Stop Kidding Yourself and Start Moving

I’m going to be honest and vulnerable right from the outset if that’s cool? I’m a master at kidding myself. Brilliant at it. Olympic-level self-deceivers when it comes to why I haven't pursued all my dreams. I've been there a long time while, you've probably been there too - we've all got a PhD in excuse-making at some point.

I read Simon Squibb's book What's Your Dream? whilst on holiday after a recommendation from someone on one of my digital bootcamps. I think his book captures this perfectly with his staircase of seven excuses. You know, those convenient little lies we tell ourselves that keep us exactly where we are - comfortable, unchallenged, and quietly frustrated. But here's the thing: recognising these excuses for what they are is the first step to telling them to sod off.

This isn't just another feel-good piece about chasing rainbows. It's about the strategy of getting out of your own way. Because that's what these excuses are - strategic failures of the self. They're the mental equivalent of shooting yourself in the foot and then complaining you can't run.

Squibb presents a staircase of seven excuses, each step representing a different barrier we construct. (His choice of a staircase is part of a much bigger story which you should definitely buy the book for!) We might be standing on any of these steps, or perhaps we hop between several. The higher up the staircase, the closer we are to action - but also the more subtle and insidious the excuses become. I want to climb this staircase like he says. And perhaps give those excuses the boot along the way.

Step 1: "I don't have time"

The granddaddy of all excuses. The universal get-out clause. As if Branson, Obama, and that mum down the road running three businesses have discovered the mythical 25th hour in the day.

We should unpack this classic bit of self-deception and look at what it really means for our strategic thinking. When we say "I don't have time", what we're actually saying is "This isn't a priority for me". And that's fine - if you're honest about it. Not everything can or should be a priority. But don't dress it up as a time issue when it's actually a choice issue.

“When you have a dream, and when you have identified a purpose, it changes your life. Everything starts to make sense because you are no longer playing by someone else’s rules. All the work you do is for a meaningful reason that makes it feel worthwhile. No more counting down the hours. No more having to force yourself out of bed in the mornings. No more working for the benefit of someone you will never meet. You have the only kind of motivation that matters – one you have instilled in yourself.” Simon Squibb

The brutal truth is that we all have the same 24 hours. What differs is how we allocate them. That allocation reveals our true priorities, not our stated ones. If you've spent three hours this week scrolling through social media but "don't have time" to work on your business idea, you've made your choice. Own it.

This is where strategy comes in. As I’ve said many times, strategic thinking isn't just for boardrooms and battlefield generals - it's for anyone who wants to make deliberate choices about their life. Strategy, at its core, is about resource allocation. And time is your most precious resource.

Here's a practical step I have been trying. Track your time for one week. Every hour, note what you've been doing. Be honest - no one's watching. At the end of the week, you'll have a clearer picture of where your time actually goes. It's often a rude awakening. You might discover you spend seven hours a week watching telly, or five hours in meetings that achieve precisely nothing. That's your untapped time bank right there.

Remember what the philosopher Seneca said: 

"It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it." Seneca

If your dream matters, carve out the time. Start small - even 30 minutes a day adds up to 182 hours a year. That's enough to write a book, launch a website, or learn a new skill. Jeremy Cornell-White talked about 1000 second bursts at a conference I was at earlier this year. We can find multiple of these in a day if we are being honest with ourselves, which is likely the broader issue at hand. 

Step 2: "I'm trapped"

The victim narrative is seductive, isn't it? "I would, but..." followed by a litany of circumstances that have conspired to keep you exactly where you are. Money, family, mortgage - the golden handcuffs we wear proudly while complaining they're too tight.

This excuse feels particularly potent because it's partially based in reality. We do have responsibilities. We do have constraints. But here's what the research actually tells us about constraints and creativity: they often go hand in hand.

In a famous study on creativity, psychologists gave one group unlimited materials to complete a task, while another group received limited resources. Counterintuitively, the group with constraints consistently produced more creative solutions. Why? Because constraints force us to think differently. They push us to find workarounds, to innovate, to question assumptions.

