#151: What’s a “good” motive?

And does it really matter?

Good morning!

I want to thank everyone for being so kind and supportive after last week’s newsletter. When my therapist asked me how it felt to read all your emails, I immediately burst into tears, lol. It’s hard to express how grateful I feel for the time and energy you’ve sent my way. I’ve really been feeling it! So anyway between crying non-stop and New York turning into a fireplace, I can’t say this past week was my most creatively organized. I do have an idea I want to share today though, or maybe I’d call it a proposition—it concerns motivation, and how much we should care about the reasons we do things.

This is a fitting train of thought given what I’ve been doing this past month, which is basically non-stop physical therapy: twice-weekly appointments with my physical therapist (who I have a crush on, so that’s fine), twice-daily exercise routines, which I do religiously, and finally the fact that often my back pain gets so bad I can’t comfortably walk, which means I just sit around and think about my back all day. It’s a real commitment. And if you’ve ever been to physical therapy, you know that commitment factors in quite a lot—the therapy won’t really work without it. (See my failed physical therapy stint for arthritis in my right foot, 2019.) But it turns out that pain of this severity and consistency paired with pregnancy is the perfect motivational cocktail.

The problem with healing one’s back pain is it actually means strengthening one’s core (you hate to see it), so most of the exercises are boring, tiny, and repetitive movements, the kind I associate exclusively with my now-limber middle-aged parents, who seem to constantly be stretching on the floor to solve various ailments. On top of that particular tedium, you also should probably stop sitting comfortably (on squishy things, legs crossed, etc), which is of course hell, and something no one in their right mind would give up unless things have turned very bad very fast. 

I knew I’d reached that point when, last week, I actually banned myself from sitting on the couch. My big stupid beautiful couch, deep and comfortable, the one I spend about 25% of my waking hours on. This was of course the problem. You know a piece of furniture is not good for your core when getting off of it turns you into an upside-down rolly polly (or pillbug, depending on your region). Whenever my back got worse and my physical therapist asked me what I thought might be the cause, I avoided telling her how much I’d been sitting on my couch. I knew what she’d say, and I didn’t want to hear it!!

Anyway, my point is that almost nothing could have gotten me off my couch except the real possibility that I couldn’t live my life well (freely, energetically, and with my full attention) and that has me thinking about the importance of finding the right motivation. Or in my case, having it thrust upon you. I think we live in a fairly execution-oriented society—that is, motivation-agnostic. All that matters is that you get it done, no matter how or why. But especially on a personal level, I find that the reason I choose to do or not do something is incredibly important. It changes the way it feels to do it, first of all, and just as crucially, it impacts how likely I am to continue doing it over time.

I recently finished a fascinating parenting book, called Hunt, Gather, Parent, that explores kid motivation in detail, and I think a lot of it can apply to adults, too. The author, NPR science journalist Michaeleen Doucleff, studies parenting traditions in indigenous cultures, many of which are famous among researchers for producing helpful, kind, and generous kids, and she finds that praise is nearly absent from their child-rearing methods. This is obviously counter to American culture, where the question of whether to praise kids is never raised, only how to praise them. She writes: “Here in the West, we often employ two types of motivation: rewards (e.g. praise, gifts, stickers, allowances) and punishment (e.g. yelling, time-outs, groundings, threats). But in other cultures, moms and dads tap into another type of motivation: a child’s drive to fit in with their family and to work together as a team. To belong.” Throughout the book, she describes the myriad ways this motive impacts kids’ behavior, making them thoughtful and autonomous, and less reliant on constant parental validation.

This reminded me a little bit of the recent podcast episode I did with my friend Cat Cohen, a working comedian who gets a lot of feedback, in which we explored how it feels to make creative work and not receive any feedback. In the absence of positive or negative reviews, how do we feel about our work, or ourselves? What else might motivate us to continue if not to seek validation or prove the haters wrong? I’m not saying it’s somehow morally superior to make creative work in a vacuum for no one (all your sweet emails are counter-argument enough), only that it can be more useful, sustainable, and fulfilling to find deeper reasons to make work that don’t concern other people’s estimations of you.

