Anti-Habits
After a trip to a Michael’s and some fun with chalk, sharpies and a wood-burning pen — with which I triumphantly did not burn myself — my bedroom dresser has now demoted my phone. Between my coin jars and keys, I’ve constructed a back-to-the-future app out of wood and slate. It’s my planning oasis (far from my phone and laptop) where I’ve been experimenting with building anti-habits. How did I get here, David Byrne yodeled at me. And why do I think my experiments are helping me make my habits even stronger.
Before we define anti-habits, we should talk about habits first. I spent several decades with no expertise or promise in this domain. I was a spacey, impulse-driven kid who routinely forgot to bring my lunch to school and could spend hours lost in drawing or legos. Amongst my friends, my nickname was Mr. Forgetful. We all had mercilessly accurate nicknames. That is until Becky’s mom found out that her daughter was being called Ms. Bossy. And so Becky’s mom ordered us to all stop using these names thereby ruining and simultaneously validating them in one cleverly accurate executive order.
Twenty years later my prefrontal cortex celebrated it’s 30 birthday and came out to a well-planned debutante ball (You down with PFC, yeah, you know me). I was a new father. My wife and I had move back to New York City and now I was trying to input everything that happened to me into an Excel spreadsheet. It was a quixotic attempt to understand the whys of my moods. I believe this is now known as the Quantified Self Movement. At the time I only knew this as “weird strategies Hugh thinks will help”.
Tracking motivated me with exercise and toddler schedules and moderated my drinking. Sometimes. Raising children eventually led me to switch careers and I became an elementary school teacher. I taught kindergarten, Second and finally Fourth grade. Perhaps we can think of the million or so pre-school and elementary school teacher along with parents at the advance team on habit formation. And we are so good at it that no adults ever struggle with ridding themselves of bad habits nor forming desired habits. Within the structure of a classroom the transformations that students make over the course of a school can be quite amazing. By January many have adopted work habits and pro-social moves that can surprise their own parents. And then in May time turns backwards. Even as adults we know all about habit breakthroughs along with slips off the rails.
And then I decided to make another career switch. I had partially educated a few hundred children and was becoming fairly jealous of them. They got reading time and math challenges and design thinking projects and service learning and music and art. I wanted more time to educate myself. And so I Kondo’d my classroom for the last time and left. I chose to investigate of how people model time. I’ve read dozens of books by sociologists, historians, neuroscientists, economists, psychologists, journalists, fiction authors and anthropologists. Many of the assumptions that I started with have been blown wide open by learning more about different cultures model time and how all human cultures modeled time before we all started living on synchronized clock time within the last century and a half.
Three bodies of information in particular came together to help me see the strengths and weaknesses of how we currently view habit formation. Eviatar Zerubavel is a sociologist at Rutgers who introduced me to the genesis of the scheduled clock time world we live in now. He describes how Benedictine monks used early mechanical clocks and a system of hourly bells to systematize the schedule of all of their worship and labor. An hour of chanting, and hour of praying, and hour of bee-keeping, an hour of ale-making (I hope?). It would take centuries for this systemization to transfer fully into the industrial labor force of the 1800s and eventually to the self-driven schedules of modern workers at their Results Oriented Work Environments (ROWE) of 21st century Silicon Valley.
The second body arrived from Robert Levine at Fresno State whose A Geography of Time relies on his sabbatical year of travel, and time research into other countries. Levine introduced me to the idea of interlocking calendars. Most of the measuring systems we use consist of smaller units that nest perfectly into larger units. 60 seconds nest inside of one minute, 60 of those minutes into an hour and so on. Whether we talk about centimeters or inches or even odd units of tablespoons or pints, almost all of our units nest snuggly inside of larger ones. But what if they didn’t. What if there was a purpose to units that do not synchronize. The Quiche people of rural Guatemala still sometimes use the dual Mayan Calendars of 260 and 365 days only since up once every 52 years. Since each day is a combination of two settings that will probably only happen once or twice in your lifetime it is important to meet with a calendar specialist when you are planning a wedding or opening a business. On the island of Bali there are still groups that use a series of 10 interlocking calendars with a length of 1–10 days. In a culture where Mondays can often seem like just that, Mondays, or a specific date without a birthday or holiday like June 7th can seem meaningless to me, the idea of having these complex interlocking calendars that make each day unique and meaningful seemed exciting to me.
