How To Develop A Motivational Habit

We are all creatures of habit. When we do one thing consistently and for a long enough period of time, it becomes second nature. That tendency is often embodied in negative ways.

Things like smoking, overeating and procrastination become habits. And one they do, they become very difficult to break.

The good news is that the “habit factor” cuts both ways. If you develop a good habit, it will remain intact and will be just as resistant to change.

We are all constantly on the lookout for an additional motivational spark--something that will keep us going day after day.

By making daily motivation exercises a consistent ritual, we can develop a habit that will help us to reach even our loftiest aspirations.

Discover motivation exercises that resonate with you and make them part of your daily schedule. Commit to establishing a motivational habit. Before you know it, you will never be searching for inspiration; you will be making your own every single day!

Did That REALLY Motivate You?

Sometimes, we can watch a program, listen to a speaker, or read a book that fills us with a sense of motivation and that makes us feel like we can do anything to which we set our minds.

In some cases, that sense of limitless possibility remains intact and we refer back to that inspirational material again and again as we work toward our goals. In other cases, the feeling of elation and excitement passes within a very short period of time.

Motivation exercises are a lot like food. Some foods really do nourish the body and provide us with the essential nutrients we need to survive and thrive. Some foods, on the other hand, are junk. They taste sweet, but don’t do much good for the body and may actually harm it.

Some motivation exercises are nourishing psychological and emotional meals, while others are nothing more than the motivational equivalent of cotton candy.

As you experiment with different methods of motivation, make the effort to separate the truly good stuff from the junk. Look for exercises that connect with you on a deeper level and that tend to linger with you long after the initial excitement subsides.

Don’t confuse dinner with a candy bar or motivation with manipulation.

Making The Time For Motivation

You were motivated when you came up with a plan to change your life, but you might have found your ability to keep on moving toward your goals waning now that a little time has passed.

You either need to recapture some of the motivation that led you to take action in the first place or to find some new inspiration elsewhere.

This is why motivation exercises can be so valuable. They allow you to find a little extra boost that can help keep you working on your program. There are as many motivation exercises as there are people. Some find inspiration in an upbeat film. Others are motivated by introspection and a desire to bring their actions into alignment with their beliefs. Physical exercise has an impact on others.

The important part about motivation exercises isn’t so much which one you choose, but that you make the choice to do something. A consistent, long-term commitment to maintaining high motivation levels is often critical to self-improvement.

Make sure you are setting aside a dedicated chunk of time every day to find new motivation and to re-connect with the ideas that originally inspired you to make a positive change

The Crippled Hunter

A great hunter named Hawk woke in the medicine man's hut. His arm ached fiercely, and when he reached over to touch it, he found the bottom half removed. He lay there, stunned.

"I'm sorry my son," said the medicine man from the smoky interior of the hut. "You are a cunning hunter, but you were hurt gravely saving Little Wing's life. You are a hero to all our people, but the spirits said I must take your arm to save your life."

Beneath the wraps on Hawk's arm, the injury ached. He let his remaining hand fall limply to the blanket.

"What can I do now?" he asked numbly.

"You will not be able to use a bow any more," the medicine man said, "but your years providing food for the tribe will not be forgotten. You will find a way to contribute."

"You mean I can join the old women and the cripples who tend to the hunter's catches," Hawk growled. He could barely restrain the tears that pricked his eyes. A hunter did not cry.

But if he was a hunter no longer, did it matter?

Hawk spent a lot of time alone while he was recovering. He went on many long walks. He tried to use his bow, but he could see no way to shoot an arrow with his arm mangled.

People told him to relax, to do the work he could do to contribute to the tribe, such as preparing meat and tanning hides. But even this work was difficult for him with only one hand. Besides, he did not want to tan hides for the rest of his life.

Something else bothered him. Winter was coming and game had been scarce all year. The tribe had not put in as much meat for the hard months as it should have. They needed every hunter out there catching food. They needed him.

"Not like this," he muttered and glared at his useless stump.

One day Hawk abandoned the menial work--others did it so much more efficiently than him anyway--and walked away from camp. He followed a canyon rim. Far below a tiny stream meandered through, but anyone who fell would be splattered on the rocks.

For a moment he considered falling. What was his life if he could not hunt?

But what a cowardly end. Surely the spirits would be disappointed.

Hawk sighed and looked over his shoulder. Fields of tall yellow grass stretched before him. Then he noticed dark shapes in the distance. Buffalo. A small herd, more than enough to provide meat for his people through the winter.

