Making Change Stick: The Five Levels of Habit Change

June 24, 2020 By Scott "Q" Marcus

We develop patterns, which we call habits.

They’re like being bundled up in warm blankets with soft pillows on a cold morning; comforting, supportive, relaxing. Who would want to willingly change that? Continuing the metaphor, it can feel like moving to a sleeping bed on a hard floor, no air mattress, and the heater isn’t working.

Since we are in a period of paradigm-shifting, life-altering, stress-inducing, overwhelming change, I thought it might be helpful to understand why it’s so difficult to get new habits to stick.

Firstly, remind thyself that all change is spawned of fear, force, or pain. No one wakes up thinking, “I love my life! Let me see how I can change it.” We change because we see no alternative and because the “old system” wasn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe the times are different. Maybe we’re different. But something must adjust, and sadly it’s us. Being inspired to change by “negative” feelings also automatically puts us at a disadvantage as we’re not thinking clearly, to begin with.

To that end, know that there are actually five levels we must tweak, each deeper than the one prior if we’re going to make our sleeping bag become a cushy, fluffy bed.

The simplest, easiest adjustment is Environment; defined as that which “I see.”

Let’s say you’ve decided to be socially responsible and be concerned with the greater good by wearing a facemask. However, each time you leave the house, you forget your mask. An example of Environment change could be relocating your mask to a hook by the front door. Now, it will prompt you to wear it. Simple. Easy.

But it might not stay with you if you don’t change the next level: Behaviors, that which “I do.”

If I don’t modify those, my Environment reverts to unsupportive.

Continuing with our illustration, upon returning home, you remove your mask and put it in the washing machine. That makes sense, but that behavior means that when you leave, Environment is no longer provoking you to wear a mask. Consequently, a Behavior change must take place, such as obtaining a few masks and placing them all at the front door, plus remembering to hang cleaned masks there when you finish the laundry. This alleviates the difficulty of “forgetting” to wear one.

“But, I can’t keep remembering to put masks all around my house,” you might reply.

Welcome to level three: Capabilities, that which you “can” or “cannot” do.

Your perceived – and that’s the operative word – Capabilities determine which Behaviors will stick or fade. If your internal dialog is, “I don’t have time to do this,” or “I have too much else to do,” you’ll give up new Behaviors, putting you back to square one.

Capabilities are born of Beliefs, level four.

Beliefs, despite appearing as facts to us, are really not. They are feelings. They are not true for all but are to us. Continuing in our mask saga, if my Belief is that “masks are unnecessary and a pain in the behind” (um, poor choice of body parts for masks but you get my drift…), then you will consider it unimportant and pointless to amend your Capabilities to reinforce that you can indeed manage a couple of masks. Resultingly, new Behaviors fade, the Environment becomes unsupportive, old habits return. If my Belief changes to “I feel it’s important to wear a mask, no matter how awkward,” Capabilities shift, producing a positive domino effect.

With only a few hundred words, I can’t really delve deep into the concept of Beliefs, as there are so many extenuating conditions that affect them.

However, the Universal Truth they have in common is that they are the outgrowth of the deepest level, Identity, those words following “I am…”

We possess multiple Identities in which we adorn ourselves, depending on conditions. For example, my Identity of “Romantic” is certainly welcome and appropriate when it’s my wife, yet I would be out of line with my co-worker. Identities, like outfits, adjust to the settings in which we find ourselves. Rounding out the now overworn mask tale, if my Identity is “I am too busy to deal with this,” my Belief might be “this is ridiculous;” yet again collapse the dominos. Should I alter my Identity to “I am socially responsible and concerned about spreading the virus,” then Beliefs correct to “I feel it’s important to figure out a way to do this.” My Capabilities will now line up that empowerment. Behaviors adapt. Environment adjusts. New habit locks in.

Whether talking about pandemics, weight loss, productivity, or personal relationships, the pattern remains the same.

About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a professional speaker and founder of www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com, where he can be contacted for coaching, consulting, and presentations. During this social distancing period, he is conducting monthly on-line workshops on setting goals and getting past what holds you back. If you would like a free graphic of this topic or to know more about his workshops, go to www.ThisTimeIMeanit.com/handout

Life Lessons from a Sick/Healthy Cat

April 29, 2020 By Scott "Q" Marcus

Even though we live with three cats and a dog, my wife and I don’t refer not to ourselves as “pet owners,” opting rather for the moniker, “pet guardians.”

