successfully completed a 90 days of clean eating challenge
-Completed a 90 day no alcohol challenge
-Started a 90 days of tally clicking cynicism challenge which I’m in the midst of (second month). 
-Finished rewriting my proposal (my third)
-Went to Disneyland and meditated on every ride I went on (and I tried to go on them all)
-Applied for a grant
-Hit day 2000 of recording in this project
-Hit 2000 days of meditation 
-Hit 1000 days of mobilizing 

Publishing
-Published an article on horror and meditation for Tricycle
-Got articles commissioned in 3 top tier outlets (my first) - to be published in the next year
-Worked on consistently pitching and following up on top tier U.S. outlets
-Collected, printed out, and pinned all of my rejections in an attempt to shoot for 100 rejections

Theories and Experiments
-My crown jewel this year was uncovering A Better Way to Write, a system that applies all of this behavioral science to writing, joining elements from the process theory of composition, the elements of change, advertising agents, the Poynter Institute, books, articles, courses, and a decade of writer’s block. It has utterly changed the way I write and is a true game changer.
-Theorized about intentional imperfection and planned mediocrity in long-term goal setting
-I started experimenting with overcoming the task switching cost through watching short videos
-Tested out a rudimentary ego depletion recuperation test

Learning
-Went on two long seminars/retreats with a Tibetan meditation group - one on Chöd and the other on the Bardo
-Attempted the faster EFT meditation
-Started going to a rock climbing gym

Attempted and Failed
-Attempted to dip my toe into Strong Lifts - but failed to continue. It’s something I want to get into this next year
-A lot of my semi-permanent vice removal strategies fell a part, though only after a lot of tangent issues - sickness, travel, holidays, etc.
-Started experimenting with fasting
-Fell of the wagon with exercise and mobilizing recently during the holiday season, mostly because I hit a massive plateau with weight loss.

Travel
-Traveled to Grand Rapids, Austin, Dallas, and College Station
-Went on a road trip to West Texas and then on up to New Mexico
-Went on a massive road trip and camped for the first time and visited 4 national parks – Grand Tetons, Redwoods, Yellowstone, Crater Lake

Miscellaneous/Application
-Got a beautiful 110 year old tally clicker
-Had the best 40th birthday anyone could have
-I got a glimpse of what true control looks like on a trip to College Station while continuing along my no beer and clean eating challenge. Despite mourning a friend and having an intense series of social interactions, I ate clean, drank very little (and no beer) while every emotional trigger discharged. With proper structures of behavioral buttressing in place, remarkable amounts of control are possible, even by someone (like myself) with very little natural self control
-Used my planning habit to completely plan 3 trips (a first for me)
-Used planning to almost finished a second proposal while working on outputting my first 
-Experimented wth hacking culture to create my own tantric Christmas ceremony
-Started compacting my routine - meditation between writing sets, writing while at the rock climbing gym
-Used mobilizing, using Lydia’s mobilization glove, to heal a hand tendon injury
-Took several blood tests to track marked Improvement from eating and drinking challenges

Putting Myself Out There
-Fielded some good questions on starting meditation 
-I got two people on my tally clicking bandwagon, and another guy from Australia apparently heard about it from a friend and got a tally counter.
-Helped Lydia through a flawless 90 day eating challenge - she said that for her and her issues with food, it was almost easy
-I’ve started to become a more positive person to the people around me, specifically my family and Lydia
-Attended my first writer’s conference, which was eye opening
-Joined meetings in Houston - Stoics, Tibetan meditation, the Theosophical Society, The Houston Occult Society, a maker’s space, and the Oddfellows, among others.
-Joined online groups on writing, and fielded questions on the writing process
-Started my email newsletter

This has all been really great. The training of the mind especially heralds a lot of fundamental changes that I hope come to fruition in 2020.

In the next year I’d also like to focus on:
-Tally clicking more emotional issues like reinforcing optimism and countering depression and jealousy
-Making my routine more efficient and compact
-Creating a balance between hedonism and asceticism with respects to vice removal
-Advancing meditation even further by applying more behavioral science to the practice
-Sending out another book proposal and working on another one
-Figuring out a smooth cadence with writing and pitching to continuously have writing magazine work
-Dip my toes back into travel writing
-Dip my toes back into travel, but in a more meaningful, project and subject oriented way
-Building a robust and consistent social media campaign
-Attempting to figure out how to behaviorally “love what you do” - something I think is pretty common advice, but hasn’t really been concretely explored in productivity

photocred: fireworks by Kumar Appaiah

A Very Tantric Christmas

I’ve always felt out of place during Christmas. I felt my immigrant Hindu parents were awkwardly pantomiming the traditions to entertain me as a kid. They dutifully bought me presents and put up a fake tree, and when I got older the excuse was over. The specialness of the season evaporated, and all I could do was look upon other families with sadness and jealousy. As an adult I still made the motions, but something was missing.

This changed upon reading about the shamanic origins of Christmas. In his New York Times op-ed, Santa is a Psychedelic Mushroom, Matthew Salton ties familiar stories of Santa with the ritual use of pscychoactive mushrooms amongst the shamans of the Sami people of Lapland, who would use them to act as intermediaries between the mundane and spirit worlds. In Shaman Claus: The Shamanic Origins of Christmas, Matt Toussaint describes how reindeer herders of Siberia used the hallucinogenic fly agaric mushrooms (which grow beneath evergreen trees) in shamanic practices. The mushrooms are round, bright red, hung on the trees or next to a fireplace in a sock to dry and reduce their toxicity.

Toussaint writes:

“Sometimes they would place a pine tree in their yurts for ceremonial purposes.  This symbolized the World Tree, and they would harness its symbolic power to propel their spirit up and out of the yurt – through the smoke hole, i.e. the chimney.  Once the journey was complete, they would return through the smoke-hole/chimney with the gifts from the spirit world.  They also believed that the North Star was the very top of the Upper World, and because the World Tree was an axis that connected the entire cosmology, the North Star sat upon the very top of the World Tree – which is where the tradition of placing a star at the top of the tree comes from.”

I don’t know how much of all this is accurate. But in the symbolic context of ritual the parallels matter more than the accuracy. And there are many parallels here - from the Kabbalah to Nordic mythology. But what strikes me most is its closeness to tantra.

TANTRA

Tantra has been defined by many people in many ways. In the West it’s popularly associated with spiritual sex. Academics sometimes describe it in terms of microcosmic metaphysics – the body as comprised of energetic channels and psychic focal points – and how that internal framework connects to the universe. I describe it as using ritual, visualization, imagination, and mindfulness to intensify meditation and do some sort of spiritual work.

As a long time skeptic of all this woo-woo granola nonsense, I discovered, quite by accident, that this works really well for me. In fact, one stripped down version of tantric visualization is my go-to whenever I’m having serious emotional problems.

The Christmas traditions – especially the non-Christian ones -  seem very tantric. A tree with branches and baubles look like the chakra and nadi system. The North Star looks kind’ve like a crown chakra. And in many tantric practices the self is dissolved and expelled out the body to embody a deity. What better symbolic avenue is there than a chimney and jolly old Saint Nick?

I recently attended a seminar on the Chöd ceremony. This Tibetan practice involves dissolving your sense of self into the central pranic channel and expelling it out the crown chakra to become a wrathful goddess. The goddess then dismembers the body you just left, summoning a group of hungry ghosts to feast on it.

All of this sounds quite gruesome, but having practiced it it starts to make sense. It rests upon what the instructor called a “double-bind”. You satisfy your personal demons through diminishing your body - what people most commonly associate with their sense of self. Either way you win - just calling them to the feast identifies them. Serving them food not only attempts to satisfy them, but is an ego diminishing act of compassion. 

FAMILIAR AND ALIEN

While I like the practice, I experienced a sense of disjointedness in the class. We were attempting to chant in a foreign language with difficult pronunciation, using a traditional drum (a damaru) which was tricky to use. A few students had a thigh bone trumpet (a kangling) used to call hungry ghosts to dinner, which also took a bit of practice to use. It was awkward.

There is something special about using sacred implements that are not of your own culture. One can make the argument an ancient language or a thighbone horn are more special because they’re alien. But in the East there is also great store set in using structures imbued with familiar meaning. They use deities ingrained in lore, injected from repetitive underscoring from generations of belief. As a Texan I would rather use a chuckwagon dinner bell than a thighbone horn because it has more cultural significance to my individual mind (I wrote a bit about updating the practice in this manner here).

In Christmas these structures already surround us and are reemphasize continually.

REMYTHOLOGY

Christmas has always been isolating. I’m not Christian and I’m not Caucasian. From Dickensian Carolers to nativity scenes, virtually every part of the iconography growing up felt alienating. My friend – an expat in China – has the opposite problem. And my girlfriend suffered the same way when we lived abroad. To her Christmas was special, so she attempted to draw her culture around her.

We’d throw parties and put up lights. We’d play Christmas movies and make mulled wine. I’d usually find a cheap Santa hat to wear around the house.

Folklorist Arnold Van Gennep described rites as consisting of the liminal, a no man’s land between two states, in this case the sacred and the mundane. We demarcate that naturally by taking time off, making special foods, traveling to meet family, and listening to specialized music. But for me it’s not enough. Somehow, these secondary elements can emphasize the hollowness at the center of the ritual. In America, it’s symbolized in the crass commercialization of the holidays. But personally, when you feel alone, when your family isn’t invested, or when you feel disconnected in a far off land, you miss the authenticity even more. If you want to hack the culture around you, you’ve gotta do it just right.