Your "trap" might actually be the very thing that leads to your unique approach. Would Adele's music be as powerful if she hadn't experienced heartbreak? Would Stephen Hawking have made the same contributions to physics without the constraints of his condition?

This isn't about toxic positivity or denying real challenges. It's about strategic reframing. Instead of seeing our constraints as walls, what if we saw them as boundaries of a playing field? You still have room to move, to play, to create - just within certain parameters.

J.K. Rowling has become the archetype of someone who broke these traps. A single mother on benefits, writing in cafés while her baby slept. Those weren't ideal circumstances, but they became part of her story. Her constraints didn't stop her; they shaped her journey. (Please, as I mention in the book, don't throw the baby out with the bathwater with J.K. Rowling if you disagree with her gender politics - she is still worth learning from even if you don't believe in many of her ideas!)

The strategic question isn't "How do I escape my trap?" but rather "How do I work with what I have?" It's about resourcefulness over resources. And sometimes, the first step is simply acknowledging that the door to your "trap" might not be as locked as you think.

Step 3: "I don't need it"

Ah, the pre-emptive sour grapes approach. Didn't want it anyway, did you? This particular form of self-deception is especially crafty because it masquerades as wisdom and contentment.

"I could start that business, but I'm actually happy in my job." "I could write that book, but the market is saturated anyway." "I could apply for that promotion, but it would mean more stress."

What philosopher Alain de Botton calls our ‘status anxiety’ often lurks behind this particular excuse. We preemptively reject things we fear we might not achieve, protecting our egos from the possibility of failure. It's a defensive strategy that feels like a rational choice.

“The attentions of others matter to us because we are afflicted by a congenital uncertainty as to our own value, as a result of which affliction we tend to allow others' appraisals to play a determining role in how we see ourselves. Our sense of identity is held captive by the judgments of those we live among.” Alain de Botton

That psychological principle we have circled back to on more than one occasion in these newsletters called cognitive dissonance is at play here. When our actions (not pursuing our dreams) conflict with our beliefs (wanting success or fulfillment), we experience mental discomfort. To resolve this, we often change our beliefs rather than our actions. Hence: "I don't need it".

But this strategic self-deception comes at a cost. Genuine contentment feels light and peaceful. False contentment feels heavy, with an undercurrent of resentment. If you catch yourself feeling envious when others achieve what you've claimed not to want, that's your clue.

This isn't to say you must pursue every possible dream. There's wisdom in deliberately choosing what not to pursue. But make that choice consciously, not as a defensive mechanism.  Squibb talks about this before he ever talks about barriers. His thoughts about dreams are based on 3 questions. 

The strategic approach here is honesty. Ask yourself: "If I were guaranteed success, would I want this?" If the answer is yes, then your "I don't need it" might be fear in disguise. If the answer is genuinely no, then you've made a legitimate choice about your priorities.

Remember, no one on their deathbed ever said, "I wish I'd spent more time pretending I didn't want things". They typically regret not having the courage to pursue what they truly desired.

Step 4 & 5: "I don't know what/how"

I’ve lumped these next two together. The twin pillars of information avoidance. In an age where you can learn quantum physics on YouTube, these excuses are looking increasingly threadbare.

"I don't know what" often masks a deeper issue: fear of commitment. By claiming confusion about direction, we avoid having to commit to a path. It's the equivalent of standing in a buffet line forever, claiming you can't decide what to eat, when really you're afraid of making the wrong choice.

As for "I don't know how" - this is perhaps the weakest excuse in today's world. We're living in the greatest information age in human history. Whatever you want to learn, someone has created a guide, a course, a video, or a book about it. The real issue here isn't knowledge - it's fear cleverly disguised as knowledge gaps. It might also be that we haven’t fully leveraged our networks. I’ll be looking at that in a future newsletter. 

