BETTER THAN BEFORE, AND THE SEASON OF STARTING OVER

As the year winds down, I’ve been thinking a lot about habits — how easily they slip, how quietly they shape us, and how much harder they are to rebuild once life gets full. I just finished Better Than Before by Gretchen Rubin, a book about how we form and sustain habits, and it couldn’t have come at a better time.

Rubin’s framework is simple but revealing: people respond differently to expectations — some thrive on structure, others resist it, and most of us fall somewhere in between. Her real insight, though, is that lasting habits don’t come from motivation or willpower. They come from self-understanding — knowing how you’re wired and building around it, instead of fighting against it.

That idea hit me hard because this year has been one long string of false starts. A few good weeks of running or strength training, then a few where everything falls apart. A handful of journal entries, then nothing for a month. Before having two kids, this stuff came easily — the discipline, the rhythm, the consistency. Now, 1 + 1 doesn’t equal 2. The exhaustion multiplies. The mental load of parenthood — the logistics, the noise, the constant “Dad, can you…” — leaves very little energy for the quiet work of building habits.

There were times I told myself I just needed to try harder, that I was losing my edge. But Rubin’s book made me realize maybe it’s not about trying harder. Maybe it’s about trying differently.

Habits don’t have to be grand declarations or strict routines. They can be small, forgiving loops — short runs that don’t aim for mileage, quick journal entries that capture a thought instead of a page, moments of stillness instead of perfect meditations. The point isn’t to be who I was before life got busy. It’s to find patterns that fit who I am now — a dad, a husband, a person whose time and energy are spoken for, but who still wants to feel strong, grounded, and present.

Rubin’s title — Better Than Before — feels especially right for this season of life. Progress doesn’t mean perfection. It means showing my kids what it looks like to start again, to care about the process even when it’s messy.

Gretchen Rubin’s insights on habits connect perfectly to my approach to annual themes and the systems I use for daily reflection. It’s all about finding what works for this season of life.

As the year ends, that’s the reminder I’m holding onto: habits aren’t about control, they’re about care. The small things we return to, again and again, not because we’re chasing improvement, but because they make us feel a little more like ourselves. And maybe that’s what we want our kids to see — that it’s okay to start over, and that “better” is enough.