HACKING CULTURE

Creating your own ritual by hacking culture isn’t as weird as it would seem. You see bits of it here and there - electric prayer wheels, or this DJ priest who combines techno, projected visuals, and Buddhist scripture to emphasized mantra in a temple in Japan. At the turn of the century, Western occultists like Aleister Crowley traveled East and reverse engineered ritual, combining them with Western esotericism for secret societies like Thelema and Ordo Templi Orientis. And those eventually permeated down to college fraternities and sororities. 

We already use outdated tools and implements (and use them only on special occasions) - knives, chalices, candle, etc - because it charges them with the exotic. There is a validity to using another culture’s accoutrements. But what if you could take advantage of the tools of the trade here in America during the holidays? What would an American Christmas Tantra look like?

KRIS KRINGLE, THE ALL-COMPASSIONATE

A few weeks ago, I attempted this by visualizing myself as the Christmas tree. My central channel was the trunk and psychic balls of energy hovered around it like ornaments. I dissolved myself into the central line and visualized myself moving up to the glowing North Star, the crown chakra. I imagined myself exiting through the chimney  - out of my “house” and body to become Santa Claus. I then visualized myself giving and giving to all the other chimneys of the world.

I don’t think there is as much of a “double bind” in this “Santa Tantra” as there is in the Chöd. But the powerful act of totally giving felt like a super charged loving-kindness meditation, one that was fueled by the diminishment of the self. I imagined my bag getting lighter and lighter. I gave up my red velvet coat and hat, shed my own skin, and entered a state of faceless awareness. In some Buddhist traditions they talk about the Clear Light - a sensation of bare awareness that exists behind the mindstream. I didn’t feel like I was Santa at that point. I didn’t feel like I was any person - I just was. And somehow imagining it happening to another mythic being seemed to make it work better.

A TANTRIC MIRACLE

On December 24th I visited my family. Over the last few years we’ve been working on our shaky relationship to this adopted culture. My mom threw a Christmas party earlier in the month, though most of it was just an excuse for other Indian immigrants to get together. We got a tree (a real one!) and decorated it. My mom made an Indian feast on Christmas Eve. 

But at around midnight, when not a creature is stirring, I don the sacred vestiture: a necklace of manically blinking Christmas lights and a Santa hat. I pull up the “Classic Christmas” playlist on Spotify and softly pump Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer through earbuds. The lights are all off except a glow from the Christmas tree and the fireplace I sit cross legged in front of. In Hindu rituals, food offerings (prasāda) are blessed by the divine and consumed at the conclusion of the ceremony. Mine – milk and cookies for Santa – are within easy reach by the fire.

The actual meditation progresses well. I can’t say if the full ceremony makes it any better, nor if I gain some deep spiritual attainment, but I slip into that same state of pure awareness. It remains with me after I’m done, while I dunk my cookies and munch on them in the soft silence of blinking and flickering lights.

It’s not the meditation that has given me this deep sense of satisfaction. For the first time I don’t feel a sense of hollowness on this day. It’s like finding the last, long-missing jigsaw piece and finally sliding it into the surrounding puzzle.

Tonight I feel like I belong.

photocred: Santa carving by ahoi polloi, sapta chakra (creative domain), Tibetan ritual implements by Jean-Pierre Dalbéra, Santa Coke ad by Insomnia Cured Here, chalice by wht_wolf9653, Christmas ornament by Nick Amoscato

Glass Half Full Day Day 25: Mythology

One of the best things about rap is the way artists continually remythologize themselves. Ludacris “gave Bill Gates some binoculars and said look out for me!” while Drake reminds us that he and his crew “started from the bottom now we here”.

On week 3 of my experiment to tally click pessimism, I realize just how much I continually create my own story in small moments throughout the day.

Here’s my data:

ANXIETY

One thing I noticed this week is that I’m not noting detailed, minute anxiety - like why I’m picking my lip. I used to count all of this in my dynamic meditation experiment several years ago. That might be something to add as I progress.

The small bits of anxiety I did notice this week were:

1. Interpersonal events, like whether a food delivery order would go ok in the handoff.

2. Decision making. For example, when trying to decide where to go out to eat, I got nervous over whether my choice of food would be perfect.

3. Unusual feelings. I recently had several work-related successes and it lead to nervousness. I’m not used to success at work, and this anxiety emerged from a sense of difference, which added on to a host of identity issues.

4. Lack of worry. Momentary anxiety reared its head when I didn’t have anything to fret about. I could feel my mind actively searching. But this wasn’t future projected. It was just being nervous and anxious in the present, which was really weird.

MEALANCHOLY

I also felt that same sort of momentary negativity with sadness.

Last week I mentioned a sense of sadness for no reason, one connected to awe. This week I had a deep sense of feeling stuck in amber as everything went by, and it reminded me of an episode of Parks and Rec. Ron Swanson, the show’s old school paragon of gruff masculinity, is teaching the boys in the area to camp. It’s filled with misery - a smoky fire, baked beans, real manly stoic stuff - while the rival version of the Girl Scouts has a smorgasbord of fun activities courtesy of their eternally optimistic leader, Lesley Knope.

Ron’s boys abandon him for Lesley’s version of the Scouts, and he’s left alone. Lesley asks him to enter the circle of warmth and community but he quietly refuses. The world has past him by, but it’s who he is, and he will not change. For Ron it’s not a depressed hopelessness, but one filled with an odd sense of peace and acceptance.

At first glance, it’s not a cynical, future projection of bad times to come. But I think the sadness is very similar to loneliness and creates a negative mythology. It assumes there are no others like you, and as time goes on the world moves in a way that selects fewer people like you.

SPONTANEOUS OPTIMISM

But there was also a lot of positivity this week.

I had several spontaneously optimistic thoughts looking towards the future, often powered by gratitude. I thought about how I was lucky being born in this time, that everything was working out for me. And that’s a rarity - I have to deliberately practice gratefulness, so having it manifest on its own was huge. I also spontaneous reframed several negative statements by immediately telling myself “what if I make the perfect choice?”

And while this felt good for me, it also effected others. At one point Lydia said something cynical and I automatically asked her “What if this turns out perfect? What if all this worry is for nothing?”

This project is quite selfish, but moments like this spur me on even more, showing me how I can potentially become a person who uplifts those around me.

And that lead me to times when friends cheered me up. My old roommate use to be my confidant for all the drama that went on in my college years. After I moaned over a new trial he’d say “yeah, but at least things are interesting, right?” It’s a good story, and isn’t it even better if it’s an underdog tale, when, like Drake says, you started from the bottom?

A NEW IMPLEMENTATION INTENTION

My reflections this week helped me update my protocol.

I naturally future project cynicism and cherry pick evidence from the past to bolster that prophecy. Why not hack that? From now on, after reframing the situation, I’m also going to dip into the past to select a bit of positive evidence.

Let’s take the earlier example of a food delivery gone wrong.

Once I notice myself future projecting nervousness at how it could potentially go wrong I will:

[CLICK my tally counter] + [REFRAME = “what if this delivery goes perfeectly”] + [FIND POSITIVE PAST EVIDENCE = “the last time I ordered something it went perfectly”]

What’s interesting is how so many rappers do this. They take all the bad things of the past and use it to tell a better story where they become great. Your identity may be your past, present, and future, but active reframes retell that story from moment to moment.

But I’ll leave Kanye and Eminem to become rap gods. I’ll just settle for becoming an optimist.

photocred: statue of Alexander by Herbert Frank, boat by lensnmatter, broken car mirror by Agustín Ruiz

the Problem With Triggers, Cadence, and Task Switching

Habits are not enough

The typical narrative in productivity is that you’ve done all the heavy lifting once establishing a strong, daily habit. 

I’ve experienced the exact opposite.

These days, many of my multi-year habits have been getting shaky. In fact, it seems all habits involving complicated skills eventually erode themselves under the weight of progress, especially when stacked. I’ve pinpointed 3 problems with advancing habits - issues with:

1. Eroded implementation intention. A good habit is a clean if-then protocol. If you start cross training (which you should do) then it’s not the same habit anymore. When I attempted switching up my workout routine depending on the day of the week, the fold naturally got a bit messy because suddenly I wasn’t just doing one thing in one place. I might be walking outside, I might be climbing, I might be going to the gym.

2. Cadence in progress. Progress is a weird stagger step. Some people describe it as two steps forward and one step back, but I think it’s worse -  it’s  a drunk tango dancer trying to walk a straight line. Unfortunately, this nonlinear progress is difficult to handle, especially emotionally. 

3. Task switching costs. Whenever you switch thought patterns, there’s going to be a lag in focus. This is particularly salient when you’re trying to stack habits into a fully fledged routine. The goal isn’t one habit - it’s a host.

Luckily there are a number of counters to these issues.

For sloppy implementation, it’s focusing on crisping up the initial habit. A few options are:

1. Focusing on the time to start. As soon as the trigger occurs, focus on the next minute task.

2. Focusing on some small external thing. I have an experiment I’d like to try on tying habits to ring tones, then triggering them 66 times in a day. This could potentially not only speed up the habit building process (on average a habit takes 66 days to form), but would  shore up the trigger response of an already established habit.

3. Using click training. Click training works by identifying and rewarding the exact moment a trigger-response occurs. This yet another way to zoom in and shore up that tiny moment.

