There is something I hear often when I speak with women, and I used to have a very strong reaction to it.
It can’t be that simple.
For a long time, a part of me wanted to push back immediately. Because in many cases, the next step really is simple. Not glamorous, not hidden, not particularly original, but simple in the most grounded sense of the word.
Drink more water. Get more rest. Say no when something isn’t right. Have the conversation you’ve been avoiding. Move your body. Send the message. Ask for help. Stop pretending you don’t already know.
There is a kind of honesty in those actions that is almost intimate, almost exposing. They bring you back into direct relationship with yourself. They don’t require a breakthrough. They don’t require a new identity. They don’t even require a particularly good mood. They just require a form of willingness that we don’t always have. And consistency.
So yes, sometimes things are simple.
And yet, over time, I’ve come to see that this is only half of the truth.
Because life itself is not simple.
Not in the way we like to pretend it should be.
A habit is never just a habit. It is shaped by your environment, by what you’ve learned over time, by what feels safe or unsafe in your body, by the rhythms you’ve been living in, by what is expected of you, and by what you have had to carry, consciously or not.
The same is true for decisions, for relationships, for the way you show up in your work, for the way you relate to your own needs. There are layers everywhere, and most of them are not immediately visible when you look at a situation from the outside.
This is where things start to get tangled.
Because when a simple action doesn’t “work,” the reflex is almost always the same. We turn it inward.
I should be able to do this.
Why is this still hard?
What am I missing?
And very quickly, that becomes a quiet form of self-betrayal.
Not always dramatic, not always loud, but present enough to create a subtle distance in the way we relate to ourselves. We try harder. We push more. We repeat the same attempt with a little more force, hoping that this time it will stick.
But if the system we are moving within is complex, pushing harder on a single point rarely changes anything in a lasting way.
It just creates more tension.
What I find more useful now is to pause at that exact moment where frustration begins, and allow a different quality of attention to enter the space.
Not “why can’t I do this,” but “what is actually going on here.”
It sounds simple, but it opens a very different kind of space.
Because when you start to look a little wider, you often see things that were not obvious at first.
You might notice that what you are trying to change is supported by your environment in ways you hadn’t fully acknowledged. That certain patterns are reinforced by the people around you, or by the structure of your days, or by the expectations you have internalized over time.
You might realize that what you are asking of yourself is technically possible, but not particularly realistic given the state of your energy, your nervous system, or your current life conditions.
You might also see that some parts of the situation are simply not yours to change. Other people’s reactions, certain constraints, past choices that have shaped the present in ways you cannot immediately undo.
Trying to control those parts is exhausting, and often fruitless.
At the same time, there are always elements that are yours.
Your actions, even small ones.
Your boundaries, even imperfect ones.
Your pace, even if it looks different from what you thought it “should” be.
Your willingness to stay honest with yourself about what is actually happening instead of what you think should be happening.
When you begin to distinguish between what is yours and what is not, something softens.
Not dramatically, but enough.
You stop trying to solve everything at once. You stop carrying what was never yours to carry. And the situation, while still complex, becomes a little more workable.
This is usually where the simple steps reappear, but in a different way.
Not as instructions you should have followed all along, but as actions that now make sense within the reality you are actually living.
The difference is subtle, but important.
It’s the difference between forcing yourself to follow a rule and moving in a direction that feels aligned with what is true for you.
I think this is where many of us get lost.
We are either trying to reduce everything to something simple and actionable, ignoring the depth of what is really happening, or we are so aware of the complexity that we stop moving altogether.
Neither of those extremes is particularly helpful.
What seems to work better is the ability to hold both at once.
To recognize that yes, the next step might be very simple. And also to acknowledge that you are not operating in a vacuum, that your life has layers, and that those layers deserve to be seen rather than dismissed.
There is a form of self-respect in that.
And also a form of responsibility.
Because once you see more clearly, it becomes harder to hide behind either side. You can’t pretend everything is too complicated to act, and you can’t pretend it should all be easy either.
You meet yourself somewhere in the middle.
And from there, things tend to move in a way that is quieter, but more sustainable.
Not because you’ve found the perfect solution, but because you are no longer fighting yourself in the process.
That, for me, changes everything.
If you find yourself in that space, where things feel both simple and strangely out of reach at the same time, it might not be a matter of doing more, but of giving yourself a different kind of space to see, to feel, and to meet what is actually there.
This is part of what we open inside Living a Goddess Life: Initiation.
A few days, in nature, in a small circle, where the pace shifts, the noise quiets, and things begin to untangle in a more honest way.
Not by forcing answers, but by allowing clarity to emerge.
If that resonates, you can explore it here:
https://isayabelle.com/lagl.initiation
If you know a sister, a friend, a fellow Goddess on the path who might need this too, feel free to share this article with her.
In sisterhood and truth,
Isaya