Last week, we talked about urgency — not the kind that comes from fear or panic, but the kind we choose.

It was my most-read newsletter so far, and from the conversations I’ve had with those who reached out, one theme that kept coming up was the struggle to create a genuine sense of urgency.

But as I reflected on these conversations, I realised something deeper.

It’s not just that we struggle to create urgency. It’s that somewhere along the line, many of us have become numb to the signals, emotions and events that (normally) would’ve kicked us into action.

Yet, instead of taking action, we look away. We distract ourselves. We tell ourselves it’s temporary. That next time, we’ll do things differently. But we don’t. One exception turns into a pattern. A pattern turns into your character. And before you know it, you’ve become the person who only acts when your back is against the wall, when time runs out, when the stakes are high, or when you’re about to lose someone you love.

But the real challenge (and opportunity!) lies in all the moments before that.

Perhaps right now, as you read this.

These are the moments where nothing is technically wrong or breaking down, but when you know that — deep down — you’re abandoning your intuition, values, standards, potential, or dreams.

We don’t just wake up one day and decide to lower our expectations for ourselves and our lives. It happens gradually. The way we work, the way we show up, the way we carry ourselves and others, the way we honour our values and aspirations — they shift so subtly that we don’t even notice.

We push a deadline, telling ourselves it’s just this once.

We let a boundary slide because it’s easier than addressing the discomfort.

We skip a workout here and there, promising ourselves we’ll make up for it.

We put off a difficult but necessary decision, convincing ourselves that it’s not the right time.

Each choice seems insignificant. A small compromise, an exception, a slight delay.

Until, one day, they aren’t insignificant anymore.

What was once a temporary exception becomes the norm. The standards you once lived by — or aspired to live by — start to feel foreign or even excessive. Without realising, you are drifting further and further away from the life you envisioned, the person you know you can be, and the goals you once committed to.

This is what Daniel Pauly calls Shifting Baseline Syndrome — originally used to describe how, over time, we normalise environmental decline because we compare it only to what we personally remember, not to what once was.

The same thing happens with our personal standards. We don’t notice the shift because it happens in increments until, one day, we look back and realise we’ve accepted lower and lower baselines and settled for a life that no longer reflects who we set out to be.

And here’s where it gets dangerous.

Because once we’ve adjusted to a lower baseline, we don’t just accept it — we justify it.

Psychologists call this motivated reasoning — our (somewhat!) remarkable ability to create a narrative that supports the choices we’ve already made, rather than facing the discomfort of what’s actually happening. And what will happen as a result.

Combine the two, and you will find yourself in a vicious cycle that’s hard to break out of.

Each decline spawns a new story.

Each story makes the decline feel normal.

And with every turn of this cycle, we drift further from our values, our potential, our goals and our destiny.

And because these stories feel reasonable (and are often reinforced by our environment!), we rarely question them. Instead of seeing where we’ve slipped, we convince ourselves (and others!) that we’re in a better place than we actually are.

Until something happens that forces you to see reality for what it really is.

The health scare, the business fallout, the relationship breakdown — the moment when avoidance is no longer an option, and you are forced to deal with the reality of your choices. Also called the inescapability trigger, a term coined by behavioural psychologist Dr. Daniel Gilbert.

And by the time you reach this point, the cost of change is far greater than it would have been if you had acted earlier.

Instead of making small adjustments, you must undo months or years of drift,

Instead of regaining momentum, you’re scrambling to pull yourself out of stagnation.

Instead of course-correcting with ease, you’re now paying the price of avoidance.

Look at your life right now. Really look.

Where have you been telling yourself a story to justify inaction?

What have you been convincing yourself is “fine” when, deep down, you know it’s not?

What small compromises have started stacking up?

And more importantly — do you even know what you’re measuring those compromises against?

We often speak of values as if they’re abstract concepts, distant ideals that sound good in conversation but fade in the face of daily choices. But true values aren’t philosophical discussions — they are the commitments that define how we live. They are the standards we hold, the boundaries we enforce, and the decisions we don’t hesitate to make.

They’re the standards that, when violated, fracture our integrity. The principles that, when honoured, fill you with unshakeable certainty.

If you can’t name your values with crystal clarity and if you don’t know how to live by them. If you don’t feel it in your bones when you betray what is right, true, and important, then what you have aren’t values. They’re preferences. And preferences don’t build strong people.

Preferences shift when things get uncomfortable.

Preferences disappear when pressure is applied.

Preferences make your standards conditional — something you follow when it’s convenient, rather than something you hold firm when it matters.

Values, on the other hand, are commitments.

They are the flag you plant for the person you choose to become.

The lines you refuse to cross.

The decisions you don’t hesitate to make, because they define who you are.

If that’s clear, then urgency takes care of itself.

Because when something truly matters, you don’t wait.

You act.

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