🌺 Halfway — It’s Starting to Feel Like Mine
Don’t look, but I’m having a little fun this year.
Day 50.
Fifty days in, something feels different.
Not easier, exactly. But lighter. More familiar. Like I’m not figuring it out from scratch every time I sit down to play.
The first few days were all effort.
Where to set up, how to record, what to play, how to make it work. Every step felt like a decision.
Now, most of those decisions are already made.
I know where to sit. I know how the sound will come through. I know how to start.
That’s been the quiet shift—less friction.
I didn’t just make it to Day 50. I built something that makes Day 51 easier.
Also—I’ve definitely forgotten to press record at least once. So this isn’t a perfect system. It just works more often than it used to.
A lot of things are easier now, but not in a dramatic way.
More like everything takes a little less effort than it used to.
I have a full day/date sheet now. I look at it right before I start, and it keeps me grounded. It sounds small, but it matters. I’ve said the wrong day enough times to know.
I also know how long things take. Recording, editing, even just watching the video all the way through—it’s not that bad. That alone removes a surprising amount of resistance.
I’ve leaned into all my teacher habits. Everything is organized—albums, weeks, song lists. I have a full manifest, and I can see where everything lives.
I’m a visual, hands-on learner, so having it laid out in front of me makes a difference.
Even what I wear is decided. Each album has a color, and I match it.
It’s one less decision.
It’s a uniform in the best way.
What almost made me leave the project before it began was my travel schedule.
Literally one week after launch, I was heading to Costa Rica for a music retreat. I had considered recording there, but there were too many unknowns. (Good call, too—I got about two minutes of internet a day.)
Two weeks later, I would be traveling to Disneyland on a band trip as a chaperone. That one would have been even trickier—I didn’t have any downtime.
So I considered starting on a different date.
And then I didn’t.
Instead, I changed the format of my project and figured out the travel logistics.
That’s when I discovered batch recording.
Each video is a full take—one song, recorded start to finish.
I release one every day for 100 consecutive days.
Recording ahead has made the travel possible—and the whole process so much less stressful.
What I didn’t expect was how much I would enjoy it.
There’s something really satisfying about recording a song I’m proud of—knowing I put in the time, worked through the rough spots, and gave it everything I had.
That part doesn’t feel like discipline.
It feels like momentum.
I used to think consistency was discipline.
Now I think it’s planning.
And the discipline is making time to plan—choosing songs, adjusting the order, giving them the attention they need so they feel ready when I sit down to record.
It’s less about pushing through, and more about setting things up so I can.
The hardest part isn’t doing the work.
It’s starting.
And that’s where that friction shows up.
Friction is anything that makes starting harder—too many decisions, too many steps, too much uncertainty.
So I’ve been working to remove as much of that as possible.
Batch recording.
Simple setups.
Fewer decisions.
A clear plan.
Not perfect.
Just easier to get begin.
And then there’s the bigger shift.
I trust that my best is good enough.
I know I’m my own toughest critic, and I don’t need to listen to that voice as much as I used to.
Last year, I got through this project on sheer will.
It was about getting to 100.
This year feels different.
I still accept what my best is on any given day—but I’m also aiming for something more.
Not perfection.
But a performance I’m proud of.
Taking the time to shape a song, to sit with it, to make it feel like mine before I record it.
Playing and singing into a microphone feels more natural now. I’m a year more seasoned than I was the last time I did this.
And the songs themselves feel different too.
I started this project with a catalog I had been building over time—songs that showed up in Aloha Fridays, open mics, and sets here and there.
By the time I got here, they were already part of me.
That’s what makes this easier.
Not that it takes no effort—
but that I’m not starting from zero anymore.
Somewhere along the way, this stopped feeling like something I was trying to do.
It just became something I do.
I don’t think there was a single moment where that changed.
It showed up gradually—in the way I set up without thinking, in the way I start playing without negotiating with myself first.
There’s less of that question now:
“Do I feel like it today?”
Not because every day is easy—
but because the decision has already been made.
This is part of my day.
This is part of who I am.
I think that’s the biggest shift.
Not that I’ve improved (though I have), and not that it’s easier (though it is),
but that I trust the process enough to keep going without needing to evaluate it every time.
Fifty days ago, this felt like something I was attempting.
Now it feels like something I belong to.
I’m not halfway through something.
I’m inside it now.
I know how to do this.
Not perfectly, and not without effort—
but in a way that feels steady.
Repeatable.
Mine.
There are still days that feel harder than others.
That hasn’t gone away.
But it doesn’t stop me in the same way anymore.
Because I’ve already done it fifty times.
That counts for something.
If anything, the first fifty days weren’t just about showing up.
They were about building something that makes showing up easier.
And now I get to keep going.
Identity didn’t arrive—
it accumulated.
One day at a time.
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