From the Front Porch
I remember the sound of that jar hitting my desk.
Not thrown. Placed. Deliberately. My grandfather didn't need to throw things to make a point.
I was in third grade, maybe fourth. Failing math. Not struggling... failing. And I didn't care. I'd come home, toss my backpack in the corner, turn on the TV. Homework? I'd get to it. Or I wouldn't. Whatever.
Then my grandfather showed up.
He walked into my room with that jar of pennies. Sat down on the edge of my bed. Looked at me with this expression I'd never seen before. Not angry. Concerned. Loving, even. But serious as hell.
"You see this?" He held up the jar.
I figured it was some old-school thing. Another way to help me learn math. Count the pennies, practice adding, subtracting. Made sense.
Then he said it: "If those grades don't come up, you better beat me to the river."
I froze. Do you know what that expression means?
It means if I didn't beat him there, he'd catch me. And discipline would ensue. Let's just say it wouldn't be good. If I made it to the river first, I'd be out of harm's way.
He wasn't joking.
He left the jar on my desk and walked out.
That night, I opened my math book for the first time in weeks. Not because I suddenly loved math. Because I was scared. And because he'd made it clear: This was on me now.
The first day was easy. I did the homework. Felt good about myself.
Second day? A little harder. I wanted to watch TV. But I did the work.
By day five, I was exhausted. By day ten, I'd sit at that desk staring at the problems, my brain screaming at me to just go play. By day fifteen, I hated that jar. Hated math. Hated the choice I had to keep making.
You ever have something you committed to that you just want to quit? Where every day feels like dragging yourself up a hill you didn't even want to climb?
That was me. Every single afternoon. Backpack hits the floor. I'd look at that jar. Think about the river. Think about my grandfather. And I'd sit down and do the work I didn't want to do.
Not because I was disciplined. Because the alternative was worse.
Three months later, my grades were up. My grandfather never had to chase me to any river.
But the lesson wasn't about math. It was about this: Choosing once means nothing. It's choosing again tomorrow, when you're tired and nobody's watching and every part of you wants to quit, that builds who you become.
A Hard Truth
You think the hard part is making the decision.
It's not.
The hard part is making it again on day 47 when nobody's checking and you're exhausted and the results aren't showing yet.
Last week you drew the line. You made the choice. You told yourself "this time is different."
Good. That was step one.
Now comes the part that separates the people who change from the people who just talk about it: You have to make that same choice again today. And tomorrow. And the day after that.
The decision doesn't stick just because you meant it. It doesn't become automatic just because you were serious.
You have to choose it over and over until the choosing becomes who you are.
Most people quit at day 15. Right when it stops feeling new. Right when the motivation wears off and all that's left is the work.
That's not failure. That's when the real choice begins.
The first decision is easy. It's the 47th one that builds you.
Today's Shift
The Daily Choice Framework:
This isn't about motivation. Motivation is what gets you to day one. This is about what gets you to day 47.
Step 1: Anchor the Choice to a Consequence
My grandfather didn't give me a pep talk. He gave me a consequence. Beat him to the river or face what happens if I don't.
What's your river? What happens if you don't keep choosing?
Not some vague "I'll regret it someday." What actually happens? You stay stuck. You prove to yourself you can't be trusted. You wake up a year from now in the exact same place.
Make that consequence real. Write it down. Look at it when you don't want to choose again.
Step 2: Track the Streak, Not the Outcome
I didn't track my math grade. I tracked whether I did the work that day. That's it.
You can't control results on day 10. You can control whether you showed up on day 10.
Track the choice. Did you make it today? Yes or no. Build the streak.
Step 3: Expect Day 15
The day you want to quit is coming. It always comes. Around day 10, day 15, day 20. When the newness wears off and all that's left is the grind.
That's not a sign you're failing. That's the sign you're at the real work.
When day 15 hits, you don't need a new strategy. You just need to choose again.
