Logjam

I made the leap. The water was cold, but invigorating.

I didn’t know how to start this project, so I started as simply as I could. I dug a hole. I carried the dirt uphill in five-gallon buckets. One in each hand. It took all day.

It got the blood moving. And my brain too.

Not in an analytical way. I wasn’t solving problems. Just working. Moving. Doing.

I'd been overthinking how to get started with this project, how to make all the logistical components rhyme. Somewhere in the rhythm of physical labor, my mind cleared.

It’s not that I don’t plan. I do. Especially on a site like this—tight access, sloped terrain, overlapping phases. You need a plan.

But when I’m stuck, it’s rarely because I didn’t plan enough.

Shovel. Bucket. Haul. Repeat.

That’s what broke the logjam.

It sounds counterintuitive, but sometimes the best way to figure it out is to stop trying to figure it out.