We want to do something big.
Make a dent. Make a splash. Make it matter. So we plan. We push. We force.
We put all this pressure on the first step—to somehow contain the entire vision. But that’s not how big things are born. That’s how big things die in planning docs.
We try to make it a thing. Before it’s ready to be a thing. But that’s how things stall. Break down. Erode. Fade.
Not because the idea was bad. Not because the effort wasn’t real. But because the process demanded too much energy before momentum had a chance to build. There wasn’t enough fuel to carry it through the quiet, the doubt, the days (and weeks) that don’t go to plan.
It doesn’t have to be big and impressive to be good. And starting small doesn't necessarily mean thinking small.
I feel like we’ve been taught that starting big is professional. But often? It’s a cosplay. It’s fear in fancy clothes. Because when we believe only big things matter, we start to think we don’t matter unless we’re being big.
Starting small says:
“I don’t know everything. I’m not trying to.
But I care enough to try—right here, with this little piece.”
Start with what you know. Keep showing up. Do it a lot. Every day. Even if it’s just saying hi.
Small things don't need to scale (yet). They need to stack. When it’s ready to be a thing, you’ll know. You’ll feel it. You’ll see it take shape.
If you’re reading this and thinking,
“I want to start, but I’m not ready…”
Write one sentence. Ask one question. Make one ugly square in Figma. Speed run a scrappy prototype.
You don’t need the whole plan. You just need one real step. And then? Keep doing it. Keep showing up.
Dream big. Start small. Ship daily.