The Hardest Part of Change is So Very Small

Photo credit: Jonathon Rieder pixabay.com

There’s a lot of energy and momentum in making change. When you begin something new you feel can feel energized and excited. You can feel the effect of whatever the new thing is. You can feel the impact of the new thing on your identity (I’m the kind of person who…..). And you can begin to imagine a future where the new thing is just part of your routine and not new.

But the shift from new to routine is a big one. This transition has to pass through that messy middle phase of learning. It has to pass through that middle phase of integration. It has to survive the all the mornings and afternoons where you believe that you can skip that day. The gauntlet of “Maybe this isn’t the change I want to make.” Or, “Was this a good idea to begin with?

The hardest parts of change are so very small. They are moments. They are quick thoughts. “I could just do this tomorrow.” “I don’t have time today.”

You start doing a new behavior—walking, or yoga, or mindfulness (or writing more frequently) and it goes along pretty well and then there’s a day or two where you have events that interfere or parts of your routine that are off and suddenly that new change, that new behavior is inconvenient. It’s not difficult, it’s not harder than the day before, it’s just not easy.

The fact that what interferes is small is what makes it hard. When we are confronted with big challenges – we often rise to the occasion. We know to muster our resources. We rally.

But when the challenges show up small. When they are simple everyday thoughts that are soothing and make sense in the moment we don’t interrupt, we don’t argue. We nod politely and go along.

The biggest catalyst to change is constancy. Staying in contact with the thing you are trying to do or learn to do. It’s about frequency rather than depth. In many ways the principle of beginning any new behavior or change is not really different than the way we need to create any relationship or friendship. You are building a relationship both with the new behavior AND the part of you that is doing the new behavior. You are spending time with it. You are encouraging it. You are getting to know it and the different things it wants and needs. And most of all you are showing up for it –even when its inconvenient—even on days when you may not want to. You are becoming a good and decent friend to it, and yourself.

If you think of the new change as a friend—then the issue isn’t whether or not you will spend time together, but how. And for how long. I have a dear friend I talk to almost every day. Some days it’s 5 minutes, some days it’s an hour. Some days it’s a text. But the important part for us is connecting at some point in our day. So the issue for change is how you can connect with it—spend time with it that day. It won’t always be the same. Maybe you are trying to make friends with walking—and it’s a really busy day of errands—can you take it along? Can you park farther away from each of your errands and get your walking in that way? Or can you walk around the block at the end of the day and use that walk for mindfulness and gratitude—and be content with a small contact with it, even if it doesn’t look like your imagined goal?

The problem with behavior change is that it is usually connected to a goal or an outcome—and there can be an all-or-nothing quality to it. There’s a ‘right way to do it.’ And on days that are inconvenient—or where we have other pressing priorities, we can fall into that do it/not do it mentality. But friendships and relationships are different. They aren’t all or nothing. Each moment of connection doesn’t have to be a peak experience. You can just hang out together. You can sit quietly together. On bad days, you can just be a comforting presence.

And that’s what we need to bring to these middle parts of change. A kind comforting presence. The ability to stay connected to the new behavior. To be in its presence. To bring it along or sit beside it—even on days where we feel a bit rushed. To be okay with it not being exactly what we hoped that day—but because it’s now a friend, confident that it will be there tomorrow. That together you can figure it out and stay the course.

© 2022 Gretchen L. Schmelzer, PhD