Five Squats, a Cup of Coffee & the Beautiful Business of Beginning Small

The other day, I met a beautiful soul with the most extraordinary spark in her eye, in a butcher's shop of all places.

We got talking, as people do, and she shared a little of her story with me.

After giving birth to her daughter, the father of her child left. Suddenly, she found herself a very young single mother, carrying the responsibility of raising a brand new, precious baby with some real health issues - while struggling with her own health and weight.

And somewhere in the midst of all that, she lost 60 kilograms.

Sixty. Kilograms.

I find women remarkable.

 I've met so many women who have taken the most unwelcome ingredients life has handed them and, with whatever love, courage, stubbornness and limited resources they could gather, tried to make something good and valuable.

Like a home where a little girl can feel loved. A healthier body. A little more freedom.

And a future that looks so much different from the past.

Here was this lovely young woman, who had already accomplished something extraordinary, asking me a wonderfully ordinary question:

"How do I get started with working out?"

I couldn't help but smile.

I happen to have a particular fondness for helping people begin good things.

And because the answer is almost comically small.

This is where our adventure today begins. 

What if you could begin a life-changing habit in less time than it takes to make your coffee?

No, I’m not going to show you how to find some extraordinary reservoir of motivation.

Nor am I going to encourage you to declare war on your weaknesses.

Or reveal the secrets of waking up tomorrow morning as a completely different human being.

Nope. Non of that.

But by doing something.

Something so small that it almost feels ridiculous.

Like five squats in your kitchen.

That's it.

Five.

The Rather Wonderful Science of Tiny Habits

Many years ago, Jacque introduced me to a habit-building method that B.J. Fogg, a behavioural scientist at Stanford University, would later popularise through his work on Tiny Habits.

The idea is wonderfully simple.

Instead of beginning with an ambitious behaviour that requires considerable motivation, time, or effort, you begin with an action so small that it's easy to do, even when your motivation is low.

Then you attach it to something you're already doing.

And finally, you celebrate completing it.

Three little ingredients: 

1. Start Small

Choose the tiniest useful version of the behaviour you want to develop.

Five squats. One sentence. One minute of stretching.

2. Anchor It

Connect your new action to something that already happens reliably in your day.

Making coffee. Brushing your teeth. Putting on your shoes. 

3. Celebrate It

Allow yourself a little moment of genuine satisfaction.

A simple acknowledgement. A sincere smile. A cheerful "YES!" 

Or a private little victory dance, if you're that way inclined.

The purpose is to help your brain associate the new behaviour with a positive experience.

And that's it.

No complicated plan or tracking system.

No elaborate morning routine.

No requirement to transform your entire personality before breakfast.

Five Squats and your regular Cup of Coffee

Here's what this looked like in my own life.

Travel back in time to the mid 2000, and find me, a simple girl, rather fond of pizza and my couch - which is where I watched my shows.

Movement was never something I naturally sought out or particularly enjoyed.

Jacque introduced me to this method, and I started with five squats.

While the coffee brewed, I did my squats.

Five little movements that barely qualified as exercise - even for me. 

But that wasn't really the point.

I wasn't trying to build extraordinary fitness with five squats. I was trying to build a habit of moving.

To graduate from full-time couch potato to occasional participant in physical activity.

The kind who stood up for reasons unrelated to snacks.

There's an important difference.

Because the immediate goal wasn't to become strong, lean, athletic, or exceptionally fit.

It was simply to become someone who could reliably do a little bit of movement.

Even when I didn't particularly feel like it.

And that little beginning gave me something to build on.

Today, I lift weights, practise yoga and callisthenics, skip, run, rebound, and enjoy my absolute favourite form of movement:

Walking

Which makes me feel like a druid on a quest.

Shout out to Angie for my love of Terry Brooks & homeschooling my kid.

I didn't start that way.

I grew into it.

And while those five squats certainly weren't the only thing that brought me here, they were part of how I began.

Why Making Something Easier Can Make You More Capable

We often approach change by asking ourselves how we can become more disciplined.

