Waiting for life to calm down before you try is like waiting for a bus that doesn’t run on your route.

No quiet period is arriving; the shape of the busyness changes and the volume does not. Conditions are always partly wrong, and treating that as a reason to wait means the waiting has no natural end. Whatever you are postponing will have to happen in an imperfect month, because those are the only kind available.

Take the smallest possible version of the thing and do it inside this messy week. Thirty minutes counts. You are testing whether the obstacle was really the circumstances.