Body Mirroring and Motivation

I’ve always been a fan of YouTube videos documenting anticlimactic, everyday things. Whether it’s watching a college student narrate the process of giving themselves a haircut, two 20-somethings talking about life for 30 minutes while having a sleepover, or a woman silently making elaborate meals from scratch on her rural farm in Azerbaijan, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it all. However, over the past month or so, I’ve developed a more specific obsession: watching Study with Me videos. These videos involve someone setting up a camera to film themselves studying, usually including small breaks in between. They are recorded in real time with no background music – so literally just someone taking notes, reading a book, or typing on their computer for a very long time. The feeling of quiet company while watching them helps me to stay focused, motivated, and mindful. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about why I find this type of media so comforting, and in my process of reflection, I made a few interesting connections.

Over the past few months, I’ve lived in various long-term Airbnb’s with my girlfriend. We both are forced to bounce around due to our work and school situation. I’ve never lived this long with a partner, and in making the transition from living completely alone for two years to suddenly sharing space with another person my age, I’ve realized that completing most common tasks with another person around just feels… easier. Whenever she studies quietly, I find myself on my laptop next to her, doing my own schoolwork, sorting through emails, or catching up on bills. When she decides to do the dishes, I feel compelled to make the bed, or clean the bathroom, or wipe down the kitchen counters. I’m a person that flosses now, all because I’ve seen her do the same thing each night.

Falling into these habits with her feels effortless, but on our days spent apart - when she’s at the hospital for her med school rotations and I’m off work - I find it much harder to get anything done. It’s reminded me of a specific type of stress I felt when I used to live alone. There were, and still are, days where I would literally rather stare at the wall than run the dishwasher or vacuum one room. In those moments, the anger and upset I feel toward myself is at times overwhelming. In the early 2020s (lol), I wasn’t sure I had the language to describe what I was struggling with, but upon reflection I realize that maybe managing my life in isolation is what made it so much harder for me to exist.

Recently I was introduced to the concept of body mirroring (or, body doubling). Body mirroring is commonly used as a resource for folks with ADHD, as it can be much harder for them to complete tasks, remain engaged with work, and/or begin a new project on their own time. Although I’ve never been diagnosed with ADHD (and don’t know if I meet the criteria for it), I deeply resonate with similar themes of executive dysfunction, hyperfocus, time blindness, and difficulty with organization. After learning about and practicing body mirroring, I drew a connection between the daily habits with my partner and watching studying videos on YouTube.

The difference between my life pre and post cohabitation only became apparent after recognizing that lately I’ve been much more organized, mindful, task-oriented, and motivated. On my days alone, it’s no wonder that I enjoy watching videos of other people doing the things I should also be doing – it’s my version of body mirroring. This of course is not to say that I can’t function on my own. I’ve maintained my apartment, started grad school, and became a published writer while living in solitude for the past two years, and I turned out mostly fine. However, there’s no denying the peace I feel when quietly sharing space with another person, even if that person is meal prepping on a screen next to me.

As an introvert who used to swear by my sacred, uninterrupted alone time, I’m warming up to the idea that maybe being around other people can be really… nice. As long as they don’t talk to me.