A hunting party was out, but they had gone the other direction. They might miss these buffalo altogether.

Hawk looked from them to the cliff and back. An idea formed.

He waited until the buffalo came as close to the canyon as they would, then tested the wind. Perfect.

He set a fire in the tall grasses behind the buffalo. The flames soon grew and smoke filled the air. This terrified the buffalo, and they stampeded.

Hooves struck the earth so hard it was like being in an earthquake. Hawk had set the fire in just the right spot, and many of the huge creatures ran blindly at the canyon cliff. Their instincts told them to run from fire, and they went right over the edge.

After the fire had died down, Hawk returned to the tribe for help skinning and preparing all the meat on the canyon floor. Now his people would have enough food for the winter. The tribesmen and women looked at him with awe. They had never looked at him like that before, even when he had been a good hunter with two strong arms.

"How did bring down so many when you're a cripple?" one blunt boy asked.

"I learned that you don't have to be stronger and faster than the buffalo, just smarter than it."

Men And Fish Ponds

A man stalked into a fish store in a huff. He located the owner out back, attending a tranquil water garden. In a large pond, fish swam happily in clear clean water.

The man barely noticed the peaceful setting. He thrust a bag full of water out for the owner to see. A small, runty fish twitched its tail inside.

"I bought this last summer," the man said.

"Is there a problem?" the owner asked.

"It's tiny! You sold me a bunch of defective fish. I wanted ones like those." He pointed to the long, sleek fish gliding through the pond.

"They are the same breed, sir," the store owner said.

"They can't be. Yours are magnificent and mine are stunted. You keep all the best ones for yourself and give the customers the rejects. Admit it!"

The owner clasped his hands behind his back and did not respond to the accusation. Instead he merely said, "Please, sir, tell me about the pond where your fish live."

"Well, it's about this big." The man stretched his arms, indicating a size much smaller than the store pond.

"Yes, how many fish are in it?"

"Eight."

"That is very many fish for such a small pond, sir. Are they fed well?"

"Of course," the man said. "Well, actually my wife handles that. Sometimes she forgets."

"And the water?" the shop owner asked. "Is it clear and fresh?"

"It's a little murky," the man said. "We're busy, and we don't have that much time for pond care."

"I think I see your problem, sir. This kind of fish is just like a person. To reach its full potential, it must be in an environment that nurtures growth."

The Great Turtle Race

Two turtles entered into a race. At the end lay a golden shell, a prize any turtle would enjoy.

As soon as the race official shouted, "Go!" the first turtle, Milfred, started plodding toward the finish line.

The second turtle, Manny, shook his head in disgust. Everybody knew turtles were slow. It would take her all day to reach the finish line like that. It would be hard work too.

Many took out a map he had snuck into the race. He looked for shortcuts, spotted a couple of likely routes, and chose the best looking one.

That route took him up a hill. He huffed and puffed, telling himself it would be easier in the end. But he eventually came to a spot where a rock avalanche had buried the path.

Manny reluctantly turned back and tried another shortcut. This time, he came to a ten-foot high cliff. A human or a monkey might have been able to climb it, but a turtle certainly couldn't.

Grumbling, Manny retraced his path and headed for the third shortcut. It seemed a likely route, and he would surely shave hours off his race time if it continued to the end. But he came to a spot where a river had changed course and now ran right over the trail. The water was too swift and wide for a turtle to cross.

Manny had to turn back again.

By now, the sun hung low in the western sky. Then things got worse.

The official returned with the news. Slow, plodding Milfred had finished the race and won the golden shell.

Manny was still at the start line. Not only that, but in recounting all his steps, he realized he had walked farther than Milfred.

Coconut Frustration

After a storm washed her overboard, Samantha found herself stranded on a desert island (perhaps that deep-discount cruise vacation hadn't been the best investment).

Since Samantha did not know how to fish, the only food was in the trees.

Beautiful, ripe coconuts hung from the branches high above her. She stared longingly at them, but none littered the beaches. They all hung high out of reach.

She attempted to climb the coconut tree trunks, but they had no branches to grab onto, and her arms were not strong enough to scale them unaided. Though she tried several times, she could not climb even close to the height of the coconuts.

By the third day, she was weak with hunger. The large ripe coconuts merely taunted her from the treetops.

She dropped to her knees and prayed.

