I recently noticed I hadn’t been reading as much as I’d liked. So one evening, I set the alarm 20 minutes earlier than usual. The next morning, I woke up and I read. I really enjoyed this experience, so I did it again the next day. This has been happening for the past week and half or so.

Earlier in my life, I would have beaten myself up for letting my reading habits deteriorate. I then would put a daily recurring event in my calendar to read. I’d probably also search for someone else’s system for reading more, and I would have listened to a couple of interviews about “rules for reading.” I’d engage and resist thoughts that I, once again, didn’t have enough time. I’d force myself to wake up at least an hour earlier, experience shame on the days I wanted to sleep in, and try to use that to force myself to make a change.

That’s all good and fine… except this level of strictness really wasn’t necessary. 

I decided reading was important, and I made a small change to do it. I found an opening. If I don’t feel like it the evening before, or that morning, I might read a page and then meditate or journal instead. If I see another opening in the day—I might be at the gym, going for a walk, or washing the dishes—then I’ll give the audiobook a few minutes and decide if I want to keep going.

Either way, I didn’t push myself into this new practice. It feels more playful. It is emerging on its own, and I just need to keep showing up.