This reminds me of what psychologist Ellen Langer calls "premature cognitive commitment" - the tendency to lock onto limitations without questioning them. We decide we "can't" before we've genuinely explored whether we can.

The strategic flaw in both these excuses is that they position ignorance as a destination rather than a starting point. Not knowing is where everyone begins. The difference between those who achieve their dreams and those who don't isn't starting knowledge - it's what they do about not knowing.

Innocent Smoothies founders Richard Reed, Adam Balon and Jon Wright didn't know how to run a drinks company when they started. They bought £500 worth of fruit, made smoothies, and sold them at a music festival with a sign asking customers if they should quit their jobs to do this full time. That was their market research. They didn't wait until they had an MBA in beverage distribution.

Your strategy shouldn't be to eliminate all unknowns before starting. That's impossible. Instead, adopt what entrepreneur Eric Ries calls the "build-measure-learn" loop. Start with what you know, take a small step, measure the results, learn from them, and repeat.

“This is one of the most important lessons of the scientific method: if you cannot fail, you cannot learn.” Eric Ries

Not knowing what? Pick something that interests you and try it. Not knowing how? Find one person who's done it and learn from them. The internet has made mentors accessible in ways previous generations couldn't imagine.

The most dangerous knowledge isn't what you don't know - it's what you think you know that isn't so. Embrace not knowing as the first step to discovery, not the last word on possibility.

Step 6: "I'm worried what they'll think"

At some point, we need to have a frank chat about why you're giving random people free rent in your head. Your Auntie Karen’s opinion on your business venture carries exactly the weight you choose to give it. Oh and that goes for your old boss, your ex-wife and the chair of the PTA from the kids’ school. 

This excuse is particularly potent because humans are inherently social creatures. We evolved in tribes where rejection could be a death sentence. That survival instinct still runs deep, making social disapproval feel genuinely threatening. But we're not living in small hunter-gatherer groups anymore, and being judged by your colleagues won't lead to actual banishment (usually).

There's also what psychologists call the ‘spotlight effect’ - our tendency to overestimate how much attention others are paying to our appearance and behaviour. The brutal truth is that most people are too wrapped up in their own concerns to give your choices more than a passing thought.

Those who do judge you harshly often do so from their own place of fear or projection. Their criticism says more about them than about you. As the saying goes, "Those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind".

Strategically, this excuse fails because it outsources your decision-making to others, most of whom don't have to live with the consequences of your choices. Would you let someone who doesn't know your financial situation decide your budget? Of course not (or I’d hope not!). So why let people who don't know your dreams decide if they're worth pursuing?

The antidote isn't developing a thick skin overnight. It's about building a support network of people who genuinely understand your vision. Find your cheerleaders, your critical friends, your mentors - people whose opinions come from a place of wanting you to succeed, not from their own insecurities.

Remember what Theodore Roosevelt said: 

"It is not the critic who counts...The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena." Theodore Roosevelt

The arena is where life happens. Don't watch from the stands because you're worried about the spectators.

Step 7: "I've tried before"

One attempt and you're packing it in? That's not a strategy; that's a tantrum. History is littered with the initial failures of eventual successes. James Dyson and his 5,126 vacuum prototypes would like a word. But if I’m honest again, this is the one I find myself thinking and/or saying a lot. 

This excuse masquerades as wisdom - "I'm learning from experience" - when it's often just impatience in disguise. Most worthwhile achievements require multiple attempts, iterations, and failures. Expecting success on the first try isn't just unrealistic; it's strategically naïve.

Thomas Edison allegedly said, "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work." Whether he actually said it is beside the point; the principle is sound. Each attempt teaches you something if you're paying attention. The psychological principle at play here is what Carol Dweck calls the "fixed mindset" versus the "growth mindset" (yes, I've talked about this so many times before, but it bears repeating). A fixed mindset sees failure as definitive - proof of inherent limitations. A growth mindset sees failure as informative - data to be used for the next attempt.

