Rebuilding The Clock (Some New Years Advice)
A good friend of mine had just completed his life-uprooting, 5-day drive on his move from west coast to east coast. He was getting settled into his (temporary) new digs when I asked how it was going.
"I'm just trying to rebuild the clock."
What a fantastic description of the middle earth between two lives. The old clock is the hard thing to let go of. You had your routines, your life, your knowns (even if they drove you nuts).
The new clock, in the new place isn't created yet.
We have to rediscover habits in the new place. We have to figure out routes, cadences, and community. That's why we hate change so much.
Obviously, Jan 1 signals a new start and it's a time when a lot of people try to rebuild a version of their clock. Maybe it's not as life altering as a cross country move, but there are habits that need to be dislodged, and new ones in their place (writing, exercising, eating this, not eating that, etc.).
The problem is--let's keep this traveling metaphor going--instead of moving one "time zone" at a time, most swashbuckling new years resolutionists try to fly to Thailand direct; no snacks, no water, with a half a tank of gas, in a plane that couldn't make the journey on a full one.
Your body and mind can't change overnight.
Ugh, Bassam! I don't want this to take time. I want to be the "new me" now!
It's the "new" that's the problem.
The middle space between two identities sucks because everything is new. New is exhausting because new is a bunch of different verbs you're embarking on. There's no familiarity. Doubt reigns. Confidence hides. And most people can't get through the middle because they haven't convinced themselves they can.
In this sure-to-be "new you" that's about to bust out of your cocoon, never forget that it's baby steps. Before you can be a gym rat, you have to be the kind of person who could be a gym rat. That means, before you can work out five days a week, you have to do one day a week. Before you can write a book, you have to be the kind of person who could write a book. That person writes an hour a day for two weeks.
No one wants to start a podcast. Everyone wants to have a podcast.
But you have to build the clock, one piece at a time to get there.
Shrink the change, verb by verb.
The new you is on the other side of small bouts of repeated intentionality when no one else is looking.
Happy new year! (One day at a time)
Want some more insight, here are two posts I've written about New Years Resolutions:
