“I tell myself to stop.” (And that never works.)

Don’t Stop—Redirect

“It’s so hard to stop lifting my elbow” is something I hear from swimmers all the time. So I ask, “What do you tell yourself when you notice you’re doing it?”

The answer is almost always the same: “I tell myself to stop.”

And there it is.

When my kids were little, I saw this play out daily. They’d be tapping, humming, banging—doing something that made me crazy—and I’d say, kindly, “Sweetie, please stop banging the table.” They’d pause… and then a minute later, the tapping would start again. Not to irritate me. Not because they weren’t listening. But because the moment I asked them not to do something, their attention got glued to the very thing I wanted to change.

What worked better was offering an alternative—something acceptable, something redirectable. And truly, the psychology isn’t any different for us as adults.

Last week, we talked about the power of awareness—how simply seeing a habit, without judgment, begins to shift it. Because once you see something clearly, you can’t unsee it. A habit you’ve ignored for years suddenly stands there, waiting. And this is where so many of us get stuck—between awareness and action.

I notice this in myself. When I’m stuck on a project, I drift toward food—not hungry, just… stuck. My first instinct? ‘Stop it.’ And predictably, that never works.

In swimming, we run into this exact moment of truth. Let’s say you notice your arm crossing your midline. First—celebrate the noticing. That’s huge.

Then get curious: do you feel how crossing over your midline sends your energy across your body rather than forward in your direction of travel?

The instinct is to tell yourself, “Stop crossing over.“

But here’s the thing: You can’t stop a habit by resisting it.

Resistance keeps your attention locked on the very thing you’re trying to change. It’s like trying not to think of a white bear—the harder you push against it, the bigger it gets.

So what now?

The way through is simpler than you’d think: Give your mind and body a new job. A new possibility. A new line to follow.

Instead of trying not to cross over, send your energy from your scapula through your fingernails. Instead of battling the urge to numb out with food, offer yourself a grounding moment. Not ‘stop that’—but ‘do this.’ Not resistance—but redirection.

Awareness gives you the truth.

Attention? That’s where choice lives.

And every tiny redirection, even the smallest one, is a powerful message to your nervous system: We’re doing something different now.

Not dramatic changes. Not overnight transformations. Just the next micro-adjustment that points your body—and your life—closer to where you actually want to go. This is the middle place. The place where change begins to take shape. The place where courage meets practice.

Now when I see my son “making music” with his stainless steel cup, I recommend that play on the piano or “make music” outside, and if he really wants to do it, he’s happy to oblige.

Next week: The Long Game — Because staying with it is the hardest part.

Shannon