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Our new logo carries special meaning:- Clover-shaped elements to honour our heritage.
- Human figures to represent community and partnership.
- Heart-inspired shapes that bring to mind kindness, vitality and the spirit of caring that guides everything we do.
I absolutely love December; the glow of the holidays, the quiet magic of the winter solstice and the excitement of the upcoming winter break with my kiddos. But as much as I adore this season, I have to be honest: the lead-up can feel intense. Family life becomes a whirlwind, and the to-do list seems to grow faster than I can check things off.
Every year, I have certain traditions that I treasure—decorating the house, baking, planning special meals, choosing thoughtful gifts. These rituals fill me with joy… but they also add to my already overflowing mental load. Can you relate? That constant hum of things we need to remember, plan, schedule, pack and prepare?
In the middle of an already hectic schedule, we somehow try to squeeze in even more: holiday baking, shopping, decorating, class concerts, gift exchanges, and community events. Some days, I’m not even sure when I’ll find time to run simple errands, like making a return at Costco!
Time: Prioritizing it, protecting it, scheduling it
This becomes the real challenge of the season.
And then there’s the pressure—often self-inflicted—to make everything perfect. We slip into perfectionist parenting without even noticing it. But the truth is, we don’t need an Instagram-worthy holiday. Our kids don’t need us to recreate a magazine spread or host flawlessly curated gatherings. They need us—present, calm, connected.
Every December I have to gently remind myself to rein things in. I tend to do all the things, whether I’m hosting twenty people or just enjoying a quiet holiday with my little family. And yes, part of me genuinely enjoys it! That’s what makes it so hard to know when to stop.
But I’m learning—slowly—that the magic of this time of year isn’t in the decorations, the food or the perfectly planned atmosphere. It’s in the small moments: cuddling on the couch, doing a puzzle together, stepping outside for a snowy walk. Those are the memories that really matter. For us, with family far away, these moments of connection feel even more precious.
So if you’re feeling the weight of the mental load this December, know you’re not alone. We’re all juggling, adjusting and doing our best. May we each find balance—honouring the traditions we cherish while also protecting our time, energy and wellbeing. Here’s to a season that feels doable, meaningful and full of heart.
“Do you want to have more kids?” If you’re a parent, chances are you’ve heard that question more times than you can count. Maybe you’ve asked yourself the same thing. Maybe you’ve already made up your mind—or maybe the decision isn’t even up to you. Either way, it’s a deeply personal topic, and yet it’s often one of the first questions people ask after you’ve had your first child.
But why is that?
There seems to be this unspoken societal script that assumes once you’ve had one child, you’ll naturally go on to have more. And if you don’t, you’re expected to explain why not. Whether it comes from family, friends, coworkers or even strangers, the pressure can feel subtle… or not so subtle. There’s this underlying idea that a “complete” family must involve multiple children, that you’re somehow deviating from the norm if you follow a different model.
Personally, I never used to think much about people asking me that question. It always felt like small talk. But when I take a step back and really think about it, it strikes me just how personal it is. For some, it’s a sensitive or even painful topic. Fertility, finances, physical and/or mental health, relationship dynamics, life goals—so many factors shape this decision, and not all of them are open for public discussion.
What makes it even harder is how quickly the follow-up questions come once you’ve answered. If you say yes, people might jump in with:
- “When are you planning to have the next one?”
- “How far apart do you want them?”
“Aren’t you getting older?”
And if you say no, you might hear:
- “Why not?”
- “Don’t you want your child to have a sibling?”
- “Isn’t it selfish to stop at one?”
- “Who will take care of you when you’re older?”
These are not just small questions. They carry weight, assumptions, and—often—judgment. And depending on who’s asking, they can feel like a real invasion of privacy. Sometimes, I’ve wanted to respond with a firm, “That’s really none of your business,” but I usually just smile and navigate the conversation as gracefully as I can.
And then there’s the added pressure of opinions. We’ve all heard them:
- “It’s important for a child to grow up with siblings.”
- “It gets easier with every child.”
- “Children keep you young.”
- “You shouldn’t have more—you already look overwhelmed.”
- “What if the next one is even more difficult than the first?”
Just reading those makes my head spin. What’s especially frustrating is how often parents feel like they have to defend their choices. Whether you’re thinking of having more children, choosing not to or facing challenges that make the decision complicated or out of your hands, it can feel like you’re constantly explaining yourself.
