If you’ve been around here for a while, you know that I talk a lot about routines, systems, and building habits that stick. So it might surprise you to hear that over the past several months, I’ve been pretty quietly absent from this blog.
No dramatic announcement. No “taking a break” post. I just… got busy. And then getting started again felt harder than I expected.
Here’s what happened: my daughter is on a competitive dance team. And if you’ve ever been in the world of competitive dance, you already know what “competition season” actually means. It means weekends away. Hotel stays booked months in advance. Missed school days, missed work days, costumes, rehearsals, and a family calendar that suddenly feels like it belongs to someone else’s schedule entirely.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I love watching her perform. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But somewhere in the middle of all of it, my own routines quietly fell apart.
And the blog was one of the first things to go.
Why restarting feels so much harder than starting
Here’s what I’ve been thinking about: starting something new has a kind of energy to it. There’s excitement, a fresh slate, zero expectations. But coming back to something you’ve already done — something you were genuinely good at — carries a completely different weight.
When you’re restarting, you’re not just dealing with the task itself. You’re also dealing with:
- The guilt of having stopped in the first place
- The gap between where you left off and where you are now
- The pressure to “make up” for lost time
- The story you’ve been telling yourself about why you can’t get back to it
That’s a lot of mental overhead before you’ve even opened your laptop.
I’ve coached enough people through this — and lived it enough times myself — to know that the gap isn’t the real problem. The story about the gap is the problem.
The myth of the perfect re-entry
One of the sneakiest things that keeps people stuck is waiting for the right moment to restart. We tell ourselves we’ll get back to it when things calm down. When the season ends. When the kids go back to school. When we have a full week free to really commit.
But that week rarely comes. And even when it does, the mental hurdle of “how do I explain the gap” or “where do I even pick up?” keeps us frozen a little longer.
The truth is, there is no perfect re-entry. There’s just the decision to start again — imperfectly, quietly, without a big announcement — and then actually doing it.
Which is exactly what this post is.
What I’m doing differently this time
I’m not trying to pick up where I left off. I’m not rushing to post twice a week to “make up” for the months I missed. Instead, I’m doing something that goes against every productivity instinct I have:
I’m starting smaller than I think I need to.
One post twice a month. That’s it. No elaborate content calendar to fill, no pressure to be consistent across every platform simultaneously. Just one post, written from wherever I actually am, published on a schedule I know I can hold.
Because here’s what I’ve learned: a small habit you actually keep is worth more than an ambitious one you abandon after three weeks.
If you’re in the middle of your own “restart” right now
Maybe it’s not a blog. Maybe it’s the gym routine that got derailed in December. The morning routine that fell apart when the kids’ schedules changed. The business task you keep saying you’ll get back to “once things settle down.”
Here’s what I want you to know:
The gap doesn’t erase what you built. It’s just a pause. And the way back isn’t through guilt or a massive overhaul — it’s through one small, unsexy, undramatic step forward.
You don’t need to explain the gap. You don’t need to make up for lost time. You just need to start again — in a way that works for where you actually are right now, not where you think you should be.
And if you’re not sure what that looks like for you, that’s a great place to start.
Take the free Productivity Personality Quiz and find out how you naturally work best — so you can stop trying to follow someone else’s system and start building one that actually fits your life.