Momentum, or the lack thereof, is a powerful thing.
It’s the curse of the blank page – once you start eating into the word count and forming some paragraphs, momentum kicks in and it gets easier. It’s starting that’s the difficult part.
Re-starting is even harder.
I often feel a bit like the old, red minibus my church used to have. Once you got the engine running, you flipping well kept it running, because you were never quite certain that it would ever start again.
You see, I haven’t blogged for a while. And the longer I leave it, the harder it is to pick it back up. I put pressure on myself. Tell myself that because I’ve left it so long that I can’t just write anything – it needs to be amazing. Wisdomous, witty and woven together delicately with the skill and hand-eye co-ordination of a microscopic sand sculptor.
And there is the problem. Because that’s a lie. I don’t think that’s how momentum works.
Any step forward creates momentum – however small. It doesn’t matter if I write some utter pigswill, something completely bizarre (like that thing about Andy Murray. I am sorry about that) or the blog equivalent of a Mr Men book – short, but beautiful and funny – speaking to deep, spiritual and grammatical truths.
What matters is that I do something. Anything. If I keep waiting for the perfect moment or some incredible inspiration, like the big red bus, I may never start again.
So whatever it is that you are lacking momentum for – creating a new habit, picking up an old creative endeavour – just get on with it. Start small; start really terrible if you must. But whatever you do, start. Or start again.
Don’t wait. Create your own flipping momentum.