When I get home from work, I put my bag and the mail I’ve just collected on the dining table. It’s the first flat surface I encounter when I walk through the door in the evening.
Because of this, I don’t eat at the dining table. It’s too messy. The bag and the mail is all over it. So, after I cook dinner, I sit on the couch and eat it while falling headfirst into a TV rabbit-hole. One episode of something over dinner, then one after dinner. Before I know it, it’s bed time.
Day after day, this used to be my evening routine. But then, something changed, and it wasn’t me.
On a weekend, I made a new flat surface, a table, and put it even closer to the front door. Now, when I come home, I put my bag and mail down on this new table, I don’t even think about it, it’s just more convenient.
Because of this new table, dinners are eaten at the (tidy) dining table. Because dinners are at the dining table, I don’t turn the TV on. Because I don’t turn the TV on, I gravitate toward spending my evening writing, or reading, or drawing. Making stuff.
It turns out, I developed a habit. But I didn’t change me. I changed my environment, and then it changed me. It was far easier that way.