Create From Nothing This Year
Why the rules holding you back were learned and why you don’t need them now
Most of us started out resourceful.
As kids, we built entire worlds from imagination alone. We turned empty rooms and woods, long afternoons, and whatever we had on hand into stories and experiments that challenged us.
We didn’t wait for permission or the right setup to begin. We didn’t need credentials or certainty to do things. We didn’t care about success or approval.
We tried things simply because the urge to try showed up.
Then something changed.
We learned we could fail. We learned we could look foolish. We learned that effort could be judged. And eventually, we learned not to try at all unless we were confident it would work.
And over time, the rules crept in.
Don’t do that unless you’re good at it
Don’t start unless you know where it’s going
Don’t share until it’s polished
Don’t try unless you’re sure it’ll work
None of these rules are written down or said out loud. But as adults, we carry them everywhere — into our work, our fitness, our creative ideas, our plans for “someday.”
We convince ourselves we’re being careful and realistic, even pragmatic. Most of the time, though, we’re really just blocked by our own mess of internal rules.
As we start this new year, I want to offer an alternative way to approach effort and creativity. Create from nothing.
“You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.” — Maya Angelou
You’re Constrained By Rules You Didn’t Choose
Most people aren’t lacking good ideas. They just lack permission to act on them.
They want to write, but don’t feel allowed to make mistakes. They want to train, but don’t feel allowed to look new. They want to build something, but don’t feel qualified enough to begin.
So they hesitate, because acting would break a rule about how effort is supposed to look. They hold back because starting imperfectly feels irresponsible, embarrassing, or pointless.
What’s often happening isn’t laziness or fear of the work — it’s rule-following and fear of doing it “wrong”.
Rules like:
“If you’re going to do something, do it right.”
“If there’s nothing to show for it, what’s the point?”
“Stop wasting your time.”
“Be more practical.”
These rules sound reasonable on the surface, but they also shut things down fast.
Creating from nothing is a rejection of those rules and the idea that there’s a “right way” to do things.
Kids don’t ask whether something is worth doing. They try it and see what happens. That’s how action works before it’s filtered through expectations.
As adults, we learn to delay effort until it looks “correct”.
Why The Rules Feel Like Common Sense
The reason these rules are so hard to spot is that they were framed as responsibility.
Most of us didn’t grow up being told not to try things. We were told to be sensible. To be practical. To focus on what mattered. To spend time on things that would “go somewhere.”
Over time, those messages settled into a quiet internal logic about what effort should look like. It came from parents trying to help, schools trying to prepare us, workplaces rewarding efficiency, and a culture that treats usefulness as a moral value.
No one piece of advice feels cruel. Most of it feels reasonable in the right context.
That’s exactly the problem.
When effort is constantly framed through usefulness, outcomes, and appearances, permission becomes conditional.
Trying something just because you want to starts to feel frivolous.
Beginning without a clear payoff feels irresponsible.
Starting small feels like a failure of ambition rather than a normal entry point.
Over time, these ideas become the default definition of what “makes sense.”
You don’t think, “I’m not allowed to do this” as an adult. Instead, it shows up as self-talk that sounds reasonable.
You think, “This wouldn’t be smart.”
You think, “This doesn’t make sense right now.”
You think, “I should wait until it’s more serious.”
That’s how the rules disappear into the background. They stop feeling imposed on you and start feeling like your own judgment.
Nothing is forcing you to hold back, you’ve just learned to pre-filter your own effort, allowing only what feels acceptable to pass through.
By the time you notice the constraint, it already feels like your own voice.
Creation Works When You Remove the Rules
Creation as an action is less about talent and more about what the environment allows.
Kids create easily when playing because their environment allows it. There’s low cost, low expectation, and less judgment. As adults, we attach potential judgment to outcomes and protect our identity by avoiding imperfect starts.
If you want to create again, you need fewer constraints. That starts with giving yourself permission to ignore rules that aren’t helping you move. Rules like what “counts,” what looks serious enough, or what needs to lead somewhere specific.
Creation becomes possible when effort is allowed to exist without it needing to matter yet.
That’s how change starts, by loosening rules that no longer fit. It’s a deliberate choice to set aside expectations that shut momentum down early. Not all rules at once, and maybe not even forever — but enough to let effort show up without being evaluated immediately.
When effort doesn’t have to justify itself, experimentation becomes possible. Repetition follows naturally from that.
Rules shut this process down. Choosing which rules to ignore is what lets it work.
What Creating From Nothing Looks Like in Practice
Creating from nothing starts by choosing a starting condition where your usual rules don’t get a vote.
That means picking actions that are intentionally small and unaccountable, because they remove the pressure that normally shuts effort down. You’re re-establishing permission.
In practice, this looks like doing things without attaching them to outcomes, timelines, or identity.
You write something with no plan to keep it.
You move your body without logging it or explaining why it counts.
You explore an idea without deciding what it’s for or who it’s for.
The point isn’t secrecy. The point is removing importance and evaluation from early practice, and doing something just for the sake of doing it.
The most important shift in mindset is to stop asking whether something is worth doing and start asking whether it’s something you want to do. If the answer is yes, that’s enough to begin.
These small starts work because they separate action from identity. You’re no longer deciding what this means about you, your ability, or your seriousness. Without that identity stake, effort doesn’t need to be protected or justified.
Over time, these allowed starts rebuild trust in action itself, because they prove you don’t need permission or a full plan to begin. You just need a starting point that isn’t limited by rules that no longer serve you.
That’s what creating from nothing looks like in practice.
“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.” — Arthur Ashe
Creating from nothing is how you take control again.
It reminds you that action doesn’t need approval to begin. It’s how movement returns when effort has been stalled by rules. It’s how capacity builds without pressure driving every step.
This approach works because it lets you remove the filters that stop effort before it starts.
When rules shut effort down before it begins, the solution isn’t more effort — it’s starting in a way the rules can’t block.
It asks you to decide which rules are worth keeping, and which ones are getting in the way of what you want to create.
What would you try this year if starting didn’t have to be perfect?