We all know the routine: we conclude that something about our life needs to change. It might be purging our home of all the detritus that somehow made just "appeared." Maybe it's making better use of our time than checking in with whatever social media outlet has hypnotized us lately. And, of course, there is the quest for health, happiness—and being able to sit on an aluminum lawn chair without fear of it buckling under our weight—which many of us have followed for years. (Who am I kidding? Decades, not just years.) 

So, We assess what to do, how to do it, make a plan. High energy to implement our genius course of action. "Yes! I will be victorious. Nothing will deter me. Success, for sure this time!"

Every new dawn brings excitement for how we're progressing:

"I was brutal, throwing all those knickknacks in the donation box. Yay me!"

"What is a Kardashian up to recently? Don' ask me. I'm steering clear of all glowing screens. I have a life!"

"Who knew that laying off the carbs could be so effective at this fat-loss thing? Why didn't I do this sooner? I feel marvelous!"

Then it happens. An innocent trip to those cute little shops downtown, ostensibly to just window shop, turns into a retail relapse. We start filling the newly negative space we had just cleared with stuff, with items that have no function other than to catch dust. Perhaps it's a creeping fear that fascinating things are going on in the lives of people we know—or don't know well, or at all, or who have nothing to do with our lives—and back to scrolling through all manner of social media we go. So-called influencers have us charmed like a cobra and snake charmer team. We stare and stare—and perhaps start mouth-breathing a bit.

Or we decide that we feel so much better after having implemented the ketogenic protocol—losing weight, joint pain resolving, energy improved, people noticing—that we choose to—wait for it— have some carbs. Wha?? Why?

Honestly, I'm asking: why? I recorded a video on the topic some time ago, with a couple of personal thoughts on the matter. But, who knows? Self-sabotage is a puzzlement!

Do other species knowingly engage in behavior that is against their own best interests? Sure, a squirrel may end up on the losing side of an encounter with a car, but not because she had resolved to avoid running across streets until one day the idea of leaping into traffic seems like it would be fun.

No, we humans are the weirdos who realize something is bad for us, avoid that bad thing, and then later decide to return to the bad thing.

The reasons are as varied as our personalities and life experiences. While we might want to hone in on one explanation of why we often operate in this vexing manner, there are most likely many. And, ultimately, while figuring out the answers for our self-sabotage may be helpful, waiting for those answers might take years. What we need to do—regardless of the cause—is to stop the behavior that is undermining our success. We know what to do and what to stop doing. We have some autonomy over our actions, like it or not. And it may be that getting in front of activities contrary to helping us achieve our goals changes our habits overall. The more times we claim our strength, the easier it becomes to do so again. And the more we do something, the more likely we are to have just sprouted a new habit, a good habit. After all, habits can be the absence of activity as well as the engagement in one.

We can start now, this moment. Plant the idea that success is a good thing, nothing to be feared. Train our minds in advance to prepare for that moment when we need to confront temptation, repeat to ourselves that more than talking about a thing, we'll be the thing. We'll be true to our goals.

And it might not hurt to imagine how irritated we'd be if someone else were sabotaging us. Those who do such things are jerks. Let's not be jerks.

The mystery of why we do some things may remain just that: a mystery. Luckily we don't need to know the why to work on the how. That is, how to stop getting in our own way. We need to clear the path for the improved us, that person who is working so hard to get to the future— a new, improved future. 

We can. And we will.