My parents use to live near a man who owned a lawn care business. Guess who had the worst lawn in the neighborhood? Sometimes it's easier to clean up other people's messes than your own.
Counseling can be the same way. I sit across from clients in a room, readily encouraging them to walk with me into vulnerable places. But when I sat across from my wife at The Broken Egg the other morning, listening to her tell me how she sometimes felt disconnected from me, I wanted grab my french toast and finish it under the table.
It didn't matter that she was right; I just don't like looking at my "stuff" because that requires me to admit my need for change. I don't mind giving lip-service to that need ("Heh, heh... nobody's perfect!") but the real work of change is usually hard, humbling, and sometimes painful.
To be honest, I wonder if I've failed more often than I've succeeded, but I know who I want to be. And on my better days, like that morning, I can admit the struggle but voice my desire to live and love in a better way.
I want to mow my own lawn, too.