A theory of momentum
Nearly three months ago, one of my dearest friends gave birth to her second child. I bought him a beautiful gift and a card, wrapped it up… and then didn’t post it. For weeks. And weeks. And weeks.
First, it sat next to my front door (for weeks), and then in my car (for weeks), and then finally, yesterday, embarrassed, feeling like a terrible friend, and knowing that I was going to write about this today, I got my arse into gear, wrote the card, and put everything in my backpack ready to take to the Post Office, alongside another card for a different friend who has also recently given birth. I knew that without an intervention, both babies risk being a year old before they get their ‘Welcome to the world!’ cards!
This kind of thing happens a lot in my life, and I’m quite embarrassed to admit it. I have a bit of a problem with getting stuck like this. A bag of clothes ready to donate to a charity shop will sit in my car for months. I rarely put air in my tyres. Days turn into weeks and one day it will be months since I last went for a run or practiced yoga. I won’t make one ten-minute phone call, dragging the pain of leaving it on my ‘to do’ list out for months. Stuff like that. I wonder if you can relate.
Recently, I’ve been trying to change, and with each bit of action I’ve taken, I’ve been reflecting on this.
What has developed is something of a theory about action, and momentum, and getting unstuck, and in today’s post, I’d like to try to give it words. It goes something like this: life works best when energy is flowing. When it gets stuck, a stagnancy sets in that feels like the opposite of flow, like the opposite of momentum, like the opposite of moving forward.
It can show up in any area of our lives, this inert lethargy. We might be brilliant in certain ways – really diligent in our work, or really committed to showing up for our relationships, for example – and, well, not so great in others. We might not move our bodies much. We might shove post into a pile and not look at it for months. We might read emails but not reply to them, leaving people waiting. Simple errands might get left undone for months. (I have done each and every one of these, and more.)
* * *
Anyway, back to the theory. It has a few little operating principles running through it. I think operating principles are important and in fact, I’ll be writing about them sometime this month. But for today, fresh out of my brain for the first time ever, I’d like to present my thoughts on my little Theory of Momentum.
If life is feeling heavy, or if things don’t feel like they are moving forward, then taking teeny weeny steps to create a shift can work wonders. (Julia Cameron writes about this in the incredible book, The Artist’s Way. In one exercise, she gets you to write down ‘ten tiny changes’ – things that you’ve been meaning to do and putting off for ages, and then to go and do a couple of them. These are often two-to-five minute odd jobs: sewing a button back onto a coat; finally posting that letter; moving that item back to where it’s meant to live; repotting a plant that’s outgrown it’s home.)
The miracle is in the doing of the action(s). A bias for action is a wonderful thing in life. True, many, many people need to do a bit less and be a bit more, but for those of us prone to being a bit more on the sluggish side of life, a burst of activity can be truly invigorating.
Taking tiny steps moves things forwards. When things move forwards, you feel good about yourself. “I did that!” It fosters a sense of agency, which, for anyone from a traumatised or challenging background, can be a surprisingly powerful thing.
You always know exactly what wants to be done. It’s the thing that nags and tugs at your consciousness day after day – that phone call to a relative, or emptying your receipts from your wallet, or the washing up.
It really does take more effort not to do the thing than to do it – and that’s okay. Earlier I stood at my window looking out at the sea (how lucky am I?) and noticed that the window ledge needs a dust. Did I dust it? Nope. Will I dust it soon? Probably not (sorry, I know that’s a bit gross.) But one day soon, I will. And I’ll marvel at how little effort it took, and how great it felt. AND THAT’S OKAY. Self-compassion by the bucketload here.
For years, I have shared with coaching clients the idea of the one-degree shift: imagine a boat travelling for a thousand miles in one direction without changing course. Now, imagine a boat taking that same journey, but altering its course by just one degree. Over the course of the thousand miles, the boat will eventually end up in a totally different destination.
Drastic changes aren’t always needed. Sometimes all that life asks is for us to create a one-degree shift.
I think this is akin to Nudge Theory in behavioural economics. It’s the same principle: nudging yourself towards change, one tiny shift at a time. Now, by the time I press publish on this, I still won’t have posted the things (it’s nearly Post Office closing time sadly) – but I know in my bones that tomorrow is the day. What will you do to move your life forward today? What will you do tomorrow?
As always, thank you so much for reading. It’s just amazing knowing that these words are reaching people in different parts of the world.
(Image credit: Willian Justen de Vasconcellos via Unsplash.)