If you know what to do… why is it so hard to do it?

There are so many things I know are good for me. Going to bed when I’m tired instead of thinking, “I’ll just do this one last thing.” Not automatically saying yes when I really want to say no. Putting something down when I’ve done enough for one day, rather than finding something else that apparently needs doing.

I know all of that. And I suspect you probably have your own version of the list too.

But before I go any further, try something for me. Fold your arms. Don’t think about it, just fold them as you normally would. Now unfold them and fold them again, but this time put the other arm on top.

Feels a bit odd, doesn’t it?

There’s nothing stopping you from folding your arms that way. You know what to do and you’re perfectly capable of doing it. But you’ve folded them the other way so many times that it’s become familiar and automatic.

Of course, which way you fold your arms doesn’t really matter. But what happens when the automatic response is something that does?

You can know you need more sleep and still lie awake thinking. You can decide you’re going to say no next time, only to hear yourself saying, “Of course, no problem.” You can know there’s nothing to worry about and still feel that knot in your stomach. And you can know you’re capable while a little voice inside still whispers, “Are you sure?”

That’s the strange little gap between knowing and doing.

We often assume that because we understand something logically, we should be able to change it. And when we can’t, we get frustrated with ourselves. I know better than this. Why am I still doing it?

But so much of what we do can be influenced by things we’ve learned along the way. Be helpful. Don’t upset anyone. Keep going. Get it right. Stay in control. Look after everybody else.

Do something often enough and it can start to feel like simply who you are. But sometimes it isn’t who you are at all. It’s just a response you’ve practised for a very long time.

That’s very much at the heart of the work I do in The Quiet Harbour. Rather than simply trying harder to change what’s happening on the surface, we become curious about what might be driving it underneath.

Because sometimes you don’t need another strategy or somebody telling you what you should be doing.

Most of the time you already know.

So over the next few days, if you catch yourself doing something you wish you could do differently, think back to your folded arms and ask yourself:

Is this really what I want to do… or is it simply the way I’ve always done it?

Because familiar and right aren’t necessarily the same thing.

Shirley x