Why Songwriters Overthink And Over-complicate Their Songwriting Process (And How To Avoid It)

Songwriting is one of those pursuits where inspiration can strike like lightning… or not at all.

You sit down, ready to pour your heart onto the page, and suddenly there’s crickets. You second-guess every word, fiddle endlessly with the chords, and somehow convince yourself that unless your song could win a Grammy, it’s not worth finishing. Sound familiar?

If it does, you’re not alone. Songwriters often fall into the trap of overthinking and over-complicating the process. And I get it, there’s a lot riding on a song. It’s not just words and melodies; it’s you, your thoughts, your stories, your emotions. That’s why it’s so easy to get caught up in perfectionism or spiral into indecision.

I certainly remember a time when I was trying to write a song that captured a bittersweet memory from my past. I agonised over every line, convinced that one wrong word would ruin the entire piece. What should’ve taken me a few hours turned into weeks of circling back to the same verses and choruses.

And the kicker? When I finally played it live, the simplest lines, the ones I almost scrapped, were what resonated most with the audience.

In this post, we’re going to dig into the ways songwriters overthink and complicate their craft, and more importantly, how to break free from that cycle.

Whether you’re struggling with perfectionism, paralysed by comparisons, or stuck in a loop of endless rewrites, I’ll show you how to let go, trust your instincts, and finish songs that feel true to you because after all, some of the most beloved songs in history are deceptively simple, but packed with heart.

So, let’s dive in and discover how you can simplify the songwriting process without losing the magic.

Chasing Perfection Too Early

Songwriting often feels like walking a tightrope, you want every step to be graceful, but if you overthink it, you freeze mid-stride.

One of the biggest pitfalls songwriters face is trying to make their song perfect from the very first draft. It’s that nagging voice in your head whispering, “Is this really good enough?” The problem is, perfectionism doesn’t just slow you down, it can stop you in your tracks.

I once spent an entire afternoon trying to craft the “perfect” opening line for a song. I played with metaphors, swapped out adjectives, and even resorted to Googling “poetic ways to say lonely.”

The result? I had a dozen half-finished lines and zero momentum. In hindsight, I wasn’t writing, I was editing before I even had anything solid to work with.

The truth is that first drafts are supposed to be messy, awkward and mostly crap. Some of the best songwriters in the world will tell you that their early versions of songs were rough, and full of filler. Paul McCartney’s “Yesterday” started as “Scrambled Eggs.” Let that sink in.

But when we chase perfection too early, we’re treating our creative process like it’s fragile, as if one “bad” line will break the whole song. Instead, what if we treated our songwriting process like a sculptor treats their clay? You don’t carve intricate details into it until you’ve shaped the basic form.

How to Stop Chasing Perfection:

• Give Yourself Permission to Write Badly: Tell yourself it’s okay if the first version is clunky. You’re building the foundation, decorating comes later.
• Set a Timer: Give yourself 10-15 minutes to write without stopping, no matter what. You’ll be amazed at how much you can create when you silence your inner critic.
• Adopt a “Fix It Later” Mantra: Anytime you’re tempted to pause and revise mid-sentence, remind yourself: This isn’t the final version, it’s just the map.

By separating the writing phase from the editing phase, you give yourself the freedom to experiment without judgement. Your first draft doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to exist. Once you have something down, you can refine it into the masterpiece it’s meant to be.

Remember, songs aren’t born perfect; they’re shaped, moulded, and polished over time. But they can’t be polished if you never let yourself write that rough first draft.

Overloading with Too Many Ideas

If you’ve ever tried to pack every brilliant idea you’ve ever had into one song, you’re not alone. It’s tempting, especially when inspiration strikes in all directions. You think, “Why not combine this metaphor about sunsets with that quirky story about my childhood, and oh! I’ll throw in that killer chord progression I’ve been saving!”

But instead of creating a masterpiece, you end up with a jumbled song that feels more like a chaotic collage than a cohesive story. When there are too many ideas competing for attention, the heart of the song, the message, gets lost.

I learned this the hard way with a song I wrote about nostalgia. I started with a simple concept: that bittersweet feeling of returning to a hometown that’s stayed the same while you’ve changed. But somewhere along the way, I decided to weave in a subplot about old friendships and a metaphor involving a dusty record collection.