When you’ve got a lack of continued, smooth growth, it causes emotional friction. You start blaming yourself which in turn causes energy dips throughout the day. Some counters include:

1. Walking away. Sometimes it’s worth it to just stop and refocus. I tend to just fight and fight without really accomplishing anything, which just leaves me exhausted.

2. Creating a discrete end. Even when I’m having a good day I tend to have no stopping point  to some of my habits, like writing. This intersects with good planning and seeing the big picture, so you know for sure that your bit of work in one day will contribute to a longer strategy. In Deep Work, Cal Newport advocates having an ending ritual to shut off his brain.

3. Momentum. Getting a few easy wins early in the day by moving around my schedule.

4. Setting a trip wire to know when to engage anti procrastination strategies.

5. Priming the next task. This seems to bypass the task switching cost.

Marriage counselor Dr. David Schnarch believes that all long-term relationships go through shaky times. It’s built in to the system. People grow, often because of each other. That change in character naturally changes the relationship, which can result in interpersonal turbulence. 

While the past ideas are solutions for specific problems, I’m beginning to view this process as a similarly inevitable issue, one that must reflect an addition to my self-development model:

1. Establish a tiny habit using implementation intention and mental contrasting

2. Once it’s a super habit, extend it by cycling what you do in one session.

3. Deal with energy issues as you collect multiple habits.

4. Begin cross training that habit across different days (which seems to answer cadence issues)

5. As the habit becomes shaky, reestablish it in a way that encompasses the cross training

Over the last two weeks I’ve implemented a number of these protocols. For writing, my issues of starting disappeared once I focused on tying the habit to starting the Pomodoro timer.  Whenever I remember to watch a climbing video at the end of my previous habit, all the empty time I spend dithering around disappears, and I get to the gym faster.

But the biggest protocol I’ve experimented with is compacting my routine. I’ll go to the climbing gym, do a cardio workout, then do some writing, and meditate between Pomodoro sets before doing some climbing. I think movement maintains energy throughout the day and a change in scene can give me an extra boost. I have a theory that artificially constraining practice time is also a really good way to cross train, and has certainly benefited me in meditation. 

This type of condensing is not only good for efficiently stacking habits, but it plays them off each other. Meditation gives me rest from writing, which in turn recharges me from my initial workout. At the same time, I’m cross training, extending my practice, and harnessing momentum. 

This will be particularly key the more skills I stack on to the entire system. The goal for all of this is to master multiple skills at once while maintaining core lifestyle habits.

You’ll notice I haven’t said much about cadence, which is also key to a broad science of polymathy. I’m still getting a hold on the messy pattern of how naturally staggered progress works.

But I’m hopeful. As this project continues I see more beauty and opportunity in that chaos. And that bodes very well for the future. 

photocred: stairs by Matt, lightsaber duel by Morgz, steamroller by nex230

Glass Half Full Day 16: The Thanksgiving Blues

During the last few weeks I’ve been tally clicking my pessimism. It culminated in a fantastic long weekend with family and friends. While the postcard image of a Thanksgiving feast is family seated peacefully around a dinner table expressing gratefulness, the actuality is saturated with worry. This was definitely the case with me. I clicked away while fretting constantly about the cook on the turkey or if the guests would socialize well.

Here’s my data so far:

On Day 5 there were two mental moments that I can only describe as a coalescence - a gathering feeling of subtle mental tensing that is a precursor to a thought. As I automatically zoomed in to observe it, it dissipated, not quite crystalizing into full blown negativity. This happened a lot in my first attempt at “dynamic meditation” 5 years ago. While the original experiment didn’t last very long, I started constantly noticing these precursors and dispersing them. My friend once described something similar. He said he sometimes had the ability to banish negativity by what felt like relaxing the “muscles” of the brain.

TANGLED TIME AND IDENTITY

The other interesting issue was entangled timelines.

The flow of how anxiety progresses is fascinating. I’ll get frustrated, future project how bad my life will be, then dip into the past and cherry pick evidence for that failed future. This happens in an instant, and it takes practice to zoom in and untangled that web.

Loneliness came up a lot in these two weeks. If I zoomed in, it unfolded as a sadness of how this time in my life is devoid of any of the rich sense of community it once had. But if I look even more deeply it’s the future projection of a life of where I’m always lonely that’s so difficult to bear. 

This is a point where depression and anxiety merge with identity issues. It makes me understand why Eastern religions are so obsessed with the sense of self as the root of all suffering. All these pessimistic projections rest on the belief of a persistent identity that’s not good enough.

Thanksgiving really is a great metaphor for this. Someone once said that anxiety is looking towards the future with worry, while depression is looking towards the past. I tend to agree. The antidote to depression appears to be gratitude. It underscores past experiences that were good instead of what most of us do, which is artificially emphasize the bad. Once gratitude gets going, it feels like counting blessings that we haven’t earned, and we begin to feel lucky.

Affirmations as I’m doing them now appear to be the antidote to worry. In the absence of evidence, you can equally reframe the current situation as turning out well.

It is supremely ironic that giving thanks is a solution to a problem that doesn’t actually come up on Thanksgiving. No wonder people are so stressed out.

But anxiety and depression aren’t all there is - there are outliers in the tangled knots of negativity in my head.

OUTLIERS

The first is jealousy, which can be an issue with the present. I’ll scroll on Instagram and won’t like how I measure up to what I see. Gratitude is good for that, but a really good counter is metta - essentially wishing people well as people who, like us, just want to live a good life free from suffering. It’s a knack - and for me it’s a practice of understanding them as complete people rather than snippets we’re given glimpses of on social media.

This is also temporally entangled. When I zoom in to observe the emotion, I’m not just comparing my current state to them; it’s also a future projection of how I will never be the person I’m jealous of, a future lens to judge the present.

There are moments of anxiety and sadness that are even more difficult to parse. There was a moment while I was driving around before Thanksgiving where I looked up at the sky, with its expanse of clouds slowly moving in the distance, and felt utterly overwhelmed with a deep sadness. 

In this Men’s Health article, Michael Behar discusses awe and its powerful effect on humans. I’ve personally felt this sense of glory and wonder on my travels. It’s both deeply healing and life affirming. The Stoics might call it a view from above - a realization that what I’m worried about is like making a mountain out of a molehill. 

But sometimes such experiences give me the feeling that I will never be anything but insignificant. It reminds me of my mortality, frailty, and lack of true agency. Is this pessimism? I don’t know.

NEW REFRAMES AND SPONTANEOUS OPTIMISM

In the past weeks I’ve found new reframes to match these unusual outliers. Some great ones come from Arnold Schwarzenegger in the documentary Pumping Iron. In it he says that sometimes he feels the pain he experiences in the gym is overwhelming, a pain few people will ever endure. But that’s how he knows he’s going to be one of the greats. I like this idea of loving pain as a harbinger of better times.

Another reframe is a simple question that’s particularly salient on thanksgiving - “What if it all turns out perfect?” Lydia has posed this question a lot, and it makes my brain hurt. For a moment it’s as though my mind is trying to hold both modalities – the negative and positive – at once. I can only assume this is a good thing.

On day 8 I had several spontaneous moments of utter optimism. They’ve periodically come up since then, but it reminds me of an old Reddit thread describing a girl click training happiness. This is much more in line with how classic click training works. It also makes me wonder if there are two separate trainings here: 1) what I’m doing now, clicking AWAY negativity and 2) what this girl was doing - increasing and rewarding the act of having good thoughts. There seems to be an overlap, but only time will tell which one is better.

—

It’s been a struggle changing the course of this river of worry. I was distraught about my cooking and if it would turn out well. It did, and all the tension was needless. My mind has already turned to new fears. But what if, as Lydia is so eager to remind me, those also turn out well?

photocred: turkey by Carol von Canon

Glass Half Full: 90 Days of Tally Clicking Pessimism to Optimism

“What fresh hell awaits me now?”

That’s the usual thought going through my head before I open my email.

“What’s the point when it’s all definitively going to end in ruin?”

It’s really a wonder I get anything done at all.

I’ve always considered myself a pessimist, but to figure out just how bad it is I decided to take every related psychological test I could get my hands on.

I found that not only am I a pessimist (rated 100% pessimist on one test), but I have low self-esteem, high anxiety, low subjective happiness, depression, and high mental fatigue, all of which I believe is highly connected to my mindset. No matter how good I get at manipulating behavioral techniques, it’s hard to get anywhere if you’re starting with no gas in the tank.

A few weeks ago I had a conversation with a friend who was dealing with a lot - relationship issues, work problems - just life problems in general. He understandably felt pretty down, but I actually saw his situation as immensely positive. I felt that he was just about to break through on everything, and it made me realize just how subjective the pessimism/optimism scale in my own head is.

Someone once defined anxiety as “worrying about the future”. But it’s often not so much about the facts, but the interpretation of the data that builds in a prophecy of the future. Things will go bad. And it stands in opposition to the other end of the spectrum, where optimist believe it’ll all eventually go well. Both stances appear self fulfilling.

And that’s reflected in my self-talk.

The problem for me is that mental health is hard to chart. People tell you to keep your chin up, but it’s rare to see people actually change. People don’t stick to mental hygiene techniques, and if they do it’s difficult to see if once a day psychological work, like meditating or affirmations, carry over to what is a systemwide problem.

Tally clicking, with its emphasis on catching urges in the moment, seems like a good method to change this and perhaps make a deep, psychological change. I’ve used it to successfully counter a number of vices, from curbing alcohol to eating healthy. It offers daily metrics and a process to observe tendencies that pop up throughout the day. It also has the potential to ingrain an alternate behavior.