The truth is, our society has deeply ingrained expectations about family—what it should look like, how big it should be, and what kind of future it should secure. But families don’t follow a one-size-fits-all model. Everyone’s journey is different, and sometimes, that journey includes only one child. Sometimes it includes none. Sometimes it includes many. And none of those paths is more “right” than the others.
At the end of the day, the decision to have more children (or not) is incredibly personal. Whether or not you want to share your thoughts on it is entirely up to you. So next time someone asks, don’t be afraid to set your boundaries—or answer in whatever way feels true to you.
Because no one else is living your life but you.
Sending you lots of love and positive vibes this month,
Jessica
When I met up with Hazel for the first time, I was already familiar with her determined figure walking through the lounge on her way outside for her morning constitutional. This sounds like a healthy and pleasant activity, but for Hazel, it is like a daily marathon as she struggles valiantly through the building with her walker, slow and frail but strong with purpose, a sure sign of resilience if I ever needed proof.
We sat down together as total strangers and, by the end of our discussions, we were firm friends. I felt honoured to have had the experience of befriending her and being allowed into her private life. This was not just conversations about memories, invaluable as these are; this was delving into the very core, cutting to the quick of her life. There was no small talk between us: we stuck to the notions of resilience, meaning and gratitude.
Having read Viktor Frankl’s famous book, “Man’s Search for Meaning” in the past year, I was very aware that for Hazel, there is a search for meaning every day which is part of her resilience and her impressive determination to move forward despite the challenges of her reduced mobility and dependence on others, especially coming from a person who has lived most of her life being the one depended on.
Faith has always been central to her sense of meaning, as well as helping her sustain and develop her resilience and her gratitude. It has been the central pivot of her life. When we first began to talk, faith was the first word that came up regarding resilience, but it referred to so much more in her life and not just the notion of church. It was refreshing and unusual to hear her say that she inherited her faith from her parents. Many of us follow in the footsteps of our parents with particular beliefs or tendencies, but I was very struck by the notion of inheriting faith.
Hazel’s life revolved mainly around her parents, with whom she always lived in Sillery. She was utterly committed to her relationship with them, enjoying fellowship with them, spending happy social evenings together playing word games and puzzles, watching favourite TV shows together, and going to St. Patrick’s Church on Sundays. They were her friends, and as they got older, she automatically switched to being their caregiver, taking them to medical appointments and looking after all their needs. This was a life she embraced; she did not long to have a different life or to go off to live somewhere else on her own; she consciously chose to stay with them in the house where she had grown up. She stayed in that house for 40 years. Caring for her parents gave her meaning and fulfillment.
There was a moment in her life where things might have moved forward differently when she became close to a protestant priest, but since he was divorced and Hazel felt strongly about Catholic conventions, she did not feel able to pursue the relationship or to consider marrying him. Decisive and resilient in holding on to her own beliefs, she did not regret her decision.
For 35 years, Hazel worked in administration for the Gouvernement du Québec, leading a team that computerized the system of expropriation of lands for the building of the highway systems in Québec. She worked with the analysts in the Transport department and had a great deal of responsibility both towards people and in helping to organize the growing transport infrastructures. She does not talk about it with pride even though I tried to persuade her that she could be proud of such a career. She enjoyed her work but it was not the most important thing in her life. Her values and beliefs always remained number one in importance and pride was not something that came into the equation.
Walking and reading have also been important and enjoyable activities in her life. She enjoyed books about life in the Southern States, including Taylor Caldwell’s novels, and would share and discuss these books with her mother. Her physical mobility, however, has progressively deteriorated and her eyesight has diminished so much that she can no longer read. When her parents died and she moved to the Manoir Archer, she would walk for at least two hours every day, sometimes stopping at the Laurier Shopping Centre to pray in the chapel there. I don’t know if this chapel still exists, but if it does, it is a well-hidden treasure that Hazel discovered. This was at a time when walking was already difficult for her, and she walked everywhere with her walker. The quiet and under-practised sense of humour was expressed when she mentioned that her favourite saint is Saint Jude, the saint of hopeless causes. Were we all so humble, the world might be a better place!