The third body of information arrived from reading Nassim Taleb’s book, Antifragile. The central idea of Taleb’s book is to divide all systems and items into 3 categories: fragile, strong, and antifragile and look at how items respond to application of stress that randomly occurs in the real world. Wine glasses are fragile. Obviously. Wood is quite strong, it can be stressed quite a lot and not break. However being stressed does not make a wooden bench stronger. Human bones are antifragile. They can be stressed AND being stressed actually leads to them becoming stronger. Taleb’s ideas intersected with other ideas I had been consuming and in particular lead me to start to examine some of the structural weakness of habits and start to consider some questions. Why do habits sometimes die? Why are our strongest habits the ones that we’re not even aware of? How can we create many durable habits if we have so little consistently uninterrupted time? Why is the consistency of habits also their weakness? How do we make habits antifragile?
Let’s review what we think we know. In his book, Habits, journalist Charles Duhigg, defines the 3 major components of a habit as cue, action and reward. When training animals, the cue might be a noise, the action to press a lever and the reward an edible treat. Maybe we are more complicated than dogs but perhaps not. My personal cue might be my running shoes, my action a morning run and my reward an organic bolus of dopamine.
The definition of a mature habit is ultimately that it is truly automatic. A cultural anthropologist might suggest that your most primary habits are those that you are not even aware of. If they are aligned with your social culture, they are the very water you swim in and you will not even be aware of their unquestioned automaticity. In the two-system model used by Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky, it is your fast, automatic System 1 brain that can remind you to brush your teeth every morning because it is always what you do after you eat breakfast even if your conscious brain is drifting off to work meetings, or weekend possibilities. And so while in the very beginning of a habit formation cycle the cue and reward might be your deep reasons for doing something to make a personal transformation, eventually the habit-y-ness of it all is really programming your automatic brain to execute the order no matter what, and this is what leads habits to rely on time and place. Many habits are cued by a time of day or a location that you find yourself in. Often when people are seeking to build a new habit they often chose to get up earlier and fit their habit into the morning since it is one of the most dependably open portions of one’s day without others asking questions or making demands. Night owls often take the opposite approach and seek to fit more pursuits into their evening.
But why do we even choose to start a new habit?
Writer Gretchen Rubin explores this question from the perspective of personality. She examines the reasons for why people choose to adopt new habits and isolates four groups of people. The first group she calls the upholders. These individuals in just do it because they said they would. Because someone suggested it. Just because. Perhaps Jerry is an upholder.
The second group is the exact opposite. Gretchen calls these individuals, the rebels. In Hollywood screenwriting jargon they used to refer to the taunt that inspires rebels as the “Hill of Beans Speech” as in “you will never amount to a hill of beans” (To understand this jargon I think one needs to imagine a point in history when beans were much more lionized than they are now?) You’ve seen this storytelling device in countless times when a character is put down by a rival, a crappy teacher, or unloving parent. The unstoppable protagonist then wins, or becomes rich or gets the drug kingpin put in jail. Rebels like to prove something undoable can be done.
The third group are the Reasoners who are motivated by The Why. They can start a habit if they really understand it will help their health, or their child, or workgroup, any reason that is powerful and believable. The final of the four are the social animals in that they will keep going with a habit if they are accountable to other people. If their habit formation is public, or done in a team format with others.
Many people self-identify with more than one of these groups. So perhaps it is best to address her ideas as an exploration into why people start habits and to think about these various motivations and scaffolds as being specific to each person and instance. Her work does provide a menu of possibilities that one can explore as they plan to form a new habit.
And so if you know why you are motivated to start a new habit, when should you start? And how long will it take for you habit to become set? In When, Daniel Pink examines about all of the auspicious starting points. Perhaps the beginning of any month is better than the infamous start of new year’s day. He suggests that one can plan for the start, and also the midpoint at which point many people sag in their commitment. Have you even thought of an ending? How will you know if you succeeded. When you finally floss both in the morning and the evening for the last time before you have a massive stroke and pass so successfully into the next realm.