By the Numbers
The Daily Choice Compound:
- Making a choice once = 1 decision. Making it for 30 days = a pattern your brain starts to recognize as identity.
- People who track daily choices (not outcomes) are 3x more likely to maintain behavior change past 90 days.
- The average person quits a new commitment at day 18. The ones who make it to day 21 have a 65% higher chance of making it to day 90.
- 92% of New Year's resolutions fail by February. Not because people didn't mean it. Because they stopped choosing when it stopped feeling new.
- One daily choice, repeated for a year = 365 moments where you proved to yourself you can be trusted. That's not willpower. That's identity shift.
The math is simple: You're not building a habit. You're building proof that you're the kind of person who keeps choosing.
A Story
I recall staring at boxes of pills. Not one box. Boxes.
Testosterone. Heart meds. Cholesterol. Energy. Sleep. Every bottle a consequence of letting myself go.
I told myself for years: "I've got time. I'll fix it soon. I'll get serious when life slows down."
Then one day, I ran out of time. My body was failing. Life was on the line.
That hospital visit didn't fix me. It just started the fight.
Because here's what nobody tells you: The fight didn't end when I walked out. It's every damn day.
Every morning, I have to choose. Every meal. Every decision.
Most days, I still hear that voice: "You've done enough. You're too tired. You can get back on track tomorrow."
And I have to shut that down. Because I know where that road leads.
The choice I made in that hospital meant nothing. It's the choice I make this morning, and tomorrow morning, and the morning after that.
That's what builds you back.
(The full story of what happened in that hospital? That's coming later this week. It's messier than this.)
Tools for the Week
Last week, you drew the line. You admitted what you want. You made the choice.
This week, you need the systems to keep choosing when it gets hard.
In the member commons, you'll find two tools designed for the daily work:
The Daily Choice Tracker - Not a habit tracker. Not a to-do list. This tracks one thing: Did you make the choice today? Yes or no. Build the streak. Watch the proof stack up that you're becoming someone who keeps their word to themselves.
The Micro Wins Reset - A 15-minute evening ritual to end your day with clarity instead of guilt. Answer four simple prompts: What did I choose today? What friction did I notice? What identity did I show up in? What's one thing I'll do tomorrow? This isn't reflection for reflection's sake. It's how you close the loop on today and set up tomorrow's choice.
You made the decision last week. These tools help you make it again today.
Because the decision doesn't stick just because you meant it.
Advanced Play
The Accountability Stake:
Tell someone about your daily choice. Not for cheerleading. For reality.
Pick one person who won't let you off the hook. Tell them: "I'm choosing [X] every day. If I don't, here's what happens: [consequence]."
Then check in weekly. Not to celebrate. To report.
Did you make the choice every day this week? Yes or no.
This isn't about motivation. It's about making the choice harder to avoid.
When someone else knows what you're choosing and what happens if you don't, you can't lie to yourself as easily.
My grandfather didn't need to check on me every day. But knowing he would ask made the choice real.
Find your person. Tell them this week. Make it real.
What's Coming Next
You made the choice. Now you have to keep making it.
This week builds from that daily practice:
Tuesday: When You Want to Go Back - The pull of comfort doesn't disappear. It gets louder. I'll show you why that's normal and what to do when it hits.
Wednesday: The Unglamorous Middle - The boring part between choosing and results. This is where most people quit. We're not quitting.
Thursday: The Proof - How do you know it's working when nothing looks different yet?
Friday: The New Baseline - What life looks like when the work becomes normal. Plus, I'm introducing something that makes the daily choice easier: The Micro Shifts Course.
Use the Daily Choice Tracker starting today. You'll need that streak data for Thursday.
Share The Collective
Know someone who made a big decision but can't seem to stick with it? Someone who's great at starting but terrible at continuing?
Forward this to them.
The daily choice is easier when you're not the only one making it.
Closing Thought
That jar of pennies is long gone. But the lesson sits on my desk every morning.
The choice you make today matters more than the one you made yesterday.
Choose again.
— Damien