Now that Hazel has reduced vision, she can no longer enjoy the puzzles, newspapers and books that she so enjoyed, but she does not feel bitter about her disabilities, despite the amount of physical and emotional effort required each day to keep going. She claims nothing actually gives her joy; living each day is hard work, but she is grateful at the end of each day that she can still walk. Furthermore, she still finds moments of peace at the weekly mass, which is another kind of gratitude.
“We lose what we value most,” she says, reflecting on her physical challenges and those of past friends, but then she goes on to say, “Everything is a gift if we use it that way,” and we continue to have a wonderful discussion about life’s ironies. We don’t choose to suffer, but facing suffering instead of trying to avoid it has made Hazel who she is today. Prayer has helped her get through tough times and continues to give her courage. Treated as a gift, suffering gives birth to a powerful resilience.
One could say that Hazel has two parallel trinities: her Catholic Trinity and the Trinity of Resilience, Meaning and Gratitude. After we finished our last discussion, I was reminded of John Milton’s sonnet on his blindness, and I thought how appropriate that is for Hazel’s life now. And so I end with the famous quote, “They also serve who only stand and wait.” Hazel’s quiet patience and faith are also a valuable form of service.
Conversations with Hazel took place in August and September 2025.
Article written by Sarah Blair (volunteer)
Jean Saville was born in Québec City, the oldest of 4 girls and 2 boys. She has 2 surviving sisters living in Québec City and a brother in Montréal. A strong and lovely lady, Jean acquired her basic French language skills in grade school as a second language and also through the French-Canadian children in her local area. She states that she still manages to get by in life with these skills. During her English schooling, Jean was rather a lone wolf, keeping to herself, but a young girl who was very keen on reading. This proved to be frustrating for her as there was limited access to books written in English. So, she eagerly read all that she could get her hands on!
After school, Jean worked for a short time, but was uncomfortable being around a lot of people. It was then that she felt a strong calling and entered the convent at the Sisters of Charity in Halifax. This was a particularly difficult time for her. She was overcome with feelings of loneliness, of being unsociable and of not belonging. She sought prayer as a method of escape. During her time at the convent, someone told Jean: “Vocation and what you do in life is a matter of choice.” As in French culture, she knew that the first born was given to God and therefore knew this to be her vocation. Although it was extremely hard for Jean, she chose to be resilient, maintaining her place at the convent for more than 5 years. This was due largely to the help of many of the kind nuns there, as well as various doctors who spoke to Jean and tried to help her understand her problems. After a time, however, Jean decided that even though she had made this choice, it had become clear to her that the reality was beyond her realm of capability. She felt that remaining there was going against the grain. Now some might think that Jean would have given up. But as she said, “I’ll never give up” because she was (and still is!) a very stubborn woman.
She returned to her parents’ home and lived there for some time. Family is extremely precious to her. She felt meaning in her life, unselfishly giving her time and engaging in activities in the service of others. It was, unfortunately, after leaving the convent that Jean experienced several more challenges in her life. Doctors finally diagnosed her with schizophrenia. While this was devastating news, she at last had an answer for some of her earlier problems in life. Sometime later, Jean had a fall and developed eye problems as she refused to seek hospital care. The damaged retina caused her much pain and anguish. During this stressful time, she often experienced feelings of sorrow, but again, through thoughtful prayer and stubbornness, she persevered and continues to this day to find ways to continue her love of reading. In her 60’s, Jean began searching out and reading religious books. She had a vast collection of them in her home which she prized above all else. She has asked for certain accommodations to help her maintain as normal a life as possible with her reading. Jean refuses to give up. “I’ve got a good heart; I can’t give up. That keeps me going.”
All throughout Jean’s journey, she acknowledges thankfulness to a host of people who have crossed her path. People, she says, from every walk of life have shared their sound advice with her. Additionally, simple acts of kindness such as having phone numbers of her family written in large print by her chair, phone numbers also of those who would provide her transportation outside of the residence, as well as other items and accommodations provided to her with little to no cost humble her and fill her with gratitude. She greatly appreciates the volunteers at Saint Brigid’s Home, stating that they are “priceless”. Also of note, she expressed her contentment at being able to attend BINGO, having her nails done, attending the birthday tea parties and listening to the pianist play. She is blessed to exist in such a vibrant place as Saint Brigid’s Home.
