The Half-Done Project

I opened a folder today and found seven side projects in various states of limbo: a half-written poem, an idea for a small app, a journal I never finished, a sketch I left mid-line. My chest tightens — that familiar tug of guilt, the "I should’ve finished that", the endless "maybe someday."

If you’ve ever carried around half-done things the half-painted canvas, the unfinished novel, the tasks you started but never shipped, you aren't alone. For many of us, "done" feels like a moving target, one we almost never hit. And yet, those in-between places where work is almost there, but not polished hold tension, possibility, and value.

This issue is for the half-done: the projects that hum in your brain, the open tabs, the sketches waiting for the next move. We'll talk about why "done" is a slippery illusion, how to re-touch what feels stalled (without pressure), and how half done isn’t shame. You won't finish everything (and you don't have to). But you might find rest, clarity, and magic in the almost.

What "Done" Even Means (and Why It Shifts)

We like to imagine "done” as a solid finish line: you cross it, tape breaks, confetti flies. But in reality, done is slippery. New ideas sneak in, standards shift, comparisons creep up. What "done" meant yesterday might feel raw or incomplete tomorrow.

And for many of us with neurodivergent brains, the cycles of energy, interest, and overwhelm make heavy finishing pushes fragile. Something that felt "complete" an hour ago might suddenly feel flawed. That is not failure. It’s part of working in flux.

So here’s a first shift: "done" is less a fixed state, more a moving horizon. You won’t always hit it. But you can lean toward it flexibly, kindly, without rigid pressure.

The Emotional Load of Half-Done

Half-done things carry emotional weight. Guilt. Shame. A buzzing "you should have" in your head. The unfinished draft, the open tab, the paused painting they echo.

You might feel judged (by yourself or others), stuck, or ashamed. Or you might tell yourself you’re "bad at finishing." But here’s something true: the heaviness you feel is not a moral score. It’s a signal. It’s telling you there’s something here worth revisiting or releasing.

Sometimes we avoid half-done things because we’re terrified they’ll expose that we weren't "good enough." But fear doesn’t have veto power. We can hear it, name it, and still take steps trembly ones, if we must.

Small Rituals to Re-Touch a Stalled Project

You don’t always need a marathon session. Sometimes half a step is more alive than standing still. Try:

• Timer poke set a 10- or 15-minute timer, open the project, change one thing (add a comment, shift a line, write a sentence).
• "Zero draft" mode let parts be messy, raw, unpolished. No pressure for beauty.
• Snapshot & note pause, observe: what feels confusing? What’s the tiniest next move you can take?
• Re-label it change "In Progress" to "Paused" or "Future Maybe." A label shift sometimes gives permission.

These small rituals help us bypass dread and low energy blocks.

Triage: What to Finish, What to Archive, What to Pivot

You can’t give energy to everything. You have to choose.

Ask:

• Impact Which projects bring you (or others) joy, meaning, connection?
• Feasibility Which ones are within reach right now?
• Emotion Which ones you want to return to (not just feel obligated)?

Then sort:

• Finish: small projects you can ship in one session
• Archive / pause: things not in priority (but not deleted just resting)
• Pivot or rethink: maybe the idea needs retooling before relaunch

Letting go is a skill. You can lovingly archive something and still be proud of what it taught you.

Lean Launches & Micro-Shipping

One antidote to "unfinished forever" is to ship small.

You don’t need total polish to launch. You just need function + meaning. A half-done version can still be usable, honest, and full of insight. Then you iterate, refine, expand.

This approach tells your brain: you are allowed to start, test, mess up, learn, improve. It closes loops rather than leaving echoes.

When "Half" Is Your Normal Mode and how to Live with It

If most of your work lives in half that’s okay. That might be your mode. Many creators, thinkers, and neurodivergent folks operate in bursts, drafts, edges.

Instead of fighting it, lean into it. Shift your identity: you’re not"“bad at finishing," you’re someone whose strength is experimentation and iteration.

Set boundaries and compassion: you will never finish everything and that’s okay. Define progress beyond “finished": did you learn? Did you move forward? Did you open possibility?

And give yourself rest rituals. When the half-done feels heavy, pause. Breathe. Return later.

Wrap & Call to Action

You may never finish every impulse, every idea, every sketch. But you can reach for one again, gently, with curiosity.

This week, pick one half-done thing. Spend five minutes on it no judgement, just touch. Maybe you polish a corner, rewrite a title, or decide it can rest for now.

Half done isn’t failure. It means you’re alive, thinking, creating in motion. Sometimes that motion is enough.

Thanks for sticking with me through this exploration of half-done worlds. Carrying in-between projects is messy, but it’s real work. You’ve glimpsed ideas, revived dormant edges, maybe felt some resistance loosening. That means something.

As you move forward, be on the lookout for grace in small steps, curiosity in messy corners, permission in your own timeline. You don't owe perfection. You owe your presence, your effort, your capacity to try. And sometimes, just poking something half done is its own triumph.

Next time you open that "limbo" folder or glance at a paused draft, pause not to judge, but to breathe. See if a spark beckons you forward (or lets you let it rest). You are authoring your own pace. You are enough as you wander this terrain

Until next issue: may your half-done projects carry light, may your mind feel seen, and may your imperfect motion feel meaningful

With softness & solidarity,

Simen + Echo