Progress

Progress begins when you finally feel enough space to take a step toward what matters.

Once acceptance settles, you’ll find yourself with possibilities. Tools you could experiment with. Techniques or approaches that you hadn’t thought of before. Letting go of the anchor that was holding you back sets you free to move forward.

Progress often begins as curiosity or hope. You notice a tool you have been wanting to try. You wonder what it would feel like to shift your routine. You remember a project that once made you smile, and you want to reclaim that joy in the work of your hands.

Instead of feeling overwhelmed by the thought of beginning, you begin to feel a pull toward exploration.

Small movements count.

You might skim an article that catches your interest. You might open a window on your computer just to see how a program looks now. You might make a list of ideas without asking yourself to choose one. You might even let yourself imagine how your creative life could feel if you allowed it to grow in a new direction.

I remember my mother opening a new color of paint, picking up a new brush, and tentatively making test strokes on a test canvas.

These are not trivial steps. They are the first signs of energy returning.

Small movements remind you that momentum is something you build, not something you have to generate all at once.

Progress is rarely linear.

Progress often looks like reaching for something you set aside, or trying a new technique with no expectation attached to it. Sometimes it shows up as a shift in how you talk to yourself. Sometimes it is the moment you realize you feel a little more hopeful than you did the day before.

You do not have to know where the path leads. You only have to notice when something lifts your attention and follow it long enough to see whether it feels right. That is enough.

Progress can feel awkward.

As you make these small movements, your creative self may struggle a bit to get its footing.

As you move forward, you move, bit by bit, away from old patterns that no longer fit. Each tiny step shows that you are willing to move forward. The spark inside you responds to that gentleness. It stretches. It warms. It begins to grow.

This stage is the most experimental part of change. You get to try things. You get to adjust. You get to be curious again. Progress does not ask you to commit to anything. It simply asks you to stay open to what feels possible now.

Remember that we don’t laugh at babies when they take their first steps and then faceplant. We cheer them on for being brave enough to take the step, and we help them up again!

Possibility is a powerful thing. Progress is the bravery of standing up again. It reminds you that your creative life is not stuck.

Think of the joy that erupts on a child’s face the first time they make it across the room. It isn’t a flawless winning of a race, but it is a powerful potential moment. This child is now mobile. (Every parent just cringed at this analogy.)

When you give yourself permission to take one small, hopeful step, you create momentum without even trying. That step becomes the foundation for the next one. You feel the difference between forcing yourself and supporting yourself. You begin to find the balance of a life that is full of creative potential energy.

Progress grows through curiosity, courage, and a willingness to try.

Reflection Prompts

• What small experiment would feel interesting or even fun to try right now?

• Where do you sense a spark of possibility, even if it is faint?

• What new tool, idea, or method feels lighter than what you were doing before?

• How might you support yourself in taking a gentle, hopeful step today?

Write these answers with hope and encouragement. Give yourself permission to try something new without pressure.

This is one of 5 posts covering the ADAPT method for creatives adapting to the changes in our modern world. These are all part of The Work of Joy, my current non-fiction project. Stay tuned for more information!

If you want more like this, I’ve completely updated my most joyful class, It’s a Wonderful Writer’s Life. It’s a wonderful gift for yourself or for any writer who wants to shake off the drain of 2025 and step into 2026 refreshed.