I created the graphic below years ago when I was a raw foodist and making my first attempt at being a writer and creator full time.
It still makes me smile each time I see it. Hopefully, you are at least mildly amused. I ate a lot of bananas in those days.
I’m not saying that procrastination has disappeared from my experience. Sometimes it takes me longer to recognize it than I would like to admit. However, once noticed, I have found ways to squirm my way out of its sneaky grip.
Fear in Disguise
I personally find that I procrastinate most often because I am afraid to start something and not do it well. Or, I think that I will waste time doing it wrong and have to start over. So instead of beginning, I end up playing mental chess with myself—trying to foresee every move before I make it.
Spoiler: That’s not how creativity works. Or life, really.
Just Look It Up
One time I told a friend I was stuck on a scene because I didn’t know much about the topic. They stared at me and said, “Just look it up.”
I wanted it to be harder than that. It wasn’t.
That’s when I remembered: We don’t have to figure it all out alone. Between books, articles, podcasts, videos, and actual conversations with smart people, there’s an abundance of help at our fingertips.
Of course, there’s also the danger of falling into an eternal research spiral. (Ask me about my deep dive into obscure types of rope knots. Or don’t.) I’ve found that setting a timer for research helps. When it dings, I get back to the page—even if I don’t feel “ready.”
My Secret Weapon
Want to know what really kicks me into gear?
My husband.
He’s one of those magical creatures who just does stuff.
He doesn’t worry if it’s perfect. He doesn’t plan himself into a corner. He sees what needs doing and then… does it.
Watching him helps me remember that action doesn’t have to be fearless—it just has to start.
And if it doesn’t go as planned? I can pivot. I can adapt. I can learn.
Structure, Lists, and Shifting Landscapes
I’ve also learned to lean into planning and structure.
Time blocks, lists, and small achievable goals give me just enough accountability to bypass perfectionism. It’s not always about massive output—it’s about showing up and seeing what happens.
And in the end, I find the creative process to be an ongoing journey in which the terrain changes, I change, and the days are a mix of visiting new and old pathways—each freshly wonderful in what they show me of life.
I was raised in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS). While I don’t consider myself an active Mormon today, I was baptized in the Darlington Ward and stayed there until around age 10 or 11, when that ward closed. From then on, my family attended the Hartsville Ward. I remained involved until I was 19.
Growing up LDS came with structure and values I appreciated. The emphasis on goodness, kindness, and service resonated with me. Compared to the often confusing and cruel behavior I witnessed outside the church, it felt like a sanctuary.
But then something shifted.
A Moment at Camp That Changed Everything
However, I had an experience in Young Women’s Church camp when I was 13 that shifted how I saw the church. It didn’t help that a lot of unpleasantness was happening to people I cared about in my personal and school life. It was a confusing time with many, many things to process for a young, expanding mind.
Anyway, that particular experience at camp always occurred to me as a pivotal point in my belief system. For a 13-year old just wanting to trust the world, I felt that I couldn’t – not even in a church environment. My sister was at camp with me and she and I often stewed over the injustice we felt.
From Anger to Insight
As most writers, I love using writing as a cathartic process. I have been circling this story for many years, giving it the tentative title, “Sentenced”. It felt like more than just a journal entry for me to work through privately. At one time, I wanted to write it as a way of highlighting hypocrisy in order to release my young adult anger self-righteously.
I never could finish it that way. It felt trite. I got stuck and the story didn’t seem to want to go further and I didn’t want to force it to be what I wanted. I knew instinctively that there was more for me to uncover so I would know what the real story needed to be.
Many years of self-reflection later…
I opened the file for “Sentenced” and read it with fresh eyes. I realized that I felt really heavy reading it and that I also didn’t feel the anger or injustice that I once did. No one did anything intentionally hurtful. We were just human beings bumping up against each other in the way that we do. I decided to start revising the story and creating it in a way that was fun for me. From there, the ideas began popping and I was off.
What Sentenced Became
Sentenced is no longer a rant. It’s a surreal, funny, and heartfelt little journey through guilt, expectation, and otherworldly judgment. It’s about what happens when three teen girls find themselves facing cosmic consequences for things they don’t fully understand.
There’s a glow-y celestial visitor. There are mosquito swarms and snack-cakes. And underneath it all? There’s a deeper question about how we measure goodness—and who gets to decide.