By the time I finished, the song felt like three different stories trying to share the same tiny apartment. My listeners didn’t know where to focus, and honestly, neither did I.

Why We Do This:

• We fear wasting a good idea, thinking, “If I don’t use it now, I’ll forget it.”
• We feel pressure to make every song as rich and layered as possible.
• We equate “more ideas” with “better songs,” even though that’s rarely the case.

How to Avoid Overloading Your Song:

• Stick to One Core Theme: Ask yourself, “What’s the heart of this song?” If an idea doesn’t support that core theme, save it for another song.
• Create an Idea Bank: Keep a notebook or a digital file where you can store your “extra” ideas. Just knowing they’re saved for later can help you resist the urge to cram them all into one song.
• Trust Simplicity: Remember, some of the most impacting songs in history focus on a single emotion or moment. “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen doesn’t try to tell five stories at once, it draws you in with its simplicity and lets the listener fill in the blanks.

When you simplify, you’re not “losing” anything, you’re giving your song room to breathe. And here’s the bonus: by saving your unused ideas, you’re setting yourself up for future songs. In a way, each focused song you finish becomes the seed for the next one.

The goal isn’t to fit everything into one masterpiece. The goal is to let one idea shine, and trust that the rest of your ideas will find their time to shine too.

Second-Guessing the Hook or Melody

There’s nothing more frustrating than coming up with a melody or hook, only to second-guess it moments later. You hum it a few times and then that critical voice creeps in: “Is this catchy enough? Does it sound too much like something else? Is this the kind of hook people will remember?” Before you know it, you’ve scrapped an idea that might’ve been great, or worse, you’ve started over so many times that you’ve lost the creative spark altogether.

I remember one particular session where I wrote what I thought was a killer chorus. It was simple, uplifting, and had that sing-along vibe. But the longer I sat with it, the more doubts surfaced. “Maybe it’s too simple… or too cheesy.” I ended up shelving it out of fear it wasn’t “cool” enough. Months later, I was listening to a hit song on the radio with a similar vibe and thought, “Wait a second… I had something just like this.” The difference? They didn’t overthink it, they trusted it.

Why We Second-Guess:

• We’ve been conditioned to believe that hooks and melodies have to be groundbreaking to be effective.
• Fear of sounding unoriginal makes us obsessively compare our work to other songs.
• We want the instant dopamine hit that tells us, “Yes, this is genius!”, but songwriting doesn’t always work that way.

How to Trust Your Hook and Melody:

• Give It a Day: After writing a hook or melody, step away and revisit it later with fresh ears. Often, what felt mediocre in the moment can sound much better after a break.
• Test It Out: Play your hook for a trusted friend or collaborator. Sometimes, hearing someone else’s reaction can give you the perspective you need.
• Embrace Simplicity: Many iconic melodies, think “Imagine” by John Lennon or “Seven Nation Army” by The White Stripes, are incredibly simple. They work because they’re memorable, not because they’re complex.

At its core, a good melody isn’t about impressing people, it’s about making them feel something. Whether it’s joy, sadness, or nostalgia, if your melody stirs emotion, it’s doing its job. And remember: if you’ve got a hook that keeps popping into your head, there’s a good chance it will stick with others too.

The key is to give yourself permission to believe in your ideas. Not every hook will be a “stairway to heaven” moment, but even simple, heartfelt melodies can become unforgettable when you trust them enough to see them through.

Getting Too Technical

Have you ever found yourself knee-deep in music theory during a songwriting session, obsessing over whether the bridge needs a borrowed chord or if that seventh inversion will make the song more “sophisticated”? It’s easy to fall into this trap, especially if you’ve spent time studying music or analysing your favourite artists. But here’s the thing: most listeners won’t care how many augmented chords you’ve used, they’ll care how the song makes them feel.

I once co-wrote with a friend who was classically trained and loved experimenting with complex time signatures and harmonic progressions. Midway through writing, I noticed we’d spent 30 minutes debating whether to switch from 4/4 to 7/8 in the final chorus. The result? We lost sight of the emotional arc of the song. What should’ve been a poignant anthem turned into a maths problem set to music.

Why We Overthink the Technical Side:

• We want to stand out and avoid being predictable.
• We’re afraid of sounding “basic” or too commercial.
• We feel the need to showcase our musical chops, especially when we admire technically brilliant songwriters.

