No Shoes, No Service

I have always been drawn to organization and productivity. I will admit that I have been known to spend 45 minutes planning a 10-minute project. I’m always looking for the most efficient way to do something. I’m constantly searching for an idea that will save me a little time or effort. Often, I find that planning is more satisfying than execution—which probably indicates that I really have a procrastination problem. But that’s another topic for another time.

I’ve recently returned to one of the tricks I learned over twenty years ago. If you want to get stuff done, you’re more likely to do it if you put on a pair of shoes. Yes, shoes.

As I’ve aged, this practice has earned a prominent place in pain management too, but I’ve always found that I’m more motivated to get up from my chair and complete a physical task when I have my shoes on.

I was first introduced to this idea through the FlyLady website, which shared practical advice on organized housekeeping. What started as an email group blossomed into an informational website long before “influencing” was even a thing. It offered simple tips and routines to help people maintain a clean, organized home—which, as it turns out, has a positive effect on just about every other part of life too.

Beyond the physical comfort and support that shoes provide, there’s something mental that happens when you lace them up. The simple act of putting on your shoes shifts your brain from thinking to doing. It sends a signal that it’s time to stop planning and start moving.

The older I get, the more I realize that life isn’t usually changed by grand gestures. More often, it’s changed by ordinary habits repeated over and over again. We tend to think productivity comes from finding the perfect planner, the right app, or a better system. Those things can certainly help, but eventually every plan reaches the same place: the moment when you have to stand up and begin.

For me, putting on my shoes has become a quiet ritual. It’s a line in the sand between intention and action. It reminds me that thinking has its place, but thinking alone never folded the laundry, wrote the article, weeded the flower bed, or called the friend I’ve been meaning to check on. Those things only happen when I take the first step.

Maybe that’s why this simple habit has stayed with me for more than twenty years. It isn’t really about the shoes. It’s about making a small decision that tells my mind, We’re doing this now.

I’ve learned that motivation is a funny thing. We spend so much time waiting for it to arrive, when more often it catches up to us after we’ve already begun. One small action leads to another, and before long we’re wondering why the task seemed so difficult in the first place.

So if you find yourself stuck today, don’t worry about finishing the whole project. Don’t wait until you feel inspired. Just put on your shoes. Sometimes that’s all it takes to remind yourself that progress doesn’t begin with perfection. It begins with one small, ordinary step—and those ordinary steps are what end up shaping an extraordinary life.