The Weight of Almost
“I almost finished that project.” “I almost sent that email.” “I almost started that habit.”
Almost is the heaviest word in the English language. It carries the full weight of intention without any of the relief of completion. We collect almosts like stones in our pockets, wondering why each step feels harder. This coming from someone who has a bin full of literal stones that I collected on various travels over the years.
I have continuously increasing notes saved with bits and pieces of might be eventual articles or projects. Draft blog posts, half-edited photos, business ideas sketched but never researched or fully executed. Each file represents energy spent and momentum lost. Going back through them feels like visiting a graveyard of good intentions.
The cruelest part about almost is how it masquerades as progress. We tell ourselves we’re closer than before, that the work is still valuable, that we’ll return to it soon. Meanwhile, the half-finished projects compound into a paralyzing inventory of unfinished business.
What I’m learning to do instead: finish badly rather than almost perfectly. Send the imperfect email. Publish the rough draft. Complete the minimum viable version.
Done is its own form of perfect. Almost is just another word for stuck.
The weight lifts immediately when you cross the finish line, even if you’re limping. Almost never gets lighter, only heavier.