Most of us have felt (or are currently feeling) mysteriously stuck. Despite all your effort, you’re left confused when the plan doesn’t stick. You feel capable and unreliable at the same time. You know how to work hard, you know how to generate ideas. And yet something keeps stalling.
So, you assume the problem must be motivation. Or discipline. Or confidence. You try new tools and new systems. New hacks you find online. You recommit and you promise yourself this time will be different.
But the same bottlenecks appear. And when they do, self‑trust takes the hit. That bottleneck isn’t random. It’s a signal. And this post is about slowing down enough to listen to what it’s actually telling you.
The Pressure Point Nobody Sees
A creative professional I work with hit a familiar wall late last year. Frustrated with his day job, he was determined to make his music generate enough income that he could finally quit. He’d been through this cycle before: hope driving effort not long before the stall. But this time the pressure was heavier.
“This has to work now,” was the ruminating mantra he had in his head.
If it didn’t, he told himself, he’d give up his music career entirely and leave the city. He was turning 40. The ultimatum felt justified and necessary.
We rarely say these ultimatums out loud, but they shape everything:
- If this doesn’t work, I’m done.
- If I don’t see results soon, I’ve failed.
- If I can’t make this sustainable, it means I’m not cut out for this.
These conditions quietly compress time, meaning, and identity into one fragile container.
That’s when leadership, especially self‑leadership, starts to crack. It’s not from a lack of effort, but from the weight of an unspoken deadline.
When Structure Becomes a Wall
To ground the pressure, I asked him to choose a single goal for the coming year. He landed on something symbolic and energizing: releasing 40 albums by the time he turned 40. To make that possible, he needed to release two albums in the next year.
So, we got to work by mapping out a Q1 calendar. Everything lifted for a moment. He felt relief and clear-eyed. The plan gave him a new burst of motivation.
What surprised him most was how much he was already doing. He self‑identified as a Dreamer (someone who lives in ideas), but the calendar revealed something else entirely. He was executing constantly, making him more of a Doer. It’s just that those tasks lacked a clear orientation.
The calendar structure worked…until life shifted. This is the part we rarely name: systems can be both supportive and constraining at the same time. We build them to feel safe. Then we mistake their rigidity for discipline. When they stop fitting, we don’t question the structure, we question ourselves.
(Take a moment to read that bold text again.)
The Bottleneck Isn’t the Missed Plan
When we met again in December, the motivation had collapsed. He felt depressed because he was “already behind” and therefore, “failing.” What broke my heart was how quickly he turned on himself.
The disruption to the plan wasn’t caused by avoidance or lack of effort. His mother had just been diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. He dropped everything to return home and help navigate end‑of‑life planning before she began chemotherapy.
The calendar didn’t fail him. It simply had no way to hold grief, fear, or uncertainty.
Still, he was desperate to make it work. As an outsider, I saw that the calendar wasn’t perfect from the get-go. It was just a structure we could hang things on. Internally for him though, it made him feel focused, capable and in control. And without that structure, the unspoken ultimatum returned: “if I can’t stick to the calendar, it’s hopeless.”
So, we renegotiated time to help him feel “back on track” with this method. As we worked through this revision to the calendar, I gently questioned the thing that felt immovable:
What if an “album” didn’t have to mean the same thing it always had?
This caught his attention. He was intrigued.
My motivation for asking the question was to get him to consider the challenge from a different light. No matter how well we plan, life will interrupt us. Learning how to stay steady in those moments doesn’t make you weaker. It makes you resilient.
The bottleneck wasn’t the missed plan. It was repeating the same structure without noticing the environment had changed. That’s where friction starts to feel personal.
The Moment the Room Gets Bigger
When we met in January, something had clearly shifted. The energy he brought into the room felt lighter and he was visibly happier. He excitedly shared photos on his phone of the work made since we last met. He was clearly having fun again.
I assumed things with his mother had improved. They hadn’t.
What changed was how he was creating. “I don’t know what this means yet,” he told me. “I don’t know where it’s going. But I’m having fun. And that feels good.”
He had stopped asking creativity to justify itself immediately. He also stopped seeing his day job as a burden. Instead, he recognized it as something quietly supporting him. It provides income, flexibility, and emotional space while he experimented.
His bosses don’t watch the clock, and no one is measuring his output. He reclaimed some of that time by releasing pressure. None of which requires him to cut back on time at the day job that pays his bills and allows for this creative experimentation.
The bottleneck broke when he let go of the ultimatum that said an album only counted if it led somewhere specific.
The Exit Hatch Was Always There
When we’re inside a bottleneck, it feels like the walls closed in. We respond by tightening routines, forcing consistency, or doubling down on the same approach. But often, the exit was there all along. It’s just that it’s outside our field of view. Unspoken ultimatums narrow perception and awareness widens it.
Systems and routines aren’t neutral. They either amplify how you naturally operate or box you in. You don’t lose agency because you’re inconsistent. You lose it when pressure makes you believe there’s only one way forward.
And the moment you see that belief clearly, it starts to loosen.
An Invitation to Slow Down
Recognition is powerful, but recognition alone doesn’t change behavior. This kind of work lives in experience. In noticing how you respond to uncertainty before you override it.
If you’ve ever felt capable and inconsistent at the same time, this work will feel familiar. That’s exactly what we explore in How You Create is How You Lead. The interactive lab is designed to help you notice patterns clearly enough to move differently.
Sometimes the most strategic thing you can do is slow down, turn around, and realize the room is bigger than you thought.
And the choice to step through that exit is still yours.