"Lord, I'm so hungry. Please drop a few coconuts. I'll be eternally grateful."

That night a great storm blew in from the sea. Waves surged up the beaches, and rain pelted down from the black sky. Samantha could only huddle beneath the trees and wait for the storm to pass.

When dawn and the sun returned, she ventured out. She expected a beach full of coconuts that had been blown down, but only driftwood met her gaze. If any coconuts had fallen, the waves had washed them into the ocean.

She screamed and grabbed a chunk of driftwood. She hurled it at the nearest bunch of coconuts. The stick missed its target, thudded against the trunk, and fell to the ground.

From that futile act came an idea.

Samantha gathered several pieces of driftwood, selecting those that had some heft, but were not too bulky to throw. She hurled the first into the air again, this time putting more effort into aiming.

The projectile flew wide, but not by far. On the tenth try, a chunk of driftwood struck a coconut. It fell to the ground at her feet.

Samantha squealed and jumped in the air. She pumped her fist in victory and grabbed her prize. She had no knife, but she soon found a jagged rock, which she used to bash open the coconut.

The milk slid down her throat, the smoothest sweetest beverage she had ever drunk. The meat tasted better than anything she ever remembered eating.

She used the driftwood to snag several more coconuts from the trees. When she was full, she lay down and gazed contentedly at the sky.

"You sure make things hard, God," she observed, hardly expecting an answer.

But a voice drifted to her on a breeze: "That which is given is cherished for a short while, but that which is earned is valued for a lifetime."

The River of Fame And Fortune

A young man decided to leave town instead of taking the apprenticeship his parents has lined up for him. He wanted to see fame and fortune, and a traveler told him of a river that led straight to it.

Of course, the river was plagued by many obstacles: rapids, bandits, and bears to name a few. But if one followed it to its end, one arrived at fame and fortune.

The young man pursued odd jobs around town until he could afford a small boat. He waved goodbye to his parents and friends, and he set sail down the river to fame and fortune.

The traveler had not lied. The waterway sported many obstacles, everything from jagged boulders protruding from the shallows to robbers who would shoot arrows from the banks.

Still, the young man did well until a great storm came upon him. He did not pull his boat into shore in time, and the gales hurled him against a rocky cliff. The impact shattered his craft and left him alone and helpless in the rough waters.

Through some luck, he reached an island in the center of the river. When the storm passed over, he found himself so far from shore on either side, that he dared not try to swim across. Fortunately, the island offered plentiful berry bushes, and the man soon fashioned a fishing pole, so he could catch his meals.

A couple days later, two merchants on a raft happened by.

"We're heading down the river toward fame and fortune," they said. "Do you need a lift?"

The man eyed the handmade raft, which was barely more than a few logs lashed together. "Thanks, but I think I'll wait for the next boat."

A couple weeks passed before the next craft came by, a little dingy with a single oarsman.

"Do you need a way to get to fame and fortune?" the oarsman asked.

"Thanks, but I think I'll wait for a bigger boat. These waters are rough, you know."

Other vessels drifted past, and many of the owners asked if the man wanted a ride. By this time, the man had created a simple but decent shelter on the island, and he had saved some fish and berries. It was a hard life, but the idea of risking the storm again scared him. He decided to wait until a large armored vessel that could not possibly be damaged by the river's obstacles sailed past. Then he would ask for passage.

Of course, such a craft never came. However, many of those who had passed survived the perils of the river and made it to fame and fortune. The man grew old and died on the meager island.

Lessons of The Bonsai Tree

Peter circled the table and frowned at the overgrown shrub sitting in a pot on the table. "What is it?"

"A bonsai tree," Yukio said.

"Uhm, I've seen the Karate Kid. That's no bonsai tree."

"It is so." Yukio scowled. "It just hasn't been trimmed."

"Oh."

"My grandfather left it to me when he died, but I want to learn how to shape it before I do any cutting."

Yukio pulled a stack of books off the shelf. Bonsai for Beginners. How to Shape a Bonsai Tree in 10 Easy Steps. Inner Peace Through Bonsai.

"Okay," Peter said. "I get that I guess. How long have you had it?"

"Three years."

"Three years? And you haven't snipped a branch yet?"

"I don't want to screw it up," Yukio said. "This is a rare species and very valuable."

"So, you're just going to let it sit there and get bushier and bushier?" Peter asked. "Have you read the books yet?"

"Yes."

