I Stopped Chasing Motivation—and Everything Changed

M Mehran

For years, I thought motivation was the secret ingredient everyone else had and I didn’t.

I watched videos at 2 a.m. titled “Wake Up at 5 AM and Win at Life.” I bought planners with gold-embossed covers. I downloaded productivity apps that promised to turn my chaos into color-coded clarity. For about three days, I felt unstoppable. On day four, I was back on the couch, scrolling, wondering what was wrong with me.

The lifehack that changed everything wasn’t flashy. It didn’t come with a morning routine or a subscription. It came on a random Tuesday, when I was tired of being tired—of my own broken promises to myself.

I stopped chasing motivation. I started designing friction.


---

The Problem No One Talks About

Motivation is unreliable. It shows up when it wants, leaves without notice, and never apologizes. Yet we build our entire lives around waiting for it.

“I’ll start when I feel ready.” “I’ll be consistent when I’m motivated.” “I’ll change when the timing is right.”

That timing rarely comes.

What does come is resistance. Laziness. Fear. Distraction. Life.

I realized I was asking motivation to do a job it was never meant to do. Motivation is a spark, not a system. Sparks burn out. Systems keep going.

So instead of asking, “How do I feel more motivated?” I asked a different question:

“How can I make the right choice easier and the wrong choice harder?”

That question changed my life.


---

The Lifehack: Add Friction to Bad Habits, Remove It from Good Ones

Friction is the tiny amount of effort required to do something. We usually try to eliminate friction everywhere—but that’s a mistake.

Here’s the hack:

Increase friction for habits you want less of

Decrease friction for habits you want more of


It sounds simple because it is. But simple doesn’t mean weak.

Let me show you how it worked for me.

Big plans. Big motivation. Big transformations announced to the world like fireworks. I thought if I wasn’t suffering dramatically or posting about it publicly, it didn’t count.

That belief kept me stuck for years.

I wanted to wake up earlier, read more, exercise, drink water, learn new skills, and somehow become a better version of myself—all while doing absolutely none of those things consistently. Every Sunday night, I made promises to “start fresh Monday.” By Wednesday, those promises were buried under exhaustion, guilt, and Netflix autoplay.

Then one random morning, while brushing my teeth and feeling disappointed in myself (again), I discovered a lifehack so small it felt insulting.

And it changed everything.

The Rule That Felt Too Stupid to Work

I call it the One-Minute Rule.

The rule is simple:
If something takes one minute or less, do it immediately—no debate, no delay, no drama.

But that’s exactly why it works.

The One-Minute Rule doesn’t aim to transform your life overnight. It quietly removes the friction that keeps you stuck. It targets the invisible moments where procrastination is born.

You know those moments.

“I’ll reply to that message later.”

“I’ll put this cup away after I rest.”

“I’ll write tomorrow when I feel inspired.”

“I’ll start when I have more time.”


Those moments don’t feel dangerous. But they pile up. And before you know it, your life feels heavier—not because of big failures, but because of hundreds of tiny delays.

The First Day I Tried It

The first time I consciously used the One-Minute Rule, it was embarrassingly basic.

I finished drinking water and stood there holding the glass, about to place it on the desk “for now.” Then I remembered the rule.

Washing the glass would take less than a minute.

So I did it.

Washing the glass would take less than a minute.

So I did it.

That was it. No fireworks. No dopamine rush. Just a clean glass.

But something strange happened afterward:
I felt lighter.

Not proud. Not accomplished. Just… uncluttered.

That feeling stayed with me. And throughout the day, I kept noticing more one-minute opportunities.

Replying to an email. Making my bed. Writing two sentences in my journal. Stretching my back.