The Power of Small Steps
One of the best habits that I've developed over the past few years is the tendency to tackle big jobs in small chunks, spanning long periods of time. It all started with money: change in fact.
Like many people, I never used to carry change. I'd start the day off with bills and at the end of the day any coins that I had accumulated during the day got dropped into a massive glass jar until one day I had accumulated well over $200 in coins. I figured, "that's a whole lot of money to have sitting in a jar". But the thought of rolling it all up and walking to the bank struck me as a bit tedious. Besides, then I'd just start accumulating coins again.
Then a thought struck me: I'll just spend it.
The next day, and every day after that, I grabbed a mix of various coins -- a couple bucks worth kept in an old film canister -- and at every opportunity I made an effort to get rid of as many coins as possible. My morning coffee cost $2.51: That's three quarters, four dimes, seven nickels and a penny. Whatever combination of available change would get rid of the most coins (or result in the fewest coins returned to me) is what I would do. (Interesting aside: perhaps the reason we all accumulate change is because we've all been taught to make change as though we were shopkeepers who wanted to avoid running out of coins, rather than consumers who want to avoid keeping them.)
Anyway, after a year or so the jar was empty (and discarded) and the amount of change in my little film canister hovered around $5 or so until one morning I noticed that I had exactly two dollars and fifty one cents with me as I stood in line at the coffee shop. And that was it. I traded it for a cup of coffee and walked out of the store penniless. It was a minor thing, but reaching any goal that you've worked on for over a year gives you a little rush.
Since then, I've used the same technique many times. I declared a moratorium on buying pens until all the dozens of pens we accumulated over time had been used up and discarded. Whenever I get behind in my magazine reading, I read one article per day after dropping Lisa off at daycare until I've caught up. My sister-in-law's husband gave me an enormous bag of Cayenne pepper a couple of years ago, and since then I've been putting Cayenne on just about everything I eat (it'll be another two or three years before that's all gone, along with my tastebuds!). But whenever I do finish one of these tasks by small increments, it feels like I've achieved something important. I suppose I have in that in so doing I've proven to myself that I can muster a little bit of discipline now and then.
Like many people, I never used to carry change. I'd start the day off with bills and at the end of the day any coins that I had accumulated during the day got dropped into a massive glass jar until one day I had accumulated well over $200 in coins. I figured, "that's a whole lot of money to have sitting in a jar". But the thought of rolling it all up and walking to the bank struck me as a bit tedious. Besides, then I'd just start accumulating coins again.
Then a thought struck me: I'll just spend it.
The next day, and every day after that, I grabbed a mix of various coins -- a couple bucks worth kept in an old film canister -- and at every opportunity I made an effort to get rid of as many coins as possible. My morning coffee cost $2.51: That's three quarters, four dimes, seven nickels and a penny. Whatever combination of available change would get rid of the most coins (or result in the fewest coins returned to me) is what I would do. (Interesting aside: perhaps the reason we all accumulate change is because we've all been taught to make change as though we were shopkeepers who wanted to avoid running out of coins, rather than consumers who want to avoid keeping them.)
Anyway, after a year or so the jar was empty (and discarded) and the amount of change in my little film canister hovered around $5 or so until one morning I noticed that I had exactly two dollars and fifty one cents with me as I stood in line at the coffee shop. And that was it. I traded it for a cup of coffee and walked out of the store penniless. It was a minor thing, but reaching any goal that you've worked on for over a year gives you a little rush.
Since then, I've used the same technique many times. I declared a moratorium on buying pens until all the dozens of pens we accumulated over time had been used up and discarded. Whenever I get behind in my magazine reading, I read one article per day after dropping Lisa off at daycare until I've caught up. My sister-in-law's husband gave me an enormous bag of Cayenne pepper a couple of years ago, and since then I've been putting Cayenne on just about everything I eat (it'll be another two or three years before that's all gone, along with my tastebuds!). But whenever I do finish one of these tasks by small increments, it feels like I've achieved something important. I suppose I have in that in so doing I've proven to myself that I can muster a little bit of discipline now and then.
posted by Brent at 3:26 PM
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