The Roots Letter — Issue 001

The Problem Isn't That You Don't Know What to Do

When Knowing Isn't Enough

There is a strange kind of frustration that comes with knowing exactly what you need to change—and still finding yourself doing the same thing.

You know you should go to bed earlier. You know the food you're reaching for isn't really what you want. You know the relationship isn't healthy. You know you need to set the boundary. You know you want to exercise. You know you need to stop putting yourself last. You know.

And yet, somehow, you find yourself right back where you started. So you call yourself lazy. Undisciplined. Unmotivated. Self-sabotaging. Maybe you've even convinced yourself that something is fundamentally wrong with you. But what if the problem isn't that you don't know what to do? What if knowing isn't the same thing as being ready to make a different choice?

We Try to Change the Behavior Before Understanding the Person Behind It

We tend to look at a behavior and immediately ask, “How do I stop doing this?” But I think there's a more important question: “What is this behavior doing for me?” That little shift in perspective can change everything.

Maybe procrastination is giving you temporary relief from the fear of failing. Maybe emotional eating is offering comfort when you don't yet have words or skills to process difficult feelings. Maybe staying in an unhealthy relationship is protecting you from the terrifying prospect of being alone. Maybe constantly staying busy keeps you from having to sit with uncomfortable thoughts or notice inner pain. Maybe perfectionism creates the illusion that if you can do everything perfectly, you will finally feel safe.

The behavior may be hurting you, but that doesn't mean it appeared out of nowhere. Often the patterns we most desperately want to change were once the things that helped us survive. And that's where real change becomes complicated—and meaningful.

You Can't Always Out-Discipline a Pattern That Has a Purpose

We live in a culture that loves quick fixes and tidy solutions. Make the plan. Set the goal. Wake up earlier. Track your calories. Go to the gym. Delete the app. Set the boundary. Be more disciplined. And sometimes those things help. But sometimes they don't.

Not because you're incapable, but because you're trying to fix a deeper struggle with a surface-level tactic. You don't always need another productivity system; sometimes you need to understand why you keep abandoning yourself. You don't always need another diet; sometimes you need to explore what you're truly hungry for. You don't always need more motivation; sometimes you need to notice what you're afraid will happen if you actually change. And sometimes you don't need to become a completely different person — you need to stop treating the person you've become as the enemy.

This Is Where I Think Real Wellness Begins

For me, wellness isn't simply the absence of illness or the ability to maintain a perfect routine. It's about learning to become deeply aware of the interconnected relationship between your body, your emotions, your environment, your relationships, your behaviors, and the story you've developed about yourself. These aspects don't exist independently.

Your environment shapes your behavior. Your behavior shapes how you perceive and value yourself. How you see yourself influences the choices you make. Your relationships help define — and sometimes challenge — your boundaries. Your emotions affect how you relate to and care for your body. Your past informs what feels familiar and automatic. And what feels familiar can sometimes seem safer than what is actually healthy. That's why change often feels uncomfortable. You're not simply shifting a habit; sometimes you're reshaping an entire relationship with yourself.

A Question to Sit With This Month

Think of one behavior you find yourself repeatedly criticizing. Don’t rush to fix it right now. Instead, gently ask yourself: What has this behavior been trying to give me? Comfort? Control? Safety? Connection? Escape? Approval? Rest? Numbness?

Then consider: Is there another, kinder way I can meet that need without continuing the behavior that is hurting me?

You don’t have to answer perfectly or have it all figured out. You only need to become curious. Curiosity creates a little space between who you are and what you do. It’s in that growing space—patient, open, and forgiving—where real change can begin to unfold.

From the Roots

One of the things I've become increasingly interested in through my own work, writing, coaching, and conversations is this: we spend so much time trying to change our lives that we rarely stop to understand the person who is trying to change them.

That's a question I keep coming back to, again and again. It's also part of why I created Nurturing Roots. I don't believe wellness should be about forcing yourself into a shinier, faster version of who you think you're supposed to be. I believe it's about gently becoming more aware of who you are, where you've come from, what you've learned to survive, what you're still carrying, and what you genuinely want to cultivate from here. That's deeper work.

And it takes time.

Until Next Time

You don't have to fix yourself this week. You don't have to become a completely different person overnight. Start by noticing. Notice what you do and the small ways you move through your day. Notice what you feel before you do it — the tug of expectation, the ache, the relief. Notice what you're trying to avoid, and notice what you're quietly trying to receive. Notice what feels familiar, even when it isn't serving you. And most importantly, stop assuming that every part of you that feels like it needs to change is a part of you that deserves to be hated.

Sometimes the first gentle step toward changing a pattern is understanding why it was there in the first place.

Until next time, take care of yourself.

Michael Maddocks, HWC
Nurturing Roots Coaching