People are willing to pay a lot for change.
They pour their time, heart and money into projects that promise change. Courses. Programs. Coaches. Books. Retreats. Systems that claim to accelerate what feels overdue. They seek advice. They seek shortcuts. They look for certainty where none exists.
But no real change occurs.
Because most of what they invest in is not change itself. It is the feeling of movement without the risk of movement.
The comfort of preparation. The illusion of progress.
They spend their lives pondering, worrying, planning. They watch guides. They try frameworks. They refine intentions. They become extremely sophisticated at thinking about change. Almost professional at it. And still nothing actually shifts.
Real change rarely requires more information. It requires true desire.
It requires losing something you already have. A routine. An identity. A relationship. An expectation others have of you. Sometimes even the story you tell yourself about who you are.
Humans hate this.
We are profoundly loss averse creatures. We will tolerate years of quiet dissatisfaction to avoid a moment of visible loss. Many would rather cling to an utterly mediocre life than to step into unknown territory where improvement is possible but not guaranteed.
Familiar discomfort feels safer than unfamiliar possibility.
So people circle the idea of change. They talk about it. They fantasize about it. They collect tools for it.
But they never pay the price.
Your current life is the exact price of the life you say you want. It is not separate from it. And if you are not willing to let go of that price, you are quietly choosing the status quo.
Most are unwilling to pay. Not because they lack desire, but because they underestimate cost. They assume change can be layered on top of their existing life. That they can add transformation without removing comfort. Add ambition without dropping convenience. Add clarity without enduring temporary confusion.
It rarely works that way.
Every meaningful shift closes certain doors. Every honest decision eliminates alternatives. Every step forward burns a small bridge behind you. That is not tragedy. That is commitment. Yet commitment is exactly what most people avoid. They want improvement without disruption. Growth without grief. A new chapter without ending the previous one.
So they stall.
And while they spend enormous time thinking about what they lack and what they want, they forget to ask what those things cost. They talk endlessly about goals but rarely about tradeoffs. They admire outcomes but rarely the sacrifices underneath them. They want visible rewards without the invisible losses.
But change always collects payment in advance. Time you can no longer spend elsewhere. Certainty you must temporarily surrender. Sometimes reputation. Sometimes belonging. Sometimes the approval you have grown used to.
This is where many opt out.
Because the fantasy of change is enjoyable. The logistics of change are not. It is pleasant to imagine a different life. Less pleasant to dismantle the current one piece by piece. So instead people maintain. They optimize the existing structure. They decorate it. They distract themselves inside it.
And they call that progress.
If you are honest, you often already know what needs to change. It is rarely mysterious. You know what drains you. You know what you have outgrown. You know which compromises were supposed to be temporary.
You do not lack information.
You lack willingness to release.
You do not lack options.
You lack readiness to pay.
Once you see the price clearly, you can no longer pretend change is just about motivation or technique. It becomes a decision.
Are you willing to exchange this life for another one?
Change requires loss. It requires endings. It requires the sort of courage that feels less like excitement and more like acceptance. You do not get everything. You choose.
Whatever you refuse to release, you are choosing to keep. Whether you admit it or not.
Sincerely,
Milo Morrison