Why Do I Feel the Need to Do Something?

I’ve always been a bit of a problem solver.

Give me a problem and I’ll probably start looking for a solution before you’ve finished explaining it.

It’s a quality that has served me well over the years. It has helped me build things, create opportunities, and find my way through difficult situations.

But lately, I’ve been wondering whether my enthusiasm for solving problems sometimes gets ahead of me.

Not every problem needs an immediate solution.

And perhaps not every uncomfortable situation is a problem in the first place.

That’s an interesting thought for someone who likes to get things done!

A few days ago, I took a day trip to Ise, somewhere I’d wanted to visit for quite some time.

Five hours on a train each way. Quite a journey for a day out!

But I enjoyed it. Walking around the shrine, taking in the atmosphere, eating one of my favourite street foods, and simply being somewhere different for a while.

The train journey also gave me something I don’t always make enough room for.

Time to think.

I found myself revisiting some of my values, asking questions, playing with ideas, and reflecting on the direction my life is taking.

Not because something was wrong.

Not because I had a decision to make.

Simply because I had the time and space to be curious.

And somewhere along the journey, a question came to mind.

Why do I feel the need to do something?

I realised that when something feels unresolved, my natural response is to act.

Find an answer. Make a plan. Fix it. Move forward.

There is nothing particularly wrong with that. Quite the opposite. Taking action has often been useful, sometimes even necessary.

But I wonder how often I act because something genuinely needs my attention, and how often I act because I’m uncomfortable leaving it alone.

Perhaps that’s where discernment comes in.

Not necessarily knowing the right thing to do, but being attentive enough to recognise what a situation actually needs.

Sometimes that means stepping in.

Sometimes offering a little guidance.

Sometimes asking another question.

And sometimes doing absolutely nothing, at least for now.

I see this in my teaching too.

There are moments when a student needs guidance, a correction, or a little encouragement.

And others when my intervention might interrupt something they are discovering for themselves.

Knowing the difference isn’t always easy.

Even with years of experience, I don’t always get it right.

And perhaps that’s part of the practice too. Paying attention, making a choice, observing what happens, and being willing to adjust.

I suppose being helpful is something I've always valued.

But I'm beginning to realise that being helpful doesn't always mean doing something.

Sometimes it means listening.

Sometimes trusting someone else's ability to find their own way.

And sometimes recognising that the problem in front of me isn't necessarily mine to solve.

Maybe discernment isn't about becoming less active or less involved.

It's about having a little more freedom in how I respond.

I don’t need to become less of a problem solver.

Perhaps I simply need to become a little more curious about which problems are mine to solve.

And which ones aren’t problems at all.

As for my journey to Ise, I eventually stopped reflecting, watched the landscape pass by, and enjoyed a little sleep on the train home.

No great revelation.

No life-changing decision.

Just a good day out.

And perhaps that was enough.