This holy grail of unbroken habit fulfillment is addressed in a widely shared story that Jerry Seinfeld uses a traditional wall calendar to track his daily writing. The empty daily box for today’s date is the cue to write, the action to write jokes and ideas, and the reward is to see the chain of Xs accumulating for that month. According to Jerry, once you see the chain of Xs piling up you want to keep it going and see yourself as someone who follows through on your goals. This principle of an unbroken streak was used by many runners in the 1970s and is also used by Alcoholics Anonymous with the tokens people achieve for the length of their unbroken sobriety.
Clearly this strategy of unbroken streaks sometimes works. And often doesn’t. What if running every single day isn’t a good idea? What if the research on Alcoholics Anonymous is contested and we admit that statistics show that most people will continue with drinking but benefit from moderate drinking? What if you know that you fail often with streaks? What if streaks are a high-wire act, the most fragile form of habit?
Regardless of whether one uses a Jerry Seinfeld calendar of Xs, physician Atul Gawande’s The Checklist Manifesto suggests that some written record be used to support the success of a habit whether it be a minimalist diary, a checklist, a spreadsheet or an app. The mind, even brilliant minds (especially brilliant minds?) is too cacophonous, digressive and imperfect a slate to rely on it to keep track of your habit success rate. As business consultant Caroline Webb suggests in How to Have a Good Day, writing down your completion as soon as you have completed a habit also frees up your working memory for other important mental tasks. Furthermore a record allows you to periodically go back and see if your success rate is improving from month to month, as suggested by Michal Korzonek in his habit of minimalist journaling.
Of course, most habits will fail at some point. Many habits will fail within the first few iterations. Other will fail within the first or second month. There is a weird inconsistency in facts about habits. It’s often asserted that it takes 30–60 days of repetition to form a new habit while simultaneously this is about the time frame in which persons fall off the wagon of their new year’s resolution. Are they failing just as they were about to succeed?
Post-mortems are an exercise to imagine at the start looking from the end as your project or habit turned out to be a failure. As you imagine all of the ways in which your habit might fail you can start to erect mitigating scaffolds to increase your chance of success. This exercise points to spending more time before you even start your habit formation to be clear on all of the whys whens, wheres and hows of your habit.
Let’s assume you had a clear understanding of your reasons for starting a habit. You conducted a pre-mortem and headed off some possible hiccups in forming your new habit. You have a reliable cue related to time and space. You have been tracking your habit formation with a written record and noticing gradual improvements in your success rate. You’ve been rewarded with a sense of personal accomplishment and see yourself as someone who can change themselves. You’re done right?
What are the many speed-bumps that can slow down habit creation or lead to a crash.
Plain ignorance about how the body or the mind works can stunt a new habit. When I was in high school I decided that I would get better at running long distance about which I knew nothing. After working on the maintenance crew at a golf course all morning, I would bike home 5 miles and then run. I ran 3 miles the first afternoon and felt great. So I ran 5 miles the next. And then 7. I continued using this simplistic formula of 2 more until I got to 13. After almost running a half-marathon, of which I had never heard of, I felt terrible, limped through the rest of my workweek and never ran again that summer. I had no awareness of building a base or what I was doing each day to my muscle fibers. Nor did I have any idea of recovery. My habit creation was thrilling and exciting for one week, before I crashed hard.
And so we learn more, we plan and schedule habits with greater care. I can wake early and meditate before anyone else rises and develop a new habit over weeks. But I might struggle if the baby wakes early, or I’m on a business trip in a unfamiliar hotel room. I might repetitively snooze my alarm the morning after reconnecting with a high school friend wherein we stayed out too late and drank too much. The important variety of life can conspire to interrupt our habits. In Duhigg’s model here we are discussing an interruption of the cue that comes from a change in time, space, energy level, willpower or environment.
Alternatively, success can also stress habits with the thrill of morism, of wanting to do more and more of something once it seems to be working. After my morning meditation habit felt like it has improved my days, I added a diary exercise: Julia Cameron’s popular morning pages. Then there was studying Italian. Then doing a slow-Kondo sort of my house which I think is considered criminally lethargic by her system.
My habits started to compete with each other for the uninterrupted times in my day: the early morning, lunch breaks, and my commute. Some days I was full of willpower and fulfilled many of my habits. My percentages hovered in the high 90s and I felt the good-student thrill of getting “Good job!” stickers adorning the tops of my worksheets. When I struggled with stress or felt slightly depressed, it would be a rough habit day.
