Practice, Practice, Practice

It's the old, old joke.  Customer asks a New York cabbie, "How do you get to Carnegie Hall?"  The cabbie replies, "Practice, practice, practice!"  That's good advice for life, even if it's not all that helpful for getting around the Big Apple.

I continue to read and review The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business, by Charles Duhigg.  I find this book helpful and intriguing both as I think about the power of personal habits and the importance of organizational habits (what the experts would call "routines").  I have often thought about how some of my habits prior to Anne's death created ways for me to survive and even to flourish in the wake of that loss.

For example, I am a learner.  I love to study something right into the ground, to achieve mastery of some subject, and then sometimes to write a post or even a book about the topic.  That strength is expressed as a series of studious habits that give me pleasure and joy on a daily basis.  That strength allowed me to study my own bereavement and to come a a deeper understanding of what I was experiencing.  Those habits, I believe, made it possible for me to move forward more quickly than might otherwise have been possible.

So it seem to me that bereavement can be a crisis that identifies which habits will help us to survive and even flourish in the midst of our loss.  I think that more of a strengths-based approach to bereavement has been helpful to me in my loss and life.

On the other hand, the loss was a crisis that identified those areas where I needed to grow in order to survive and to flourish.  Managing anxiety was and continues to be an area where I need to work.  It is, in Duhigg's terms, an "inflection point"--a place where the pain is the greatest and where I am tempted to revert to unhelpful habits.  Duhigg notes that the way to deal with such challenges is to have a mental plan and to rehearse that plan before the pain recurs.

It took me a while to work that out.  When I feel anxious now, however, I go through a kind of a checklist.  Have I had enough to eat in the last few hours, or have I let my glucose level drop too far?  Have I gotten enough rest and exercise to make sure that I function well during the day?  Or have I neglected myself physically?  Have I jammed my schedule with far too many things and my brain with far too much caffeine as a way to compensate?  Or have I given myself enough space to do things well today?  Have I taken care of my emotions and my relationships and my prayers?  Or have I ignored my spirit and tried to simply tough it out?  Is there something on the calendar or in my head that reminds of some pain that I haven't acknowledged today?  Am I putting off something difficult that I simply need to do?

If I am feeling anxious, I have probably put myself in a tight spot in one of the ways described above.  These days I generally have a plan for how to deal with any of these cognitive, emotional or physical deficits.  I have rehearsed that plan in my head several times.  So these inflection points are not as challenging as they might otherwise be.  I have, in a sense, already lived through them and so they are not so surprising or taxing.

Duhigg describes this mental practice and personal follow through as creating willpower habit loops for ourselves.  He writes, "This is how willpower becomes a habit: by choosing a certain behavior ahead of time, and then following that routine when an inflection point arrives" (page 146).  I would "prescribe" this strategy for anyone dealing with the aftermath of loss and bereavement.  What plans can you make for how to deal with the struggles when they will inevitably come?  Practices those plans in your head.  Talk them through with someone you trust.  You will be more prepared to live through the emotional thunderstorms of grieving.

How might this apply to an organization such as a congregation?  I'm continuing to think about that and hope to put that into writing soon.