I have a small, nerdy tattoo. Just one word—Start—punctuated with a decimal and a bar over it, a subtle mathematical notation. To the average person, it might seem cryptic or minimalist. But to me, it’s a daily reminder of a principle that guides my life.
That bar over the word isn’t just decoration. In mathematics, it indicates a repeating decimal. Something ongoing. Eternal. Never fully complete. It was my way of saying to myself:
You don’t just start once. You start every single day.
This isn’t just a motivational mantra. It’s a philosophy—one I’ve learned the hard way, and one I try to return to when life becomes hard, overwhelming, exhausting, disheartening… START is one of my core first pricniples. A lens through which I see progress, ambition, growth, and identity.
The Illusion of the Grand Beginning
We’re seduced by the idea of beginnings. We mark Mondays, New Years, birthdays, and life transitions as moments to begin. There’s a romance to it—the fire of inspiration, the fresh planner, the perfect playlist, the new shoes for the gym. All the potential, the dreams, the goals are in front of us, waiting for us to seize the moment.
And on that first day, you do. You’re all in. You feel alive, motivated, determined. Ready to take on the world and prove something—maybe to yourself, maybe to others.
But what happens the next morning?
You wake up sore or mentally drained. The excitement has dimmed. That vibrant, colorful dream has suddenly gone black and white. Suddenly, the internal negotiations begin. “That was too much for one day, I’ll give myself a break and pick it back up tomorrow.” Tomorrow. The place that ambition and dreams go to die. The ultimate cope out.
The myth we buy into is that motivation should carry us. That a strong start guarantees momentum. But the truth is less glamorous and more uncomfortable:
Real change isn’t about the first day. It’s about the second. And the third. And the twenty-seventh.
It’s about whether you’re willing to start again, even when it’s the last thing you want to do.
Why Start is a First Principle
When I think about the word “start,” I don’t see it as a one-time ignition. I see it as an ongoing practice. A commitment to iteration. A nod to the long game.
This is what makes it a first principle—a foundation on which other behaviors, habits, and beliefs can rest.
Start.̅ is a mindset of consistency over intensity. Of resilience over novelty. It whispers, “You don’t need to be amazing today. You just need to begin again.”
It’s the antidote to perfectionism. The permission slip to take action without needing to control the outcome. And it’s the armor against the shame that so often accompanies “starting over.”
Because you’re not starting over. You’re just starting again. And that’s different.
Let’s make this real. The principle of Start.̅ shows up everywhere:
1. Creative Work
Whether you’re writing, painting, coding, or building a business, the hardest part is usually beginning. Not the grand vision—but opening the blank page. Sitting down. Making that first mark.
This is me when it comes to writing. Writing that first word, that first sentence, that first paragraph, can feel impossible in the moment. But once you begin, you find your flow, and you’re off to the races.
Start reminds you that creativity isn’t a single bolt of lightning—it’s accumulated momentum. One paragraph. One sketch. One push of a prototype at a time.
2. Fitness and Health
There’s a reason gyms are full in January and empty by March. People start with intensity. But intensity without consistency burns out quickly.
Start skips the all-or-nothing thinking. Didn’t work out yesterday? No problem—start today. Ate badly over the weekend? That was then—this is now.
Progress is rarely linear. But daily effort compounds.
3. Relationships
We drift in relationships—at home and at work, between friends and family. We assume the closeness will maintain itself. It doesn’t.
Start is a reminder to reach out, reconnect, say the hard thing, or express appreciation. Don’t let yourself off the hook just because you’ve ignored maintaining these relationships for so long.
Every day, you can choose to show up again.
Putting it into Practice
Philosophy is only useful when it’s lived. So here’s how you can bring the Start Principle into your life in a real, grounded way.
1. Anchor It to a Ritual
Choose something small you do each morning—coffee, brushing teeth, journaling—and use it as a trigger. Ask yourself, “What am I starting today?”
It doesn’t have to be something monumental. The point is to build momentum. Maybe it’s re-committing to focus. Or being present. Or eating better. But let it be conscious. And let it be a daily reminder.
2. Track Streaks—But With Grace
Start a habit tracker—but allow gaps. The point isn’t to never miss a day. The point is to never miss two in a row.
Build a rhythm that forgives missteps but rewards return. We’re human. There will be off days. There will be days that feel impossible. But that’s the beauty of Start—it doesn’t shame you for stopping. It nudges you back in.
3. Use Language to Your Advantage
Catch yourself when you say, “I have to go back to the gym” or “I need to start eating well again.” Reframe it: “I get to start today.” “I choose to begin again.”
Language carries energy. Make it your ally. Treat yourself with compassion.
4. Let Yesterday Be Yesterday
Don’t carry yesterday’s failures into today’s beginning. Don’t weigh down today’s potential with yesterday’s regret.
The beauty of the present is its neutrality. It doesn’t care what you did or didn’t do. It’s waiting for you to start. Focus on today and how you can take those steps to start again.
The Long Game
Start isn’t just about motivation. It’s about identity.
You’re not someone who finished a marathon—you’re someone who trains. You’re not someone who wrote a book—you’re someone who shows up to write. You’re not someone who figured it all out—you’re someone who keeps starting.
That’s what the bar over the word means. A loop. A pattern. A promise.
You start. Then you start again. And again. And again.
We live in a culture obsessed with finish lines—launches, outcomes, exits, abs. But what if the most powerful thing you could do wasn’t finishing? What if you reframe things to recognize there is no end. Not really.
There’s only an opportunity to begin again.
So if you’re feeling stuck, unmotivated, or ashamed of falling off the wagon—let that go.
Just start.