Jean Saville has expressed that she refuses to give up. This stubbornness has given her meaning and purpose. She states that God reminds us that he accepts into Heaven only those who are willing to fight, to persevere through hardship. Though she has endured many challenges in her life, she proves to be resilient and steadfast. She marches on and is eager to help others along the way. And she is forever grateful for all those who have walked this journey together with her.
In early July, I received an email inviting me to write about the life experiences of a local senior. I accepted with enthusiasm and, a few weeks later, learned that I would be meeting Elizabeth Vatcher, a 99-year-old resident of Saint Brigid’s Home.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, only that Elizabeth had lived nearly a century and I would help share her story. Over three visits in August, I came to know a woman shaped by love, sacrifice, resilience, and gratitude.
Elizabeth welcomed me warmly. She told me she was named after her grandmother, and that her middle name, Mary, was passed down from her mother. She was born in 1926 in the paper-mill town of Kenogami (now part of Saguenay), the second of eight children.
The streets she grew up on, Cabot and Price, were gravel roads back then. She remembers playing marbles in the dirt with her friends. Since her family didn’t own a car, she walked everywhere. The neighbourhood was mostly English-speaking, and she attended Saint Andrew’s United Church and the local English Protestant school.
“I had to leave school at age ten,” she told me. “I never finished Grade 5. I had to stay home and help my mother look after my younger siblings. I had to make sure they had clean clothes and got their feet washed every night.”
There was no bathtub or shower in Elizabeth’s childhood home. The family used a galvanized metal basin for bathing—just large enough for the younger children to sit in, one at a time, with their legs crossed. For the older ones, it was a two-step process. “You’d sit in it with your legs hanging out, get your top washed first, then sit on a little wooden chair to wash the rest.”
Later, she fell in love with Wilfrid, a French-speaking Catholic who lived nearby and attended the local French Catholic school. Elizabeth was a Protestant, though, and in 1940s Québec, that difference mattered.
“I used to play with his sisters,” she recalled. “When we were all just kids having fun, religion wasn’t an issue. But when he and I wanted to get married, it became one. That’s the way it was in those days.”
Elizabeth chose to convert to Catholicism so she could marry Wilfrid. “I had to read from Le catéchisme and learn everything on my own,” she said. “I went to the priest’s office at the presbytery. He would question me on my readings, and I’d answer. It took several months.”
Her parents respected her decision. “They understood that I was in love,” she said. “Wilfrid was a gentleman. He was clean, respectful, hardly smoked, never drank, and he always helped people.”
They married on November 10, 1945 at the Couvent Sainte-Famille in Kenogami. Soon after, they moved to Montréal, where Wilfrid worked as a welder on naval ships. They rented a small apartment in the east end. “It had no refrigerator or icebox,” she recalled. “I missed everybody from Kenogami. I was homesick.”
They returned to Kenogami about two years later. Wilfrid resumed his job at Alcan, where he had worked previously, and remained there until his retirement. All seven of their children were born and raised in Kenogami-Jonquière. Elizabeth remembers how, after a string of five daughters, “the whole town was praying for me to have a boy.” She eventually had two sons. “People used to come up to me on the street and congratulate me.”
She spoke fondly of the simple pleasures of life back then: cross-country skiing with other young mothers after the children were asleep, sliding at the local ski hill, shopping at Gagnon Frères. Eventually, the family moved to nearby Arvida (now part of Saguenay) and settled into a one-story house that Wilfrid helped build.
“For twenty years, we never missed a payment on the house,” she told me, smiling. She described the day the final notice arrived in the mail: “When we finally paid it off, everyone in the family danced around in the kitchen and celebrated. That was one of the happiest days of my life.”
On my second visit, I showed Elizabeth some old video footage of Kenogami in the 1960s that I had found online. One scene sparked recognition: “That looks like my mother walking!” she said, watching a woman pass by a department store window. She talked about the churches, the corner stores, the Collège du Sacré-Cœur, and the ski centre. She remembered it all.
On my third visit, I brought her a book I had managed to track down: The History of the English Community at Kenogami, Quebec: With an Emphasis on the Period 1912–1952. As we flipped through its pages, her voice lit up with familiarity: “He used to live across the street from us… I went to school with her… That was my first-grade teacher, Miss Black.” We found a photograph of her eldest brother, Tommy, taken on his wedding day in 1945, another of her cousin John, captured in a graduating class photo from 1946. On the headstone listing for the Protestant Kenogami Cemetery, we found the names of her parents, James Vatcher and Mary Mansbridge, who passed away in 1957 and 1979.