You are now thinking either:

“Meh, so what?” yet, continuing to read
“Oh, you’re one of those type of people,” possibly even falsely labeling me as “wacko animal rights activist.”
“Right on! I so agree with you. I wish more people felt that way.”
“This is nonsense,” deciding you have something better to do with your time and returning to your quarantined life.

I judge not your response.

What’s the difference between “pet owner” and “pet guardian”?

Well, um, honestly, probably not much beyond semantics. Countless millions of people share living quarters with animals while considering themselves good “pet owners.” Assuming they love, nurture, and take care of their furry, feathered, or reptilian family members; they’re correct.

Speaking on behalf of those of us who opt for the term “guardian,” the difference is that I don’t believe I “own” the animals. I mean, sure, legally, I’m responsible and all; but believe each soul exists to pursue its own path. As guardian to Tiger, Oreo, Hobbs, and Willie, my responsibility is to help clear their paths to allow them the fullest, happiest, healthiest four-legged existence possible. (Go ahead, cue the “woo-woo,” artsy-fartsy, new age, hippie music; I’m used to it.)

The manner in which this choice of terms manifests itself with us is that there are cat and dog toys strewn everywhere. A giant dog bed occupies our living room floor with countless lesser versions scattered elsewhere. For the feline contingent, there are perches, walkways, all manner of hanging things, and even a “catio” attached to our back door (so they can go outside but not run the risk of being hit by cars).

As stated, we are animal guardians.

Starting late last year, Tiger, our eldest, has been suffering from all manner of severe health conditions with symptoms pin-balling from lethargy to vomiting to constipation; dropping from a robust 12 pounds down to seven. In February, we were discussing end-of-life options, actually assuming a date. Whether “owner” or “guardian,” or neither, I’m sure you empathize with this gut-wrenching, emotional, devastating period.

Yet, in what I can only describe as a miracle, our 15-year-old Tiger rebounded.

As if treated by magic wand, he woke up and started eating, and eating, and eating, and eating. His fur regained its smooth texture; his eyes cleared; he even reverted to kitten-like behaviors. He filled out so much, we referred to him as “Buddha belly.” Give praise! Sing hallelujah! Life is good.

Last weekend, noticing some fur was missing, we returned to the vet.

[Read more…]

She Attended Over 100 Funerals – And Found Life

August 29, 2018 By Scott "Q" Marcus

I am delivering a eulogy of a close friend this week.

I know it’s an honor; albeit one I’d prefer not to have. Instead of standing in front of a room commemorating the accomplishments and celebrating his life, I’d rather be talking with him over lunch at the Marina. Alas, ‘tis not a choice. We take what’s given.

According to statistics, the average 40-year-old will have attended ten funerals by that age.

Of course, it increases where – if you’re so fortunate to celebrate your 90^th tour around the sun, you will attend no fewer than 50. I guess that makes me “lucky” in some fashion, since I can count those I’ve attended on one hand.

Although not backed by data that I could find, I assume most people attend memorials as a tribute to the one who passed, as a means to support the family, and/or as a ritual of closure. I highly doubt – with the exception of the two primary characters in the 1971 dark comedy, Harold and Maude – anyone attends because they enjoy it.

We do what we can to avoid them; very few of us have what it takes to continually be subjected to so many painful losses.

Until not too long ago, I would have said that none of us do.

That was prior to meeting a middle-aged foster mother from the South.

[Read more…]

Living A Life Entirely Surrounded by Love

May 23, 2018 By Scott "Q" Marcus

Most of us don’t want to think about dying.

That news won’t garner a banner headline anywhere.

I’d go so far as to say we desperately attempt to sidestep the notion at all costs, illustrated in part by a society that’s fixated on youth and beauty, while ignoring the loveliness and wisdom ushered in by aging. A disavowal of our mortality is not necessarily a “bad thing;” it could be argued that to function on our day-to-day activities, we require a healthy dose of denial about our end. After all, if we spent too much time thinking about it, we’d never get anything done, rationalizing our dithering with, “Why bother? It’s all futile anyway.”

