“Human behaviour flows from three main sources: desire, emotion, and knowledge.”

-Plato

One of the most useful questions I've ever learned to ask myself is this: What's the payoff?

Not, "Why am I like this?"

Not, "What's wrong with me?"

Not, "Why does this keep happening to me?"

What's the payoff?

Because if we're repeating a behaviour, a relationship pattern, a financial habit, or the same freaking argument for the fiftieth time, there's a reason.

There is always a payoff.

Always. Even when the behaviour isn't working. Even when we're miserable.

Even when we're swearing up and down that we're done.There is a payoff.

My earliest memories are of my Dad teaching me how to punch. Properly. Not like a girl. I was good at it, and he was fully stoked that he had a daughter who could hold her own.

Some of my next memories are of my Dad teaching me how to argue. Properly. Build a case. Defend it. Win.

I learned that to be safe, to be respected, I needed to be tough and I couldn't back down. Somewhere along the way, I tucked away the belief that success and victory could only belong to one of us.

And it was going to be me. No. Matter. What.

My earliest memories are of my Dad teaching me how to punch. Properly. Not like a girl.

I was good at it, and he was fully stoked that he had a daughter who could hold her own.

The thing is, that wasn't the whole story. Not even close.

I was also loved.

I was also comforted.

I was also allowed to be vulnerable.

I could be afraid.

I could ask for support.

I could expose what I believed were my weaknesses and be met with kindness.

Unfortunately for me, and every man I ever dated, I usually led with the first lesson.

Be tough.

Be smart.

Make sure everybody knows your argument is airtight.

Shockingly, this strategy did not have the same effect on the men I dated that it had on my Dad.

Nobody was congratulating me on my debating skills.

Nobody was telling me how tough I was.

Nobody was handing out medals.

In fact, people were leaving. And I was flummoxed.

I couldn't understand why people couldn't see my kindness, my softness, my love. The person I knew myself to be wasn't the person the world seemed to be experiencing.

Eventually, I developed a story.

Relationships never work out for me. Men just don't like me.

And there I was, stuck inside the movie screen of my own life, unable to see the role I was playing in the plot.

What I couldn't see at the time was that my behaviour had a payoff.

If relationships failed because other people couldn't see me, then I didn't have to look at what was happening underneath my toughness.

I didn't have to touch the pain.

I didn't have to risk vulnerability.

I didn't have to leave the fortress I'd built around myself.

I wasn't happy.

But I was safe.

And that was the payoff.

Most of us have patterns like this.

The person who never asks for help because they don't want to be a burden.

The person who never speaks up because they don't want conflict.

The person who never slows down because being busy feels productive.

The person who keeps choosing unavailable partners.

The person who keeps ending up in the same situation and swears this time will be different.

But it isn't. It never is. A pattern is a pattern until we interrupt it.

The behaviour might be costing us peace, connection, money, health, joy, or the relationship we say we've always wanted -

but it's giving us something too. Otherwise we'd stop.

Seriously.

We wouldn't keep doing something that wasn't working for us on some level.

This is something I see all the time in Reiki classes. People come to Reiki because they want to feel calmer, more connected, more confident, more present. Reiki absolutely helps with that, but Reiki doesn't just help us relax. Reiki helps us become aware - and awareness changes everything.

When we slow down enough to sit with ourselves, when we stop distracting ourselves for five freaking minutes, we begin to notice things.

We notice the stories.

We notice the beliefs.

We notice the places where we're still trying to protect ourselves.

We begin to see that many of our behaviours aren't random at all. They're strategies. They're survival mechanisms. They're attempts to avoid pain, and that is where compassion enters the picture. Because the goal isn't to beat ourselves up; Most of us are already Olympic-level experts at that.The goal is to understand ourselves:

Every choice we make moves us in one of two directions.

Towards joy.

Or away from pain.

At first glance those sound like the same thing.

They aren't.

Running away from pain feels like relief.

Moving toward joy feels expansive.

One contracts.

The other opens.

One says, "Thank God that's over."

The other says, "I feel more alive."

Many of the patterns we struggle with aren't actually moving us toward joy. They're moving us away from discomfort. The payoff is safety.

The question becomes: Is the cost worth it anymore?

Maybe it is.

Maybe it isn't.

But if you're still having the same argument, dating the same person in a different body, repeating the same financial struggle, or finding yourself in the same freaking movie year after year, it might be worth asking.

Exercise: Finding the Payoff

Find a quiet place where you won't be interrupted.

If you have a Reiki practice, place your hands on your heart centre and allow yourself a few minutes of stillness. Let Reiki do what Reiki does best. Slow things down enough that you can actually hear yourself.

Take a few breaths.

Bring your awareness inward.

Now think of an area of your life that never seems to work out.

Choose a specific situation.

Really see it - What happened? Who was there? What were you hoping for?

Now ask yourself:

What need was I trying to fulfill?
What was I feeling in my body?
What emotions were present?
How did I respond?
What was I trying to avoid?
What did that response protect me from?
What was the payoff?

Be honest. Like really honest.

Not the answer you'd give your best friend.

Not the answer you'd give your therapist.

Not the answer you'd post on social media.

The answer you'd give if nobody was ever going to read it.

Maybe the payoff was avoiding rejection.

Maybe it was staying in control.

Maybe it was looking smart.

Maybe it was avoiding disappointment.

Maybe it was protecting an image of yourself.

Maybe it was proving that somebody else was wrong.

There are no wrong answers here.

Seriously.

If your answer feels ugly, selfish, petty, defensive, jealous, controlling, or uncomfortable, write it down anyway.The purpose isn't to judge yourself. The purpose is to tell yourself the truth.

Because once you can see the payoff clearly, something shifts.

You realize you're not crazy.

You're not broken.

You're not sabotaging yourself for no reason.

You're protecting something.

The question is whether that protection is still necessary. Awareness creates choice. And once you see the payoff, it's really hard to unsee it. That's where things start to get interesting.

The next time you find yourself repeating an old pattern, pause and ask yourself:

What am I getting from this?

Because there is a payoff. There always is. The question is whether you're still willing to pay the price.

Karen McCullough is the co-director of the Westcoast Reiki Centre, where she has been teaching and practicing Reiki for nearly two decades. With a background in education and bodywork, Karen brings both depth and playfulness to her teaching. She is dedicated to training Reiki practitioners and teachers in ways that are trauma-informed, grounded, and authentic. Her work blends the traditional roots of Reiki with a modern understanding of energy, always emphasizing kindness, self-responsibility, and personal transformation.