Interview: Alan Burdick.
I'm fascinated by time, and our perception of time. Of everything I've ever written, I think this one-minute video, "The days are long, but the years are short," is the thing that resonates most with people.
So I couldn't wait to get my hands on Alan Burdick's new book, Why Time Flies: A Mostly Scientific Investigation. It's a fascinating, mind-blowing look at the curious qualities of time -- how we understand it, how it affects our bodies, how it's both an objective measurement and a subjective experience.
I just started this book yesterday, and I'm racing through it -- it's just my kind of book. What happens when a person lives in a cave, cut off from any light? Why does time seem to pass more quickly, the older we get? How is it possible that many people (like Alan himself) often wake up at exactly the same minute every morning? How can the years seem so short, and the days feel so long? And so on.
Alan is a staff writer and former senior editor at The New Yorker, and his writing has appeared in magazines from Discover to Harper's to GQ. His book Out of Eden: An Odyssey of Ecological Invasion was a National Book Award finalist. So he's a great writer to tackle such an immense and thought-provoking subject.
Gretchen: You’ve done fascinating research. What’s the most significant thing you’ve concluded?
Alan: Until I began working on Why Time Flies, I hadn't realized how deeply time is embedded in us. Each of our cells is basically a clock that beats out a firm twenty-four-hour rhythm; together these form bigger clocks -- the liver, the kidneys -- that also keep a twenty-four rhythm, and as group they're responsible for running our physiology. Basically, the sum of me, and you, is a clock, and respecting its rhythm is essential to one's health. So, for instance, I've stopped eating late at night, as that's the least efficient time of day to metabolize food. And I try to get outside for at least a few minutes every morning, because exposure to daylight at that time of day ultimately helps me sleep better. It's a matter of listening to the clock that is me.
What’s a simple habit that consistently makes you happier?
Running -- it's good exercise, of course, but it also clears my mind. I've been a runner since forever, and now that my kids are old enough, we can all go to the track in the afternoon or on a weekend and run around it together, I love it.
What’s something you know now about forming healthy habits that you didn’t know when you were 18 years old?
That having and keeping a schedule can be liberating. I used to hate the idea of planning out my day, with certain hours set aside for writing, errands, and whatever else; it felt confining. But that sort of planning actually relieves me of the stress of deciding what to do next – which, in my case, can fill up way more time than it should. So once I've blocked out my day, I can actually relax into each block of time a little more, because I don't have to spend any of that time thinking about what needs to happen in the next period.
Do you have any habits that continually get in the way of your happiness?
Procrastination; I put stuff off, although I'm much better than I used to be. Some years ago I read Neil Fiore's The Now Habit, and that made a difference. I realized that, for me at least, procrastination is often a way of avoiding making a decision – and simply acknowledging that is the first step toward actually making whatever decision needs to be made. I also make a lot of lists now; by writing down all the things I need to do, I remove the distraction of trying to juggle all that stuff in my head. Plus I have the satisfaction of crossing something off a list.
Have you ever managed to gain a challenging healthy habit—or to break an unhealthy habit? If so, how did you do it?
One of the healthiest things I can do for myself is to wake up early, at maybe 5 a.m., and put in a couple of hours of writing before our kids get up. That's the most productive window of my day. But I'm just not a natural early-riser; it's so hard to get out of bed at that hour! Often, instead, I do the opposite: stay up really late and write until 1 or 2 a.m. That's also a productive window for me – but it's exhausting and it makes my next day start late. The key to my establishing the habit of getting up early is to avoid the temptation to go back to work at night after the kids have gone to bed. Like me, my wife is a journalist and writer, and it can be hard for us to unplug from the world, so I always keep a good book by the bed to help me turn off my work-brain.
Would you describe yourself as an Upholder, a Questioner, a Rebel, or an Obliger?
An Obliger, definitely; I'm much better with a deadline set by someone else than with one I set myself.
Does anything tend to interfere with your ability to keep your healthy habits? (e.g. travel, parties)
My laptop is my friend and my enemy. It's where I do my writing, and I'd be lost without it, but I also struggle constantly against getting sucked into its many distractions and wonders – email, Twitter, Facebook, the news, Wikipedia entries about anteaters, and the rest. So I try to block out a couple of hours during my workday when I literally turn off the Internet; the software app Freedom is great for that. Even then, though, I'll start rooting around in my computer files, looking at old photos, cleaning out the hard-drive, anything to avoid the blank page. That's the point at which I turn off my laptop, put a notebook and pen in my pocket, and go for a walk.
Have you ever been hit by a lightning bolt, where you changed a major habit very suddenly, as a consequence of reading a book, a conversation with a friend, a milestone birthday, a health scare, etc.?
One night at dinner, when our kids were maybe 6 years old – we have twin boys, they're now 10 – one of them said for the zillionth time, "Dad, hey dad …" and it suddenly hit me: I'm their dad. Obviously, I knew for years that I was a parent and a dad. But I still thought of me as just me: Alan, writer, editor at various magazines, ran track in high school, traveled after college in Central America, and all of the other memories. That was my identity, and it matched pretty well with the way that Susan, my wife, sees me. But suddenly I realized that here were two people very close to me who knew none of that: to them, my identity was dad.
That made me sit up straight. In the book I write about how, as I grew into the role of parent, I sometimes felt like I was dismantling a ship and using the planks to build a ship for someone else. The story of my self wasn't just mine any more. It also meant that my habits, weren't just mine anymore either, so I needed to work harder at developing some good ones -- regular exercise, getting my full dose of sleep, writing at the same time every day. I'd gotten bogged down in the book, but that exchange with the kids pushed me to get reorganize, double-down, and finish. Also, by then, the boys were old enough to say things like, "I bet J. K. Rowling writes faster than you," and that prodding helped, too.
Do you embrace habits or resist them?
I'm very good with habits once I start them – it's the starting-them part that I resist!
Has another person ever had a big influence on your habits?
For the first couple of years after our twins were born, our life was chaos; we were learning to be parents, twice over; both of us were trying to work; and we'd just bought our first house and were discovering how much work that entails. Somewhere in there my mother-in-law gave us some priceless advice: make your bed every morning. It seems like such a small thing, which is exactly why it's so worthwhile. We start the day having accomplished one small task of self-improvement, so subsequent ones feel easier to achieve. And at the end of the day, if life is still chaotic, we have a well-made bed to crawl into. All these years later we still make our bed every morning, often together -- it's a like a gift to our future selves.