When I asked Elizabeth about the people who have had the biggest impact on her life, she replied, “my children.”
“All of them went to English school, but they also spoke French,” she said. “I wanted them to do something and become something.” She smiled as she spoke of her daughter Hélène, who worked for Alcan and joined the company choir. “She was so proud of that.”
When I asked Elizabeth what she was proudest of, she answered: “That I raised a family and kept the house going, most of the time by myself. My husband worked a lot.”
She has lived long enough to see her family grow across five generations: 17 grandchildren, 23 great-grandchildren, and even 2 great-great-grandchildren.
But she has also known heartbreaking loss. In a three-year period, she lost two daughters and a son. Her husband, Wilfrid, passed away in 1965. Of her seven siblings, only two remain: Allan, now 82, and Hilda, 89. She showed me a photo of her late sister, Beatrice. “She was so close to our family and so good to my girls when they were growing up.”
I asked how she endured such grief. She explained how there would be three days of mourning at the funeral home, where friends and family gathered. “And then you go home. You have to live through your grief.”
Still, she remains grateful. “When you’ve had so many bad days and trials, you appreciate the nice ones more,” she said.
Even now, she finds joy in life’s smallest gestures: a dish of cherries her daughter Anne brought her recently, or the birthday card that arrives on time every year from her daughter Jane. “It doesn’t matter what day of the week it is, she always gets it to me on time.”
She told me it makes her happy when her children bring up memories from long ago. “Remember, Mom…?” they ask. And she does. “Those are the best moments,” she said.
As I wrapped up our final visit, I asked Elizabeth what she’s thankful for today.
“That I’m still alive,” she said.
After a pause, she added, “I know I’m not the best at this, but I try to remember as much as I can.”
Then she asked, “Do you think my story is worthwhile?”
“Of course it is,” I replied. “You’ve lived through nearly a century of change—so much life, so much history. It deserves to be shared.”
“Thank you for thinking of me,” she said.
Author’s Note
It was an honour to spend time with Elizabeth and hear her story firsthand. Over the course of just a few short visits, I was struck by her strength, humility, and ability to find joy in life’s simplest moments. I’m grateful for the opportunity to help share her voice. Her story reminds us that the meaning of our lives is found in our connections with other people, and that even in the face of grief and loss, gratitude can endure.
Elizabeth passed away at Saint Brigid’s Home on September 2nd, 2025.
Bibliography
Google. (n.d.). [Street View of 3714 Rue Cabot, Jonquière, QC]. Retrieved August 11, 2025
Radio Canada Info. (2015, February 25). ICI NOTRE HISTOIRE : Kénogami il y a un demi-siècle [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7gd5ha3RdcI
McIntosh, D., & McIntosh, C. (2004). The History of the English Community at Kenogami, Quebec : With the emphasis on the period 1912-1952. Epic Press.
- The soft colour green: Studies show that spending time in green spaces can lower stress, improve focus and even boost your mood. The soft colour green is especially soothing. It tells our brains we’re in a safe, calm place—something deeply rooted in human evolution. Simply gazing at trees or grass can slow your heart rate, ease tension and help you feel more grounded.
- The soothing shapes in nature: There’s also something special about the shapes in nature. Leaves, tree branches and clouds all have gentle, uneven patterns that are easy for the brain to process. These natural designs help our minds rest and reset. That’s why you might feel mentally refreshed after a walk in the park or even just sitting on a balcony with some potted plants.
- The big benefits of local nature: Over time, spending more time in nature has been linked to better memory, clearer thinking and even a lower risk of depression and dementia. And you don’t need to hike in the wilderness to get the benefits—short daily moments around greenery, whether it’s a backyard, a park bench or a community garden, can make a real difference.
My birthday falls in August, and every year as I get older, I feel that I understand and trust myself more. I don’t know about you, but as I age, I feel that I am much more in tune with things like: what energizes me, what drains me, what makes me smile, and which people I choose to spend my free time with. I suspect that having children inadvertently helps us prioritize. Because our time is very limited, we tend to cherish the free time that we have. I also find that I tend to appreciate the smaller things more, like the occasions I get to enjoy a cup of coffee in peace and that is still warm , or a few minutes to myself to indulge in a good book.
