Last week, I talked about “Unwritten” and the reminder that today is where the book begins. I thought I was done with that theme. That was, until I realized I’d left something… well, unwritten. It’s this: we don’t discover the next chapter by thinking about it. We discover it by releasing what holds us back long enough to take one step forward.

For most of us, the brakes aren’t just fear; they’re habits that look responsible. We say we’re “preparing,” “researching,” or “waiting for the right moment.” Smart on paper. Paralyzing in practice. If you’ve been circling the same idea for weeks (or years), this one is for you.

Here are the four situational inhibitors I see most, and some thoughts on how to move through them.

1) Perfection Looks Productive, But It’s a Stall

Perfection is seductive because it feels like excellence. It’s not. It’s avoidance with good branding. Excellence grows from attempts; perfection prevents attempts. Perfection, they say, is the enemy of progress.

When I came back to performing after my cochlear implant, I wanted perfect pitch, perfect control, perfect confidence. Reality? My brain was relearning sound. “Perfect” wasn’t available. Showing up was. So I chose presence over polish—and progress happened. A slight adjustment here and there made it easier to perform.

Try this: Set a Minimum Viable First Step (MVFS): a step so small you can complete it today without fanfare. Send one email. Draft one paragraph. Record a 20-second practice clip. Excellence will meet you after the first attempts, not before.

2) Comparison Is a Rigged Game

If you only start once you feel as good as “them,” you won’t start. You’re comparing your day one to someone else’s year ten. Besides, you can’t copy their path and keep your purpose. I talk about this trap a lot: your journey is uniquely yours.

When I began writing and blogging, I saw people with bigger platforms, shinier graphics, tighter sentences. Easy to freeze. What moved me forward was letting my voice be my edge: conversational, human, relatable, sometimes messy, but always honest. It’s still the thing that resonates most.

Try this: Create a “Me vs. Me” scoreboard for the next 7 days. Track only what you controlled: minutes practiced, pages written, conversations initiated, reps completed. Progress measured against yourself will always feel fair—and motivating.

3) Waiting for Permission Keeps You in Neutral

We tell ourselves we need a sign, a certificate, a guru’s green light. I’m all for learning and mentorship (I’ve got a few certifications, myself), but if you’re waiting to be “named” a writer, a singer, a coach, a leader—consider yourself named. Most identities are claimed in action long before they’re announced by others.

Some of my biggest life changes happened because I stopped waiting and started doing: publishing the book, launching the blog, saying yes to friendships and relationships I wouldn’t have years ago, and yes to performing again. No authority figure arrived to bless the moment. I had to.

Try this: Write a one-sentence Declaration of Doing and read it out loud: “Today I practice as a __ by doing __ for 15 minutes.” Then do exactly that. Identity follows action.

4) The “When Things Calm Down” Trap

Real talk: life doesn’t always give you the perfect runway. “When work slows,” “when the kids’ schedule opens,” “when I have more energy”… these become permanent delays. Your future doesn’t need quiet to begin (when is your life ever quiet?); it needs a start that fits real life.

One of the best skills I’ve learned is right-sizing effort. If I can’t do the big version, I’ll do the small one. Ten minutes of drafting. One call instead of five. A walk around the block instead of a full workout. Small moves keep the engine warm. Momentum beats intensity when you’re building a habit.

Try this: Choose a Tiny Consistent Ritual you can do daily in under 10 minutes. Put it on your calendar. Protect it like an appointment. Consistency is confidence you can schedule.

What “Releasing Inhibitions” Actually Means

It isn’t wild impulsiveness. It’s removing just enough friction to let the next honest action happen. In PURPOSE terms, it can look like U — Unload Emotional Baggage (naming the fear, the story, the shame), then move into O — Open a New Chapter (one concrete behavior that belongs to the new page). We’re not bypassing feelings; we’re right-sizing them so they don’t run the show. Feelings are always there. Being emotionally intelligent allows you to thrive despite “negative” feelings.

When I’ve stepped forward—whether that was performing post-surgery, hitting publish on a vulnerable post, or saying yes to a new friendship, I wasn’t fearless. I was decisive in the presence of fear. That’s the whole game.

A Simple 3-Step “Unwritten” Plan for This Week

1. Name your page. What’s the area you’ve been circling? One sentence. No judgment.
2. Shrink the start. Choose an MVFS you can complete today in 10 minutes or less.
3. Broadcast tiny accountability. Text a trusted friend: “I’m doing ___ by ___ today.” Then report back. Zero drama, just facts.

Do that for seven days and you’ll feel different. You’ll have proof. And proof changes stories.

If You Need a Nudge

Borrow mine: You don’t need permission. You don’t need perfect. You don’t need the whole plan. You need the next honest action. That’s it. I tell my kids all the time not to be afraid to fail.

Last week, I said the rest is still “unwritten.” This week, I’ll add: it stays unwritten until you move. Not a leap. A step. And then another. Your life responds to movement.

Your Challenge This Week

Pick one area you’ve stalled on—creative, relational, career, health, or something else.

• Write your Declaration of Doing.
• Take your Minimum Viable First Step today.
• Track a 7-day Me vs. Me scoreboard.

At the end of the week, ask: What did starting teach me that thinking never could?

Your next chapter is not waiting for the perfect mood, the perfect moment, or the perfect you. It’s waiting for movement. The page won’t write itself—but it will meet you the second your pen hits it.