I read a delightful little book some time ago called One Small Step Can Change Your Life: The Kaizen Way by Robert Maurer Ph.D.
In his book, Maurer outlines his kaizen theory that by making the steps towards our progress so small that we cannot fail, we don’t alarm the amygdala (the part of our brain that sends us into fight, flight or freeze mode when we encounter a threat - or a lofty goal) and are therefore less triggered by a small shift in our changes. The less freaked out by the idea, the less resistance we have and the more likely we will do it, right?
For example, let’s say you want to exercise. Instead of vowing to exercise every day for 90 minutes, from a baseline of 0 minutes, you might set the goal to march on the spot for one minute in front of the TV, then up it to two minutes, then three, and so on until you are exercising regularly for a substantial amount of time. Or instead of flossing your whole mouth daily, you decide to floss one tooth, then two, then three and so on. It sounds ridiculous. But in this way, Maurer believes you build new neural connections in the brain… you’re warming yourself to the change instead of throwing yourself in the deep end, so you feel more positive about what you achieve rather than feeling like a failure. And because the goals are so small that there’s no way you can’t achieve them.
You see, Kaizen is based on the idea that small, ongoing positive changes can reap significant improvements. And, as we approach the New Year, when people decide to go on their health kick, join a gym, attend for two months and then drop out, never to return, I genuinely feel there are opportunities to take a ‘small step’ approach to life improvement. For example, I can’t do 30 press-ups in a row, but I can do 10. So, lately, I have been breaking up my desk job with three sets of 10 press-ups spaced out in the morning, afternoon and evening. If I told myself I would do 30 press-ups in a row, I think I’d quit before I started. Instead, I have kept with the small goal and in just a few days of making this change, I feel my muscles becoming stronger, as is evidenced by how much easier the press-ups have become and how much less likely I am to collapse to my knees. Progress can be slow.
One of the interesting ‘community kaizen’ examples in the book is former NYC Mayor Rudy Giuliani’s ‘broken windows’ policing style. The broken windows theory stems from the work of two criminologists, George Kelling and James Wilson, who suggested that acts of minor disorder, like vandalism (broken windows and graffiti), were a gateway to more serious crime. By focusing on smaller offences, Kelling and Wilson theorised that violent crime and other undesirable activity would decrease. After taking this approach to petty offences on board, NYC observed a whopping 56% drop in violent crime by the end of the 1990s. So, maybe there’s something to it.
This all got me thinking of a sweet little example of Kaizen in my neighbourhood. There’s a path that is frequented by school kids before and after school. However, at least twice a week, someone was polishing off bottles of red wine, and when they were done, they’d smash the bottle to smithereens leaving the path covered in shards of broken glass. This was not just an eyesore, it was dangerous. I found myself feeling angry and frustrated by it. Many children and dogs walk this path daily and having stepped on a broken beer bottle when I was a child, I am well aware of the damage that broken glass can do to little feet and puppy paws.
The vicar of a local church would often go out there with a dustpan and brush to clean it up, and I and others would stop to help pick up all the broken bits of glass.
One time, we bandied ideas around… What would help reduce the chances of this happening? Security cameras? Security lights? Expensive, tricky to install and could also be smashed. Now I can’t take the credit for the idea or the mahi (though I would have happily helped!), but a succession of steps seem to have worked magic, and I’ve not seen any broken glass since.
First, the path was water blasted, the overgrown grass mown, and it was given a general scrub up.
A few weeks later, painted flowers, a Dr Seuss quote, hopscotch and a volcano appeared in vivid colour. And every day, children skipped and jumped their way down the path.
Then, a bunch of adorable fairy houses appeared in the trees and bushes of the neighbouring car park belonging to the local church. (While not related to the path, it certainly adds a little whimsical charm and child-like fun to the area!)
Today, three tree trunk logs have appeared as little seats, along with a ‘children’s library’ where people can freely borrow books and return or swap them. I’ll be dropping some books there today.
What was a filthy and dangerous mess of a place strewn with broken bottles and rubbish has since become a source of delight for children as they make their way to school.
I wish I knew who to give credit to, I can only guess it must be the local church.
Sure, maybe the person found a preferable place to drink, or perhaps they quit drinking and smashing bottles. But I like to think that it goes to show how little improvements over time really can make a difference in the way the public respect a shared space.
We are always told to dream big. We celebrate climbing Everest rather than getting to the top of the stairs. But instead of thinking of the ultimate possible outcome, it’s quite a refreshing strategy to think about the smallest possible steps you could take to improve your relationships, health or community.
I’ve been fantasising about how to get my book to become a bestseller in New Zealand, which means selling 5,000 copies. Although I believe I can do it, it’s none-the-less a daunting prospect. But it’s certainly a little easier to think, ‘How can I sell one book every single day?’
Remember: 'A journey of thousand miles starts with a single step.’ Lao Tzu Tao Te Ching