How to Avoid Getting Bogged Down by Complexity:

• Ask: “Is This Serving the Song?” Every decision, whether it’s a chord progression, modulation, or time signature shift, should enhance the emotion and flow of the song, not complicate it for complexity’s sake.
• Embrace Simplicity as a Strength: Some of the world’s most impactful songs use simple structures. Bob Dylan’s “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” sticks to just four chords, and it’s still hauntingly powerful.
• Experiment Later: If you’re tempted to add technical flourishes, try writing a basic version first. Once you’ve nailed the core message, you can add embellishments without losing focus.

Songwriting isn’t a competition to see who can use the most intricate chord voicings or polyrhythms. The goal is to communicate something meaningful. A beautifully simple melody with a straightforward chord structure can move someone to tears, while an over-engineered song can leave them feeling nothing.

The irony is that even when songs sound “effortless,” there’s often skill behind their simplicity, it’s just skill in service of the story, not showing off. So, the next time you’re tempted to swap in a diminished ninth chord just because you can, take a step back and ask: Does this make the song better, or just busier?

Trying to Reinvent the Wheel

Every songwriter dreams of writing something unique, something so fresh and original that listeners stop in their tracks and say, “I’ve never heard anything like this before!” But in the pursuit of innovation, it’s easy to slip into over-complication. You twist your song’s structure, add unexpected key changes, and avoid common rhyme schemes, all in the name of being different. And yet, sometimes the result isn’t innovative, it’s just confusing.

I learned this the hard way when I set out to write a “boundary-pushing” song that avoided anything remotely familiar. I ditched the verse-chorus-verse format, added an asymmetrical time signature, and packed the lyrics with abstract imagery. When I finally played it for someone, they paused and said, “It’s… interesting?” (Pro tip: if someone calls your song “interesting,” that’s not the compliment you’re hoping for.) What I thought was original felt disjointed to the listener. Instead of creating something bold and memorable, I’d created a song that was hard to follow.

Why We Try to Reinvent the Wheel:

• We’re afraid of being seen as predictable or cliché.
• We want to stand out in a crowded music landscape.
• We admire artists who broke the mold and want to replicate that sense of uniqueness.

How to Avoid Reinventing for Reinvention’s Sake:

• Embrace Familiar Frameworks: There’s a reason the verse-chorus-bridge structure is so common, it works. Think of the structure as scaffolding that holds up your creativity rather than a cage that limits it.
• Focus on Authenticity Over Originality: Instead of forcing your song to be different, let it be yours. Your perspective, your phrasing, and your experiences will naturally make it unique.
• Remember the Listener’s Experience: Ask yourself, “Will this take the listener on an emotional journey or just leave them confused?” Songs like “Bohemian Rhapsody” are unique but still tell a clear emotional story.

Many of the most original artists didn’t set out to be revolutionary, they set out to be honest. The Beatles didn’t reinvent rock music by trying to be different for the sake of it; they wrote what felt right, even when it broke the rules. The result? Innovation born from authenticity, not from chasing uniqueness.

The key takeaway? You don’t have to reinvent the wheel to create something meaningful. Sometimes, the most groundbreaking thing you can do is write a simple, honest song and trust that your truth is fresh enough.

Overthinking Lyrics for Depth

Lyrics are the heart of any song, the place where raw emotion meets storytelling. So, it’s no wonder that many songwriters become obsessed with making their lyrics profound and poetic. But in the quest for “deep,” we sometimes end up with something convoluted instead. We layer metaphors on top of metaphors, reaching for clever wordplay, and suddenly the song sounds more like a riddle than a reflection.

I’ll never forget a song I wrote early in my career that was packed with symbolism. I was trying to capture the feeling of heartbreak, but instead of saying anything straightforward, I wrote lines like “the glass butterfly crumbles under crimson weight.” When I played it for a friend, they furrowed their brow and said, “Wait… what does that mean?” I was devastated. I thought I was writing something powerful, but I’d written something impenetrable instead.

Why We Overthink Lyrics:

• We feel pressure to be poetic, fearing that simple language will come off as uninspired.
• We assume that “deep” means obscure or complex.
• We want to impress other songwriters, not just connect with listeners.

