Must-read blog post on the neuroscience of habits, and what happens when you lose some

"We commonly live with a self reduced to its bare minimum; most of our faculties lie dormant, relying on habit; and habit knows how to manage without them."*
-Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time

(The above quote was e-mailed to Jeff Schwartz and me years ago by Annie Gottlieb; in seminars, I often include it when we discuss the role of habits in the resolution of conflict.)

I admire the writing of author Annie Gottlieb. She is the co-wrote with Jeffrey Schwartz the book Dear Patrick: Life is Tough - Here's Some Good Advice (a book with a message that is probably more needed today than when it was written). I e-met her through Jeff, and have been grateful for that introduction. To get a taste of her talent and compelling honesty about her life, read her blog Ambiance.

Her post of yesterday was particularly moving, and it gives a clear and concise overview of how habits operate in the brain. The grief that she is describing in that post results from the very recent death of her husband Jacques. I urge you to read the whole post, and then think about your habits, both those that serve you and those that rule you. Think too about how those people you love the most are "built into you."

From Annie's post Clumsy:

Getting around my apartment and neighborhood, through my errands and my day ... are all new.  I have no habits that aren’t bent around taking care of Jacques, and those habits are now

useless, severed, their loose ends trailing on the ground and tripping me, often into wells of pain.  Here’s where I used to . . . this is when I used to . . . The emotional part of it is that relationships, once they settle in, are about habit, and habits are about relationship.  There’s safety and familiarity and companionship and an almost sacramental ritual repetition in the routines you share with or perform for the other person.  You inhabit those habits, and all you need to be conscious of is how comfortable and dear they are.  When they’re gone, they are much of what you miss and the way you miss the other person, the way he or she is built into you. 

Then there’s the neurological part.

Click to read the rest.

I never met Annie's husband Jacques, but I am just finishing up Donbas: A True Story of an Escape Across Russia,a book by him in which he describes harrowing, frightening times in a Soviet work camp where he was held after being abducted, as a 16-year-old, from Romania. He eventually escapes, and you may follow the whole memorable story in his book. As I have been reading Donbas in the evenings, I sometimes think about the story during the day. The true adventure contains cruel monsters and kind strangers, the best and worst of man. Much to think about. Read the book! (Sample chapters here.) Wish I had met Jacques.

Comments

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Think too about how those people you love the most are "built into you."