Everyone wants momentum.

But few realize it comes from process. Not passion nor pressure.

Velocity isn't a byproduct of brute force. It's the child of repetition.

The principles of process are this: pick one, practice it for a period, adjust. That simple.

When I write music, I say: I'm going to write a song -- here's my process: I pick a theme, I write a bunch of words for 5 minutes related to that theme, I pick up the guitar and get a 4-bar loop of chords, I sing whatever comes to mind using those words. That process gives me a way to begin—no floundering in the how.

The beauty of process is that it crosses disciplines. When I code a new feature, I don’t want to deliberate every time where the files go or how the style should look. That’s not creativity. That’s friction.

We need mise en place. We need a factory. A system that gets out of the way.

We don’t reinvent the whole system every time. We use the system so we can make the thing.

Without process, we make a mess. And that’s not a bad thing—mess is often where the process reveals itself.

But mess doesn’t scale. It teaches, exposes, and sparks—but it doesn’t move fast.

Proliferation needs process. Otherwise, the artist is stuck finding ways to make rather than making.

Next time you create, find the repeatable parts. Codify them. Commit to them—for a week, a month, a quarter. Doesn’t matter.

What matters is the commitment.

The process only works if you stay with it. That’s how momentum builds.

That commitment will reveal what doesn't work. Cracks will show up. Then you can patch. You can discover a new process.

Just pick. Commit. That’s how momentum begins.