I saw a Facebook post go by celebrating the knock-on effect of dopamine. The syllogism went something like this: I treated myself to a fish tank I could not easily afford, but I just love that fish tank. Every time I see those little fishies swimming in their beautiful little world, I am happy. On the strength of that happy (a dopamine hit), I was motivated to tackle a bunch of other stuff I had been putting off, like organizing my kitchen shelves, because dopamine isn’t just the reward chemical, it’s the motivation chemical. Now I’m going to follow my joy. Pretty soon my house will be clean, I’ll have a savings account, and nothing but blue skies in every direction.
My instinctive reaction was, “Yeah, but you spent money you couldn’t comfortably spare, the fishies might have all died, and you were probably getting to the ‘my kitchen is driving me nuts’ point anyway. Besides, that dopamine stuff has lot to do with turning people into compulsive fish-tank hoarders, as everybody well knows.”
Do they really? I got to thinking… My parents’ rubrics were business before pleasure, and work hard and “get ahead,” whatever that means. What I saw as a kid though, was two devoted coffee drinkers who also smoked and tippled heavily right through the week (as did most of their peers), and a father who got a migraine most Sunday nights before starting out the week at a job he was outwardly devoted to. Mom’s housekeeping would be called compulsive by current standards. If business comes before pleasure, when does pleasure ever get a turn?
I’m also reminded of James Clear’s admonition that the most important part of building a new habit, is associating the habit with something pleasurable now. When you floss, if you stop to grin in the mirror at your pearly whites and say to yourself, “Good job! I’m proud of you!” you are more likely to keep up the flossing. If you bundle the daily walk with catching up with a friend, or admiring the botanical gardens, the walk is more likely to remain daily. Something about how you go about the new habit itself–not the result it produces–has to be attractive, or the behavior is hard to sustain.
And then I thought about how my day begins–with my now famous cup of jasmine green tea laced with manuka honey. I start the day with a treat, and with my treat in hand, I go to the computer and do some writer “work.” I use quotes, because I do love my job, and I would much rather do writer stuff than house work, yard work, marketing stuff (blech), or errands. As a matter of fact, when I started writing for pleasure, my migraines began to wane. Hmm.
In other words, I start my day with joy. THEN I deal with litter boxes, laundry, and life. I honestly don’t think I could do it the other way around very well now, though I ordered my life in the business before pleasure direction for decades. Now, I would… pout? Stall? I’m not sure what the right word would be, but I function better if I prime my emotional pump with some pleasure and indulgence.
How does motivation work for you? Lean into joy, or start with the hard stuff and celebrate after the race is run? Some of both? Depends on the context? Do tell!
PS: Lord Julian’s fifth mystery, A Gentleman in Search of a Wife, is now available for pre-order on all the web store and the retail sites, and even has its spiffy final cover!