Strategically, "I've tried before" fails because it treats past results as perfect predictors of future outcomes. This ignores countless variables: you've gained experience, circumstances change, and approaches can be refined. The you attempting something for the second or third time is not the same you who first tried.

We could hark back to J.K. Rowling but let’s look at author Andy Weir. Before The Martian became a bestseller and hit film, he was a struggling writer whose earlier work had been rejected by publishers. Had he said, "I've tried before" and given up, we'd never have experienced Mark Watney's story of survival on Mars.  It’s too easy to think that everyone else is an overnight success but you’ve been at it more than one night.

The strategic approach to past failures isn't to avoid that territory altogether, but to conduct a proper post-mortem. What specifically went wrong? What went right? What variables have changed? What would you do differently?

Past failure isn't a wall; it's a foundation. Each attempt lays groundwork for the next, providing you're willing to learn rather than merely repeat.

Getting Your Backside in Gear

Right, enough philosophising. Let's talk brass tacks. Here's how you actually climb this staircase of excuses without falling on your face:

1. Identify your current excuse position. Which step are you standing on right now? Be honest with yourself. You might be hovering between several steps, but there's usually one that resonates most strongly.

2. Create a personal rebuttal. Once you've identified your primary excuse, write down a specific counter-argument that applies to your situation. Not a generic motivational quote, but a tailored response that addresses your particular circumstances.

‍3. Design one concrete action. For each excuse, there's a corresponding action that directly challenges it. No time? Block 30 minutes daily in your calendar for your dream project. Worried what others will think? Share your idea with one supportive person. Make this action small enough to be doable but significant enough to feel meaningful.

4. Build accountability. Tell someone what you're going to do. Better yet, find an "accountability buddy" who's also working on their own dream. Regular check-ins can work wonders for maintaining momentum. Squibb talks about this a lot. 

5. Create a failure protocol. Decide in advance how you'll respond when (not if) you face setbacks. Having a predetermined plan for failure makes you more resilient when it inevitably occurs. This is one of the best things I’ve written, I think. Failure is inevitable unless you sit on the couch. Plan for what you’ll do. 

6. Celebrate small wins. Our brains are wired to respond to rewards. Acknowledge and celebrate progress, no matter how incremental. This builds the motivation to continue.

7. Review and adapt regularly. Set a calendar reminder for a monthly review of your progress. What's working? What isn't? Which excuse is trying to creep back in? Adjust your approach accordingly.

This isn't about perfection; it's about progress. You don't need to demolish all seven excuses overnight. Start with the one that's most holding you back right now. As James Clear puts it in Atomic Habits, small improvements compound over time. A 1% improvement daily leads to being nearly 38 times better over a year.

The most important step is the next one. Not some grand gesture six months from now, but the small action you can take today, in spite of your excuses.

“Habits are the compound interest of self-improvement. The same way that money multiplies through compound interest, the effects of your habits multiply as you repeat them. They seem to make little difference on any given day and yet the impact they deliver over the months and years can be enormous. It is only when looking back two, five, or perhaps ten years later that the value of good habits and the cost of bad ones becomes strikingly apparent.” James Clear

Dreams without strategy are just pleasant bedtime stories. Strategy without action is just intellectual masturbation. Bringing these together requires facing these seven steps honestly, acknowledging the excuses we've crafted, and deciding that our dreams deserve better than our most creative justifications for inaction.

Simon Squibb's staircase isn't just a diagnostic tool; it's a roadmap. Each step we climb represents another layer of self-deception stripped away, another move toward authentic action.

The question isn't whether you have excuses – we all do. The question is whether you'll let them define your story. Will you be the person who "would have, could have, should have," or the person who did?

As you contemplate your next move, remember that these excuses haven't emerged to protect you from failure. They've emerged to protect you from trying. But trying, with all its messiness and uncertainty, is where life actually happens.

So, which step are you standing on today? And more importantly, what are you going to do about it?