What to do when you want to start something, and everything in you resists it
Ever notice how the hardest things to start are often the ones that matter most?
I’ve been thinking about that a lot today, after hearing a metaphor that hasn’t left my mind:
“A water mill needs a lot of water to start turning, but just a trickle to keep going. And so do we.”
And now I can’t stop thinking about how true that is… in life, in content, and especially in the things we want most but keep postponing.
This idea opened a huge loop in my mind, so I thought I’d share it with you (because that’s what this newsletter is all about).
I’m pretty sure you can relate to this…
You have a great idea or project you know you need to work on, but get completely stuck at the actual doing part of it.
You think about it, brainstorm it, maybe even map out a detailed plan. But none of that is actually doing it!
This kind of “mental friction” shows up a lot for me, especially when it comes to things I want to (and know I should) do for myself.
Starting this newsletter is one of those things.
My mentor had told me for months that I needed to create content to promote my marketing business, and I knew she was right! But boy, was it hard to start.
If you ask me why… well, I’ve got a handful of silly excuses. So I’ll spare myself the embarrassment, ok?
My point is: I see this everywhere.
With clients, friends, and even seasoned business owners.
We all know what we want to do and what we should do to help us grow. But when it’s just for us (with no deadline, no external pressure), starting feels ten times harder.
The water mill metaphor keeps looping in my head because it explains so much of that resistance.
The energy it takes to begin something? It’s real. But once we get going, momentum takes over.
So I’ve been wondering…
What if we planned for the friction?
What if we lowered the pressure on the first step, instead of beating ourselves up for not being consistent enough?
Starting small: what that looks like in practice for me
Planning for the friction is leaving your phone far from your bed, so you have to get up even to push snooze. Then, once you’re up, finding your gym outfit ready for you to put on and go. Don’t think too much, just start moving!
(That’s how I got into the habit of exercising 7 days per week. Promise it works!)
In the context of content strategy, here’s what I think starting small means:
- Writing a messy first draft instead of a perfect post.
- Recording a 3-minute voice memo instead of a full podcast.
- Sharing one idea on LinkedIn instead of mapping out a content calendar.
- Opening the doc and starting to write with no judgments, then closing it and coming back later with fresh eyes.
The water mill doesn’t need constant force, just enough to begin.
Sometimes we expect too much from our first push. We expect clarity, quality, and confidence all at once, when what we really need is just a spark.
If you’ve been procrastinating something that matters to you, professionally or personally, maybe the question isn’t “Why can’t I get this done?”, but “What’s the smallest way I can begin?”
Open Tabs
The section where I share something I’ve been reading, watching, or thinking about — a spark that opened a new loop for me and might do the same for you.
Book: The War of Art by Steven Pressfield
I haven’t read it yet (it’s been sitting in my Kindle for ages), but it keeps coming up in conversations about creative resistance.
It explores that invisible force that tries to stop us from starting, even when it’s something we deeply care about. Which couldn’t be more on point with today’s loop.
If you’ve read it, I’d love to know: Did it help you? What stuck with you the most?
And if you have other book recommendations about starting, finishing, or sticking with meaningful work, send them my way. I’d love to hear what’s helped you move past resistance.
Thanks for reading and for being part of this loop.
If you’ve got your own “water mill” moment in mind, hit reply and tell me what it is. I’d love to hear what’s been sitting on your mental shelf.
See you in the next loop,
Bruna.