In fact, the spines were creased, and each one was full of underlined passages and dog-eared pages. Yukio returned them to the shelf before his visitor could discover the truth of just how often they had been read.

"Well," Peter said. "You might want to start clipping those branches soon. You're about one winter away from being able to hang ornaments and put presents under this thing."

"I don't have any experience. It's hard to teach yourself from a book." Yukio touched a branch gently. "I don't want to ruin it."

"I'm no Einstein, but I'm pretty sure you actually have to do something to get in experience. Why don't you clip a branch? What's the worst that could happen?"

"I could kill it," Yukio said glumly.

Peter raised his eye brows. "How likely is that?"

"Not very. I guess the worst that would happen is it wouldn't come out anything like what's in my head. I have this really pretty picture in my mind... but I don't think I can do that."

"So, what? It'd grow back, right? And you could try again."

"Yeah, in a couple years."

"There you go." Peter shrugged and left the room.

Yukio stood in silence and gazed at the tree for a while. He looked at the shelf and all the books he had read, and he looked back to the tree. Yes, perhaps it was time to do something.

He found a pair of cutters and took the first snip.

The Battle Between The Rat And The Lion

Long ago in a human town, pit fights were held that pitted one animal against another animal. Everyone gathered to watch these matches, to cheer--and make money betting on--the winners. The losers were soon forgotten.

Usually the matches were fair, such as a lion against a tiger or a wolf against a dog. But one night, someone made a mistake, and out came two unlikely contestants: a rat and a lion.

The audience grabbed their sides and laughed at the craziness of the pairing. Yet nobody moved to stop the battle. Once the animals were released, the fights did not end until one was dead. That was the rule.

While the humans chortled, the lion smiled. "I thought I would have to fight tonight, but it seems I'll just be getting a snack." It flexed its powerful muscles and showed its great fangs. "Though I don't usually eat rats. You creatures so often carry diseases."

The rat lifted his chin, whiskers bristling. "I am not diseased, but if you want to eat me, you must fight me first."

"Don't be foolish. I'm bigger, stronger, faster, and my claws are as long as your whole body. What will you do? Bite my toe? Why don't you just come over here and lie down. I'll make your death swift."

"I will not give up that easily." With that said, the rat charged.

The fight was predictable. The rat's teeth could not even pierce the lion's thick fur to reach flesh. The lion laughed and swatted the tiny creature. It flew several yards and hit the wall.

The audience cheered and chanted: "Eat the rat, eat the rat!"

Though obviously injured, the rat limped back and attacked anew. This time he got in and bit the soft skin between his opponent's toes.

The lion screeched, jerked back his paw, and struck. Again the rat flew far and landed hard. Yet again, he came back to the lion.

The lion dropped a paw and pinned the rat to the ground. Still the rat struggled, thrashing and trying to escape.

By now, the audience had stopped laughing and jeering. Everyone watched silently to see what would happen next.

The rat tried to bite the lion again, but its small teeth did no damage. The lion did not release his pinned opponent. He could easily eat the little creature now, but he hesitated.

"Why will you not give up?" the lion asked as the rat continued to struggle. "Don't you understand? You can never win."

"You don't think I know that? Of course I can't win."

The lion twitched a furry ear. "Then why fight? Why make it harder on yourself?"

"To show everyone I am more than they think. When people see rats, they see vermin that sneak around and hide in the shadows. They think we carry disease. They go out of their way to put us down, to destroy us. But when they see you, it's a different story. They respect your power. They think you're noble. They call you the king of the jungle, for crying out loud!"

That speech weakened the rat, and its struggles slowed down. Blood seeped into the ground, draining from the rat's body, and the lion realized his opponent's wounds were mortal.

"Some of us are born to better lots in life," the lion said apologetically. "I'm sorry but that's simply how it is."

"It's worth fighting to change your lot," the rat whispered. "To change the way people think about you."

The lion lifted his paw. It seemed a shame to eat this rat. It had put up such a good fight, and he'd even call it noble, though its beliefs were surely misguided.

"Look, I'm not going to eat you, but you didn't accomplish anything." The lion gazed up at all the people watching from above. "They'll forget you by tomorrow. You'll never change anybody's mind about rats."

The rat wheezed and drew in its last breath. "I changed yours, didn't I?"

The Sapling In The Ancient Forest

A tiny seed sprouted in a great ancient forest and knew right away it had a problem. Tall trees loomed all around it blocking out almost all of the sun.

