Reflection on Today's Quote
You ever look at a huge goal and feel like, “There’s no way I can do this”? Like staring up at a mountain and wondering why you even brought hiking boots. That quote—“The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones”—isn’t just poetic. It’s a blueprint. And honestly, it’s a relief. Because it means no one’s asking you to move the whole mountain at once.
Think about it: the mountain isn’t going anywhere, but neither are you. And that’s the point. Progress isn’t loud. It’s not dramatic. It’s not a montage with uplifting music. It’s tiny, boring, ridiculous steps that don’t look like they’re doing much—until suddenly, you turn around and realize there’s a path where there used to be a wall.
The “small stones” are the habits, the emails, the early mornings, the awkward first tries, the not-quite-perfect drafts. They’re the days you show up even when motivation is missing in action. They’re the moments no one claps for but matter more than the ones they do.
The funny thing is, people often wait until they feel “ready” to take on big things. But readiness is overrated. Most people who do great things had no idea what they were doing at first. They just started picking up rocks.
So pick up a stone. Doesn’t matter how small. Doesn’t matter if someone else’s mountain looks prettier. Your mountain, your stones. And you? You’re stronger than you think.
Step Up To The Challenge
Pick one small “stone” you’ve been avoiding. Then move it. Just one.
It could be:
Answering that email that’s been haunting your inbox.
Writing the first sentence of a project you’ve been putting off.
Cleaning one corner of a cluttered room.
Making a 10-minute plan instead of waiting for a 10-hour block of inspiration.
Reaching out to someone you’ve been meaning to connect with.
Don’t overthink it. The smaller the better. The only rule? It has to be something you’ve been telling yourself you’ll “get to eventually.”
Once you move that one stone, pause. Notice that you just did something that used to be stuck. That’s the feeling to chase. That’s how mountains move.
Want to report back later? I’m here for the victory dance—even if it’s a tiny one. (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12)