Some of the beliefs running our adult lives were formed long before we knew we were forming beliefs. There is something peculiar about being an adult. You can be forty years old, hold a job, raise children, run a business, pay taxes, and possess several passwords you can no longer remember — and still find yourself reacting to something with the emotional logic of a much younger version of yourself. Someone criticizes your work. You know it’s feedback, but your body hears rejection. Someone doesn’t return your call, and although your rational mind knows they’re probably in a matatu somewhere with terrible reception, something quieter says, People always leave. Your spouse asks what you need, and you say, “Nothing” — not because you need nothing, but because you got very good, a long time ago, at needing nothing. Some of our strangest adult behavior begins there, not only with what is happening now, but with what happened then. The Questions We Didn’t Know We Were Asking Children are r...
Why identity, not motivation, is the foundation for lasting transformation. Every January, gyms become unusually optimistic places. People arrive in new shoes, carrying new water bottles and wearing expressions that suggest they have entered into a legally binding agreement with fitness. The treadmills are full. The exercise classes are packed. Protein powder sales rise. Somewhere, someone is taking a photograph of a salad. For the first few weeks, motivation is everywhere. Then February arrives. The gym grows quieter. The water bottle spends more time in the car. The new running shoes return to their original role as expensive household decorations. The habit tracker, once filled with great enthusiasm, develops several blank spaces. Eventually, it is placed in a drawer with previous versions of ourselves. This extends far beyond fitness. We decide to save money. Read more. Wake up earlier. Become more patient. Spend less time on our phones. Build stronger relationships. Start th...