Consider the diet industry. One of the reasons I think fad diets continue to be so popular and yet unsustainable is the way in which they manipulate our motivations. Usually, they promise to make us more conventionally beautiful, and quickly—two things that, in my opinion, undermine our self-respect. Hating yourself isn’t the kind of motivation that leads to long-term positive behavioral changes, at least in my experience. It may work for a while, but it burns out quickly, because it’s not inspiring or generative. It drains all your energy. I struggled with eating for years, and my relationship with food didn’t stabilize until I finally learned to connect eating to my wellbeing, and stopped seeing my body as a superficial project, with food as a punitive tool. This shift had nothing to do with changes in my discipline or habits, and everything to do with a change in my motivation.

A popular gentle parenting technique I’ve heard over the years is the idea of highlighting “natural consequences.” That is, trying to acquaint kids with the naturally occurring consequences of misbehavior rather than imposing artificial or disconnected ones. For instance, no longer getting to play a game is a natural consequence of breaking the game’s rules; being put in time-out or losing TV privileges is not. I think this, too, applies to adults. I definitely have found it useful in the context of food—that is, no longer thinking of foods as arbitrarily “good” or “bad,” and instead connecting with how they intuitively make me feel. I’ve been thinking about how this can apply to motivation: What is a “natural motivation” as opposed to an artificial one?

I think that dichotomy is particularly interesting in the context of career motivation. I’m often asked if I’m going to write a book, and while I understand the question—a book is seen as the writer’s crowning achievement—I’ve come to realize in answering it that the reason I’m not currently writing one is that I lack the right motivation. For one, I have yet to settle on an idea that compels me enough. For another, I don’t experience that ambient draw toward authorship that so many writers cite as a driving force. Obviously I’m drawn to writing generally, and being read, but the idea of publishing a “real” book isn’t particularly motivating to me on its own. I didn’t always feel that way (I remember turning 30 and thinking, okay, I missed that cut-off), but as I get further into my career, I’ve become less interested in achievement for achievement’s sake. I need a better reason—a more natural motivation, one that’s born of organic desire versus status anxiety.

Five examples of natural motivations versus superficial ones, off the top of my head: Cleaning your kitchen because you love your space versus because you fear you’re a slob. Dedicating yourself to your work because you care about what you’re doing versus because you want to get rich. Going on a walk because your body feels stiff versus because you’re afraid you’re being lazy. Being generous because you love someone versus because you want to be seen as a good person. All of these various reasons can motivate, but not all of them lead to a pleasant or sustainably pleasant life. To me it’s clear that the best motivations are natural ones. And counter to every LinkedIn hustler bro’s multi-pronged strategy for getting shit done, the best motives don’t actually require much of you. You basically just have to chill out and listen to your desire, and trust there's wisdom in it.

So that’s my proposition this week, for myself and whoever needs it: To more often consider why I’m doing something, particularly if it’s something I want to do consistently but struggle to commit to. Maybe the thing isn’t even worth doing—the reason ultimately being hollow or useless—or maybe it’s hard to do because I haven’t tapped into a naturally motivating reason to do it, and I need to figure out what that is, and then let it occur organically. Modern life has so thoroughly convinced us to achieve through brute force, but it’s not a sustainable way to live, nor is it enjoyable. The true sources of our motivation may be invisible to others, but privately, I think we feel their effects every day.

My favorite article I read last week was “Tim Robinson and the Golden Age of Cringe Comedy,” by Sam Anderson for the NYTimes. A perfect example of how to write a great profile even if the subject gives you absolutely nothing. Friday’s 15 things also included lots of great profiles, why you shouldn’t trust "indoor thoughts," a good IG follow, and more. The rec of the week was the perfect white t-shirt.

I also wanted to give you a heads up that I’m taking next Sunday and Tuesday off from Maybe Baby, as I’ll be hosting 10+ visiting family members in New York all week! So, assuming that doesn’t get called off due to hazardous air quality, I’ll see you in a couple weeks, or a bit sooner if you’re a paying sub.

Hope you have a nice Sunday!
Haley