Research shows that morning people, or “Larks,” really do differ from night people, or “Owls.” Most people fit somewhere in between, but the extremes—the two chronotypes as measured by their sleep midpoint—do exist. The two types are more productive and energetic at different points in the day.
I’m a Lark: I go to sleep and wake on the early side. Owls do just the opposite. I used to believe that Owls could become Larks if they made an effort to go to sleep earlier, but research suggests that this attribute is hardwired. Genes play a big role, as does age: young children tend to be Larkish; adolescents tend to be Owls (with a peak at age 19.5 for women and age 21 for men); older adults tend to be Larks.
Interestingly, research suggests that Larks are likely to be happier, healthier, and more satisfied with life than Owls—in part, because the world favors Larks. Owls fall asleep later than Larks do, and because work, school, and young children start early, Owls get less sleep, which makes their lives harder.
Larks, Owls, and everyone in between should consider that aspect of their nature when trying to shape a habit. An Owl shouldn’t bother trying to form the habit of getting up early to study, and a Lark shouldn’t try to fit in two hours of writing after dinner.
Sometimes we may not recognize our own type. A friend told me, “I went on a meditation retreat, where we woke up at four. It was like a switch flipped for me, and my life became so much better. Now I go to bed around 9:00 or 9:30, and I wake up at 4:00. I love it.”
Am I a Marathoner, a Sprinter, or a Procrastinator?
Especially for workplace habits, it’s key to distinguish the pace at which people prefer to work. I’m a Marathoner. I like to work at a slow and steady clip, and I dislike deadlines—in fact, I often finish work early. In law school, I had two massive writing requirements to complete by graduation, and I wrote them both by the end of my first year. (Side note: perhaps my eagerness to write big papers was a sign that I wanted to be a writer instead of a lawyer, but that’s another issue.) Working on projects steadily, over long periods of time, ignites my creativity.
By contrast, Sprinters prefer to work in quick bursts of intense effort, and they deliberately wait for the pressure of a deadline to sharpen their thinking. A Sprinter told me, “I never prepare a speech until the people are in their seats, and I’m heading to the podium. It drives my staff crazy, but that’s when I get my ideas.” Another Sprinter observed: “I prefer to be completely immersed in a project for a short period of time. The work flows better, I can hold my concentration. Spread things out, and the total hours go way up.”
Sprinters and Marathoners usually feel good about their work style, but Procrastinators don’t. Procrastinators may resemble Sprinters, because they too tend to finish only when they’re against a deadline, but the two types are quite different. Sprinters choose to work at the last minute because the pressure of a deadline clarifies their thoughts; Procrastinators hate last-minute pressure and wish they could force themselves to work before the deadline looms. Unlike Sprinters, Procrastinators often agonize about the work they’re not doing, which makes it hard for them to do anything fun or meaningful with their time. They may rush around doing busywork as a way to avoid doing what they know they have to do. (It’s a Secret of Adulthood: Working is one of the most dangerous forms of procrastination.)
Sprinters call Marathoners “plodding,” and Marathoners call Sprinters “irresponsible,” but there’s no right way. Procrastinators, however, are happier when they change their work habits to work more steadily.
Am I an Underbuyer or an Overbuyer?
Underbuyers hate to shop and buy; overbuyers love to shop and buy. As a confirmed underbuyer, I delay making purchases or buy as little as possible. I scramble to buy items like a winter coat or a bathing suit after the point when I need them. I’m suspicious of buying things with very specific uses—suit bags, hand cream, hair conditioner, rain boots, Kleenex. I often consider buying an item, then decide, “I’ll get it some other time” or “Maybe I don’t really need it.” Because we underbuyers dislike buying, we often resist buying equipment or services that would help us keep our good habits.
Overbuyers, by contrast, find excuses to buy. They accumulate large quantities of office supplies or kitchen gadgets or travel paraphernalia with the thought “This will probably come in handy someday.” When trying to shape a habit, overbuyers tend to load up on equipment or services that they imagine will help them keep their good habits.
The underbuyer thinks, “I don’t need to buy running shoes. These old tennis shoes will be fine.” The overbuyer thinks, “I need running shoes, and a spare pair, and a reflector vest, and a pedometer, and a book about avoiding injury.” Knowing our inclination to under- or overbuy can help us identify opportunities to buy, or not buy, to foster our healthy habits. Underbuyers should remember that spending money to support a good habit is worthwhile; overbuyers should remember that mere acquisition isn’t enough to establish a good habit.
Am I a Simplicity Lover or
an Abundance Lover?
As an ardent fan of children’s literature, I’ve started three children’s literature reading groups. Yes, three. (When I started the first group, I truly believed that I was the only adult in New York City who loved children’s and YA literature.) At one of our meetings, a friend remarked, “I always want to feel empty,” and another responded, “I always want to feel full.” This was one of the most interesting brief exchanges I’d ever heard. I didn’t understand exactly what these two people meant, but it got me thinking about those who love simplicity, and those who love abundance.
Simplicity lovers are attracted by the idea of “less,” of emptiness, bare surfaces and shelves, few choices, a roomy closet. I’m in this camp; I get more pleasure out of shedding things than from acquiring things. I easily feel overwhelmed when there’s too much noise, too much stuff, or too much happening at once.
Abundance lovers are attracted by the idea of “more,” of overflow, of addition, of ampleness, of a full pantry. They always want to have more than enough. They like a bit of bustle, and they enjoy collecting things and having a wide array of choices.
Simplicity lovers and abundance lovers thrive in different environments. For instance, a simplicity lover is likely to work better in an office that’s quiet, with minimal decoration; the abundance lover in an office that’s lively and crammed with visual details. I visited a tech company that had just held a “decorate your team’s cubicle pod” contest, and stuff was everywhere, even hanging from the ceiling. I’m sure the contest was fun, but I thought to myself, “I could never work here.”
When changing habits, a simplicity lover may be attracted to elimination and simplification—to saving money by cutting off cable TV or quitting online shopping. An abundance lover may be attracted to addition and variety—to making money by starting a freelance career or learning how to invest.