To test this, I’m going to take 90 days to click every instance of cynicism running through my head. But my added step will be to replace my normal inner dialogue with an optimistic interpretive message. Things like:

“What if everything is going completely to plan?”
”What if this is all leading to something really good?”
”What if the bad things now are briefly eclipsing what will eventually become really good?”
”What if all the struggles I’m facing are about to break, causing me to take a new path that will get me something awesome?”
”What if denial now is saving a wonderful experience for my future self?”

I think tally clicking might hold the key to rewriting my “base code” of operation.

Unlike my other 90 day challenges, I’m going to try something different and blog regularly about my thoughts during this challenge as they come up.

photocred: glass half full by Jess C, depressed by Gianfranco Blanco, tally counters by JaulaDeArdilla

On and Off the Wagon: Tally Clicking as a Reset Mechanism for Vice Removal

Old habits die hard - in fact, they may never die

In an MIT study, researchers studied neuron behavior in rats when they associated cues with rewards. When the rewards were removed, the rats reverted to their previous behavior. But when they were returned, the patterns continued as though they had been there all along. 

Ann Garbiel, the professor of neuroscience in MIT’s Department of Brain and Cognitive science, stated that “it is as though, somehow, the brain retains a memory of the habit context, and this pattern can be triggered if the right habit cues come back.”

That’s great for good habits. It’s not so good for the bad ones.

Over the last several months, I’ve gone on trips that have reignited almost all my old vices. Smoking, beer, eating badly, alcohol in general. And when I got back home, all the urges that I spent time getting rid of individually (each for 3+ months) came back in force.

So I did a reset. For 31 days I’ve clicked away all urges. This was a test of 2 mechanisms:

1. How would tally clicking work for multiple habits?

2. How well would it work for resetting vice removal?

Here’s my data:

Qualitatively, it felt a lot harder. I had strong urges, mostly for alcohol. I think in part this was because I was retraining 4 different vices at once. It’s also been getting cold, and the urge to get out and have a beer at a warm bar is appealing. My monthly cheat fell smack dab in the middle of all this. And that cheat came right when Lydia came back from a work trip. The absence and return of a significant other seems to affect my mood and my cravings. I also still don’t think I have a good method of dealing with relaxation and getting out with regards to alcohol.

But those were all internal measurements. Externally, it worked just as well as any other time. At no point was I remotely close to breaking (outside of the official cheat). And I keep forgetting how difficult that would have been before for any one vice. I tend to look at the numbers and sigh, forgetting the the numbers are for urges, not indulging.

Happily the more salient problem isn’t knowing if the technique works, but knowing when I’m done with the reset.

I attempted 2 methods to get a feel for this:

First, I took the SRHI to determine whether the action was fully automatic. The action I assessed was “clicking my vices and watching them go past without indulging in them”.

The result: 76/84. 

And the only reason it was this low was due to a few questions on not thinking about the action. Automatic behaviors are thoughtless. But the action I was assessing was about mindfully seeing an urge, so of course it was going to be artificially low. The other question that wasn’t perfect was one of identity - which is a complicated question. Am I person who “clicks away my vices”? Well…sometimes. Meanwhile, frequency, automaticity, and feeling weird NOT doing the task were all rated as high as possible.

Second, I tried seeing how low my clicks were at the end of my reset and compared them to individual vice removal clicks towards the end of my 3 months. Towards the end of the reset, I was getting anywhere from 10 - 20 clicks. Dividing by 4 vices, that’s 3.74. For the previous vices I have data on, the last 10 days were at:

• Alcohol: 0-6

• Food: 0-4

• Beer: 0-4

I did a reset right after my first trip, and got it down to 0-6.

I do not know why this chart reflects a better reset than my most recent one, especially since halfway through I had an official cheat. And for the last 10 days I was actually cheating (one of my trips was during this time). Which is bizarre. And it’s something I’ve noticed before - actually cheating is bad and counter to the ends of this project, but it results in fewer urges.

This is all rather ad-hoc. There is an overlap between alcohol and beer. The older vices I removed returned quicker. But it did seem to be a more rapid return in general, lending a bit of personal creedance to the study that suggested we have patterns already formed, ready to switch over.

This entire process reminds me of how people talk about detoxing. I have a friend that does a one month food detox earlier in the year, and I know people who do a “dry January”.

But like challenges, I feel people do it in the wrong order. Challenges work better once you’ve established a solid habit. Using a challenge levels them up because when you go back down to your regular habit, you naturally tend to execute them at slightly elevated levels.

Perhaps this is the best way to use a detox - not to kickstart anything, but to get back to an already established level once you inevitably fall off the wagon.

And I’m glad I fell off. One of my trips was to Grand Rapids, Michigan, known for its beer, where I sampled the best I’ve ever had. Other vices contributed to great experiences of shared friendship and exploration, all situations I do not regret and probably won’t regret in the future.

I enjoyed falling off the wagon. Perhaps the key is falling off – and getting back on – well.  

photocred: wagon by Conal Gallagher

Answer Bag: An Intro to Meditation

A friend asked:

“Where would be a good place to start with meditation in your opinion?”

Personally, I think starting out with single pointed concentration is best. Get a stop watch with a physical start and stop button. Choose a mental object to focus on, something that's simple and clear - I used to visualize a candle and flame. Start the timer when you visualize the object, stop when there's any minute flicker or change in concentration on that object - the average for beginners is like 8 seconds. Be honest, anal retentive, and harsh. Record your time. Repeat twice. Stop for the day.

Give it a few months. It's like weight lifting - once you establish this base, you'll have the "muscles" to do other practices.

The key is really just consistency across time. Here's an article I wrote on just that in Tricycle.

To summarize the article, I advocate:

• Recording practice sessions on a spreadsheet. Recording is another means of adherence, getting you back to the habit when there’s an inevitable interruption. It’s also a way to track data - like how long you can sustain concentration. The Quantified Self Movement talks a lot about how beneficial this is for improvement. And if you think about it in terms of video games and learning, it makes more sense - the regular feedback lets you know where you are, which makes trying to beat your last record more addictive.

• Using implementation intention (a specific if-then protocol for when the habit is done - “after I take a shower I will immediately meditate”. A habit is a fold in the mind, and making that fold razor sharp has been proven to increase the efficiency and likelihood of habit formation.

• Writing out a mental contrasting exercise. Describe the emotional weight of what it means to succeed meditating, what it means to fail, and stumbling blocks you’ll likely encounter in making meditation a habit. Thinking things out in both a negative and positive way has been proven to increase the likelihood of the habit sticking.

• Starting with incredibly tiny sessions - like a minute a day. You can always expand it once it’s established as part of your routine. It also makes you more likely to perform the task on bad days until it becomes normal - then you’ve got a solid base to expand.

Addendum: I think this is a great place to begin meditation as a practice for the long haul. If you’ve got psychological issues, like depression or anxiety, this isn’t going to magically make things better in a way that other techniques can. There are tantra visualizations that can make you feel better fast. Focusing on the body and methods to ground yourself can also help right now.

I also advocate clear visual objects of concentration like a candle and a flame. Why? Because things like the breath are vague. Does breath mean the feeling above your lip, the movement of your chest or the feeling in your nose? There’s not as much of a clear delineation between doing the practice well and fudging it. The same goes for conceptual objects, like compassion. I think they can be great later on, but not in the beginning when you’re just trying to establish deliberate practice. Simple visual objects are also good because there are a lot of other techniques that involve visualizations. If you’re starting, you might as well kill two birds with one stone.

photocred: candle and flame by webhamster

Giving Up Alcohol: 90 Days of No Drinking

It feels weird drinking again.

After 90 days of no alcohol, my first drink is an American peated whiskey that Lydia brought back from a trip to Washington, one she claimed was as good as the Islay single malts I adore. It sat on our kitchen counter for the duration of this challenge. At first, that caused a lot urges, but towards the end it –like most instances of cravings – faded into the background. 

I’m finally tasting it (and she’s right, it IS that good!), but as with beer and food, the drink isn’t causing any urges, even during the act of consuming it. I’m appreciating it, but oddly, the craving aspect just isn’t there. It’s just an act of scheduled appreciation.

Experiment: Creating artificial cravings

Like my previous challenges, I used my tally clicking system to record urges for any alcohol across 90 days. This time, I tested the hypothesis that artificially exacerbating cravings would change the graph. If it’s just a matter of a certain number of urges to get over, pushing them early should result in the entire cycle finishing earlier, contributing to a faster, more efficient quitting process. I did this for one week.

To do this I watched shows like Mad Men and Lucifer, watched cocktail making videos, liquor commercials, and mini-documentaries on crafting spirits. I started writing down my best memories with alcohol, and several nights even poured brandy in a glass, stuck my nose in, and sniffed it repeatedly to conjure cravings.

Results

In general, the quitting process was very similar to quitting beer, cigarettes, and processed carbs. It was easy to ignore urges and there was never a point when I felt like I’d break down, even while deliberately summoning cravings.

As for my artificial exacerbation experiment, my hypothesis seemed to be true. On day 60 my SRHI for the habit of observing and ignoring urges was at a 79 - close to super habit status. But I didn’t take a snapshot of the SRHI on day 60 for other quitting attempts. And while there were fewer average urges for alcohol versus food in the 3rd month, it’s unclear to me whether the difference is significant enough to warrant changing my protocols (average food cravings for 3rd month = 2.26, average alcohol cravings for 3rd month = 1.58).

