Escape the Try Trap: Half-Hearted Efforts' Hidden Costs

A single word slips into our daily conversations fifteen to twenty times, yet few of us pause to consider its profound impact on our behavior and results. Try. We rely on it because it feels sensible and prudent. Phrases like 'I'll try to deliver that by Friday,' 'I'm trying to be more deliberate

A single word slips into our daily conversations fifteen to twenty times, yet few of us pause to consider its profound impact on our behavior and results.

Try.

We rely on it because it feels sensible and prudent. Phrases like 'I'll try to deliver that by Friday,' 'I'm trying to be more deliberate with my morning routine,' or 'We should try to meet up sometime' suggest dedication without guaranteeing success. This vagueness, however, reveals the core issue at hand.

During my discussion with Carla Ondrasik — a former Vice President at EMI Music Publishing, renowned motivational speaker, and author of Stop Trying — she shared an insight that seems straightforward at first but grows more compelling upon reflection: trying exists solely in the mind, while doing demands physical action. No tangible behavior aligns with the act of trying. For instance, you either touch your nose or you don't. Attempting to do so instantly transitions into the act itself; halting means you've ceased.

This distinction goes beyond mere semantics. It exposes how much of our so-called effort is little more than mental simulation — the sensation of progress cloaked in action-oriented language, yet devoid of any real execution.

The Invisible Safety Mechanism of Trying

One rarely scrutinized effect of using 'try' is how it provides an automatic excuse mechanism. If I promise to 'try' meeting you at nine o'clock and arrive at nine-thirty instead, I've already armed myself with a justification before even choosing to delay. The term pre-emptively supplies the alibi: I tried, but the coffee shop queue was endless, or perhaps I misremembered the time as ten. Trying doesn't merely permit rationalizations; it systematically constructs them, creating an easy exit strategy long before you opt to use it.

Contrast this with a firm commitment: I will arrive at nine. Suddenly, no such loophole exists. Reality boils down to presence or absence, success or failure. True accountability thrives precisely in that unfiltered space between intention and outcome.

Carla emphasizes that trying bears little connection to genuine resolve. When the importance of a task escalates — when consequences loom large and opportunities feel tangible — the word 'try' simply vanishes. People either fully engage or abstain entirely. Authentic stakes render half-measures obsolete.

The Neurochemical Snare of Trying

Adding to the challenge is a biological dimension that makes breaking free from the try trap particularly arduous. Merely verbalizing your intention to try something triggers a surge of dopamine, serotonin, and adrenaline. Your brain dispenses these feel-good chemicals not upon completion, but right at the moment of declaration. Consequently, the individual who chatters endlessly at social gatherings about 'trying to write a screenplay' for years isn't merely delaying; they're reaping tangible brain rewards from recounting the aspiration. The actual creation of the screenplay fades into irrelevance.

This phenomenon also explains why broadcasting your goals prematurely can sabotage your progress. The premature hit of satisfaction saps your drive, leaving the objective in the realm of abstraction. Carla recommends restraint — maintaining silence until substantial work is complete — not as a veil of mystery, but as a strategy to channel all that drive internally, directly fueling the effort required for real results.

Embracing Definitive Choices Over Vague Attempts

Living without 'try' demands a level of discomfort that surpasses initial expectations. It requires rendering clear-cut decisions rather than ambiguous ones. Instead of 'I'll try to improve my health,' opt for 'I'm overhauling my diet beginning Monday' or 'I'm choosing not to pursue that now, and I'm content with the decision.' Both options embody truthfulness, though society often favors the evasive former.

This principle resonates deeply with my explorations in TimeCrafting, particularly the divide between mere productivity and authentic productivity. The former resembles a show — perpetual busyness, experiments in motion, and juggling endless tasks. The latter represents a deeper alignment: an truthful rapport with your aspirations, focusing solely on what you truly intend to accomplish and executing just that.

Trying clutters your schedule. Doing enriches your existence.

Carla issues a practical challenge worth accepting: select one modest endeavor you've been 'trying' to tackle, and either complete it today or release it completely. This isn't because minor tasks hold ultimate significance, but because mastering small completions forges the habit that unlocks greater achievements. Think of clearing out that cluttered drawer, assembling the bag for charity donations, or finally scheduling that long-overdue appointment. Finishing one item entirely imparts a lesson to your mind that endless trying never could: you are a person who follows through on promises.

This shift cultivates an identity far removed from the tentative self most people carry. And it's within reach the instant you abandon the pursuit of half-hearted attempts.