I used to think creativity needed long, uninterrupted hours.
A quiet space. A clear mind. Time that stretched on without interruption. Time to finish a project to its completion, or at least time until I’m ready to move on.
I remember clearly a time when my life looked like that. But these days, I create in the margins. In small pockets of time between everything else. And I’m (slowly) learning that that’s enough.
Working in Small Windows
Most of my creative time happens in 15 minute to 2 hour blocks. That can sometimes feel frustrating, like I can never fully “get into it.”
But instead of asking myself: What project can I get done today?
I’ve started asking a different question: How can I move forward today?
Not everything. Just something.
Some days it’s sketching. Some days it’s refining one small section. Some days it’s writing newsletters. Some days it’s behind-the-scenes admin work that keeps me organized.
It all counts.
Choosing One Thing That Matters
When time is limited, I keep it simple: I choose one main priority.
It can be so easy to try to do everything, but instead, I just move forward. There are many questions I ask myself when considering what that looks like, including:
What project has the nearest timeline?
Do I have social media scheduled for the week?
How much time do I have today?
And then, I choose based on what fits that day. And I think it’s notable to mention that it’s important to me to follow a task through to completion, and I make sure I allocate the time so I’m not jumping around from task to task.
Focusing on one thing keeps me from feeling scattered, and helps me actually move forward efficiently.
Letting Go of “Perfect Time”
This has been the biggest shift. If I wait for the perfect moment to create or to work, I won’t do it often. So I’ve stopped waiting and simply started doing.
I start even if I feel a little distracted. I work even if I might get interrupted (I do have 3 kids, so that’s bound to happen A LOT).
It definitely doesn’t look perfect; it sometimes looks a little chaotic. Sometimes it means that I’m fighting to fit those 15 minutes in with spelling practice or seeing how fast my boy can run or getting the baby away from the dog food (again).
But it’s enough, because it’s still progress, no matter how small it may seem at times.
Small Time Still Builds Something Big
Creating this way is not this big monumental act, but it’s steady.
It’s showing up in small ways, over and over again. And those small efforts add up.
If you’re in a season where time feels limited, let this be a gentle reminder:
You don’t need a perfect schedule. You just need a place to start. Even a small pocket of time can hold something meaningful.



Thanks, Katie. I needed this today. Life is extra chaotic lately and focusing on anything for long is hard on a good day for this ADHDer. But you’re right, even small blocks of time can move us forward.