Uninspired, but willing.

I often feel un-inspired…

…but I am willing to try.

It’s how I begin work most days.

This very piece you’re reading started with an uninspired mood.

The same with my videos — when I record them, it’s almost a guarantee that I’m not feeling inspired at the beginning. I don’t go around all day feeling eager to be on camera! Yet, I show up because I committed to doing it, and have a belief that what I share might eventually help someone.

For me, working conditions don’t feel ideal most of the time:

• I’m either not feeling like doing what my schedule says…
• Or there’s construction or other neighborhood noise…
• Or I’m not in the mood for thinking about this project.

Because conditions are usually not perfect, I’ve had lots of practice working in suboptimal conditions. Because that is almost always the case.

Many of us carry an illusion, perhaps picked up from Hollywood movies — there’s a scene of a genius struck by metaphorical lightning, suddenly filled with inspiration, creating an invention or a piece of art, all in flow!

Many of us grow up with the idea that we need that creative lightning bolt before we can start…

But I have a secret, shared with many writers, video makers, artists, business creators, and inventors — I don’t feel inspired to create until after I start working for a while.

You might notice it if you watch my longer videos. My energy often shifts. I might start out feeling flat, perhaps having just woken from a nap. I observe myself following my schedule, and making myself talk on camera. It’s not because I’m naturally spouting wisdom the moment the camera turns on. It’s because my schedule says it’s time, so I simply and humbly try…

It could be a mediocre video. It often is.

It could be a blog post I later realize wasn’t that good. That’s okay.

I’m not trying to be mediocre, but I am trying to show up and share something that might help my ideal clients move forward.

Most of the day, you’ll find me simply doing what I can to follow my schedule. If it’s my scheduled time to write, I will try to write. I might even feel some dread looking at the schedule — “Oh, I have to write later.” To this day, I don’t think I’m a good writer.

When I begin, I’m not inspired, but I write anyway, often starting with an idea that was given to me by inspiration sometime in the past.

It helps a lot to keep a list of ideas.

Ideas can appear at any time. Walking the dog. Taking a shower. Working on another project. Inspiration strikes so rarely — not even 1% in a typical day. In those few moments, I take a minute to capture the idea, usually writing it down on my phone.

I give thanks for those moments of clarity. But honestly, they are fleeting.

At the end of each day, I categorize any captured ideas — blog post ideas, marketing improvement ideas, notes for a client meeting.

Then, when my calendar says “Write a blog post,” I go to that category, pick an idea that resonates at that moment (even if I’m not excited to write), and begin to try.

The key is this:

Do not wait to be motivated to take action. 

Take action first, and motivation often follows.

Get started, and you might find yourself getting into the zone.

What helps me bridge the gap between “uninspired” and “willing”? My Energy Reboot practice. I do it before starting any work session, and throughout the hour, especially if a task feels difficult. The practice takes less than 30 seconds, so it’s easy to do frequently. It helps reset my energy and intention. It helps me to keep showing up.

What also helps a lot is Focusmate sessions, working silently alongside a virtual partner instead of just working alone. Feel free to join my Focusmate community so that we might get paired up at some point: Focusmate George Kao.

The great composer Tchaikovsky said: “I sit down to the piano regularly at nine-o’clock in the morning and The Lady Muses have learned to be on time for that rendezvous.”

Dutch journalist Peter R. de Vries said: 

“I only write when I am inspired. And I see to it that I am inspired at 9 a.m. every morning.”

Interesting that they both mention 9 am. When I first began writing regularly, I wrote at night. That worked well for months.

Then I shifted to mornings. I did that for several years.

Now, I often write in the afternoons. So I don’t think the specific time matters as much as the commitment and the habit that’s built.

With ongoing experience of an action, we grow confidence in that action.

With mindfulness in taking that action, we grow skill.

The celebrated painter Chuck Close offered this advice:

“Inspiration is for amateurs; the rest of us just show up and get to work. If you wait around for the clouds to part and a bolt of lightning to strike you in the brain, you are not going to make an awful lot of work. All the best ideas come out of the process; they come out of the work itself… Inspiration is absolutely unnecessary and somehow deceptive. You feel like you need this great idea before you can get down to work, and I find that’s almost never the case.”

More than a thousand videos and blog posts later, I can confirm this is true for me.

When I first begin writing a post, I don’t know how it will turn out. Sometimes, I struggle to see how I could write more than a few sentences. And sometimes, halfway through, I regret the whole thing — “I chose the wrong topic!” But if my schedule says to finish the blog post, I simply and humbly keep going.

Sometimes I’m writing on a topic I’ve covered many times before. I might not feel fresh inspiration because it feels like an old hat to me. But I do it anyway, knowing that it might serve as a much needed reminder for someone else — and for my future self.

Even if I doubt what I’m working on, I’ve rarely regretted continuing a “bad” post and publishing it anyway. I write and publish on a schedule, usually not feeling like it when I begin, but usually feeling quite glad afterwards.

That feeling — gladness after working through discomfort — is how I know I’m on purpose, and experiencing growth.

Follow through with purposeful discomfort, and you stretch beyond your comfort zone. Of course you don’t feel like stretching… it’s comfortable in the comfort zone! Yet, you stretch anyway.

“Being a professional is doing the things you love to do, on the days you don’t feel like doing them.” — Julius Erving, basketball legend.

“I don’t wait for moods. You accomplish nothing if you do that. Your mind must know it has to get down to work.” — Pearl Buck, celebrated Novelist.

If you are committed to creating — whether it’s writing, making videos, or building a business, or simply wrestling with frustrating technology — you will likely need to experience discomfort and uncertainty during the work.

It’s normal to doubt that we can do it. It’s fine to be baffled about the direction. This discomfort, this pain, is part of the process. It’s the uncertainty, the self-judgment, the frustration when things aren’t coming together easily.

Making something new means it might fail, might not be understood, might be judged (especially by yourself). That possibility creates discomfort.

Normalize your creative discomfort.

It doesn’t have to lead to any physical pain or deep suffering — that happens when we give too much energy to the discomfort. Pain is required for growth, but suffering is optional.

When you feel the doubt, the uncertainty, the frustration starting to spiral, catch yourself. Recognize it: “Ah, this is the feeling of stretching. This is normal.”

Then, reset. Use your practice — whether it’s an Energy Reboot or something else — to find that smidgen of optimism, that bit of hope that allows you to continue. Write the next sentence. Try editing the previous one. Start a new paragraph. Keep looking for the solution to the tech problem. Keep dabbing paint on the canvas.

Every time you work through discomfort instead of quitting, you get stronger, more confident. Afterwards, you look back and say, “Look at me. I did that!” The result might not be perfect, but you showed up. You grew yourself in a purposeful direction.

Think back to being a baby learning to walk. Thank goodness they don’t have our adult self-doubts! Babies just try. They fall down countless times before they walk steadily.

When they learn to talk, they babble incoherently before words form. Adopt that beginner’s mind. Try writing. Try the video. Try the tech. Try reaching out.

The only doubt I hope you’ll keep is the thought that discomfort means you should stop. Resist that thought. Instead, purposeful discomfort is evidence that you’re moving, growing, creating.

We’re all with you on this journey. When you feel that uncertainty next time, remember it’s the feeling of creation itself. So keep going!

(Originally written in 2019. Updated in 2025.)