Identity change
I still remember the first time that I referred to myself as a mother and a parent. It felt very strange and an almost unnatural label at first, but over time, it became a part of me. Becoming a parent for many of us involves a kind of identity change. As parents, we tend to refer to ourselves more often as “we” rather than “I” since we usually have little ones trailing along with us.
The first year of parenting is very intense, as I’m sure you know. During that time, I mourned aspects of my old life and what things were like before having a child. Can you relate? Things like the rhythm of my life, my schedule, independence, flexibility, sleep, free time and uninterrupted conversations. Not to mention the loss of my body (not literally, but rather how it had changed) and also how I was no longer the only one who seemed to have ownership over it. There was always someone attached to me, pulling on me, needing to be carried or joining me in every bathroom visit. I can’t pinpoint the exact point when I stopped mourning my life before children, but I gradually became accustomed to the way my life has evolved, and now I embrace it.
Remember who you are
“Remember who you are” is something that my father used to always say to me and my siblings growing up. Now, when I reflect on it, I can see that it meant something different to me as a teenager and young adult than it does to me today as a parent. When I was younger and heading out with friends on the town, my father would always say, “Remember who you are” as I was leaving the house. At the time, I interpreted it as: remember your values, stay out of trouble and make wise judgements and decisions. Now, as a parent, I interpret “remember who you are” differently. I see it as: remember your identity and fill your bucket with things that energize you. In other words, remember what makes you feel alive.
Raising little human beings is magical and life-changing, but it is also hard work. As parents, we often tend to doubt ourselves or self-criticize, especially in the early days. The good news is that we do grow and mature as parents. We build more confidence in ourselves and learn to trust ourselves. If you are not there yet, not to worry, your time will come when you feel more self-assured in your role. Just keep believing in yourself and remember that in your little one’s eyes, you can do no wrong and are the most amazing person in the world. ❤ Also, every day, they will grow a little more and need you just a little bit less.
Pause to celebrate you
My birthday has reminded me how important it is that we pause to celebrate ourselves in little ways. It can be on our birthdays or any day of the year, and it can be in big or small ways. What is important is to remember what makes us feel good personally, what makes us light up, and to make time, somehow, to allow ourselves these small moments of happiness.
I wish you all a wonderful August and a restful summer.
Jessica
One spring day, the spring of time, Mother Nature was having fun with the herb she had just invented: catnip. It was while rolling around inside, his pupils dilated, each the size of a two dollar coin, that she came up with the idea of making humans. She then asked an animal to come down from its tree to use as a model, she began like this: two arms, two legs, two eyes, one nose. She decides to take it easy for once and gives him intelligence. She covers everything with skin and then takes out her colored pencils.
She has colours; she who has never worked with just one but always has a multitude. Colours fly, twirl, and apply themselves to the human being like millions of eternal hugs. Mother Nature is happy; she laughs.
Why stop before the outside? Colours enter the head, penetrate the heart. Diversity mastering art as a self-sustaining idea.
And the captured man she saw, came to life. He lived for centuries, then one day, out of laziness, he denied nature and wanted to limit the colours. Mother Nature is sad, she does not like it and no longer recognizes her work.
So let’s help her. Let us highlight these colours that the past has hidden to the background. We are beautiful in diversity. Diversity… it’s natural.
By C.C, Wellness Ambassador 2024-25
What Atomic Habits Teaches Us About Personal Growth
In a world where young people are increasingly overwhelmed by stress, uncertainty, and the constant demands of modern life, building healthy habits has never been more important. Atomic Habits by James Clear offers a powerful framework for creating lasting change – not through massive overhauls, but by focusing on small, consistent actions that compound over time. These “atomic habits”, much like atoms in nature, may seem minuscule on their own, but when repeated daily, they form the foundation of remarkable results. The book emphasizes that habits are the compound interest of self-improvement – tiny changes that appear meaningless at first but yield transformative outcomes when sustained.
