Your Graveyard of Good Intentions

Your desk drawer holds the evidence. That novel you started during the pandemic, abandoned at chapter twelve. The guitar gathering dust in the corner, six months after you swore you'd finally learn. The half-painted bedroom wall hidden behind furniture you strategically repositioned. The business plan that consumed your weekends for three months before you quietly stopped talking about it.

You've convinced yourself the problem is getting started. "I'm just not good at beginning things," you tell yourself. But that's a lie. You're excellent at starting. You start constantly. You're a professional beginner, a serial starter, a master of the first mile.

Starting was never your problem. That final 10% between good enough and actually done is where your dreams suffocate.