Unblocked: More Or Less

Blockage, in small doses, is what makes movement felt . I’ve come to love the phrase “more or less unblocked.” It’s honest. It’s lived-in. It admits that there’s still a pebble in your shoe, but you’re walking anyway. There’s still a knot in the rope, but you’re pulling it through.

Partial blockage breeds creativity. Total blockage breeds despair. But total unblocking ? That breeds shallowness. If you take one thing from this, let it be this small, unglamorous practice:

But I’ve started to suspect that absolute unblocked-ness is a myth. Worse: it might be a lie that keeps us from actually moving. more or less unblocked

“I’ll start when I feel ready.” “I’ll write when I have the perfect idea.” “I’ll love again when I’m fully healed.”

There is a quiet tyranny in the word "unblocked." Blockage, in small doses, is what makes movement felt

And yet—here I am. Writing. Sending this out.

Which, as it turns out, is more than enough. If this resonated with you, consider sharing it with someone who’s waiting for the “perfect moment” to start something. Tell them: the imperfect now is already a door, slightly ajar. It admits that there’s still a pebble in

But decks are never fully clear. There is always another email. Another ache. Another doubt. The pursuit of total clearance becomes a procrastination masquerading as preparation.