Why Six-Week Projects Work Better Than Big Resolutions

If you’re looking for the easiest way to actually finish things…

I’m convinced I can do almost anything for six weeks.

Not forever. Not even a year.
Just six weeks.

After the new year, I suggested trying project-based goals instead of big, sweeping resolutions. I want to expand on that, because I think this approach is one of the most reliable ways to keep living during stressful or inconsistent times—whether the chaos is US politics or an average Tuesday night in your kitchen.

This idea came to me completely by accident (literally).

In November of 2023, I fell and shattered my ankle and wound up on the couch for six weeks. This was clearly not ideal. I am not a sit-down-and-wait person. Perpetual motion is my default setting.

It wasn’t just the forced stillness that frustrated me. It was all of it: crutches, a knee scooter, showering with a giant plastic bag duct-taped to my thigh

Ugh. And having to rely on everyone else for the simplest things… like coffee. It’s incredibly difficult to crutch a cup of hot liquid across the living room (doesn’t work, don’t try).

I did not want to do any of it.

But from the beginning, I kept telling myself: It’s just six weeks.
Not in a toxic positivity way. More like a prisoner of war way.
You can survive six weeks.

And slowly—sloooooowly—something shifted. The time passed. I adapted. While I didn’t love it, I didn’t fall apart either. In the final week before I could put weight on my foot, I had a genuinely life-changing thought:

I can do anything for six weeks.

Six weeks is just time passing. It’s happening whether we want it to or not.

In reality, I was out of commission for closer to three months, but those first six weeks were the hardest. They became my new internal measuring stick. If I could handle that, I could handle other uncomfortable, annoying, or long-avoided things inside the same time container.

And once I noticed that, I started using it on purpose.

Later that year, when I was invited to join a six-week menopause weight-loss challenge, I said yes without stressing about it. (It worked.)

Last year, after yet another summer of standing in front of my stuffed closet saying “I have nothing to wear”, I decided to treat my decades-long wardrobe frustration as a six-week project.

And that worked too.

I’ve studied motivation and habits for years, so this makes sense. A clear goal plus a defined time frame is powerful. What usually doesn’t work is vague promises we keep shoving onto our imaginary “someday” list.

So many things stay undone not because they’re hard, but because they’re unclear. We don’t know where to start, so we don’t.

Turning something into a project is the start.

➡️ Here’s the whole system—intentionally unsexy:

• Give it a name

• Give it a start date and a stop date

• Work on solving the actual problem

That’s it. No identity overhaul required.

Your project can be anything that’s been quietly bothering you or something you keep promising you’ll “get to eventually.” For my closet project, my only rule was 30 minutes, three times a week. No marathons. Just consistent, mildly boring progress.

➡️ If you want to layer in motivation, before you begin, write down:

• Why you want to do it

• How it feels letting it linger unfinished

• How you’ll feel when it’s done

That last part matters more than we admit. The weight of the undone is real. It shows up as background guilt, mental clutter, and that constant low-grade hum of I really need to get to do that.

This sad space used to be my office, but for the last 5 years, it’s our somewhat uncomfortable little TV room. It makes me sad every time I walk by.

My next six-week project is finally making our TV room feel like a space I actually want to be in, instead of an afterthought with a remote.

What surprises me every time is how much lighter I feel just knowing there’s a plan. Seriously. We can work with a plan.

I love six-week projects so much that I’ve built a project-based accountability challenge into my spring coaching. This is the exact structure I use, and it works especially well when life feels full or unpredictable.

But even if you do this on your own, imagine the relief of finishing something that’s been a monthly—or daily—mental burden.

Six weeks. That’s the commitment.

And if you don’t finish, but you genuinely try? It still counts. You can reset the timer, or decide it’s not worth doing after all. Or maybe you decide to outsource your project? Changing your mind is 100% okay. Progress and clarity both count.