What if our success was contingent on something more than just ourselves?
While sitting curled up in a chair on my mom’s sunny deck, feet tucked, I finished a solid read, “The Power of Habit”, a Christmas gift from David who knew that more than Frye leather boots, it was soul food that I wanted to find beneath the Christmas tree.
The book sheds light on the power of habit, a subconscious cycle of cue, routine and reward which impacts every aspect of life for all of us. From our individual habits (how and when we like to drink our coffee, the time of day we choose to run) to those that infiltrate business structure (such as employee practices inherent to the culture of the company), to the foundational workings of our communities and nations (how we can rally around ideas and causes not necessarily directly impacting us, but rather fueled by unspoken social pressure to conform and be accepted). What could be overwhelmingly scientific and methodical, turns out to be a concise and understandable narrative, shared with a story-telling fashion, so that people like myself, who run from anything involving statistics or numbers, can’t stop turning its pages.
Yes, hands down it was a great read. Yet the biggest impact came from an unlikely place in the book. What appears to be a purposeful placement, settled immediately after the formal reading ends, and tucked just before the extensive outline crediting the enormous amount of research Charles conducted, is the Acknowledgment section.
With humility and sincerity, Charles Duhigg thanked not himself and his grand efforts, but rather all of the people and talent surrounding him, where he believes true credit lies for helping him reach his goal. He thanked individuals for their own humility, willingness to help guide, shape and mentor his process, and for taking time to teach him the skills needed in order to write the book, grateful to those who “taught me to write in languages I didn’t know existed.” Despite their own hectic lives and professions, these volunteers managed to either take initiative on their own to help, believing in Charles, or willingly accepted an invitation to become a cornerstone in the foundation of the development of the book. It was the recognition of the collaborative effort it took to accomplish his goal that really struck a chord with me, and really got me to think about my own ideas and goals.
If credit for an accomplishment does not necessarily fall on the shoulders of one individual, but rather on collective effort, what does that mean for those of us just starting out on a path seeking success?
We may come up with a brilliant plan, a clever idea or passion project, and we all-too-often turn inward to our own ability to execute on the process. Most of us reel in self-doubt and uncertainty as to how we are actually going to move forward and act on our dreams, our goals or inspiration. Then what happens? We fail to pull the trigger, and the idea fades away. What if right from the start, at the conception of the idea, we actually began to build a world of mentors around us. Not necessarily finding everything we need wrapped up within one individual, but rather through many individuals and resources. Often times, it’s the person sitting at the desk right next to us, an author or speaker, or maybe even someone we have yet to meet, that hold the key to the experience, guidance, skills and opportunity that we need to succeed.
The extraordinary effort it takes to execute and accomplish a goal does not have to come from just ourselves, but rather a collaborative effort from many resources. One of my professional goals was to begin exploring and sharing ideas for both personal and professional growth, including writing a blog, and here it is, at its inception. This is what you are reading now, my goal finally coming to fruition.
In the spirit of this piece, I would like to acknowledge and thank Charles Duhigg for providing myself and many others like me a book that inspires action, bringing me one step closer to my goal. Without his clever and enlightening book, I may have never taken the first step.