Why. Oh why?

I want to write. Really, I do. Except I must not really, or I would. My husband wants -needs - to draw, and should, but so far he doesn't, and I get onto him about it sometimes...he's been blessed with a gift he should use, he enjoys it...but so have I; so do I, and I don't either. What's the deal? Why, oh why, do we not do that which we should do?