Laziness is a lie
What’s Actually Blocking You from Taking Action
There’s a version of me that used to label myself as lazy.
I’d wake up with good intentions—ideas, goals, a vision of who I wanted to become—but somehow, I’d end the day without taking action.
It wasn’t for lack of knowledge. I had the books, the podcasts, the frameworks.
It wasn’t that I didn’t care. I desperately wanted to create something meaningful.
And yet, I couldn’t get myself to do the work.
I thought:
“I must not want it bad enough.”
“I’m just not disciplined.”
“There’s something wrong with me.”
So I tried to fix it with pressure.
Routines. Systems. Shame.
But the more I pushed, the more I shut down.
Eventually, I realized something that changed everything:
Laziness isn’t the problem.
It’s the name we give to a system that’s in freeze.
The Lie of Laziness
Laziness is a cultural myth.
It assumes people choose to underperform.
But in my experience coaching hundreds of high performers, the people who call themselves “lazy” are often the most self-aware, driven, and deeply caring people I know.
They’re not lazy. They’re stuck.
And they’re stuck for a reason.
The nervous system doesn’t just stop moving for fun.
It stops when it perceives threat.
Not physical danger—but emotional risk:
The risk of failing and feeling shame
The risk of showing up imperfectly and being judged
The risk of not being “enough” and being rejected
So the system freezes.
Not out of weakness. Out of protection.
What We Can Learn from Trees
Carl Rogers called it the actualizing tendency: a natural drive in all organisms to grow toward their full potential—when the conditions are safe.
Nietzsche called it the Will to Power: the core instinct of all life to expand and express.
Even a tree will grow as tall as its environment allows.
It would be absurd to look at a stunted tree and say,
“Wow, what a lazy tree. Why doesn’t it just grow?”
You’d ask:
“What blocked the light? What depleted the soil?”
Humans are no different.
This Is Not a Discipline Problem
When people feel stuck, they usually double down on systems and willpower.
And sometimes that works—until it doesn’t.
Because this isn’t about getting more done.
It’s about why you aren’t moving in the first place.
It’s not a productivity problem. It’s a safety problem.
And you can’t shame your nervous system into motion.
If your internal environment is filled with pressure, judgment, and self-criticism, your system is going to stay frozen. That’s not laziness. That’s wisdom.
Growth isn’t something you force.
It’s something you allow.
It’s what happens when you feel safe enough to try, fail, and keep going.
So What Do You Do Instead?
You stop calling yourself lazy.
You get curious instead.
You ask:
What am I afraid will happen if I take action?
What part of me doesn’t feel safe to be seen, messy, or imperfect?
What does that part of me need in order to feel supported?
When I finally looked inward, I met a younger version of myself who had been punished—not for being lazy, but for being wrong. For not knowing the answer. For being vulnerable.
He didn’t need to be forced into discipline.
He needed to know I wasn’t going to leave him behind when he failed.
And when I gave him that—love, warmth, and belonging without condition—my resistance melted. Action returned.
The Life Force Principle
Here’s what I believe now:
You were built to grow.
If you’re not growing, something doesn’t feel safe.
That’s not weakness. That’s intelligence.
Your system is always trying to protect you—even if it looks like self-sabotage.
The question isn’t “How do I push harder?”
It’s “What needs to be softened, healed, or witnessed so I can move again?”
Because when the internal pressure drops, energy returns.
When the soil is rich, life force flows.
You’re not lazy. You’re a tree waiting for spring.
