Forming Habits

“Spence, how old are you?” 

I didn’t even know his name. It was his first day in our horticulture class at Georgia Diagnostic and Classification Prison. He’d introduced himself earlier but was so quiet I couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“Twenty-eight,” I replied. We’d spent the last hour or so working side by side in the garden. New to the class, he volunteered for the easiest task, clearing rocks out of the garden beds. As I watched him pick up rock after rock, I sauntered over and asked him why we remove rocks from a garden. “I’ll be honest with you,” he replied. “I have no clue why. Someone told me to do it so I’m doing it.” My response was blunt, “That’s a dumb reason to do something bro.” Our conversation continued. I explained that we remove rocks from the garden to not only protect our tiller, but to remove hinderances to plant growth. Along the way, I slipped in lines about soil structure and soil types and all sorts of plant knowledge I’ve accrued over the years. After question after question, he asked me how I knew all this stuff. I explained, “Nearly everything I know I either read somewhere or picked up by actually listening to someone. I read a long time ago that if you want to change the way you feel, change the way you think. If you want to change the way you think, change the way you read.” I explained that our class had one requirement - every single week, every student was required to read one book. If the book was over 300 pages, they had two weeks to read it. Over 600 pages, three weeks. Over 900 pages, God bless you and good luck. From time to time, I would be asking the students about the books they read; there were no book reports due, no pop quizzes, just conversations. He nodded solemnly and continued to work in the garden as I moved from student to student.

He came up to me later alone. That’s when he asked me how old I was. I asked why. He was young like me, probably younger than me in fact. But his face wore a weathered look that belied his true age. I knew this boy had seen some things in his time.

“It just seems like you got it all together. But you’re young.” I laughed. Really laughed. “Bro, appearances aren’t always what they seem. I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am today, but there’s still a ways to go. I’m proud of the work I’ve put in, but my goal every year is the same. I don’t want to be able to recognize the man I was the year before. I want to always be growing.” He nodded solemnly. “You said that stuff about reading. I have been trying to read, but it’s hard. I can’t concentrate. My mind just races.”

The dialogue continued.

“What are you reading?” I asked.

“Some book on Egypt.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“No.”

“And when did you start?”

“A few days ago.”

“One, you’re out of the habit of reading. How long does a habit take to form?”

“I don’t know, 12 days?”

“Wrong. Research suggests 82 days. Every morning, I do 250 pushups. One set of 100 pushups, then 75, then another 75. If I told you to do 100 pushups in a row right now, could you do that?”

“No.”

“Exactly, I couldn’t do more than 25 in the beginning. It took time to get there. Reading takes time. Start with something you enjoy. That will help you get back in the habit.”

I can’t quite recall what else we said that day. But I can’t forget the look on his face as I walked away that day. In that weathered, grizzled, hardened face, I saw a big, fat smile.

I couldn’t wait to be back next week to find out what book he had read.