New habits are a form of goal-setting and the depression/anxiety spectrum can really mess with habit formation. Depression can be reconceptualized as a dearth of goals or at least a lack of enough goals that seem achievable or worth striving for. Anxiety can be conceived as a surplus of goals. There are so many things worth doing that it can feel stressful to program the self and believe that we can all get done. Both depression and anxiety lead to the same result with is a lower success rate with one’s goals.
Another type of morism, sabotages success, by creeping towards addictive behavior. When I feel like a habit is working well, I get an urge to goal-creep, to do more situps or meditate for longer, or spend more minutes on Spanish. Consistently adding more pressure to set personal records with a habit can bring it down like a house of cards. By increasingly the level of challenge with a new habit I sometimes experience burnout. Negative feelings percolate as my improvement gradually wanes. And so a new habit might seem secure after weeks or months of successful repetition only to atrophy or disappear when my attention and focus turns to a new habit. Benjamin Franklin famously cycled through weeks of focus on over a dozen different habits of character. He always simultaneously succeeded and failed — he would ruthlessly achieve his current focus habit while short-shrifting many of the others. Can we ever have more than one goal?
Many business articles advise a ruthlessness about trimming your goals down to only three. I first bumped into this idea of harsh pruning of goals through the advice of Warren Buffett. I have since heard its echo in many other places. Perhaps it is sound advice for direction the central force of our work life if one wants to achieve a high degree of success in the center of our profession. But what about all of the individuals who are not as interested in being remembered long after we’re gone, but would instead like to lose some weight, enjoy our relationship with food more, avoid back problems, figure out what our children need us to do and more importantly not do this year, learn new things that will enrich our brains, keep meeting new people, maintain an exciting sex life and and and and everything else. How do we keep all our spools spinning like a chinese acrobat? What if we can’t pick three?
Or what if we’re too good at habits? We build them and then batch them into meta-habits, and our success becomes a series of monotonous days devoid of the play and the affirming energy that comes from seeing our lives as an infinite games. If we lose a sense of play do we also lose some of the reward?
Embracing the idea of randomness and just-right stress can allow us to regain the sense of play that was exciting when we embarked on forming a new habit. It can allow for greater failure within a story of stronger growth. And it can increase the flexibility of where and when and how a habit fits in our life with our many other priorities.
Randomness is an important ingredient we can use to stress habits, because it allows us to simulate the dynamic quality of stress that arises in biological systems. A redwood doesn’t know when the next rain, drought or brush fire will arrive. Animal might live within the unpredictability of cohabitation with several predators.
Setting the just-right level of stress is also important. We can model stress and growth as a u-curve (or perhaps as an upside-down u-curve, an n-curve?). Low stress allows for diffuse attention which can lead to distraction and boredom. High-levels of stress lead to feelings of anxiety, a desire to give up and turn towards learned helplessness. Moderate just-right stress focuses the mind, challenges one to build greater flexibility and strength in whatever systems are being stressed.
If we are going to add stress and variety to recapture a sense of play in our habit-formation we need to set those levels with intention and care.
ADD A PARAGRAPH ABOUT OPTIONALITY
Climate change is an interesting example of stress that is being studied extensively and often it is portrayed in a negative aura. And this is most probably right from the perspective of humans, bats, and coral reefs. It is too much stress for many of us. But it is also the just right level of stress for many other creatures and systems. Perhaps mosquitos, the greatest foe man has ever known, will grow more resilient and diverse. So much to look forward to!
Nassim in Antifragile has pursued designing many aspects of this life to increase stress to a more moderate level by engaging in intermittent fasting, wearing sandals, weightlifting and more. If you want to understand the rationale for his life choices, perhaps read his book. He is one of a kind, I think.
While stress is usually undesirable, it is also commonly understood “that which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”. Amy Morin, in her book, 13 things that Mentally Strong People Don’t Do outlines a lot of the thinking and action that one can use to design their modeling of their own self and self-concepts. She retells the deaths of 3 close family members that all occurred in Amy’s twenties and that she saw how she would respond to these deaths would determine so much of her future.
And while we should wish this level of stress on no one, can we design a moderate level of stress to play with and strengthen our habit?
