When Nothing Clicks

I’ll be honest—I’ve been dragging the last few days. Ideas aren’t flowing, motivation feels flat, and nothing I pick up seems to click. Maybe you’ve had weeks like that too.

I’ve noticed a pattern: it often happens when I finally have space to slow down. When I’m busy and when things are pushing me forward, the energy has to be there. But when the pace eases, that’s when the quiet catches up with me. Sometimes it even brings a heaviness...thoughts that leave me feeling melancholy. I can’t explain why. It’s like I could cry for no reason at all. Do you know what I mean?

I’m not sharing this for sympathy. I’m sharing it because honesty matters. These are the moments that remind me to stay real - in my coaching and in my writing.

And maybe what I’m really describing is an in-between season. The kind of space where one part of life is fading and another hasn’t fully arrived yet. Summer is behind us, fall is just beginning. The air feels different, the light shifts, but it’s not fully one thing or the other. That’s how transitions often work in our lives too. They don’t announce themselves neatly. They just blur the edges between what was and what’s next.

In those times, I find myself doing the same self-talk I’d encourage anyone else to do: If I were coaching someone right now, what would I say to them? That question grounds me. It keeps me from slipping into cliches and pushes me to remember that motivation isn’t always easy, and it isn’t always instant.

Because it’s simple to cheer people on when you’re in a good space—when your own spark is bright. It’s harder when you’re low. But that’s where the deeper coaching comes in. Not in the quick fixes, but in the compassion that says: this is what the in-between feels like. Uncertain. Heavy. Not yet clear. And still—it’s part of the process.

And maybe that’s the gift of these dragging days. They remind us that in-between seasons are just as important as the bright, energized ones. They soften us. They make us better coaches, better friends, better humans—because we’ve lived the pauses, not just the progress.