How to Avoid Overthinking Your Lyrics:

• Tell It Plainly First: Before reaching for metaphors, try writing out what you want to say in simple terms, like you’re explaining it to a close friend. This becomes the emotional “blueprint” for your lyrics.
• Use One Strong Image Instead of Many: A single vivid image is more powerful than a string of metaphors. For example, in “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman, the line “You’ve got a fast car / Is it fast enough so we can fly away?” is simple but packed with longing and escapism.
• Ask Yourself: “Would I Say This Out Loud?” If a line feels unnatural or overly complex, it might be worth simplifying. Lyrics can be poetic, but they should still sound human.

Some of the most moving lyrics are the simplest ones: “I can’t make you love me if you don’t” (Bonnie Raitt) or “Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away” (The Beatles). These lines aren’t drowning in metaphors, they’re powerful because they speak directly to universal feelings.

The truth is, listeners don’t connect with cleverness, they connect with honesty. When you let go of the need to sound profound and focus on being real, you’ll often find that your lyrics naturally become meaningful. After all, the deepest truths are often the simplest ones.

Obsession with Comparisons

Comparing your songs to others can be both inspiring and paralysing. On the one hand, listening to great songwriters can push you to improve your craft. On the other, it can make you spiral into doubt. You hear a hit song and think, “I’ll never write something that good,” or worse, “My melody sounds too much like this, people will think I copied it.” What started as inspiration becomes intimidation.

I remember writing a piano ballad I was proud of, until I played it back-to-back with one of Adele’s tracks. Suddenly, my heartfelt song felt amateurish in comparison. I spent the rest of the day dissecting her arrangement, her phrasing, and her lyrics, trying to figure out why mine didn’t “measure up.” By the time I was done, I was too discouraged to finish my own song. The irony? Adele didn’t write “Someone Like You” by comparing herself to others, she wrote it by trusting her own voice.

Why We Fall into the Comparison Trap:

• We idolize certain artists and feel our work has to be on their level immediately.
• The accessibility of music streaming makes it easier than ever to compare our songs to thousands of others.
• Social media amplifies success stories, making us feel like everyone else is miles ahead.

How to Break Free from Comparison Paralysis:

• Limit Your Listening: When you’re in the middle of writing a song, try taking a break from listening to other music in the same genre. This creates a clearer mental space for your own ideas to develop.
• Remind Yourself of the Process, Not Just the Product: That polished song you admire went through its own messy drafts and revisions. You’re comparing your “work-in-progress” to someone else’s final version.
• Celebrate Your Uniqueness: No one else has your exact experiences or perspective. Instead of trying to sound like your favorite artist, lean into the things that make your voice and style different.

One of the hardest lessons to learn as a songwriter is this: your voice doesn’t have to compete with anyone else’s. Some of the most unforgettable songs are memorable precisely because they broke away from trends and expectations. When you compare yourself too much, you risk losing what makes your music yours.

So, the next time you catch yourself thinking, “This isn’t as good as [insert famous artist],” remind yourself that their journey is different from yours. Write the song that only you can write, and let your heroes inspire you rather than intimidate you.

Fear of Repetition

There’s a fine line between creating something memorable and something repetitive. Many songwriters tiptoe around this line, terrified of being labeled as “boring” or “predictable.” So, instead of leaning into repetition as a tool for catchiness, they overcorrect, avoiding repeated phrases, rhyme schemes, or chord progressions at all costs. The result? Songs that can feel aimless or forgettable because they’re missing that essential hook or emotional anchor.

I remember working with a songwriter who had an amazing chorus, catchy, emotional, and memorable. But she was afraid to repeat the same line more than once, thinking it would make the song too “commercial.” So, she kept swapping out the phrasing and changing the melody slightly. By the end, the chorus felt like a string of unrelated thoughts rather than a refrain that listeners could latch onto.

Why We Avoid Repetition:

• We associate repetition with laziness or lack of creativity.
• We worry about sounding like we’re copying overused songwriting tropes.
• We’re trying to prove that we can do more, write more complex lyrics or surprise people with unexpected changes.

