Start Small on the Off Days.

​Several years ago, I was on a reading streak that I'm still surprised by... every week, I read a new book. The train commute was the biggest help, but my evenings often ended with a few more chapters finished. My shelves filled with all the notable business books.

Then, as always, life shifted.

The train rides disappeared when work went remote. My evenings shrank after becoming a dad. The hours I used to fill with reading were replaced by bedtime routines, cleanup, and the kind of fatigue that kills ambition by nine o’clock. Still, the desire never left. I kept buying books, telling myself I’d pick them up soon. Each one sat waiting for Future Austin.

The problem wasn’t wanting to read. It was starting. I’d look at a new book, feel the weight of the unread stack beside it, and think, “I’ll start when I have more energy.” Weeks turned into months.

An Accidental Reminder

Then, last Thursday night, something unexpected happened. After dinner, I picked up a marketing book that felt easy enough to skim and felt relevant to my efforts with Laid Off Launchpad. My only goal was twenty pages. Just enough to get a grasp for the start of the book.

Seventy-five pages later, I finally went to bed.

That night, I remembered something I had forgotten: starting small has a way of disarming resistance. Opening the book opened the momentum.

When Progress Feels Uneven

The same principle carried me through my job search after being laid off.

Some days, I woke up with a full slate of coffee chats, interviews, and follow-ups. Other days, I stared at a blank calendar, feeling like I had to start from scratch. Those were the hardest mornings.

Starting from nothing always takes more energy than keeping something going.

It’s the same reason we delay tasks we care about. We imagine the whole mountain, not the first step. But the paradox of progress is that motion is what creates motivation, not the other way around.

Making Effort Smaller

When I finally learned to make my effort smaller, my productivity actually accelerated. Instead of deciding I’d “spend the day applying for jobs,” I gave myself permission to only do something small. Send one follow-up. Skim one job board. Comment on one LinkedIn update. Five minutes of forward motion.

Some days, that was enough. I’d do the one thing, close my laptop, and feel proud that I had at least shown up. Other days, that small task unlocked the day— stumbling across an exciting role gave me energy to fill the rest of the day with effort. Starting small built the bridge between intention and action.

It’s the same principle James Clear describes in Atomic Habits: when something feels too big to start, make it smaller until it’s impossible not to. He calls it the power of small wins.

That’s the hidden fuel for a routine. It isn’t powered by discipline or big bursts of inspiration. It’s powered by accessibility... the ability to make effort feel small enough to start.

Consistency Through Simplicity

We talk about consistency as if it’s a character trait, but most of the time, it’s just a byproduct of good design. When the work feels manageable and clear, we return to it more often, which allows momentum to take over. Consistency and momentum are not opposites, they’re partners. One keeps the engine running, the other keeps it moving forward.

If you’re in a lull right now, shrink the job search until it feels almost effortless. Keep a short list of small, tangible actions nearby... things you can do in five minutes or less. On the days you don’t feel like doing anything big, pick one and do it.

Here are three simple ones to start with:

1. Scan job boards for five minutes—no pressure to apply, just see what’s out there. 2. Send one follow-up note to someone you’ve spoken with before. 3. Write a thoughtful comment on a LinkedIn post from someone in your field.

Permission to Start Small

When I put that book down on Thursday night, I didn’t feel proud of how much I read. I felt proud that I’d started. The pages were just a bonus.

So, if your search feels heavy, lower the bar. Do something so small it almost feels trivial.

Because starting small isn’t settling. It’s how momentum begins.