Sometimes One is Enough
One can be the beginning.
There’s a quiet kind of magic in “one.”
One word that finally comes after hours of doubt. One page that breaks the logjam. One subscriber who chooses to say, “I believe in this.” One person who reads all the way to the end.
Sometimes, one is enough to get us going again
.I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. It’s so easy it is to get swallowed by the vastness of what we want to build. The pressure to grow quickly, to be prolific, to constantly justify the time and effort of doing creative work. Especially when you’re trying, and still struggling, to make it a full-time thing.
There’s an ache that comes with putting so much into something and not knowing what, if anything, is coming back. It’s a quiet kind of loneliness, even when you believe in the work.
Or maybe especially then.
But recently, one person subscribed to this newsletter — a paid subscription — and I don’t know why exactly, but it hit me. It reminded me that it doesn’t always take a wave. At least, not right away. Sometimes it just takes a ripple.
One act of encouragement can reset your whole mindset. One gesture can carry enough weight to tip the balance from “Why bother?” to “Okay, just one more try.”
We talk so much about momentum like it has to be fast, like it has to roar. Which, yes, if nice. More than nice. But momentum can also whisper. It can be small and slow and steady. One is enough to build a rhythm. One is enough to begin.
That’s what I want to lean into this summer.
I keep saying I want to make the most of this time, not in some productivity-obsessed way, but in a real, grounded way. I want to write more. I want to feel like a writer, even if I’m still figuring out what that actually means. I want to keep showing up, online and off, even on days when the words don’t come easily or I don’t feel like I have anything at all to share.
I want to stop measuring my creative life by output and start measuring it by presence.
This summer, I want to live like the page matters. Like the hours I spend writing something no one might read still count. Because they do.
Deep down, I know that. Right?
I’ll be honest, however, I don’t always know how to keep going. Some days I seriously consider quitting. You know that, if you’ve stuck around. Not because I’ve stopped loving writing, but because the love alone doesn’t pay the bills, and the uncertainty can wear you down.
But then… One thing. One moment. One email. One idea that makes my chest feel warm. One person who says, “Hey, this meant something to me.”
And I remember, this is what makes it worth it. Not the viral post, not the five-figure following. Just the connection between my words and someone else's world.
Real and imaginary ones.
So if you’re here, I wanted to take this time to say thank you. Truly.
Whether you’re reading this from your inbox, or you stumbled across it online, or you’re that one person who hit “subscribe” when I needed it most, thank you.
You’re part of this. You are the ripple. The hope. I reminder.
And if you’re out there trying to create something too, a novel, a newsletter, a painting, a podcast, a life, I hope this reminds you that you don’t need an army of believers.
Sometimes you just need one.
One can be the beginning. One can be everything.
Here’s to a summer of ones.
