How to stop spinning your wheels and start getting your life on track

We’ve all had those moments — lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how life got so messy. Your room’s a disaster, your inbox is a war zone, and your habits? Let’s just say they wouldn’t impress a monk. 

You know something needs to change. You just don’t know where to start. Or maybe you’ve started a dozen times, only to fall back into the same old patterns.

I’ve been there. As someone who once juggled a chaotic schedule, fraying relationships, and a mind that never seemed to rest, I know how overwhelming it can be. 

During my university years, I would swing between bursts of productivity and long stretches of self-sabotage, convinced I could “figure it out later.” Later never came—until I hit a wall, emotionally and spiritually. 

That was the beginning of a journey into Buddhist practice that ultimately reshaped my life.

Today, I’ll walk you through a no-fluff process to start getting your life together—grounded in the psychological principles that work and the Buddhist wisdom that sustains real change. 

Why you’re stuck (and why that’s okay)

The first truth I had to accept was this: you can’t fix your life while you’re still clinging to the version that broke it.

Psychology has a term for this — cognitive fusion — when we become so entangled with our thoughts, beliefs, and identity that we can’t see past them. 

Buddhists call it attachment: clinging to things, people, or ideas, expecting them to make us happy, even when they’re the source of our suffering.

Here’s the kicker: the problem isn’t just what’s happening in your life. It’s your relationship to what’s happening.

The lesson here? Stop trying to get your life together by adding more. Start by letting go.

For me, this realization hit one night when I caught myself scrolling Instagram for the fifth time in an hour—avoiding the sinking feeling that my days felt meaningless. I wasn’t lazy. I was just disconnected from what mattered. That was my signal to begin again.

A step-by-step process to get your life together

Step 1: Do a life inventory (without the drama)

Set a timer for 15 minutes and ask yourself three brutally honest questions:

1. What’s working?

2. What’s not?

3. What am I pretending not to know?

Don’t write a novel. Just get the raw truth out of your head and onto paper. You’ll likely find patterns — habits you know are unhealthy, obligations you resent, goals that no longer excite you.

I did this once while sitting in a noisy café, realizing I was spending most of my time on things that didn’t align with my values—just to impress people I didn’t even like. That realization hit hard. But it also set me free.

Tip: Treat this exercise like a meditation. No judgment. Just awareness.

Lately, I do this inventory once a month in my notes app—usually while drinking coffee alone in the morning. It’s less about fixing and more about facing. And weirdly, just facing it makes things feel more manageable.

Step 2: Identify the attachments holding you back

Now ask yourself: What am I attached to that’s keeping me stuck?

• A job that drains you because it feels safe?
• A toxic relationship you’re scared to leave?
• An identity as “the reliable one” that’s killing your boundaries?

In Buddhism, non-attachment doesn’t mean not caring. It means not clinging. It’s the radical act of releasing what no longer serves you—so you can make space for what does.

In my case, I had to let go of being the overachiever who never said no. That identity won me praise, but it also left me burned out and resentful.

Letting go felt terrifying at first. But in that emptiness, something new began to grow: clarity.

Even now, I still catch myself gripping to old identities. Sometimes it’s the version of me that “has it all together.” But peace doesn’t come from holding on—it comes from being honest enough to let go of even the image of having it figured out.

Step 3: Declutter your life (not just your closet)

Yes, Marie Kondo your sock drawer if that helps. But more importantly, declutter your commitments, your calendar, your thought loops.

Ask:

• What can I stop doing?
• What can I say “no” to this week?
• What mental story am I replaying that I can let go of?

Research in cognitive psychology shows that mental bandwidth is a finite resource. 

I’d go as far as to say that every open loop in your life—unresolved conflicts, cluttered spaces, half-finished projects—drains your ability to focus and feel present.

Start small. I gave up checking my phone first thing in the morning and instantly felt 10% more human. Sometimes 10% is all you need to start.

I also started leaving one day a week unscheduled—no meetings, no plans. It felt uncomfortable at first, like I was “wasting” time. But it became sacred. That white space gave me breathing room to think, reflect, and actually feel joy again.

Step 4: Design simple systems (not goals)

This is a big one. 

Most people fail not because they lack motivation—but because they rely on it. Motivation is fickle. Systems are sustainable.

Or as put by bestselling author and habit expert James Clear:

“You do not rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems.”

Instead of “I want to get fit,” create a system: “Every morning, I do 20 minutes of movement before checking emails.”

Instead of “I’ll be more mindful,” set a system: “I meditate for 5 minutes after lunch.”

Systems reduce decision fatigue. They turn self-improvement into routine.

Tip: Anchor new habits to existing behaviors (a technique called habit stacking). Example: “After I brush my teeth, I’ll write one sentence in my journal.”

When I was trying to develop a writing routine, I stopped aiming for 1000 words a day. Instead, I set a system: “After I make tea, I open my laptop and write one paragraph.” On the worst days, I wrote that paragraph and stopped. On better days, it snowballed. But I always showed up.

Step 5: Focus on ‘right effort’, not perfection

In the Eightfold Path, the Buddha taught Right Effort as a steady, balanced energy—not forcing things, not being lazy, but showing up with intention.

For a long time, I thought ‘effort’ meant going all in—waking up at 5 a.m., meditating for an hour, working nonstop. I believed if I wasn’t pushing hard, I wasn’t serious.

But it wore me down. I remember one weekend retreat where I planned to follow a strict schedule. By day two, I was exhausted and frustrated. So I gave up the structure and just walked in nature, breathed, and rested.

And that’s when I felt the shift—peace, not pressure. I wasn’t failing. I was finally listening.

The point? Right Effort isn’t about doing more. It’s about doing what’s needed, with care. Some days that’s big action. Other days it’s just breathing and not giving up.

Keep it simple. Keep it honest. Keep going.

Nowadays, my measure of success isn’t how much I do—it’s how present I feel doing it. Some days I crush my to-do list. Other days, I just make sure I’ve been kind to myself and the people I love. That’s enough.

A gentle invitation to begin

Getting your life together doesn’t happen through one big decision. It happens through small, repeated acts of clarity and courage.

And in my experience, it begins with a question: What can I let go of today?

Maybe it’s the pressure to be perfect. Or the idea that you’re too far behind. Or the fear that without your old habits, you won’t know who you are.

I promise you this: there’s something beautiful on the other side of release. And you don’t have to reach enlightenment to feel it. Just take one step. Let go of one thing. And begin again.

If this article resonated with you, you might also enjoy my book “Hidden Secrets of Buddhism: How to Live with Maximum Impact and Minimum Ego”—where I dive even deeper into the practices that changed my life.

Breathe deep. Stay kind. Let go of what doesn’t serve you. Your future self is already thanking you.