Antihabits (How to try them)
When should you start? There is more than one time you might try turning a habit into an anti-habit. You might try once you’ve achieve a high degree of success or compliance with a habit. I usually prefer to wait until a habit is fairly secure after a period of tracking it for several months. Some people, get bored with their new habits way before then. You could also try stressing on of the habits that you’ve been deploying for years.
How long will you stress your habit? Once you add variety to your habit, it will no longer be truly habitual in the sense of having a regular set time, regular cue and regular action. Two weeks might be a good experimental length but you could try a period that is shorter or longer.
What are the parameters of your habit? For my daily habit of meditation, I decided that there was a duration (how long I meditate), timing (when during the day), location (where I meditate), position (on floor, chair, walking etc.) and focusing technique (breath counts, body scan, noticing divergent thoughts etc). Some of these parameters will be present for many habits, but you might define other parameters.
What is the range of reasonable possibilities. For each parameter that you define, create a menu of 3–5 options for each parameter. With my meditation anti-habit, I ended up with about 20 options.
How do you want to structure exploring the options? Do you want to turn slowly through all of the possibilities, trying one a day until your have exhausted all of the options? Or would you like to try a random strategy which introduces more surprise and another gentle level of stress in your anti-habit? And what about “open” days when you have free reign to structure your habit however you would like? It can be helpful to add a dose of full personal choice. How often do you want to be free from prompts? 20% of the time? More? Less?
Before you go further into you experiment it’s important to pause and reflect on both your reasons and your fears. Why do you want to try stressing an anti-habit? To try something new? To strengthen a habit because in the past you have eventually lost habits after a success period of a few weeks or months? To increase your flexibility so you can fit more healthy activities into your busy days? What are your fears? Do you worry that you won’t like it? That you will be tempted to quit? That it will ruin and break one of your habits that’s already working? Take the time to realize that you are strong and capable and that you really can see through an experiment to learn more about yourself.
How you will record your anti-habit stress period? Will you keep a spreadsheet, a simple index card or some type of diary? Why is it important to notate what you actually do or don’t do each day? Why might it be helpful to write down short reflections as you move through your test period?
Decide how you are going to produce your daily instructions. You can create a simple system with index cards on your desk or dresser. Or perhaps you might code a simple app if that’s your orientation. I enjoyed creating simple tiles with blank dominoes and a sharpie. Putting them in a bowl allows me to draw a random option each morning and put a slight stress on my habit that day.
And now begin. Allow your pile, bowl or app to make a suggestion each day. Limit the goal to one idea. In the morning my anti-habit bowl might suggest that I meditate for 10 minutes, or that I wait and meditate in the evening, or that I meditate in a new place in which I have never meditated before. Do not try to create multiple goals for one day. A suggestion might lead to a argumentative response from your brain such as “I don’t want to do that today” or “there’s no way I can fit that into this busy day”. Pause and notice that your negative brain is trying to limit your creativity. Realize that it is your creative thoughts that have helped you figure out so many other puzzles in the past that at first seemed unwieldy or trying. When my meditation tile prompted me to meditate in a park, my negative brain immediately barked back, “I am NOT going to be some creep in the park sitting with his eyes closed”. I couldn’t really see how I would be brave enough to meditate while people were walking right by me. Later in the day, I realized that I could just bring a paperback with me and pretend to read the book while sitting on a bench, a socially acceptable style of solitude in public. Later in the day I sat on the bench and relaxed my eyes. I turned the page with each slow yoga breath and felt pretty comfortable in public. I had all the same meditation struggles with constantly recentering my thoughts, however that was pretty much the same situation I might have in my own home. Afterwards, it seemed like something I wouldn’t choose as my first choice, but that could be an option if I was ever traveling and just needed to meditate and center myself . My reward was feeling creative and flexible and also more relaxed after I finished my meditation.
As you move through your experimental stress period, consider writing down what you notice and what you want to bring back to your habit when you are done with your experiment. Be open to changes you might want to make, or other habits that you want to stress. Listen as your brain defines where your personal limits are. But also question the rationale for those limits and consider why you might want to experiment beyond those limits. Approach the experiment with a sense of play. Even when one aspect of your habit is defined for you by your anti-habit prompt, choose all the other parameters with a sense of care for yourself. Maybe think about it like planning a meal. What else would make an interesting meal for the day? In addition to using an approach or play, stay mindful and pay attention to all that your brain says throughout the process. Don’t necessarily believe everything your brain tells you. Be open to stretch and argument.