How do I make myself do something I don't particularly want to do? (Bullying is not the answer FYI)

How can I overcome the resistance of the stubborn little creature who lives inside me?

How can I develop an appetite for something I know is good for me?

How can I make myself want what I don't currently want?

And sometimes, those are useful questions.

But what if the more useful question is:

How can I make the next good action easier to take?

Fogg's behaviour model proposes that behaviour occurs when motivation, ability, and a prompt come together.

The harder something is to do, the more motivation we need to get moving.

Make it easier, and suddenly we don't need quite so much negotiating with ourselves.

I can get going without the stubborn little creature even lifting her head.

Which is rather convenient, considering motivation behaves like a temperamental little diva who only performs when the conditions are just right.

She's been no help at all.

The Tiny Habits method works with this principle by reducing the difficulty of the action and connecting it to an existing routine.

Instead of needing to remember, negotiate, prepare, and summon enthusiasm, you have a simple cue.

After I do this, I'll do that.

And the celebration?

Fogg emphasises the role of positive emotion in helping new habits take root.

Which is a dangerous metaphor to introduce around someone with my enthusiasm for spiritual horticulture.

It's giving yourself permission to delight in the seeds you're planting, rather than reserving all your joy for the harvest.

Which happens to be one of my favourite definitions of success.

I get to recognise that something worthwhile has already happened when I choose to do something good.

Small Is Not the Same as Insignificant

Here's where I think we sometimes misunderstand the value of small actions.

And since my deeply inappropriate reverence for correcting misunderstandings simply won't allow me to leave this alone.

Five squats aren't going to produce remarkable muscular development my love.

One paragraph isn't going to finish your book.

And one serving of veggies prepared with care isn't going to transform your nutritional health.

But that's not what these actions are for.

The genuine purpose of a small action is to make the next action more likely.

To create familiarity.

To practise beginning.

To discover that something you once resisted can become part of your ordinary life.

And perhaps, with enough gentle tending, something you once resisted begins to nourish your days.

We don't always need to begin by doing more. Sometimes we need to begin by making it easier to do something good, repeatedly.

Of course, if your goal is to become physically stronger, five squats won't be enough forever.

You'll eventually need appropriate training, progressive overload, recovery, and nourishment.

But you don't need all of that to get consistent.

And that is the life-changing part.

You can grow into greater demands as your capacity develops.

But you don't need to build all of that into your very first step my love.

Try It With Your Next Cup of Coffee

Choose one thing you'd genuinely like to make part of your life.

Something precious, and wonderful, and worthwhile.

Something that would make your days a little better, a little healthier, a little more beautiful, a little more productive, or a little more enjoyable.

Now shrink that action until it's almost too adorable to take seriously.

Make it so small it wouldn't meet [insert the name of whoever taught you that nothing is ever quite good enough]'s minimum requirements for an ambition.

Just go ahead and give your ambition the tiniest possible pair of shoes.

Want to read more? Read one paragraph.

If you’re still reluctant then shrink it until even your most unwilling self finds it rather difficult to object.

Read once sentence. Take one bite. Do squat. 

Name one thing you're thankful for.

Attach that action to something you already do reliably.

Something that happens every day.

And when you've done it, for the love of all that is sacred, give yourself permission to be well pleased with yourself.

Take a moment to delight in the little good you've brought into being.

You just performed a miracle. You took something that existed only as a possibility and gave it a place in time and space.

You took an idea, wrestled it from the unseen and you made it reality.

There is a happiness that comes from accomplishing something extraordinary.

But that’s not the only kind my love.

There is another, quieter sort.

The simple satisfaction of living in accordance with what we value.

What we cherish.

The gentle warmth in your chest of doing what matters.

Of taking a little care to do something good.

And when you’ve invested in today.

Then do it again tomorrow.

And the next day.

And see what grows.

Perhaps, years from now, you'll discover that one of the loveliest, and most ordinary parts of your day began with something so small you almost didn't bother.

Five squats.

One cup of coffee.

And a willingness to begin.

In your corner,
Karla Visagie