There are things we put off because they are inconvenient. The dentist, the paperwork, the cupboard that needs clearing out. We know they need doing, but there is always something else that seems more important, and somehow tomorrow feels like a perfectly reasonable time to deal with them.
Then there are the things we put off because, somewhere inside us, we know that dealing with them might mean having to look at something we would rather not look at.
Perhaps you keep reacting to someone in a way you don't like, or you keep finding yourself in the same situation despite promising yourself that this time you will do things differently. Perhaps there is somet thought, feeling or behaviour you have wanted to change for years, but you never quite get around to doing anything about it. You tell yourself you'll deal with it when life is a bit calmer, when work settles down, when the children need you less, when you feel more confident or when you finally know what you're doing.
Sometimes we simply hope that it will sort itself out.
And sometimes it does.
Life changes. Circumstances change. Relationships change. We change. Something that once felt like a problem may lose its importance, or we may discover that we have naturally grown beyond it.
But there are other things that don't disappear simply because we leave them alone. In fact, one of the things I have noticed repeatedly in my work is that things we don't deal with don't always stay neatly where they started.
A reaction that seemed relatively small can become a familiar way of responding, and the pattern can escalate. Something that happened in one relationship can influence how we behave in another. Something that makes us doubt ourselves can gradually affect other areas of our lives. One difficulty can begin to feed another, until what started as one relatively contained issue has become several things, all rather tangled together.
That doesn't mean we should rush to deal with every difficult thing the moment it happens. There are times when putting something aside is exactly what we need to do. Life happens, and there are periods when we simply don't have the time, energy or emotional capacity to tackle something properly.
There is a difference, though, between consciously deciding that now isn't the right time and repeatedly postponing something because we don't really want to look at it.
Sometimes the clue is simply that the same thing keeps coming back.
You may find yourself having the same reaction, thinking the same thought, feeling the same discomfort or ending up in the same kind of situation. You might even become frustrated with yourself because you know you don't want to keep doing it.
That frustration can make us focus on the behaviour itself.
Why can't I just stop?
Why do I keep doing this?
I know better than this.
But perhaps those aren't always the most useful questions.
One of the things I find particularly interesting when working with someone is that the thing they initially identify as the problem isn't necessarily the whole story.
Someone may come to me because they want to stop reacting in a particular way. Someone else may want to stop putting everyone else first, become better at saying no, or stop getting caught up in the same pattern in their relationships.
Those things matter, of course. But they can sometimes be one part of something much bigger.
There may be several strands involved that the person hasn't connected. An old experience may still be influencing how they respond now. A particular belief about themselves may be affecting their choices. There may be an emotion carrying much more weight than they realise, or a fear about what might happen if they really did behave differently.
Until those connections become visible, it can be very difficult to understand why simply deciding to behave differently doesn't seem to work.
Then something happens. The dots join up, this light comes on and a person suddenly sees a connection that wasn't obvious before and thinks, “Oh. That makes sense.”
Those moments can be significant. I have had clients tell me that they feel lighter, sometimes almost immediately, simply because something that had seemed confusing or self-inflicted suddenly makes more sense.
There can be a reduction in self-judgement too, although people don't necessarily put it into those words. Instead of “What's wrong with me?” there can be a recognition that there is actually something going on that they hadn't understood before.
That is valuable. But there is an important distinction here that I think is often missed when we talk about personal change.
Understanding something is not necessarily the same as changing it.
We tend to put a great deal of faith in understanding.
If we can work out why we do something, surely we should then be able to stop doing it. If we understand where a particular reaction comes from, surely the next time the situation occurs we will respond differently.
Sometimes that happens, but often it doesn't. A cognitive shift can be powerful. Seeing something differently can change our perspective, reduce some of the judgement we have been carrying and open up possibilities that weren't visible before. But it doesn't necessarily mean that the old response has disappeared.
I know this myself. There are things I know are useful, and I don't always remember to use them when I need them. Knowing something and being able to apply it consistently in the middle of real life are two rather different things.
That doesn't make the understanding meaningless. Quite the opposite.