At the heart of Atomic Habits is the idea that true, lasting change begins not with what we want to achieve, but with who we want to become. James Clear outlines three levels of behaviour change: outcome change (what you get), process change (what you do), and identity change (what you believe). While most people focus on the outcomes – like getting fit or being more productive – the most powerful transformations happen when we shift our focus to identity. Each small habit we build is a vote for the type of person we wish to become, and over time, our identity begins to align with these consistent actions. They work through a simple feedback loop – cue, craving, response, and reward – allowing us to gradually rewire how we think and behave. To support this loop, Clear introduces the Four Laws of Behaviour Change: make it obvious, make it attractive, make it easy and make it satisfying. These rules provide a practical, actionable guide for building better habits and making positive behaviours stick.
The first Law of Behaviour Change: Make it obvious
Since every habit begins with a cue, the clearer and more noticeable that cue is, the more likely the habit is to stick. Two of the most common cues are time and location, and one effective way to leverage them is through a technique called implementation intention. This strategy involves creating a specific plan using the formula: I will [BEHAVIOUR] at [TIME] in [LOCATION]. Another helpful approach is habit stacking, where you attach a new habit to an existing one using the formula: After [CURRENT HABIT], I will [NEW HABIT]. Both methods use context to anchor behaviour and, over time, even small changes in that context can lead to significant shifts. We are naturally more responsive to cues that stand out in our environment, which is why designing spaces that make good habits obvious can have such a powerful effect. As habits form, they become linked not just to a single trigger, but to the entire context in which they occur – eventually, the environment itself becomes the cue. This is also why it’s often easier to build new habits in a new setting, where you’re not constantly battling old triggers. On the flip side, the inversion of this law is make it invisible. People with high self-control aren’t necessarily more disciplined – they simply avoid tempting situations altogether. One of the most effective ways to break a bad habit is to remove the cue that sparks it. After all, self-control is useful in the short term, but it’s no match for a well-designed environment in the long run.
The second Law of Behaviour Change: Make it attractive
The more appealing a habit or opportunity feels, the more likely we are to repeat it. At the core of this process is a dopamine-driven feedback loop: it’s not the reward itself that sparks action, but the anticipation of that reward. The greater the anticipation, the bigger the dopamine spike – and the more motivated we are to act. One practical strategy for leveraging this is temptation bundling, which involves pairing an action you need to do with one you want to do. For example, listening to your favourite podcast while exercising can make the workout feel more enjoyable and thus more likely to stick. Our social environment also plays a huge role in shaping what we find attractive. We tend to imitate the habits of three social groups: the close (family and friends), the many (our broader community), and the powerful (those with influence or status). Because we crave belonging, we’re drawn to behaviours that earn approval from those around us. In fact, joining a culture where your desired habit is already the norm – and where you share something in common – can be one of the most effective ways to ensure long-term change. On most days, the pull of the tribe outweighs personal goals; we’d often rather be wrong with the group than right alone. This is why habits that bring us respect, praise, or a sense of connection feel so compelling. On the flip side, the inversion of this law is make it unattractive. By highlighting the negative consequences of a bad habit, or reframing it to expose the deeper craving it’s trying to satisfy, we can reduce its appeal. Every behaviour has a surface craving and a deeper motive, often rooted in ancient needs for comfort, security, or approval. When we learn to associate good habits with positive emotions and bad habits with discomfort or loss, we gain the power to rewire our motivations. A helpful trick is to create a motivation ritual: doing something you enjoy right before tackling a difficult habit can shift your mindset and make the task more appealing.
The third Law of Behaviour Change: Make it easy
When it comes to building habits that last, the key isn’t to strive for perfection – it’s to focus on repetition. The most effective form of learning is practice, not planning, which means action matters more than motion. Habit formation is not about how long you’ve been doing something, but how many times you’ve done it. Repetition is what makes a behaviour increasingly automatic over time. Human behaviour naturally follows the Law of Least Effort – we’re more likely to stick with habits that can be executed easily. That’s why it’s crucial to create an environment where the right choice is the easy choice. Even small actions, like putting your workout clothes by the bed or prepping a healthy snack in advance, can shape your day. Many habits are born in decisive moments, quick forks in the road that determine whether your day becomes productive or not. The Two-Minute Rule offers a great way to lower resistance: when starting a new habit, scale it down so it takes less than two minutes to do. This helps bypass procrastination and builds momentum. By ritualizing the beginning of a task, you can transition more easily into deeper focus and flow. Before optimizing a habit, it’s essential to standardize it because you can’t improve something that doesn’t yet exist. Reducing friction for good habits and increasing it for bad ones can dramatically shift your daily behaviour. This might mean placing your phone in another room to avoid distractions or using apps that limit screen time. The inversion of this law is make it difficult, and one powerful method is through commitment devices – choices made now that lock in better behaviour later. One-time decisions, like signing up for automatic savings or upgrading your workspace, can yield long-term benefits with little ongoing effort. In fact, automating your habits, especially with the help of technology, is one of the most reliable ways to ensure consistency and make positive behaviours nearly effortless.