Why Repetition is Actually Powerful:

• It Creates Familiarity: Repetition makes a song feel familiar and comforting, even upon first listen. Think of “Hey Jude” by The Beatles, repeating “na-na-na” for minutes might seem excessive on paper, but in practice, it became iconic.
• It Amplifies Emotion: Repeated phrases can heighten emotion, making the listener feel the weight of a line. For example, in Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You,” the repeated “I will always love you” drives home the heartache and finality.
• It’s Memorable: Most listeners remember choruses and key phrases, not intricate verses. Repetition anchors those moments in their minds.

How to Embrace Repetition Without Feeling Stuck:

• Use Callbacks: Repeating a line from the verse or bridge in the chorus can give the song a satisfying sense of cohesion.
• Add Subtle Variation: You can repeat a phrase but change the delivery, add a harmony, alter the dynamics, or slightly tweak the melody to keep it fresh.
• Think of Repetition as a Strength, Not a Shortcut: Remember, repetition doesn’t mean redundancy. It’s a deliberate way to reinforce the song’s theme and leave a lasting impression.

Listeners often fall in love with the lines they can sing along to, the ones that echo in their heads long after the song is over. So don’t be afraid to let your best lines breathe and repeat. Sometimes, what you’re tempted to hold back is the exact thing that will make your song unforgettable.

Trying to Write the Entire Song at Once

Have you ever sat down with the expectation that the whole song lyrics, melody, chords, and all, should magically come together in one sitting? You’re not alone. Many songwriters fall into the trap of thinking that if the song doesn’t “flow” perfectly from start to finish, it’s a sign that the idea isn’t strong enough. But this mindset is like trying to bake a cake and decorate it at the same time, it’s messy, stressful, and usually leads to frustration.

I used to believe that a song wasn’t “real” until I could play the full thing in one uninterrupted take. I’d sit there, guitar in hand, feeling overwhelmed as I tried to piece together verses, choruses, and bridges simultaneously. The pressure to make everything fit perfectly killed my creativity. Instead of feeling inspired, I felt stuck. It wasn’t until I allowed myself to build songs in layers that I finally felt free again.

Why We Try to Write Everything at Once:

• We want the “lightning bolt” moment where the entire song reveals itself in one burst of inspiration.
• We assume that strong ideas should come fully formed.
• We fear losing momentum if we don’t finish it all at once.

How to Avoid This Trap:

• Break It into Stages: Start with what comes easiest, whether that’s the melody, the chord progression, or a rough lyrical sketch. Let the rest unfold piece by piece.
• Give Yourself Permission to Leave Blanks: It’s okay to leave placeholders like “something about regret here” and come back to it later. Sometimes, stepping away helps you find the right words or ideas.
• Layer, Don’t Lump: Think of your song as a sculpture, you shape the big parts first, then gradually refine the details.

A Song in Progress Isn’t a Song in Trouble: Some of the most well-known songs in history didn’t come together all at once. Bruce Springsteen famously spent months writing and rewriting “Born to Run,” tweaking small sections one at a time. Allowing your song to grow and evolve prevents burnout and gives you the space to find the magic in unexpected places.

When you stop expecting the entire song to arrive fully assembled, you’ll free yourself from that crushing weight of “instant brilliance.” Some songs will come quickly, but most will require a step-by-step approach. And that’s not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign that you’re letting the song breathe and become what it’s meant to be.

Fear of Finishing

Sometimes, the hardest part of writing a song isn’t starting, it’s finishing. You get 90% of the way there, but instead of calling it done, you keep tweaking that last verse, swapping out words, or adding new vocal harmonies. Why? Because finishing feels final, and once the song is “done,” it’s open to judgement, by yourself and others.

I’ve had songs sit on my hard drive for months, unfinished, not because they weren’t good, but because I was scared to declare them complete. There’s a strange comfort in keeping a song “in progress.” As long as it’s not done, it can’t be judged. But here’s the thing, an unfinished song is just a potential masterpiece that no one will ever hear.

Why We’re Afraid to Finish:

• Fear of failure: “What if people don’t like it?”
• Fear of imperfection: “What if I missed something that could’ve made it better?”
• Fear of closure: Once a song is finished, it represents a part of your life or emotions that you may not want to let go of.