Once we see what is really happening, we may finally be able to see what there is to work on. Instead of continually trying to force ourselves to behave differently on the surface, we can begin to explore what is underneath the pattern.
Sometimes an old pattern needs to lose some of its emotional charge. Sometimes the way we see ourselves needs to change. Sometimes we need to experience something differently or practise a different response until it becomes more familiar.
Exactly what needs to happen is different for every person. There isn't a five-step process that will produce the same result for everyone, because the reasons a pattern exists in the first place are not the same for everyone.
And that is where the work can become both more interesting and more challenging.
There is a version of personal development that makes change sound wonderfully straightforward. Decide what you want, believe in yourself, step outside your comfort zone and get on with it.
Real life is rarely that tidy.
Sometimes changing something about yourself means questioning something you have believed for a very long time. It can mean acknowledging a part of yourself that you would rather not look at or it may be about recognising a fear you hadn't realised was there, or even considering what might happen if you stopped responding in the way other people have come to expect.
Changing one thing can sometimes have consequences elsewhere.
If you have always been the person who says yes, what happens when you begin to say no? If you have always kept the peace, what happens when you stop taking responsibility for everyone else's feelings? If you have always thought of yourself in a particular way, what happens when that version of you begins to change?
These aren't necessarily reasons not to change. They are reasons why change can require more than simply deciding that we would like a different outcome.
It can take courage to look honestly enough to discover what is really going on, the courage of being willing to question yourself, to explore something uncomfortable and to stay curious when the answer isn't immediately obvious.
I admire my clients for that.
Not because they always get it right, and certainly not because they suddenly become wonderfully consistent at using everything they know. I admire them because they are willing to look a little more deeply and delve into parts of themsleves they had often ignored or misunderstood.
This brings me back to the question of putting things off.
I'm not interested in giving anyone another reason to feel guilty about something they haven't dealt with. If you have been carrying something for years, telling yourself that you should have sorted it out by now is unlikely to be particularly helpful.
Perhaps you weren't ready, or didn't understand it then. Maybe you didn't even realise there was anything to understand.
We are all doing the best we can with what we know, and sometimes we only become ready to look at something when circumstances, experience or simply the passing of time give us a different perspective.
But there is also something to be said for not waiting until a problem has become deeply woven into everything else before we give it our attention.
If you notice something keeps coming back, perhaps that is worth listening to. Not because it means something is terribly wrong, or because you need to 'fixing'.
Simply because it may be telling you that there is something here worth exploring.
And the earlier we understand what is really going on, the fewer strands there may be to untangle. A difficulty that is relatively contained can sometimes be easier to work with than one that has gradually become connected to how we see ourselves, our relationships and the way we move through the world.
But this is not an argument for regret.
If you are reading this and thinking, “Well, I've left it far too late,” I don't believe that.
It is never too late to start.
We can spend a surprising amount of time waiting for the right conditions before we allow ourselves to change.
We want to feel ready. We want to feel confident. We want to know what will happen. We want to know how other people will respond. We want to know that we will be okay on the other side.
Sometimes we want certainty before we begin. But certainty isn't always available.
You may not know exactly where the work will take you or what you will discover. You may not know whether changing something within yourself will alter something in a relationship or change the way you see your life.
You don't necessarily need to know all of that before you begin looking. You can start with one thing that keeps asking for your attention. One reaction you are tired of having. One pattern you are tired of repeating. One feeling that seems to have more hold over you than you would like. One thing you keep telling yourself you want to change.
And instead of asking yourself only, “How do I stop doing this?”, perhaps there is another question worth asking:
You might discover that the thing you thought needed changing isn't quite the thing you thought it was, or several apparently unrelated things are connected.
Maybe you find something about yourself that changes the way you understand what has been happening. And that understanding may be the beginning of something deeper.
Not everything has to be dealt with today. Not every problem needs immediate attention, and not every change needs to be made at once.
But if something keeps coming back, perhaps you don't have to wait for it to become more complicated before you listen.
There really is no time like the present.
And if the present arrives much later than you would have liked, that is okay too.
It is still the present.
