I Know What to Do. So Why Am I Not Doing It?

I recently had a conversation with a woman who attended a time management workshop I offered a couple of years ago.

"I've really been struggling with my calendar and schedule lately," she said. "And I just keep saying to myself, 'I know what I need to do. I just need to do what Kathy talked about in her workshop.' But I haven't."

I suspect many of us have said some version of the same thing.

I know I need better boundaries.

I know I need more downtime.

I know I need to exercise.

I know I need to spend more time on what matters.

I know I need to stop overcommitting.

I know what I need to do. I just need to do it.

Without really thinking, I responded, "Would it help if we set up some time to do it together?"

Later, I found myself reflecting on that exchange.

Why was that my response?

Why didn't I simply say, "Well, then go do it"?

Because over the years, I've come to believe that many people don't stay stuck because they don't know what to do.

They stay stuck because they're trying to do it on their own.

The Problem Isn't You

When change isn't happening, most of us assume the problem is discipline.

If I know what to do and I'm not doing it, then I must need:

• more motivation

• more consistency

• more self-control

• more willpower

In other words, the problem must be me.

But what if that's not actually the problem?

The people I work with aren't lazy.

They're responsible.  Capable.  Caring.

They're the people who show up.  The people others count on.

The people who are juggling work, family, caregiving, ministry, volunteer commitments, relationships, and all the countless details of everyday life.

The issue usually isn't a lack of effort.  (In fact, many of them are exhausted from effort.)

In fact, I think exhaustion is one of the biggest reasons we stay stuck.

When we're tired, overwhelmed, or stretched too thin, we tend to reach for whatever is easiest in the moment, not necessarily what is most nourishing.

It's a little like food. When we're overly hungry, stressed, and rushing from one thing to the next, we're more likely to grab junk than prepare something healthy. Not because we don't know what good nutrition looks like. Not because we don't care. But because we're operating with limited energy and attention.

The same thing happens in the rest of life.

When we're exhausted, it's easier to scroll than reflect.

Easier to binge-watch than plan.

Easier to say, "I'll deal with that later" than tackle something new or unfamiliar.

And then we beat ourselves up for not doing the very things that might help us feel better.

It's a frustrating cycle. Because the things that would help us replenish our energy often require energy to begin.

That's one reason change can feel so out of reach. The very things that might help us feel better often require us to spend energy we don't feel like we have.

Which is why I think this is one of the hidden reasons we stay stuck.

We assume we need more effort when what we really need is more support, structure, and accountability.

A Lesson I Had to Learn Myself

Several years ago, one of my coaches asked me what I do for renewal.

Not work.

Not personal development.

Not something productive.

Something that renews me.

I was surprisingly stumped.

Eventually I admitted that I love reading novels, but rarely make time for them. I always had reasons. I should be reading leadership books. Or coaching books. Or spirituality books. And besides, buying novels felt like an unnecessary expense.

My coach asked a simple question:

"How might reading novels more often renew you?"

The answer hit me immediately.

I could feel my shoulders relax.

I could feel myself wanting that.

I realized I wasn't just interested in reading novels. I was hungry for them.

Still, I didn't immediately start reading more.  I needed help creating a plan.

My coach helped me think through a small experiment.

What if I went to the library?

What if I kept a novel on hand?

What if I read for thirty minutes a couple of evenings a week instead of watching television?

Within a few minutes, I had a simple plan. Nothing dramatic. Just a small next step.

Looking back, I didn't need more information.  I already knew I loved reading.

I didn't need more willpower.

What I needed was support, permission, accountability, and a structure that helped me turn an intention into a practice.

Why Knowing Isn't Enough

I’m a “head-type.”  (Not a “head case” although there’s an argument to be made for that.)  I just mean that I tend to process life mostly in my mind - through my thoughts and ideas.

Which is why it pains me to admit this:  knowing isn’t enough.

Many smart, capable people already know a lot about change.

We know we should write things down.

We know we should start small.

We know accountability helps.

We know reflection matters.

We know habits are easier to sustain than heroic bursts of motivation.

Some of us could probably teach a workshop on it.

And yet...

Knowing isn't the same as doing.

Knowing better isn't the same as living differently.

I've seen this repeatedly with coaching clients.

One woman recently told me that one of the things she’s finding most valuable was simply writing things down.

Not because she didn't know these things before.

But because writing them down made them visible. Real. Harder to ignore.  And easier to put into action.

Writing things down isn't magical. It's simply one way of not doing it alone.  It's one way we stop relying entirely on our own motivation and willpower and instead create a system that supports our intentions.

My client can affirm that seeing her priorities and desires in writing helped her feel more empowered to act on them.

That's where knowing begins to become living.

We Weren't Meant to Do This On Our Own

Many of us carry an unspoken belief:

If I really wanted to change, I would just do it.

If I were disciplined enough, I could make it happen.

If I cared enough, I would follow through.

But meaningful change rarely happens through awareness and willpower alone.

It happens when we stop expecting ourselves to carry the entire burden of change on our own.

Support can take many forms.

Sometimes it's another person.

Sometimes it's a coach, a friend, or a community.

Sometimes it's a framework.

A written plan.

A calendar block.

A weekly review.

A small experiment.

A simple next step.

The form matters less than the principle.

We weren't meant to do this on our own.

And maybe that's good news.

Because if you've been telling yourself, "I know what I need to do. I just need to do it," perhaps the next question isn't:

"Why can't I make myself do this?"

Maybe the better question is:

"What support would help me live what I already know?"

That question has changed a lot for me.

And it might just help you get unstuck, too.

Like this blog? 

Sign up to get new posts delivered directly to your inbox!