What happens if you cheat and don’t meet your goal for the day? Reflect on the reason. Then return to your thoughts about why you wanted to try the experiment. Why might it be helpful for you to complete this experimental period regardless of perfection or the lack thereof.. If you are sure that you want to end the experiment early, be clear about what you are saying about yourself and your needs. Even an early exit can be an opportunity for self knowledge.
If you complete the period, consolidate what you learned from your experiment and what you want to bring back to your more regular habit. Will you want to stress it again at some point? Is there a different habit that you want to stress next?
As you start to play with creating anti-habits you might start to notice that you already had some. Over the course of two decades, I slowly grew an exercise anti-habit. I ran marathons before struggling through knee injuries. Next, I mountain-biked for years before the hours of driving to trails became too time consuming. After years of becoming obsessed with one sport at a time, I slowly moved toward developing a wide range of exercise options that were both creative and social. In any week, I can meet friends to row crew, cycle through the hills, tackle some new routes at the climbing gym, walk to yoga, trail run through the local parks. I enjoy exercising in the morning, but I can stay fresh while working throughout the day knowing that I’ll be able to walk around the lake at lunch, or lift weights in the evening. that my habit became much stronger as I could avoid injury, spend time with friends and family, and not need a race or special event to get my body moving with intensity. I now walk, row, hike, climb, cycle, spin, yoga, lift, and run. I don’t use a strict anti-habit system but the end result is similar: the weather or a friend, or a tired muscles group, or a class schedule might direct my exercise for the day. I don’t need a schedule or training log to have dynamic weeks and I’m able to stay in the healthy intensity range where I don’t get sick or injured. When my exercise habit was more habitual and regular and directed by training plans, I would always eventually run into sickness or a troublesome injury.
Over the course of many years I’ve developed anti-habits around food and eating as well as music. The advantage of intentionally stressing a habit is to achieve this level of comfort and diversity in a domain within a matter of months rather than years.
What else do I notice as I stress my habits? Sometimes when I’m ready to let a anti-habit return to habitualness again I notice that my preferences have changed. As I returned to meditation, I realized that with my more “mature” knees I really don’t have to force myself to always meditate on the floor. A chair can work really well for me even if it isn’t officially sanctioned by strict monks.
Sometimes I notice that I crave more predictability while at other times I want the invigoration that comes with randomness. I’ve tried to stress certain habits and experienced immediate growth while with other habits such as intermittent fasting the randomness immediately clashed against my goals of sharing meals with people I enjoy.
I’ve also noticed that my range of what’s worth doing seems so much wider. Previously I would never have considered a 2-minute worth using for meditation, but as I was prompted to try an ultra-short meditation session, I remembered a professional trumpet player explain that she needs to have a 90 second version of her warm-up because sometimes that’s all the time she has. Now, if I have just a few scant minutes and notice that my brain is more squirrelly I can easily see a short meditation being worthwhile. Each breath can be an opportunity to slow down and elevate metacognition.
I’ve also just noticed a much greater willingness to fit my habits into non-standard parts of my day. While I prefer a morning writer, I also know from being forced to through an experimental period that I can write in the afternoon or even the evening. What I had convinced myself was such an iron-clad rule is really just a strong preference that I can set aside if my morning has other important demands.
And when I feel like a certain habit never fit with an anti-habit approach I’ve prioritized certain habits that I realize are much more fragile. I reflect on how important those habits are to me and if necessary shift them to more protected times of the day.
How to Mix Anti-Habits Habits and Failure
Of course, some habits should always be regular and should not experimented with. Prescription drugs comes to mind as one example. And Buddhism teaches us that the only constant is change. And so we will never become robotic selves with sigma-six levels of habit success until our last days. Nor should we try. We are self-gardeners reflecting on what we want to add to our garden and deciding what we want to prune and make strong. Sometimes it’s important to let go of habits and let them die even if they seem worthwhile. (Example)?
Saying no to some things is often a powerful way to make room to say yes to other new important areas for change and growth.
Perhaps most important is to maintain a feeling of connection with the infinite game of self-change that we all get to play until the end. We can use attention and play and knowledge in a recursive feedback loops to build flow in our days and be alive.
Anti-Habits
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