The fourth Law of Behaviour Change: Make it satisfying
While the first three laws – make it obvious, make it attractive, and make it easy – help ensure that a habit gets performed, it’s the feeling of satisfaction that makes us want to do it again. Human brains are wired to prioritize immediate rewards over delayed ones, which is why small wins matter so much. The Cardinal Rule of Behaviour Change says it best: what is immediately rewarded is repeated, and what is immediately punished is avoided. To make a habit stick, we need to feel successful right away – even if it’s in a small way. One of the most satisfying feelings is the sense of progress, and tools like habit trackers can help create that feedback loop. Simply marking an X on a calendar or seeing your streak grow gives you visible proof of momentum. This reinforces the behaviour and builds motivation to keep going. A good rule of thumb: don’t break the chain. And if you do? Never miss twice. One missed day is just a blip, but two can become a new pattern. That said, it’s also important to remember that just because something is measurable doesn’t mean it’s meaningful – quality still matters. On the flip side, the inversion of this law is make it unsatisfying. If we can associate bad habits with immediate discomfort or social accountability, we’re far less likely to repeat them. Having an accountability partner can create a real-time consequence for slipping up, tapping into our natural desire to be seen as reliable and competent. A habit contract, a written agreement that adds public or financial cost to inaction, can further increase this pressure. Simply knowing that someone is watching can be enough to motivate follow-through. Ultimately, satisfaction, both personal and social, plays a key role in making good habits last and bad habits fade.
As habits begin to take root, more advanced strategies can help maximize long-term success and growth. Success becomes far more likely when you choose the right field of competition – an area where your natural abilities and interests align with your efforts. Picking the right habit can make progress feel effortless, while choosing one that doesn’t fit your strengths can turn every step into a struggle. While our genes can’t be changed, they offer valuable clues about where we’re most likely to thrive. The goal is to play a game that favours your strengths – or, if needed, create your own game entirely. This doesn’t mean hard work isn’t required; in fact, our genetic tendencies simply point us toward where that effort will be most effective. Once we’re in the right lane, the Goldilocks Rule becomes crucial: we stay most motivated when tasks are neither too easy nor too hard, but just challenging enough to stretch our abilities. But even in the ideal environment, boredom is the true enemy. The danger of well-established habits is that they become automatic, and with that comes the risk of complacency. Mastery, then, comes not just from repetition, but from habits combined with deliberate practice. That means regularly reflecting, reviewing, and staying alert to small errors and blind spots that might otherwise go unnoticed. It also means being willing to evolve, rather than clinging too tightly to any one identity. Over time, habits can lose their novelty, making consistency harder to maintain. The difference between amateurs and professionals isn’t motivation, it’s discipline. Professionals show up even when it’s no longer exciting. They stick to the schedule, rain or shine, while others let life get in the way. In the long run, it’s that quiet persistence that sets them apart.
The book also warns that habits can be a double-edged sword, working for or against us depending on how they’re shaped. Rather than obsessing over lofty goals, Clear encourages a shift in focus toward building better systems. After all, we don’t rise to the level of our goals, we fall to the level of our systems. In the end, the real power of Atomic Habits lies in its simple but profound truth: tiny changes, consistently applied, can lead to extraordinary transformation. Success isn’t a single moment or achievement, it’s the result of a system refined over time, through small, sustainable improvements. With the Four Laws of Behaviour Change as a guide – make it obvious, make it attractive, make it easy, and make it satisfying – anyone can begin to shift their habits and, in turn, their identity. For young people especially, this offers not just a framework for productivity, but a way to reclaim control, build confidence, and support long-term mental well-being. Progress doesn’t come from a single breakthrough, it comes from showing up, again and again. One percent better today, one percent better tomorrow. That’s the power of atomic habits.
