AREN’T YOU GOING TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO?
Read time: 7 minutes
Welcome to My Musings
Where I share insights that have impacted me, thoughts on personal growth, and actionable strategies to help you navigate career and life transitions.
Today: Movement begins the moment we stop trying to get somewhere.
There’s this thing that happens when people start coaching with me.
They show up for our first call. We talk a bit. And at some point, they ask:
“So, are you going to tell me what to do?”
There’s this beautiful, almost childlike hope—this idea that just by showing up, answers will appear. That the act of engaging will somehow eliminate the confusion, solve the problem, and dissolve that sticky feeling of being stuck.
So, it’s no surprise that there’s a subtle (but very real) sense of disappointment when I inevitably say:
“No. I’m not going to tell you what to do. In fact, I won’t give you any answers at all. You will.”
That’s when the realization kicks in:
“Oh, shit. I’m actually going to have to do the work to get out of this.”
And that’s the critical moment. That split-second of insight. The decisive moment, as photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson might say. It’s the point where something becomes real. A choice emerges: Do I keep going with this? Put it off again? Keep contributing to my own stuckness?
That moment is uncomfortable. But it's also the start of movement.
Because staying stuck is easy. Safe. Familiar.
And irritating as hell.
I know this feeling well. For a long time, I believed that once I left the thing that was making me unhappy - once I made the big life change - I’d feel better. Happier. Lighter.
When I left legal practice, I thought that would be the turning point. I’d leave the profession I never truly wanted, and then inspiration would strike. Clarity would follow. Work would feel meaningful. Enjoyable.
That didn’t happen.
What happened instead was a freefall.
“What did I do?”
“How could I screw this up?”
“Who’s going to take me seriously now?”
“What am I even going to do?”
“How will I make a living?”
So, I kept going. I decided to become a coach. That would be the answer.
I got the certification. Took on clients. Built a website. Branded everything.
And then... another freefall.
“I did all the right things. Why do I still feel lost? Why isn’t this easier?”
Maybe I should’ve stayed in law. Maybe I should’ve never gone to law school. Maybe I should’ve moved to a remote desert town to make weird art and take a lot of peyote.
Once again, I’d bought into the illusion of arrival. That there was a destination where things finally “click.”
Eventually, I started to see things differently. With a lot of help, of course.
Here’s what shifted for me:
1. You Never Actually Arrive
Yes, there are moments that feel right. Days when things work. But arrival? It’s a myth. We’re always unfolding. As long as we’re alive, the path keeps moving. We can pause. We can rest. But we don’t get to arrive and be done. That only happens in one place - and you probably don’t want to get there too quickly.
So I started drawing on inner resourcefulness, creativity, and the tiniest movements forward. Microscopic, even. Still counts.
2. Be Patient
Most of life is out of our control. The poet John O’Donohue once wrote, “I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.”
That’s how I try to think of change now. You can’t force the river open like junk mail. You have to let it reveal itself.
3. Stop Trying So Hard
This was a tough one. My old therapist used to say, “Why do you have to try so hard? Even at half-speed, you’re still doing more than enough.”
Turns out, she was right.
The Buddhist principle of non-striving has helped me see this, too. When I stopped trying so hard, things happened more easily - and I was actually happier. Weird, right?
4. Trust That You Can Do It
Burnout messes with our belief in ourselves. Suddenly, basic tasks feel impossible. Taking out the garbage? Nope. Writing a 40-page contract? Forget it. Working with clients on real issues and preparing keynotes - both things I had never really done before? Oh man.
So, I tried to start reminding myself: “Jordan, you’ve done hard things before. You can do this too.”
That shift - however small - helped. Especially when I paired it with less striving. The results were often just as good, if not better.
5. Stay Curious
Curiosity might be the most helpful thing I have. It helps when I don’t know what to say to a client. When I have a stretch of unscheduled time. When I’m feeling “meh.”
Even when my kid is throwing a tantrum over a piece of cheese (true story), I try to ask, “What’s really going on here?”
Like analyzing a piece of art—why this color, why this angle—I stay curious. And it gets me out of the overwhelm and into something more grounded. Something more useful.
There’s more to say, always.
But I want to return to the beginning: none of this gives you a clean answer. None of it offers a tidy solution to being stuck, burnt out, or mid-transition.
What it does offer is the start of a deeper practice. A way of seeing. A reminder that, no - nothing is going to “fix” you.
As an aside, that makes my work that much more satisfying today - I know it was the right thing to move into because, even when I have my doubts, I am still able to remember that I am where I am because of, amongst other things, the foregoing - and that makes it worthwhile.
But if you’re willing to keep showing up, to stay curious, to trust that the smallest steps matter… then maybe you’ll realize that you don’t need to arrive at all.
Because maybe, you’re already there.
(Insert head explosion here.)
If you're navigating the messy middle of career change, burnout, or life transition and want to explore some of these ideas more deeply, I write about this stuff regularly here.
And if you’re in an organization facing these challenges—or just want someone to walk with you through it - let’s talk.
See you next week.
