The Murky Middle Between “Starting” and “Sharing”

There’s a part of building something that no one really talks about.

It’s not the beginning. Beginnings get lots of attention. Our ideas are intriguing… we get offers of support… and we may even have the bonus of a blank canvas or clean workspace.

It’s not the ending. Finish lines are highly celebrated. Bands play… flags wave… and often times, somebody brought food.

The part I’m referring to is the middle. The part where things are abstract, inarticulate, scattered space. Not able to be fully appreciated. Definitely not yet able to be shared.

It’s impossible to not meet this space if you have any goal of seeing completion. As I write this, I’m surrounded by a dozen projects in varying states of almost-finished-ness.

And as a visionary grasping for something concrete to stabilize the tremulous feeling I’ve had from working on a dozen things at once, I made a graph. I compiled my stick-it notes, whiteboard sessions, and digital chaos… and legitimately measured how much I completed against how much I had to go.

Then I asked AI to make it look like tiny anthropomorphic fuzz-balls were working on it:

I’m pretty sure fuzz-balls are my mascots now.

This little breather helped a lot.

I’m not at all used to slowly and consistently working on multiple things at once. Throughout my formative years and early career, everything was project-based. I adopted the habit of pushing hard on one thing… barely eating… barely sleeping… until it was finished, then collapsing until a new task was assigned.

And up until recently, I never interpreted that cycle as a problem. I was low-key proud of my stamina.

Mental and physical exhaustion eventually caught up with me, though, to the point where “pacing” became my mantra and theme for this year. Small, daily action steps, with regular meals and a solid sleeping schedule. That’s what I’ve been practicing diligently for four months.

How’s it going?

I’m going nuts.

Every fiber of my being wants to find an AirBnB in the woods, live off of greek yogurt and salt-and-vinegar chips for three weeks, and power through that chart until all the fuzz-balls rejoice!

It is unbelievable how much restraint it’s taking to rewire my brain from feeling like I’m not moving fast enough. To tell myself that as slow as my progress feels, I can actually finish what I started. And that I can execute everything at the level I expect from myself.

I’m starting to see how to evolve my business differently. To see myself, differently. This space I’m in is not purgatory. My work isn’t doomed to be abandoned. It’s in construction. A quiet, unglamorous, sometimes frustrating construction. The murky middle between starting and sharing.

This beautiful space is where things get refined beyond the initial idea. Where architecture replaces urgency. Where something shifts from what we thought it should be to what it actually is or needs to be.

It may take longer than we like to admit. Especially if we care about the results.

We don’t talk about this part because it doesn’t photograph well. And yes… I’ve had several conversations with myself and others about the art of showing messy progress on social media. It’s still hard to get over the feeling that there’s nothing to announce yet. Nothing to link to yet. Nothing to hold in my hands yet.

But this is also the part that determines whether what we eventually share actually holds weight.

When I stop to consider… pause to assess… take a mental break to generate progress charts… it’s undeniable how far I’ve come.

I like to think I’m not alone when I’m going through seasons. So, if you’re like me, and you’re doing a lot of work, but don’t have exactly what you’d like to show for it yet…

You’re not wasting time.

You’re not working in vain.

You’re in the middle.

And the middle is where things evolve into what they’re meant to be. Even if no one else can see or appreciate the fuzzy construction workers but you.

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“Spider” Meka Hemmons is an international portrait photographer, speaker, and creator of Calm Before the Camera™—a confidence-centered system designed to help people feel safe being seen. Based in Chicago, she helps individuals and corporate teams build self-trust and presence without performance. For more reflections on business, visibility, and culture, follow the Spider on her podcast and newsletter.