In terms of surface level results, I didn’t really see much of a difference in weight loss (I’ve been weighing myself every day). 

But I took a blood test and my ALT, uric acid, and iron levels are in healthy ranges, when before they were not. These have relationships to alcohol and liver functioning, so that was to be expected - it was just nice to see external confirmation. And my triglycerides have gone down considerably. It’s not the best before and after snapshot because the last blood test I took was 5 months ago, when I had already started my healthy eating plan.

As for deeper, self control results, the challenge was a fantastic success. I did conference networking, parties where everyone was drinking and pushing alcohol on me, and even went to 6th street in Austin and hung out at bars all night without drinking. It also worked through some of my particular triggers - grilling and fancy restaurants - with ease.

However, I definitely needed a release, and indulged in other vices, like hookah and cigars as a crutching mechanism. This valve release is an important issue, that I’ll get into in another post.

4 triggers of alcohol cravings

Observing the urges - and therefore the tangled set of psychological associations - uncoil and clarify was particularly interesting. Cravings mainly arose in four instances: social situations, boredom, as a method to relax, and in situations where I thought it was a matter of convenience. 

An urge to grab a drink functioned as a shielding mechanism when things got socially uncomfortable, or when I felt tense and nervous, especially during awkward silences. An easy fix was using vipassana to observe how the tightness and tingliness that comprise the emotion spread across my face and chest during such encounters. Socializing without alcohol took some getting used to. I found that people started repeating themselves or acting odd, and I had to remind myself that they were probably in a different state of mind than I was.

My lack of a steady community was an overlapping factor between socializing and boredom. I crave socializing, and I usually satisfy it in the shallowest way - by going to a bar to be around people. Luckily, I’m exploring more groups in Houston, which, combined with my planning habit, lets me know what options I have on any given day.

But drinking is mostly just an easy way to fill boredom. Without it, my mind naturally tried to find other things to do. During this time I started getting involved in other activities - from group events, to joining a mountain climbing gym, to just hitting up the apartment pool.

Alcohol and relaxing at the end of the day have gone hand in hand with me for a long time. It’s ritualistic. Opening a bottle of wine or getting a drink with a friend is a signal that conversation is officially about to happen. I found that replacing it – using relaxation exercises, pranayama, and mobilization – helped, as did going to the pool. Getting a bit of sunlight as soon as I woke up also caused me to get sleepier earlier. 

Drinking as a matter of convenience is the hardest thing to nail down. There’s a feeling of expectation, but not real pressure. It’s just easier to order a beer than figure out good drinking options, or if you want something that isn’t water. This wasn’t so bad, but it’s a subtlety that came up a lot.

But why do you want to stop drinking?

My limit these days is pretty low, usually two drinks. During the challenge I had a number of people who asked “but why do you want to quit if you don’t have problems?”. 

I recently watched a Netflix documentary - The Truth about Alcohol - which discussed why alcohol - any amount - isn’t a good idea. Alcohol is connected with cancer. People tend to consume significantly more when they are drinking. And it interrupts self regulation, and that’s particularly bad for this project.

But I’m not doing it for any of those perfectly valid reasons. What bothers me is the cavalierness we all have when it comes to alcohol. 

During one of my aforementioned meetings a boisterous member asked if I wanted a shot of crappy whiskey at 7 pm. And everyone was drinking beer. I was able to notice that people weren’t often drinking alcohol to truly appreciate it - they just needed something in their hand. Drinking isn’t a personality, but for so many people, it is. And all of this definitely applies to me.

One method I used to spur on urges was to write memories that I had with regards to alcohol. Like a mental contrasting exercise, I included both the good and the bad.

I discovered I have a lot of bad memories. I have a lot of good memories, but most of that goodness derives from closeness with friends, moments of deep connection and a shared community. What I learned is that alcohol is an easy way to get that, but not the best way out of the possibilities. Saying goodby, even only for this 90 day challenge was oddly sad. It felt like saying goodbye to an innocence that allowed me to be wild and carefree and have people love me for it.

Connoisseurship & habit circles

This test helped me hone in on what exactly I like about drinking.

Drinking regularly, even in small amounts makes my appreciation of alcohol decrease dramatically. I don’t really care that much about any given beer. It’s just a habit when going to a bar. And I’ve noticed that change even in a week of drinking it again. I estimate that at the low end I ended up saving $600 from not drinking across three months, which makes me wonder how well I can up connoisseurship through buying higher end alcohol and only drinking it once a month.

A climber friend of mine once described how the community doesn’t really drink that much because they usually want to get up early to climb. When I don’t have the easy, liquid option of getting rid of my issues, it forces me to naturally find ways that are better. I think having more hobbies and activities helps a lot - it forces you to form a family of good habits that promotes things like better sleep, outdoorsy-ness, waking up early, going to bed earlier, better food decisions, more robust communities of people who are interested in what you’re interested in, not just their interest in drinking etc. For climbers, climbing is the high they’re chasing. 

But if I analyze my circle of behaviors, socializing generally equals drinking at night. I don’t think there’s something intrinsically special about those people with a good family of habits. Rather, I think they just happen to fall into this circle of behaviors that supports one another. The key for any real system of self-help figuring out how to artificially kickstart this.

What does drinking look like in my future?

It’s Houston restaurant month and I’ve ordered the wine pairing at an award-winning restaurant and it is blowing me away. The way the wines and mezcal pair and change my dishes is something that I appreciate in an intensely human way. It is, for me, life worth living.

I like drinking.

There’s no question that I’d indulge if I’m appreciating terroir. If I’m in Scotland or Kentucky, or provenances in France, or the Caribbean, I’m going to drink scotch and whiskey, cognac and rum. 

I’m going to splurge on higher brands.

I’m also going to drink when there’s a moment of shared experience - my friend’s 40th birthday is coming up, and I’d love to have a quiet drink of communion with him. It’s just part of the ritual. 

But those exceptions, when I actually look at them, are exceedingly rare. And a once a month indulgence, as with food, might help me reap the benefits both worlds – Epicureanism without rigid asceticism. 

I’ve decided to allow all forms of drinking (Including beer) until I finish this article. Naturally, it’s taken longer than I expected. Alcohol is still an easy release of stress and boredom at the end of the day. This is something I need to replace, and is inline with my long standing view that forming an end of the day routine is paramount. The alternative seems to be what I do now - flail about and grasp at the easiest options. 

As I regress to my normal levels of imbibing during the rest of the week I acknowledge that the first drink was noteworthy, as was the wine pairing at the restaurant. But were the rest? Will I remember them in any significant way?

More and more I’m beginning to think - “no”.

photo credit: whiskey glass by Invaluable Official, red wine by Micke Jakobsson, whiskey collection by Ian McKellar, empty glasses by Micke Jakobsson

The Power of Planning

Lydia and I have a bit of downtime between stops, so glance at a Google map to see what’s around. The map has around 50 markers pinned all over the city, from stores and restaurants to scenic views and festivals. I prepped it over a week ago in advance of our road trip to Austin, Texas.

It’s a first for me.

Despite traveling the globe for a decade I’ve always been a fly by the seat of my pants kind’ve guy. That usually translates to someone else handling the itinerary, My planning habit has changed that.

Hovering at 75 on the SRHI, my planning routine is just shy of “super habit” status. While sipping a cup of coffee in the morning I pull out my Bullet Journal and update it. The Bullet Journal Method feels perfectly suited to harness my naturally chaotic M.O. With it I can make random pages of thoughts or jot down project notes irrespective of page location, but still index it without skipping a beat.

It also allows me to organize time much more efficiently.  Some wise management luminary once described life as a jar. Fill the jar with sand - the trivial stuff - and you won’t be able to fill it with rocks, symbolic of what’s really important. A better method is to fill it with rocks, then pebbles, then sand.

THE PLANNING DILEMMA

My central “planning dilemma” is the need to do it all. The jar metaphor isn’t just about space, it’s also about time. Planning has shown me just how powerful carving out small portions of a week can be.

Take my next book proposal - a lot of successful writers have advised that you should always be working on something else. When planning, I’ve tried to designate about 40 minutes per week to wrangling together what in my mind seems like a horrendously large project. For comparison, my first two proposals took 9 months each.

Yet in 5 sessions I’ve done a rough draft of the majority of the proposal. This includes an overview, a marketing and competitive analysis, a table of contents, all of my chapter summaries, and an outline of my first sample chapter. A simple, consistent plan has powerful compounding effects. And it appears as though I’m doing two things at once.

ORDER FROM CHAOS

While planning gets me closer to doing everything, in travel it’s seeing everything that’s my main concern. I’m terrible at planning trips, but if I apply the “jot outline” approach, things go well. 

I randomly list out everything I want to do with fixed events acting as anchor points. I structure the rest (the pebbles or sand) around those important rocks, and tasks - like buying tickets or getting a reservation - are assigned based on that model. With both writing and travel planning, this method grows structure from the chaos. 

Lydia usually does the planning by default because she knows I’m not going to do it. A solid planning habit allows me to pick up my share of the emotional load in this, and in other smaller, pesky things. Paperwork, getting back to people, researching a festival, figuring out what parking is like - these all function like sand in that jar metaphor.

STRUCTURED RELAXATION

My mind tends to tense over details, which is why I often opt out of making decisions. But surprisingly, planning is also of great help in relaxing.

