A common phrase I’ve heard in my years of counseling is, “Well, I fell off the wagon.” Maybe that’s not the phrase you use. Maybe it sounds more like, Why do I keep falling into the same patterns? or How can I know better but still do the same thing? Or maybe you don’t say anything at all—but you’ve felt it.
I’ll start with this: How human is that? How normal is it to learn something new, start practicing it differently, and then feel like you’ve lost it?
Today, I’ll share some personal insights that have evolved over the years—and more recently, through my silent retreat, my work with my life coach, and the coaching program I’m currently in. These realizations have reshaped how I think about what it actually means to “mess up.”
The Real Source of Suffering
The moment we think, I messed up again, is a signal that suffering is present—and more often than not, that suffering comes from our thoughts. It’s fascinating (and almost too simple) to recognize how much of our suffering is created by thought alone. But try it out—most of the time, when you’re struggling, you’re actually okay in the present moment.
Here’s a simple example. The other day, I was at the dog park, throwing a ball for my dog.
Out of nowhere, a thought popped into my head about an upcoming work project I was feeling anxious about. I got caught up in that worry for a moment before realizing—that’s in the future; it’s not happening right now. Right now, I’m okay. Actually, I’m more than okay—I’m outside, it’s a beautiful day, and I’m playing with my dog.
I often encourage my clients to explore this by asking, Right now, in your direct experience, can you actually find the “falling off the wagon” moment? Not the memory of it. Not the worry about it. But in this exact moment—where is it?
It’s not here. It’s just a thought.
That doesn’t mean habits or patterns aren’t worth addressing. If someone binges on alcohol or ice cream and wants to change that, that’s valid. But the suffering doesn’t come from the act itself—it comes from the judgment about it.
Could it be that the suffering comes from how our mind frames it? Plenty of people drink more than they planned or eat more than they intended, and it’s not a problem for them. They don’t get stuck in their heads, overanalyzing it. It just happened, and then it’s over.
The real problem arises when the mind starts chewing on it: Why did I do that? I have no self-control. I’m an emotional eater.
These thought patterns—the ones that label you as having fallen off the wagon or not getting it right—become a story you start believing.
The “Rules” We Set for Ourselves
Maybe your next question is: Yes, but doing this repeatedly isn’t healthy, right? And sure, if something is disrupting your life, it makes sense to address it. But before jumping into change, let’s look at how we tend to approach it.
When I was trying to stop drinking, I set all kinds of rules. No drinking during the week. Only two drinks when out. No pre-drinking before events. And yet, I’d often find myself drinking while getting ready or having a drink on the way to the event. Why? Because I’m an introvert, and even if I was excited for the event, I felt some kind of uncomfortable energy—maybe nervousness, awkwardness, or anticipation. At some point, I learned that a drink helped ease that feeling. My brain made the connection: This makes me feel better. And so a pattern was born.
We do this all the time. When we feel something uncomfortable, we look for a way out of it. We check our phones, eat a snack, change the subject. The brain loves a quick fix.
But here’s the thing: the feeling itself isn’t actually dangerous. Now that I don’t drink to quiet the anxious energy before an event, I just let it be. I don’t try to change it or push it away—I simply notice it and trust that it won’t last forever. Feeling the feeling is the way through. And I’ve noticed—and so have my clients—that when we stop resisting, the feelings tend to lessen with time.
There is no promise of when they get better. But if they are felt versus, as change coach Amy Johnson says, covered with a big “no blanket,” they have room to move out instead of getting stuck under the blanket with you.
The “Wagon” Is the Problem
So when someone says they’ve “fallen off the wagon,” I ask: What does being ON the wagon mean to you? Because last I checked, anything you get on, you eventually have to get off. That’s just how it works. Expansion and contraction. Yin and yang. It’s why all diets fail—because they set you up to believe you’re “on” something, which means, inevitably, you’ll be “off.”
If someone believes they’ve fallen off the wagon, it clues me in that they think success means doing X, Y, and Z perfectly and consistently. That’s a setup for feeling like a failure.
You Are Not Your Thoughts
A big part of this struggle is that we believe every thought that pops into our heads. But do you control your thoughts? Try predicting your next thought. You can’t. They just show up—like an autoplaying playlist in your brain. And here’s the thing: You are not your thoughts.
These thoughts—telling you that you aren’t eating right, you should exercise more, you’ve messed up again—aren’t yours. They were programmed into your brain from childhood. They mean well; they’re just trying to keep you safe. But this inner narrator is often bossy, relentless, and often inaccurate.
What If You Took It Lightly?
So if you find yourself wondering, Why do I keep making the same mistakes?—can you take it lightly? Can you recognize that it’s just a thought? A conditioned belief, not the truth of who you are?
And if the way you’re trying to change something feels hard, restrictive, or trapped —maybe that’s your sign that this so-called “wagon” is going in the wrong direction. Hop off. Find a different way that feels more empowering and sustainable. Change doesn’t have to feel like punishment.
What if there was never a wagon to begin with?