Why the First Step Feels Pointless But Changes Everything

How 'Domino Brain' keeps you stuck, and the simple drill to break free

Photo by Anne Nygård on Unsplash

You know that heart-sinking and frustrating feeling.

You’re staring at the thing you should do - delegating that task, starting that proposal, sending that awkward email - and it feels… too small.

Too basic.

Not clever or significant enough to bother with.

You tell yourself you’re waiting for the right moment, the right plan, the right conditions.

Surely it can’t be this simple to kick things off.

You find ways to try and justify a more complex solution.

But really, you’re paralysed by the big picture and the fear of getting it “wrong.”

The Domino Brain strikes back

When I first wrote about Domino Brain in January 2024, I described this in essence:

““We don’t move until we can see the whole pattern lined up perfectly - until it feels worth knocking the first tile over. Until then, we keep finding distractions and delays.”

That was me later, sitting on my sitting room floor, surrounded by folders, books, and notes trying to finalise my Art-based Coaching Diploma dissertation submission in one heroic sprint.

It felt like if I couldn’t see all the pieces fitting together, there was no point starting.

So I didn’t.

For a few months!

Until my supervisor asked:

"What’s the smallest thing you could do today? It doesn’t have to be big"

I scribbled in my notebook:

List one entry into your coaching log. You’ve got a version of the list in Excel anyway so just start somewhere.

That one tiny act broke the stuckness loop.

Once I moved and acted, my brain stopped resisting, started adjusting, and the evidence compilation began at last.

It’s a procrastination trap!

One of the hardest places this Domino Brain pattern shows up is at work, especially when what you’re working with is already flawed.

After a tense exec escalation meeting about our sub-optimal procure-to-pay system, I was tasked with compiling and releasing an updated vendor list.

The system’s being replaced, but in the meantime, we’re stuck keeping the old one limping along, under the watchful eye of a senior manager who’s already vetoed our previous recommendations.

They also keep escalating instead of reaching out directly for updates.

Helpful.

Because of how politically charged it all felt, I kept obsessing over getting the list and email “fully right” before sending it.

Every time I opened the draft email, I tweaked, froze, or pushed it down the priority list.

Too messy. Too unfinished.

And then the inevitable happened a few days ago: the exec emailed, bluntly.

"We’re still waiting for the list, despite chasing. Your team is proving to be slow. Let me know when we’ll get it."

It stung - because it was partly true (although I had shared a holding response).

But also, because it ignored the pressure we were under and the fact I had the information; I just hadn’t let it go.

I realised I’d been overthinking and perfecting because my Domino Brain was busy simulating every possible outcome.

Trying to protect me and the team from another escalation.

Ironically, my inaction created exactly the problem I was trying to avoid.

Frick!

In the end, my boss stepped in to manage the politics while I focused on moving the next piece forward.

Imperfectly but faster.

It was another bl**dy reminder of what I keep relearning everywhere - in work, in life, in grief, in creativity:

Trying to perfect it to avoid discomfort only guarantees a bigger mess later.

Progress starts with an imperfect move.

The wisdom and the mess

Over the years, whether publishing my first article, launching a creative workshop, or picking up the pieces after grief, I’ve learned the same thing:

The first step is rarely impressive.

It’s scrappy.

It’s messy.

Sometimes embarrassing.

Mostly underwhelming.

Always smaller than my ego thinks it should be after the intense build up.

But it’s also the only step I actually control.

You can’t perfect your way into progress.

But you can stumble into it by moving imperfectly.

You don’t need to outsmart the stuckness.

You just need to outmove it.

Permission not required

Here’s the part that still trips me up sometimes: I wait.

I wait for someone else to tell me it’s OK to start.

For the conditions to be perfect.

For a plan so flawless it can’t possibly fail.

But nobody’s coming.

Perfectionism is just procrastination dressed up as high standards.

Nobody cares if your first move is good enough.

They just care you made it.

You don’t need the blueprint.

You don’t need applause.

You just need to take the smallest, messiest, most pointless-feeling step, and let the rest catch up.

Why your brain hates small steps

If you’re a high performer, over-functioner, or perfectionist, you’re not avoiding the first step because you’re lazy.

You’re avoiding it because your brain is running an outdated prediction loop -overestimating the effort and undervaluing the reward.

Predictive coding theory suggests the brain constantly predicts outcomes based on experience, then compares those predictions to incoming evidence.

When you’re stuck, your brain predicts that nothing will change, or worse, that trying will confirm failure, and discounts the value of acting.

What’s the point, really?

On top of that, the Effort–Reward Imbalance (ERI) model shows that when the reward feels uncertain or small, the perceived cost of effort spikes.

Those of us with an “overcommitment” tendency (hello!) are especially prone to this mismatch.

That’s what makes a small, imperfect step feel pointless. Even when you know it isn’t.

The most annoying paradox.

A 2020 Nature Reviews Neuroscience paper highlights how the anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) weighs the costs of switching strategies and initiating effortful behaviour.

During decision-making, the ACC encodes the average value of exploring alternatives, shaped by recent reward history, and helps you decide whether to persist or pivot.

When uncertainty is high, it biases you toward inaction to conserve energy, which protects your body budget but risks missing the cues and deadlines that actually move you forward.

Here’s the critical (and surprisingly hopeful) bit:

Movement generates new evidence, which updates predictions and recalibrates the perceived reward of further action.

When I finally send the vendor list, it won’t fix the office politics, but it will prove to my brain (and everyone else’s) that progress is possible without perfection.

It will also reset my reward history with fresh data about which efforts moved the needle and which didn’t.

Exploring outcomes has its place. But there’s a fine line between being prepared enough and over-preparing yourself into paralysis.

Do this: The first domino drill

If you’re frozen right now, try this:

Awareness:

What’s the smallest step I could take today, even if it feels silly and insufficient?

Write it down.

Reconnection:

Why does this matter to me, beyond just ticking a box?

Link it to your core values and legacy impact if that helps.

What are the costs of NOT taking action now?

Containment:

What would make this feel safe and doable in the next 24 hours?

Lower the stakes until you can say, “Fine. I can at least do that.”

Then do it, even (especially) if it feels too small to matter.

Key takeaways

Your brain resists small steps because it can’t yet predict they’ll help, especially if you bias your assessments with negative perceptions and thoughts.

Predictive coding means you won’t feel ready until after you move but your brain uses evidence to shift patterns.

Taking action provides evidence, which updates the prediction loop.

And it's OK that creativity and courage both start in small, scrappy moves.

Imperfect action is still better than no action.

Evidence breeds confidence.

The first step feels pointless precisely because your brain hasn’t seen it work - yet.

So, give it something to mull over and absorb, no matter how small.

It all counts.

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P.S. And if you want help finding and tipping that first domino, and the next ones, my coaching exists for exactly this kind of stuck-but-smart brain. Message me if you’re ready to move.