In 2023, I thought a lot about choices

Published on 2 December 2023

I kept a bright yellow click counter near me most months this year. It looks like a knock-off Tamagotchi with a small LCD screen and a big silver button. When you press it, a count is added to the screen for a new tally. Every morning I would reset it to zero. Then I’d reach for it throughout the day. Every time I made a good decision, I’d click. Boom.

It all started from my friend E’s hypothesis. Good decisions are hard to make because the reward is deferred. You know eating fresh food is good in the long run, but it doesn’t feel as good as murdering a burger when you’re hungry. The trick, she decided, is to reward the decision immediately by acknowledging it. 

Of course there are a zillion habit-hacking apps out there to optimise within an inch of your life. But I was drawn to this super simple analog idea. 

E gave out click counters to willing guinea pigs. We congregated around pints at our local on a cold Spring night and agreed the following rules:

• Only you know what a ‘good’ choice means 

• What’s worth clicking for is different for everyone

• The total number doesn’t matter – a single click could be significant

• The point is to continuously reward those choices in the moment

This is what got me. What makes for a ‘good’ choice and how only I can know that. 

Ok let’s rewind a second.

Since the “unprecedented times”, I’ve created a super flexible life for myself. Part-time contracts, frequent travel, opportunistic escapes. Up until then I mostly outsourced my choices. To simplify massively: I worked when I got paid, worked out when I paid someone and fit holidays and activities in around that.

I had the privilege of choosing a life that prioritised my wellbeing… except I didn’t really know what that was. I knew what my days should look like and assumed this was what I wanted. But there was always this unsatisfying gap. 

By January 2023 I felt dizzy looking at the year ahead. I lay on the floor a lot. The world was burning and here I was trying to set purposeful goals. Then February rolled around and I realised I was not going to get it together. Two things became clear:

1) Purpose wouldn’t help me. I needed to get on with it. Drop the meanings and assumptions I was making and do the best for that given moment, be it a call or cleaning up. 

2) I do know what feels good for me. The deep pleasure of working out, for example. Instead of outsourcing to a trainer I’m going to let that thing, whatever it is, choose what it wants.

Enter the click counter. 

I clicked whether I followed a 10-minute yoga video or rolled around on the floor. Whatever moving felt like that day. 

I clicked when I didn’t order fast food. 

I clicked when I sat down quietly in the morning, whether for 2 minutes or 20. 

I clicked when I went to an annoying meeting with any measure of curiosity and actually learned something. 

I still ate rubbish and had days I didn’t do anything. I just didn’t click. 

Or maybe I clicked if it felt like not doing anything was actually a good choice.

Here are some of mine.

• Spoiler alert: I didn’t get significantly stronger or fitter or leaner. I injured myself a few times. But I learned a lot about my own body mechanics, that I could stay in movement, enjoy it and start again when I stopped for a while.

• I saw that my actual desire was not a ‘should’ at all. It was a tiny, underdeveloped, baby muscle that I was strengthening through validation. 

• I realised how many choices I made each day. When I started to ask what would make it a click-worthy choice, I started to feel that little muscle more easily. 

• I noticed choosing to act never came from the part that always knows better and criticises. Shaming myself always led to inaction and killed the urge.

Basically I use a click counter to tap into some profoundly wise part of myself by treating it like an absolute toddler. Gotta work with the human condition.

What surprised me was how little I had trusted myself. That when I was outsourcing motivation, I was really outsourcing trust. I was acting like other people ultimately knew what was good for me and that I could not be trusted to choose that for myself. That if I would make poor choices when left to my own devices. 

It’s true that they’re objectively far from ideal. But they’re mine. I feel a kind of joyful sovereignty when I inhabit each little step. What matters is the choosing rather than the choice, to move from your centre and keep moving.