Since a tree cannot grow and thrive without sun, things did not look good for the little sprout. It might not live to become a sapling much less a full grown tree.

But afternoon brought a tiny ray of sun peaking through the canopy. The sprout basked in the warmth though it was short lived. It was enough to offer hope.

As the sprout slowly and painfully struggled to get enough nourishment to grow into a sapling, it noticed all the branches the other trees had. It must take energy to send those branches out in every direction, the youngster reasoned. Perhaps I'll just create enough branches to nourish myself on this beam, and then wait until I can see the sun to grow more branches. Then I won't waste any energy.

Years passed, and the sapling grew taller. It was frail from lack of sunlight and crooked from straining to reach that one beam, but it never gave up. Rains came and the heavy snows of winter, but the thin little tree did not bow beneath the weight.

Every day it told itself, "Soon I shall see the sky."

And then one day it brushed against the leave of the other trees. Though it was tired, it pushed itself to grow just a little taller, to pierce the canopy and bask in the rich air above.

It could scarcely believe it had reached the heights of the other trees, but while it had thrown all its energy into growing, the ancient trunks had merely grown a little fatter. So comfortable in their dominance were they that they had not noticed the upstart until it was too late.

Now all those great ancient trees are in the younger tree's shadow, and it has more sun than it could ever need.

The Wolf Pup And His Shadow

On a warm spring day, a wolf pup crawled out of his mother's den. It was his first time venturing outside, and everything was so big!

Trees loomed overhead. Hawks squawked in the branches. Water roared past in a fast-running river. A bear dug grubs from a log on the other side. What was friend and what was foe?

Overwhelmed, and more than a little scared, the pup took hesitant first steps.

Then he spotted something on a flat boulder by the river. A fish had been thrown clear of the turbulent white water, and it was flopping and thrashing.

This riveted the pup's attention. He didn't need world experience to know a fish was something he could eat. It would be far tastier than the leftovers the adults in the pack gave the pups.

As he inched forward, the fish continued to thrash. Any moment, it might wriggle itself back into the river, never to be seen again.

Sensing this, the pup walked faster. He was about to break into a trot, when a shadow startled him.

Startled, he raced back to the safety of the den. His instincts told him that great birds roamed the skies, and a little wolf pup might make a tasty meal for them.

From the safety of the den entrance, he peered into the blue expanse, but he saw nothing up there but the sun.

And that fish beckoned him.... He could almost taste it. Saliva dampened the fur around his mouth.

The pup strode out, intent on capturing that fish, but the shadow appeared again. Whining, the pup retreated. He paced anxiously at the mouth of the den. He wanted that fish so badly, but was afraid of the risk.

He gathered his courage and decided to dash for it.

The pup charged out of the den, ran across the beach, and pounced.

It was too late. With a flip of its tail, the fish finally launched itself back into the river.

The pup skidded to a stop on top of the boulder and stared forlornly into the water. That was when he noticed the shadow again.

It did not move when he did not move. He took a few steps, and it followed him. It was his own shadow, and it was harmless. Too late, he realized he had let his fear of the world create obstacles where there were none.

The Empty Field

A factory worker grew tired of accepting long hours, little pay, and a tyrant for a boss, so he left the city for the country. He wanted to harvest his own crop and reap the wealth of the earth. He took his entire savings and bought a piece of land from a farmer.

"It's good land," the farmer said. "Lots of potential. It'll yield you a decent crop."

Excited at the idea of one day harvesting a great bounty, the factory worker thanked the farmer with a hearty handshake. The he walked out and sat in the middle of the field. He imagined all the crops he would enjoy.

Over there would be corn. On that other side carrots and cabbage. On the end, he'd grow turnips. He loved sweet fruit, so he'd have strawberries and blueberries too. It would be pure joy to eat food grown from a field he owned.

The factory worker spent a long time imagining his harvest. He barely noticed the changes in the weather.

One crisp cool day, the farmer found him lost in thought in the empty field.

"Oh, hello," the factory worker said when he stopped daydreaming long enough to notice the farmer. "What are you doing here?"

"I got my harvest in. I thought I'd see if you needed a hand with yours."

The factory worker blinked. "I don't have one yet."

"Didn't you plant any crops?"

"Well, I bought the land. I guess I thought..."

"It'd grow on its own?" the farmer asked, mouth dropping in disbelief. "It doesn't work that way. The land's just the beginning. You have to put in work to see a harvest."