Yet, there’s no avoiding the Grim Reaper.

At a “certain age,” we need to pull back the curtain and face him, planning for his inescapable arrival. For whether we do or do not, he visits us all.

Recently, I attended a presentation by Dr. Michael Fratkin, director and founder of Resolution Care. In full disclosure, I actually met the good doctor years back as he and I shared the platform at a TEDx event. Back then, prior to establishing Resolution Care, he referred to himself as “a midwife for people on the way out.” Else stated, Dr. Fratkin specializes in the field of palliative care, a specific medical regimen for people with serious illnesses. Although not the same as hospice treatment, it’s my understanding that there is more than a small amount of overlap.

I’ll circle back to our meeting in a moment.

Watching Dr. Fratkin last week, it’s clear that he is the type of medical practitioner in short supply, exuding a warmth and genuineness that puts one at ease immediately; a trait important in any vocation, absolutely essential when dealing with frightened and suffering people (whom he refused to call “patients”). I was captivated by his empathy — I’d go so far as to say, “spirituality” — an attribute one doesn’t often associate with medical doctors.

His talk, although dealing with a frightening subject, actually offered a sense of relief. After all, we’re all on the freeway but few of us know what the offramp looks like. Dr. Fratkin gave us a road map, relaying the experiences and sensations of innumerable souls he has counseled on this path.

When I first heard Dr. Fratkin speak at the TEDx event, one of my clearer memories is a story of a woman about to give birth. What made her narrative so unlike those of countless others is that she and her family knew that their baby — due to a problem in the womb — would barely survive its birth. Dr. Fratkin relayed the account of the family nonetheless decorating the delivery room with balloons, flowers, and a “Welcome” banner. The entire clan was in attendance, despite knowing its soon-to-be tragic outcome.

Raven entered the world, and — as with any newborn — was embraced with joy, hugs, celebration, and comfort. One hour later she passed.

As they say, “there was not a dry eye in the house;” one could hear sobs from several people. “How sad,” thought we, “How can one have the strength to celebrate an experience so saturated with pain, loss, and disappointment?”

Dr. Fratkin continued (paraphrased), “You’re not seeing the whole picture. Imagine this from Raven’s point-of-view. What would YOUR life be like if — from the moment you were born until the second you died — you were totally, completely, one hundred percent immersed in love? All you understood, for your entire time on this planet, was Love. You had no fear, no judgement, no regrets. You were born, existed wholly in Love, and then passed. Can you conceive what that would be like?”

I can’t – but I’d like to try.

Sadly, it’s too late to say our lives have been exclusively encircled in Love.

We’ve been taken advantage of, let down, disappointed, hurt, insulted, taunted, and frightened.

If one looks at it a certain way, one might say Raven was blessed.

There’s nothing we can do about what has transpired. In my stronger, more balanced, mentally-healthier moments, I might go so far as to say they have helped shape us well. Nope, can’t go backwards… Yet, we can affect our present and our future, and that of those we know and will yet meet.

There is no situation where mixing in more Love and caring will make it worse, no matter how little or short-lived.

About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a THINspirational speaker and author. Since losing 70 pounds over 23 years ago, he conducts speeches, workshops, and presentations. He also coaches individuals and consults with companies on how to implement and handle change. He can be reached at www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com or 707.442.6243.

Living in Constant Uncertainty

November 8, 2017 By Scott "Q" Marcus

My mother was an avid devotee of Deepak Chopra.

She read his books without end, made sure to record him whenever he was on TV, attended his lectures, and listened to his recordings when she took her morning walk.

You can imagine my surprise when she called me one New Year’s Day and blasted open the phone conversation with the bomb shell, “Don’t ever buy me anything else from Deepak Chopra!”

“Uh, hi Mom,” I stammered, “Happy New Year to you too. What happened? Did he kill or molest someone?”

“Oh goodness no! He’d never do anything like that. He’s a very nice man.”

One might understand my confusion trying to square that circle. “Okay, so why is he now persona non-grata?”

“Did you read what he said in the L.A. Times?”

“No mom. I live in Eureka.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right. Anyway, there’s a piece in the lifestyle section where the reporter asked several celebrities what they wish for their children in the coming year. I can’t believe what he said! I’m just so upset.”