Throughout the course of any given year, I’ll acquire five to ten new notebooks bought purely to transform my life. Countless notebooks sitting on shelves and in cupboards that were meant to change everything. With nice cover, blank pages, bought in a fit of certainty that this was the year I’d finally slow down.
For a long time I thought the problem was that I hadn’t found the right system yet; the right morning routine, declutter method, or four-step plan. What actually changed things turned out to not be a system, and actually ended up being things so small and ordinary that a notebook for them would be complete overkill.
These are ten small habits that, between them, did more than any notebook ever managed to.
Make the coffee before you check your phone.
You know it already, but are you doing it? I’m not asking you to do this every morning for the rest of your life (though you might want to once you’ve given it a try), just try it tomorrow. Start by leaving your phone outside the bedroom so you don’t end up using it on autopilot when you wake up. Keep it with your coffee mugs or charging by the kettle, so it’s there when you’re ready, and not governing your morning before you’ve had a chance to decide for yourself.
Clear one surface, not the whole room.
A table. A worktop. One shelf by the door. For me it was the kitchen table, and clearing it most evenings did more for how the house felt than any larger declutter I never got round to starting. Clear it once and keep it clear.
Ask one question before you buy something you didn’t plan to.
Something as plain as ‘will I still want this in a month?’ or ‘can I wait a week to buy this?’. Often, that pause does most of the work.
Give the end of your workday a five minute ritual.
Have a couple of go-to stretches. Say a particular thing out loud, even to an empty room. It sounds small enough to be pointless, and for me it’s the difference between work ending and work just trailing off into the evening.
Mark the end of your evening with something specific.
Spend some time doing a crossword, reading a chapter of something, or just drinking some tea out of the same mug each time. It matters less what it is than that it’s the same thing, so your evening has an edge to it rather than just dissolving from work to screen to sleep.
Leave one block of the evening with nothing booked.
Have nothing planned. An afternoon is enough. Don’t think of it as a reward for being productive elsewhere, more as a stretch of time with no obligations. What ends up filling that time will often surprise you.
Put your phone in another room for one meal a day.
Ideally breakfast, if mornings allow for it. Sometimes I read while I’m eating, but it’s even better to just sit with your food and really taste it. Even better if you can share the meal with someone and enjoy genuine, uninterrupted conversation.
Read one thing on paper before the lights go off.
Or an e-reader if you prefer. Just not your phone propped against a pillow. For me this is still the one I drop first when the week gets difficult, but the difference it makes to my evening and the next day is so palpable once I get back into it.
Make an effort to notice one ordinary thing (and don’t photograph it).
The light on the stairs. The way a warm mug feels in cold hands. Nothing wrong with taking a photo, but noticing it first before reaching for anything changes the experience completely.
Let one thing stay undone.
On purpose. Pick something small and leave it, deliberately, as evidence that the day didn’t need to be finished to count. Leave a dirty cup by the sink, or the post still in a pile by the door. Even an email that can wait until tomorrow without consequence.
There are many more small things you can do to slow things down this week, but we’ll keep it at ten for now. You only need to pick one, and see what it’s like to do it for a week, rather than what it sounds like on a list.