I’ve hinted a bit about my concept of Structured Relaxation - when left to my own devices I’ll end up wasting weekends or any time off and end up feeling less rested than before. I try to plan out “weekend menus” to give me options, and planning gives me a place to do it consistently. While I might not check everything off those menus, I do find I’m surprisingly rejuvenated and content at the end of the weekend. It’s a far different feeling than discovering I’ve done nothing but mindlessly scroll on Reddit or Facebook.

STRATEGY

In my last article on planning I talked about long term strategy through mediocrity. A post I recently saw on Brandon Sanderson suggested that he has writing plans for 5 years in the future (and honestly, it’s probably more than that)! That’s something to aspire to, but I’m nowhere near mastering that type of strategy with writing. My problem lies in not knowing how long any give task will take, which is a rather huge issue (though it is something I’m working on). But with other projects  - like knowing how long a habit will take or what vice I intend on quitting next - I’m showing marked improvement on the strategy front.

I still have a lot to learn. The temporal subcategory of the planning dilemma is one of hierarchy across time. You need to work on long-term projects, but the urgency of goals around the corner prevents you. And multitasking can be detrimental when it comes to energy, concentration, and momentum.

The Planning Dilemma - There is no time to do it all
Temporal Corollary - Work on long-term projects is impeded by short term urgency

I think the key is harnessing the right amount of consistency over time. I have a task that I need to finish in a month from now, but I’m only working on it for about 10 minutes per week. Meanwhile, I’m working on my next proposal 40 minutes per week, a task I don’t need accomplished until a lot further off. Clearly, I need to switch this up, assigning 10 to the proposal and 40 for the task due in a month. Carefully labeling and assigning times in terms of time accrual might just be the best way to fit multiple projects into one small jar.

Meanwhile, I’m also researching advanced techniques for project management. This blogger, for example, has a particularly excellent system which uses a Bullet Journal to define, assign a time estimate, and schedule tasks. That then interfaces neatly with a Kanban board to track progress.

—

While driving back from Austin, Lydia remarks on what a great trip she had. We didn’t hit everything on the list, but we met friends and did outdoorsy stuff, tried new restaurants and visited old haunts. We did a lot, and the trip was even better for me because I (for once!) had an active hand in it.

I’m not surprised that I enjoyed my visit, but I am at how much I enjoyed planning it.

Photo credits: jars by callmekato, beach by Cristian Viarisio

Formalizing a Daily Planning Habit

I’ve written about the importance of planning before, but after attending the Dallas-Fort Worth Writer’s Convention this weekend creating a habit has never seemed more important.

I’ve always been bad at it. I’ll pick up a planner and use it for a week or so and then, like all of my habits, it’ll fade away. Across keynote speakers and casual one-on-one conversations throughout the conference, it seemed that success seemed to be a matter of luck. Some person just happen to read and enjoy a writer’s work at the right time and right place. And while that seems disheartening at first, the behavioral hack behind the scenes was the same: all the writers kept constantly sending work out into the world.

Luck can be gamed. And the key is to, as Brandon Sanderson said in one of his lectures, “always be working on something else.”

That makes complete sense but is utterly beyond me without having a long-term planning system that’s solidly in place.

So…

IMPLEMENTATION INTENTION

As soon as I get my coffee and sit down at my desk, I’ll spend just a few minutes going through my bullet journal and updating lists or reading and ranking what I need to do that day. I’ll do a bit more on Monday for the week, but even if I just open up the journal every day the habit will still count.

MENTAL CONTRASTING

A) Positives
The ability to make this a part of my life will help me fill the world with writing arrows, hedging my bets to make success happen. It will also alleviate the feeling of living or dying on one proposal or pitch. This is immensely emotionally important to me. It will also help me significantly improve my craft. It will bring some amount of order to my generally chaotic life. It will help me plan for productivity experiments, and will prevent wasted down time.

It will also help me become a better person.

I think in relationships the concept of mental load is important - it almost always falls on females. I am a person who exacerbates this. I don’t plan for trips, I don’t get what I need done because I’m so disorganized, I don’t have my shit together. This forces the people around me to take up immense slack that I just assume they will carry. To both be free of that nagging feeling of constantly ignoring something in the background and to lessen the load the people I love shouldn’t have to carry is incredibly positive.

B) Obstacles
Not carrying my planner when I go on trips. Grossly overestimating time. Not having a pen on hand. Not feeling like I know it all now, when I think this will be a process of growing and adapting to what works best for me.

B-1) Workarounds
Luckily Lydia is a master of this, and I’ve already interviewed her for best practices. I think I’ll start with the basics and then add different aspects - like the 3 Ships concept or whatnot. A surprising amount of these best practices mimic what process composition writers like Jack Hart and Shani Raja describe when they talk about bringing structure to articles.

I intend to write another post on the ins and outs of this. It’s really a very foreign concept to me, but I can see it doing a lot.

Formalizing a Tally Clicking 90 Day No Alcohol Challenge

The biggest problem with my food was controlling drinking. I’ve discussed quitting – or at least severely curtailing – drinking for a long time. In An Identity Approach to Alcohol: Parts I and 2 I discuss how willpower-eroding it can be, and how counterproductive it can be in developing skills. I discussed pretty much the same thing almost 6 years ago at the very beginning of this project in Habits of Omission. I even successfully completed a 30 Day No Alcohol Challenge.

Back then, I didn’t understand the unmatting process or have the tally clicking system. Now I do.

IMPLEMENTATION INTENTION

Anytime I have an urge to drink alcohol for the next 90 days, I’ll click.

At the end of the day I’ll record the total number of urges for the day.

This is to satisfy my curiosity for the question “How many clicks does it take to remove the habit of wanting to drink alcohol?”

MENTAL CONTRASTING

A) Positives
Separating out the triggers regarding drinking will let me understand how to truly control myself. I think it will help foster greater skill in things like socializing. I think it will also help me make better gains in fat loss. I think it will make me feel better overall, and will help me sleep better. It will help cement the tally clicking process as one that’s replicable and highly efficient. I’ll finally be able to have true control over a habit I just fell into. And I won’t feel like I’m using it as a crutch, either for socializing, having a good time, relaxing at the end of the day, or just feeling bored. I think it will also help me shift to becoming a more active person, perhaps even a morning person, or an outdoor person. It’s a key component of a family of behaviors that will eventually result in a massive identity shift. I think if this works, it will have massive implications in helping other people with their own lives and addiction patterns.

B) Obstacles
Boredom, especially the feeling of release triggered by drinking a glass of wine or going out to a bar, will be a big obstacle. As will the connection between celebration and drinking. I’ve conditioned myself to think that those are all one and the same. I have fear of missing out on unique drinks or experiences. I think it feels like I might have a more difficult time building a community because most of the people I have met or socialized with in the past have been when alcohol was around. I’m worried that it may be awkward.

B-1) Workarounds
I think treating this as an experiment that can always be changed is a good safety net for me. I also think the reintroduction phase of clean eating - namely the potential for having one cheat day a month - offers a psychological respite from the odd fear of never drinking again. I also know that the craving mind isn’t the same as the one that will emerge after 90 days, when the majority of urges will subside.

I think coming up with a list of alternatives for getting out of the house is important. Gong for a walk or a dip in the pool, for example, would deliver a similar hit of joy, contentment, and activity. Honing a nightly ritual might not only give me that similar feeling of release, but also become the beginnings of a sleep ritual for better sleep hygiene, something I’ve also wanted to work on.

I’ve got my spreadsheet ready, let the challenge begin!

90 Days of Flawless Eating

“Chips and queso,” Lydia said. “Oh, and pizza - definitely some deep dish pizza!”

It’s day 90, and for the next few days we intended to do some quality carb binging to celebrate 3 months of absolutely perfect eating using the tally clicking system. 

We just had our queso, but things are already significantly different compared to other attempts at clean eating.

As with beer, the roots of the behavior seem largely neutralized.

Here’s the data:

Qualitative Observations

Across the 90 days urges started to drop away quite quickly. I noticed several unique triggers and a heightened sensitivity to sugar and alcohol. 

But from a behavioral perspective, my adherence was spectacular. As with beer, my control never got close to wavering. Furthermore, this control was in full effect in my regular life, rather than the normal method of avoiding experiences. I went on a long road trip, where I stopped for lunch at a gas station and ate a hot dog with fixings but without the bun. I ate Tex Mex with no tortillas and no chips, no rice and no beans. The program weathered unexpected visitors wanting to meet up for lunch, Cinco de Mayo parties, and Indian food sans rice and naan. I was able to pick out corn, croutons, noodles and potatoes from salads and soups with no problem.

Furthermore, it’s surprising to me just how easy it is to do here in the States if you ask. Taco places do lettuce wraps, Vietnamese restaurants will serve phở without noodles or with zucchini noodles. I love New Mexican chile rellenos, and one eatery in Albuquerque made them “naked” with no batter. Burrito places do burritos on salad bowls, burger joints do lettuce wrap “buns” or bowls. A nearby Tex-Mex chain even brings out chicharrones to dip into salsa if you don’t want chips.

The only exception I had to flawless adherence was alcohol; at several points I drank more than my initially allotted maximum of 2 drinks per day. Early on I kept telling myself to rectify it by reaffirming my implementation intention.

That never happened. 

Surface Changes

Though it didn’t make much of a difference on the scale (I only got my scale a month in, and lost about 10 pounds total in 2 months), I lost anywhere from 1 to 3 inches in diameter on various body parts. My arms especially seem to change quite a bit, appearing noticeably more toned.

I took a blood test after one month, and intend to take another one soon in order to see what (if any) internal changes occurred.

