It’s been about four months since I left my job in tech. In that time, I haven’t done any hardcore technical work. I needed to recover from years of constant pressure (often self-imposed) and the ever-present fear that my livelihood depended on being technically good enough. With those worries, I couldn’t truly enjoy the work or appreciate the creativity behind it.

I did build this blog, though. The process wasn’t technically challenging, and that was intentional. I wanted a place to write publicly without getting bogged down fighting with technology, but also where I owned both the data and the code. Using Bridgetown, a Ruby-based static site generator, was a huge win. Writing again, after decades of not doing it, has helped me process and share my thoughts and feelings and reminded me how much I love writing.

Now, I’m ready to get back into tech, but on my own terms. I have ideas, and I want to build something. Unfortunately, procrastination is the Devil on my shoulder. The thought of building something big and meaningful is overwhelming. Even scarier is the idea of actually wanting others to use it. For that dream to happen, I’d have to actually ship it in some form and then figure out how to connect it with an audience. These fears lead to inaction.

The book I’m currently reading, Meditations for Mortals, suggests reframing challenges by asking, “What if it’s easy?” Could being more optimistic help me move forward?

I took the first step and began building an app from scratch using Ruby on Rails, a technology I know better than any other. But on day one, I hit unexpected roadblocks. It was a harsh reminder that tech is hard, messy, and unpredictable. Pretending it would be easy wasn’t realistic, but all is not lost. Momentum and consistent action can still move me forward.

Building something meaningful isn’t a sprint. It’s a marathon. It requires toughness, resilience, and patience. There will always be challenges, but when you push through and things finally work, the payoff is worth it.

Despite how challenging tech can be, is there a way to reframe it as “easy”? Perhaps. I’ve started viewing it as a creative process rather than a technical test. No one is grading my skills anymore. Time is on my side. No one cares if I’m slow. It’s okay if progress is gradual but steady.

This shift in perspective is liberating. It’s helping me focus on the joy of building, one challenge at a time, without the weight of unnecessary pressure, self-imposed or otherwise. And maybe, just maybe, it really can be easy in the grand scheme of things. And maybe if I let myself dream that scary dream, I’ll eventually use it and so will others.