How to Overcome the Fear of Finishing:

• Set a Deadline: Give yourself a realistic timeline to finish the song, even if it’s just for yourself. Deadlines create a sense of accountability.
• Let Go of Perfection: Accept that no song will ever feel 100% “perfect.” Even iconic songs had flaws their creators wanted to fix, but they were released anyway, and they became beloved for their imperfections.
• Share a Draft Before You’re Ready: Sometimes, getting feedback from someone you trust can help you see that the song is already in a good place. It’s easier to move forward when you know you’re not alone in the creative process.

Why Finished is Better than Perfect:
Think of how many songs the world would’ve missed if their creators kept them in draft mode forever. Imagine if Bill Withers never finished “Lean on Me” because he worried it was “too simple.” Or if Fleetwood Mac had scrapped “Dreams” because it only had two chords.

Finishing a song doesn’t mean you’re settling, it means you’re brave enough to let your work go out into the world. Sure, you’ll always find things you could tweak or improve later, but that’s the nature of art. A song that’s done may not be perfect, but it’s alive. And that’s what matters.

The Power of Simplicity in Songwriting

If there’s one thing that ties all these overthinking traps together, it’s the misconception that complexity equals brilliance. But here’s the truth: simplicity isn’t a weakness, it’s a superpower. The most unforgettable songs often rely on simple lyrics, straightforward melodies, and familiar structures that resonate deeply with listeners.

Think of songs like Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind” or Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire.” These songs aren’t filled with intricate wordplay or dazzling key changes. They stick with you because they’re honest, direct, and emotionally raw. Their simplicity doesn’t make them any less profound, it makes them timeless.

I remember hearing an open mic performer sing a song with just two chords and a repeating refrain. I expected to zone out, but by the second chorus, the whole room was singing along. That simple song created a connection that a more complicated piece might not have achieved. It was a reminder that people don’t crave complexity, they crave something real.

Why Simplicity Works:

• It’s Relatable: Listeners connect with clear, straightforward emotions. A line like “I miss you” can sometimes hit harder than a labyrinth of metaphors.
• It’s Memorable: Simple melodies and lyrics are easier for listeners to remember and hum along to, which makes your song stick long after it’s over.
• It Leaves Space for Emotion: When you keep things simple, you leave room for the listener to fill in their own feelings and interpretations.

How to Embrace Simplicity Without Feeling Basic:

• Strip It Down First: Start with the bare essentials, your melody, chords, and the core message of the song. If it still works in its simplest form, you’ve got something special.
• Add Layers Intentionally: If you decide to add harmonies, instrumentation, or lyrical embellishments, make sure they’re serving the song rather than distracting from its core.
• Trust the Power of Repetition: Don’t be afraid to repeat a line or a phrase if it reinforces the emotional impact. Think of “Let It Be”, the repetition isn’t filler; it’s reassurance.

Some songwriters chase complexity to prove their creativity, but simplicity requires just as much, if not more courage. You’re trusting that your words and melodies will speak for themselves without needing adornment.

So, the next time you catch yourself layering idea upon idea, ask yourself: What’s the heart of this song? What’s the one thing I want the listener to feel? Once you know that, you’ll see that simplicity isn’t the absence of creativity, it’s creativity in its purest form.

So in conclusion, writing songs doesn’t have to feel like a mental tug-of-war between inspiration and self-doubt. Yet, it so often does because we put enormous pressure on ourselves to be brilliant, original, and flawless, all at the same time.

But here’s the truth: the best songs rarely start that way. They begin as messy drafts, small ideas, or simple phrases that grow into something meaningful when we allow the process to unfold naturally.

By recognising the ways we overthink, whether it’s chasing perfection too soon, overloading our songs with ideas, or getting lost in comparison, we can start letting go of the habits that hold us back. Writing songs isn’t about proving your worth; it’s about expressing something honest and creating a connection.

When you embrace imperfection, simplify where it counts, and trust your instincts, you’re giving your creativity room to breathe. And that’s where the magic happens.

So, the next time you catch yourself stuck in an overthinking spiral, remember: your voice is enough. Your song doesn’t need to be groundbreaking to be worth finishing, it just needs to be yours. Get it down, let it grow, and don’t be afraid to call it done. After all, songs are meant to be heard, not just hidden in notebooks or folders labelled “in progress.”

The world doesn’t need perfect songs, it needs songs that make people feel something. And the only way to do that is to stop over-complicating and start trusting your process.

Now, go finish that song, chances are you’re closer to the finish than you think.