But as part of a Facebook Keto Group, and seeing a friend’s detailed progress – a guy who is following a similar food program – I was less than impressed by my end results, especially given the high level of behavioral adherence.

Troubleshooting

There are several potential reasons for my lack of progress. Due to an incredibly bad carb flu, travel, and pushing a work deadline, I started slacking in my exercise regimen. After years of daily exercise, I’ve also became convinced that it wasn’t as integral as I thought for fat loss. This seemed to unconsciously bias me towards said slacking.

At some point in a habit, when you’ve ground out a routine for years with no perceived progress, you begin to wonder if it’s worth it at all. It’s a wall I’ve hit with several habits, and one I think is solved by A) proper understanding of the mechanics of the process and B) better methods to level up intensity.

Ironically, another issue may have been because I was too strict. When I first seriously attempted a solid eating plan we had at least one cheat day where we would binge on anything. I would consistently drop weight after the high carb day. And this “refeed day” (or carb cycling) procedure seems to be a mainstay of bodybuilders on cutting cycles, allegedly to prevent the body from going into a mode in which it retains as much weight as possible. In the future I want to experiment with clean carb days, something that was totally outside my realm of possibility before, as “dirty refeeds” reinforce adherence to prevalent, motivation-based programs.

Dr. Jason Fung is a nephrologist whose popular books on diet may offer a few other alternatives. In the book, The Obesity Code, he outlines perhaps the most clear and data-backed argument for the way I’m eating (which leans towards paleo/primal). In it, he also states that diet is a far more important behavior to change compared to exercise.  Other than changing what you eat, he also suggests changing when.

For Fung, snacking is a no-no. Which is unfortunate because I tended to snack a lot, on either nuts or plantain chips.

Secondly, he advocates fasting. I do generally skip breakfast and opt for a very un-regimented, very haphazard 14-hour fast, but he advocates upping it to 24 hours, and in some instances 36 hours. A friend who is following his advice seems to be having excellent results with this, and it’s something I also intend to look into.

When Are You Done?

I brought this question up in a previous post entitled The End of Beer: A (Mostly) Complete Map of Quitting - and it’s still an important issue. When can I move on and toss my clicker aside? Lydia has already done this naturally. When I quit beer, it naturally occurred for me as well. But the more I think about it, the more I believe I can frame this as a habit of observing cravings AND seeing them go past without reacting.

When I took the SRHI for this, I got an 81. And it was only lower than a perfect 84 because of automaticity-related questions. Though there were many cases where I would click for an urge, and later forget that I clicked at all, statements like “I do it without thinking” don’t track well with this method, since mindfulness is a key component.

When I took the SRHI for “making healthy food choices” I got an 83. If this was any other habit, I would move on, so I’m pretty satisfied with concluding the behavioral side of this project now.

Exceptions

Another key, finishing point is knowing how to reintroduce exceptions. Despite its rigorous obsession with discipline, this blog really is about living life to the fullest. I want to experience new foods and partake in life - I just don’t believe I need to do it every day.

So Lydia and I came up with a potential protocol for reintroduction:

1. A cheat meal one day per month. We flip flopped between this and the more traditional once a week cheat meal, but realized that we really don’t have that strong of an urge to eat badly. The behavior is pretty well ingrained within us, and we tend to feel pretty bad after indulging.

2. Specific, unique cultural events are acceptable exceptions.

3. A caveat to #2 is that we’d try as best as we could to taste a small sample to fulfill curiosity and life experience rather than get an entire dish. This worked for Lydia on several press trips and seems the best of both worlds.

4. We have a potential project of exploring different foods in this city - once a week we want to try a restaurant from a different country. If we choose to, we’d be able to try something that’s not clean if it comes up and if it’s either impossible to eat clean or something truly special.
   

While I won’t be recording clicks, I’ll be taking notes during this reintroduction phase. I have no problem with the once a month cheat meal, but the once a week “maybe” gets behaviorally dicey real fast.

With adherence largely stable the next logical step, in my mind, is to attempt 90 days of no alcohol.

—

But this is still day 91 of eating, my first free day, where all the food in the world is once again, suddenly at my disposal. I’ve tried many programs – several bodybuilding.com 90-day transformation programs, Body for Life, Whole 30 – every diet I’ve tried across over 2 decades has resulted in a deep-seated need for release. It’s a sensation that my cravings, having so long been kept in check, can finally spring free.

It’s not like that today. I feel like indulging is more of an obligation, like I’m going through the motions. I’m actually eager to get back to eating well. The thought, oddly enough, makes me feel relieved.

At the end of the day I opened my spreadsheet out of habit, checking my clicker to record how many urges I had:

Zero.

Flawless Clean Eating: 30 Days into Tally Clicking Food

Mastering eating.

The concept never occurred to me until I ran across a thread discussing this gif:

John Stone describes how anger kicked off his transformation. It not only fueled his external change, but let him accomplish it in an almost inconceivably detailed manner. The discipline to record daily pics across so much time was levels beyond anything I had ever heard of. And looking closer, I saw that he had also recorded every meal he ate for about 6 years. 6 YEARS!!

I know that bodybuilders and athletes get strict when approaching a competition, but this…this was MASTERY, a goal so dim and far off it may as well not even exist for us mere mortals.

But somehow I’ve never felt closer to nailing eating than in the last 30 days. Here’s my data:

QUANTITATIVE ANALYSIS

After day 22 there was a dramatic drop in my low urge days, which is exactly when my carb flu passed. The average number of urges per day has been 10. This is very interesting considering it’s nowhere near as many as I’d have thought. And little facts like that are very useful going forward and in describing this process to others.

How does this stack up with other vice removal-style changes on the same time frame?

Cigarette urges almost entirely disappeared within a month (though the drop off in urges occurred earlier). Conversely, urges to drink beer came up again the day I started this current project. I can’t see a pattern in these three behaviors, but I am curious to see if there is one long-term.

QUALITATIVE ANALYSIS

The story beyond the numbers is more turbulent. Carb flu was horrendous. It lasted 2 weeks, from days 9 to 22. It felt like a deep, yawning pit of exhaustion. I had a complete inability to think clearly, accompanied by weird body temperature fluctuations, light sensitivity, and incredibly low willpower. I started needing midday naps.

I couldn’t work out, and I attempted doing lighter exercises like yoga. I wanted to start recording my weight, taking pictures like John Stone, and get a starting blood test - none of which happened because I was so fuzzy headed.

GREATER CONTROL

Despite all this, the control I exhibited was shocking, and it really showcases the benefits of what I’m calling a “craving model” of vice removal vs the traditional “action-oriented” model.

Every willpower breaking scenario came up during this time frame. I traveled to Bryan-College Station for a very emotional get together. I had a late night burger at 1 am, completely clean, with no bun and with yucca and plantain fries. I had crazy control in social situations, refusing beer and food when it was offered to me by friends. I went to my absolute willpower Kryptonite - Ninfa’s, a Mexican chain that I grew up eating. My food arrived late and I sat there, watching people eat, staring at a basket of chips and salsa without partaking as my friends sent food I couldn’t accept my way. And when my meal finally came, it came on a fried crunchy tortilla bowl.

I didn’t eat the bowl.

I watched a friend eat a delicious looking burger and fries in front of me at a bar. I ordered chicken soup that came with tons of noodles (despite not being in the description) and ate around it. At a few points I’ve ordered salads with croutons and just absentmindedly ate around them.

Lydia went on a press trip and also exhibited perfect control. Making correct food choices is, I believe, more difficult for her than me, yet at one point she slit a gyoza and only ate the insides. This occurred while having free food shoved at her from PR reps at all sides.

STRATEGIES

Amidst all the challenges, a few strategies emerged.

Steering people towards places with better food options definitely helped. For hard dates, looking up the menu to see if they’ve got good options is always wise. And when we independently had to go to a place with limited options, we both made sure to eat breakfast at some place clean beforehand. Moving my keys and phone to my other pocket was prudent so I could have easy access to my counter during problematic meals.

I also believe that not avoiding difficult situations is generally a good thing, because with food, control needs to be exhibited everywhere. Practicing this method requires wading through a lot of difficulty.

ACTION VS CRAVING MODELS

The traditional method of controlling food is summed up in “Eat X, do not eat Y.” It has horrible adherence stats. Nearly everyone fails.

The craving model is a shift over in emphasis from the actual act to the mental movements that begin the chain of events leading to bad eating.

This is clearly superior in terms of adherence. But it also unearths so many behavioral threads that aren’t always exposed. During that last 30 days, I felt inundated with ads on unhealthy eating, ads I never really noticed before. There were ads that would just pop up on Youtube, or Instagram, or Facebook, often ones you just couldn’t skip past. They’d come out of nowhere, and they’re crafted to hook you. It’s honestly a wonder there aren’t MORE obese people.

The tally clicking technique forces you to confront those cravings in your natural environment. Even though there are people who go monastic, it’s really difficult to isolate yourself so totally. And it seems to embed a probably future break in willpower if you revert to a normal atmosphere.

The craving model mechanically injects automatic self-monitoring at an incredibly high level. Lydia and I both experienced this even in sleep. We’d notice an urge in a dream, remember it, and next morning click it. My mind will at times just go alert, as though listening and asking “was that an urge or not?”

This shift from actions to monitoring urges occurred naturally, and it makes this project bizarrely effortless. I tend to become a bit irritated when I have more urges in a day, and I have to take a step back and remember there was never a moment where I thought I’d just give in to the urge itself.

