I know the right thing to do—so why am I not doing it?

About a month ago I had a moment of clarity at which time everything became Clear—stay tuned, that’s a pun.

For a long while, I’ve been doing really well mentally. I was extremely happy all throughout 2019. Good mood, lots of fun, and just enjoying life. Sooo much better than I was when I was clinically depressed and suicidal.

But I also had this nagging feeling that something was missing.

I found myself stressed about those times I wasn’t writing. (It’s hard to find the time.)

I wanted to go to the gym, but wasn’t. (It’s hard to find the time.)

I knew what to do to eat right—for my body, it’s a lot of protein and veggies—and I wasn’t. (I didn’t have time to figure out healthy meals, so I did catch as catch can.)

It was rare for me to get to work in the morning at a time that started with eight. (I justified this that I’m the boss, so I can do whatever I want.)

I didn’t seem to have as much money sticking around as I wanted, although we’d gotten out of a lot of debt.

Help!

A month ago was right around January 1, so it was the time for New Year’s resolutions.

My resolutions in the past—to the extent I made them—tended to be extremely doable. Like: “this year I’m not buying any more boring shoes.” (That was a particularly easy resolution to keep.) Or “this year I’m only buying matching bras and underwear.” (Ditto.)

I’ve always shied away from the “I’m gonna lose weight, eat right, save money, improve myself” resolutions—whether in the general or in the particular. Even if those things were always what I secretly wanted.

Enter James Clear’s book Atomic Habits. I can’t recommend this book highly enough. It has something like 29k reviews on Audible with an average of 4.8 stars.

There’s a reason for that, chaps.

It’s excellent. Very clear (ahem) and easy to follow and makes sense.

Clear talks about changing habits, but his take on it is different from any I’ve ever heard before. While many things he says in that book resonated with me, here are some of the biggies:

1. Habits are about your identity.

It’s about the person you become, not what you do. I am a writer because I’m a person who writes. And look, I’m actually writing all the time.

2. Optimize for the start, not the end. And make it ridiculously easy.

While I really want to be fit and healthy, my goal for the gym is so easy: I just need to check in. I could literally scan the app on my phone and turn around and I would check it off that I did it. Because that’s my goal.

What actually happens is, I’m there, so I might as well do the workout. (Oh, and I have a workout plan that really works for me—Michael Matthews’s Thinner Leaner Stronger—and I’m doing the Year One Challenge.) But as I walk through the gym to the locker room, I’m smiling and giddy because I’ve already won. I’ve done what I came there to do. Everything else is just gravy.

Similarly, my goal to write? Just open the laptop. If I’ve opened up my laptop, I count it as a win. Of course, once I’ve opened my laptop, it turns on, and I might as well log in and do something. But still, it feels great.

I’m keeping promises to myself.

I’ve also taken a hard look at my schedule and rearranged it based on my real life, not what others do. With my life on a farm, a half hour away from my work, and needing to get two kids ready and on the bus by a certain time, it really doesn’t work for me to go to the gym first thing in the morning, no matter how much of a paradigm I have that as. Plus, gathering all the stuff to get ready every day is a pain—either I have to have duplicates or I need to take the stuff out of my gym bag for the days I’m not getting ready there. Then put them back in. This is a lot of mental friction that keeps me from doing it, because it’s a lot of effort.

Enter: go to the gym during the day. (And bring dry shampoo.)

It works for me.

I bought James Clear’s notebook, and it’s silly how much I adore it. I don’t know why a particular notebook is so great, but it is. It’s quality, so it feels good, but not ridiculously expensive. It’s thoughtful and fun and has a lot of subtle details that make it extra special.

So these things are working for me.

I’ve been transferring money to an app (I use Stash and a Capital One savings account) every time I skip a Starbucks trip (or similar). It feels like I’m spending money all the time with all these $5 transfers, but in a month I’ve managed to stash away about $500. (!)

But the real win here is keeping promises to myself.

These changes—habits—feel sustainable. I’m finally allowing myself to become the kind of person I want to be. And I have evidence of it—data—with every day that I scan my app at the gym and every day that I open my laptop and tick it off my list.

I’d previously not wanted to track this stuff.

I prefer to be a “feeling person” and rely on how things feel rather than be data-driven. I’ve resisted a fit bit and if I never did another food diary again for the rest of my life, I’d be a happy girl (although I am doing a loose one of sorts to keep track—again, loosely—of my protein intake).

But seeing all these x’s add up? It makes me feel like I’m becoming the kind of person I wanted to be, and each one is a promise kept to myself. Those are priceless symbols to my psyche.

And I love the results.

My billable hours are up more than 25% from my monthly goal last year.

I’ve been to the gym more than my goal of 15 times this month.

I’m on my way to writing 50,000 words this month.

Every day I’ve gotten into work at a time that starts with eight—or earlier.

And I’ve got a smile on my face. None of this feels like drudgery. It’s fun. It’s a game.

I’m changing my identity.

Actually, I’ve stopped nagging myself about not becoming the person I want to become. Because now I have evidence that I am that woman.

Seriously surprising things have happened, too.

I’ve been named to a cool committee at work.

People have contacted me about new opportunities.

I’m loving what I’m writing. (Three books at once, plus regular blog posts.)

And it’s all felt effortless. After all, how hard is it to open my laptop? (It’s really hard if I think that I have to open it and write thousands of words and I need to find the time to squirrel away for hours by myself and avoid my family and I really should be cleaning the house and and and.)

(I also hired a housekeeper recently. She’s amazing. I love having my house cleaner than I could ever do it myself. I told this to her and she smiled and said, “Ahora me tienes a mi.” Now you have me So true. Since she cleans my mother-in-law’s house, she practically feels like part of the family anyway.)

Have I been doing anything “hard”? Sort of.

I am getting up an hour earlier. Since this is the time my husband gets up daily, it’s not really that hard. I’m just not sleeping in until 6 a.m. anymore.

Another spartan area of my life is in book quantity. I’d been feeling stressed about the hundreds of unread books on my kindle, so I’m deleting bookbub emails for now, because I’m trying to get my kindle down. No more free books for me—for now. So I’ve only bought I think 4 this month, which were on a carefully crafted list of ones I was waiting for and really wanted. Otherwise, I’m on a moratorium. Is it quirky and weird? Yes. But it feels so good.

Same with Amazon purchases. I got burned out from buying so much at Christmas. I needed a break from clicking to buy anything. It’s so easy, and I just needed to stop for a while.

So what has really changed? I know what I’m doing, and I love it. I love who I am becoming—the kind of person who writes and exercises and saves money and is on time and is so, so fulfilled and happy. I love how satisfied I feel when walking into work each day, knowing that I’ve already accomplished some things for the day. But it’s not doing the tasks that matters.

It’s becoming the kind of person I want to be.