On Resistance, Junk Drawers and Murder Mysteries

Welcome to my Monday Morning Message

My not-so-secret pleasure: I will watch almost any murder mystery, preferably filmed in Europe, where everyone has great accents and complicated family secrets.

And like everyone I know, I also have a long TO DO LIST staring me in the face.

So how do we stay committed to what we say we want, without turning the whole process into a self-improvement punishment program?

Commitment matters. Goals matter. Vision matters. AND so does loving ourselves when we are inconsistent, scared, resistant — and suddenly convinced that cleaning out the junk drawer is more urgent than the thing we said mattered to us.

That is just being human.

Here is what I know: when we start moving toward something that genuinely matters, resistance will show up. Every time. Not because we are lazy, but because growth feels vulnerable. That is actually how you know it matters.

Maybe you are trying something new. Maybe you are returning to something you have not touched in years. Either way, the old voices arrive right on schedule.

What if you fail? What if you are not good at it yet?

And so we turn on the TV. We scroll for an hour. We tell ourselves we will write that email tomorrow, when we feel more confident, more ready, more certain.

But here is the thing: confidence rarely comes before the step. It comes because we take it.

So maybe the work is not to bulldoze through resistance, or collapse under it.

Maybe the work is simply to say: "Oh hello, resistance. I see you. You can come along — but you do not get to drive."

And then we take one honest step. Just one step that matches what we say we want.

Becoming who we are meant to be is serious work. We just do not have to be so serious while doing it.

Love yourself through the wobbles. Laugh when you can. And notice whether you are always cleaning out the junk drawer — or actually moving something that matters forward.

As for me, I have just crossed this message off my TO DO list.

You know what that means. Someone in a charming European village is about to have a very bad day, and I have a date with my couch.

Thank you so much for reading — it genuinely means the world to me.

With warmth,

Colette