UNCOVERING TRIGGERS

This shift unveiled a number of new connections and hidden triggers.

Popcorn came up a lot because I’m so used to thinking about it as a clean, highly enjoyable snack. There was a separation between general hunger versus an urge for something non clean. I was able to recognize antagonizers and stressors - like movie theaters and bar food. Layers of un-matting included appreciating the smell of really good food (picking up glorious smelling garlic naan and driving with it back to my parents house!) versus I having the urge to eat it. Or discussing and appreciating that food could taste or look good, without the craving to consume. This happens a lot during many cooking videos (which I enjoy watching). Again, this reflects a technique where behavior change doesn’t come from environmental change.

These are connections I simply had no idea of 13 years ago, when I first started seriously trying to control my diet. I’ve counted at least 8 iterations (not including sub-iterations) on the methods I’ve tested, all of which ended either in failure or limited success.

This “Mark VIII” build is the first time we’ve ever eaten flawlessly clean for an entire month, almost absentmindedly completing a Whole 30 Challenge (minus the booze).

In a recent conversation I advised a friend on how to start the program. An important part to understand is that this build isn’t just about the tally clicking. It rests upon many previous versions. I created a once-a-week habit of grocery shopping that I still do. I use the Novelty Effect to randomize my meals. Those both provide a steady base. I’ve also rested it on top of the usual implementation intention, mental contrasting, and recording. Those, problematically, didn’t help me while living my life in general, with interruptions like travel, or eating out. This does.

It is interesting to note that the main stumbling block is the small stuff - setting up a spreadsheet or carrying my tally counter around, or even just having easy access to it. Potential version 8.1 improvements would include taking pictures as though on a “flash” diet, or giving a mental “atta boy!” after a click. Or incorporating a general gamified attitude when actions are especially difficult, like picking out croutons from a salad. Doing it with a partner or group would also add a layer of Socializing for extra adherence. I’m also looking into knitting row counter rings to increase accessibility of the tallying mechanism.

But it’s still quite effortless. I can see myself easily keeping this up for 90 days and beyond. In the future, I do want to tackle all alcohol. It’s very interesting how much of a crutch and how habitual it is. I have an urge whenever I cook. It’s a social lubricant. It’s an easy go to. There are really odd networks of what consists of a satisfying night out, of just relaxing at the end of the day.

And that idea of needing something - or of holding on - is bothersome for me.

This is sort’ve the root of the craving vs action difference. For one, it’s as though people are only suffering through it by clenching - holding on to dear life until they can cheat, or until they’re done with the program. And that’s really how I felt before. I was forcing myself to do something that was doomed to fail - and it did.

—

In the I Ching, there’s a saying - “the beginnings hold the seed of all that is to follow”. I think that’s true. The hallmark of really well crafted self-help technique is that it just feels effortless. It’s a work of fine engineering that not only attacks the root of the problem, but works amidst the turbulence of every day life. It feels like it can be sustained forever.

That’s how I’ve felt in the last 30 days. We’ll see how the next 60 go!

The End of Beer: A (Mostly) Complete Map of Quitting

The last time I spent any significant time in Bryan-College Station, good beer meant Shiner. 30 packs of Keystone and kegs of Natty Light were the norm, fueling house parties into the early morning.

While attending university in an out-of-the-way Texas town, beer lubricated belonging.

I’m back celebrating the passing of a friend, and now, 15 years later, Bryan is filled with cool craft beer bars with mustachioed, suspender-clad hipsters, ready to pair your brew with a meal. But it’s a sake bar at the far end of downtown that my friends and I stumble into today.

I head to the bathroom - I’ve been drinking water almost all night - but when I come back my friend has ordered a round of sake bombs, and one’s waiting for me.

It’s been 7 months since I cut out beer. After 90 days, I had a few to test out what it would feel like and then promptly decided to continue.

My initial 90 day challenge has extended into a complete removal of the behavior, and a complete success for my tally clicking method for vice removal. It’s also a method, I might add, that DOES NOT rely on the popular “replacement theory” of breaking habits. Here’s a look at the data:

Along the way I’ve had Lydia push beer on me accidentally. I’ve been able to go to places normally, places like craft beer bars. I’ve had people unknowingly buy me beers or tell me to taste them. I still have stacks of IPA’s leftover from my recent birthday party. I’ve navigated it all with control I never thought possible.

LAYERS OF CHANGE

But other than the external change, it’s the gradual un-matting of subtle, psychological connections that fascinates me most. Before the project, trigger and response were quick. Urge to drink, beer in hand.

As the project continued I soon began to notice the intermediary steps. In Atomic Habits, James Clear describes this by interjecting the URGE to do a behavior as a key component in the more traditional Cue-Routine-Reward habit loop (outlined by Charles Duhigg)

But things got even more subtle. I had memories of an urge without actually having the urge in the present. I’d start to notice them in dreams. I was able to appreciate beer without having the cravings come up. In one case I was super curious about a beer Lydia was trying that had a unique ingredient. I asked her and the bartender detailed questions about it, but never had the urge to sip it.

The tally clicker method seems to mechanically cultivate a high level of self-monitoring.  Months in and it’s still ridiculously solid, despite not clicking for beer any more. But that begs a very important question - how do you know when you’re done?

WHEN IS QUITTING COMPLETE?

Academically, it turns out that’s a contentious question. In a study on smoking cessation by the Ontario Tobacco Survey, one year was the baseline for a successful quitting process. 

27 liver transplant centers stated that 6 months of abstinence from opiates was a requirement. But the survey states that many centers were all over the map, and the line of what constituted abstinence was inconsistent and determined subjectively.

Personally, I feel daily visual mapping gives far more concrete data. As soon as the urges fail to come up regularly, it’s not a habit any more. As I’ll bring up later, that can cause some danger zones. But now at roughly 2 weeks between urges (and with urges being so light), I think I’m doing well.

A final evaluation might also be in order. Looking at pics of beer, or going to a place that triggers all my weak points - socializing, stouts, travel, etc - like a black belt test. Or perhaps an inversion of the Self-Report Habit Index (SRHI) can assess whether an action is NOT a habit.

But my notes say that there was a marked change on day 117. I stopped formal, daily recording, and also stopped carrying my tally counter around. It’s almost like my mind just said - “it’s not a big deal anymore”.

THE FUTURE OF BEER

While metrics may herald the end of this project, it’s the very human contemplation of a future with no beer that also has to be addressed.

To quote Brett Kavanaugh, “I like beer!” Just thinking of not EVER having it again was incredibly daunting. I managed it by first treating it as a 90-day challenge. This extended to a larger experiment - namely “What would it be like to completely quit?” - with the understanding that I could always add it back in should I choose.

But my attitudes have drastically changed. After the urges subsided, I began to realize that without the cravings, there wasn’t really much that I got out of it. Few beers were truly unique anymore, even my beloved porters and stouts. I’ve developed other tools to help me socialize instead of relying on it as a crutch. It left me pretty bloated. And imbibing was more because it was easy and available than anything else. 

That doesn’t mean I won’t have it again.

I tend to lean towards Epicureanism in that this project is more about living life fully. The Epicureans believed that the way to do that was through temperance and simplifying things to attain a deeper sense of pleasure. When indulging constantly, indulgence becomes commonplace. After a year of not drinking beer, the beer I try next should be exceptional, and will probably be appreciated more.

Setting protocols for such exceptions are necessary.

While some may say that means I haven’t really quit, I’d disagree. If you don’t brush your teeth one day, it doesn’t mean you’re suddenly not a tooth brusher. In fact, the SRHI describes habits as a combination of identity, time, automaticity, and consistency - it’s not any one thing that makes or breaks a habit.

Particularly rare or exceptional beers can be deliberate outliers. Unique cultural experiences - or scenarios where refusing is insulting to hosts - would also constitute a valid exception. But in my life, it’s surprising just how rare those exceptions can be. And that clarity isn’t something you can readily see amidst the forest of cravings.

DANGER ZONES

Exceptions are not the only addendum in a post-vice world. Urges, even after I had officially declared myself beer free, still come up, but they tend to be spread out at 2 weeks between urges. I’m curious if this is a pattern and if they will continue to spread out as the months march on.

Now that I’m in the midst of a “strict eating” tally clicking project, I get a lot of little blips for for beer. On the chart I can see that this started the very day I began the eating project. It’s as though all craving is somehow connected. Pressures on one side of the system cause disturbances in another - which seems to correlate with my theory of habit harmonics. Dissonance in one habit due to stress (or just establishing a new behavior) tend to effect other attempts at self change before stabilizing across the system.

What’s dangerous about all this is the risk of relapsing. After all, I’m not clicking for beer now, so I’m theoretically more easily taken unawares and unprepared. Lydia, however, thinks this is a non-issue -because what has become habitual is the self-monitoring. And she’s right -  I know when the urge is happening, and it’s really easy to spot and be mindful about them as they surge and ebb, even between long bouts without them.

—

In downtown Bryan my friends and I clink tiny sake cups and yell “kampaii!” dropping them into glasses of pale beer to gulp down. The invisible skeins of obligation, ritual, and community all subtly waft by me as I sip the sake and absentmindedly hand the pint off to someone else. Not only did I not need it, but I believe going without it enhanced my night.

I’m done with beer - and I’m as surprised as anyone else.

photo cred: sake bomb by Juan Barahona, black belt by Camera Eye Photography, monks drinking by Evgeni Zotov