Making Real Progress: What It Actually Takes to Move Your Research Forward

If you're feeling behind on your research, unsure how to move forward, or overwhelmed by the growing pile of tasks and unread articles, take a breath.

Remember, you're not alone in this journey. Many of us have felt the same way at some point. And more importantly:
You're not lazy. You're not incapable. You're just stuck.

And stuck, believe it or not, is part of the process.

Over the years, I’ve worked with hundreds of Master’s and PhD students, researchers, and professionals juggling academic goals with work, family, and life. Almost all of them hit the same wall eventually. And it’s not because they didn’t care or weren’t smart enough. It’s because real progress requires more than willpower.

Real progress isn’t just about output either. It’s about finding the conditions in which your work can thrive.

It takes a combination of space, strategy, and support, and most researchers are given little.

Sometimes progress means making changes to your schedule or workspace. Other times, it means stepping away entirely and starting again from a place of clarity. And always, it means permitting yourself to write imperfectly, to be seen in your process, and to honour your pace.

This is for anyone craving those shifts from overwhelmed to intentional, from spinning wheels to solid ground.

Progress Needs Boundaries — and Breathing Room

Progress doesn’t happen in the gaps between meetings. It doesn't live in the backseat of a life driven by deadlines, WhatsApp notifications, and always being “on.”

When they say they're stuck, one of the first things I ask researchers is, “When was the last time you gave your research real time? Protected time?”

Most people can’t remember.

Because writing becomes the thing we fit in when everything else is done — after the kids are asleep, the emails are answered, and the mental noise finally dies down. Except that by then, we’re too tired. Too distracted. We are too depleted to do the deep work our research requires.

Real progress needs boundaries.

And those boundaries can be surprisingly small:

• A Saturday morning carved out for writing — non-negotiable, like a dentist appointment.
• A quiet “Do Not Disturb” message sent to your household, just for two sacred hours.
• A decision to not check your inbox before your writing session, so you’re not pulled into the world before you’ve been with your work.

We often wait for space to appear. But space rarely arrives on its own.
It must be made — fiercely and kindly.

And if you genuinely can’t find it in your daily routine, it might be time to step away entirely. That’s why I created Academic Writing Retreats — as a kind of reset button. A chance to gift yourself the one thing you’ve likely denied for too long: uninterrupted time.

But even without a retreat, you can start protecting your time. Your ideas deserve that kind of reverence.

Progress isn’t just about what you do — it’s about what you protect. Your time, energy, and focus are constantly under pressure. Without boundaries, your research gets buried under daily demands.

Action Steps: Create Boundaries That Protect Your Work

• Designate Protected Writing Blocks: Block off time in your calendar just as you would a meeting. No emails. No multitasking. Just writing.
• Use Focus Tools: Try apps like Freedom (disables distractions),Pomofocus (for timed sessions),or Forest (for screen accountability).
• Communicate Your Boundaries: Let family, friends, or colleagues know when you’re unavailable. A simple “I’ll be offline from 9–11 for writing” works wonders.

🧠 Remember: Saying “no” to something else is often saying “yes” to your progress.

Progress Isn’t Pressure — It’s Process

When researchers arrive at our retreats or start the coaching process they often bring invisible baggage. 

The voice that says, “You should be further along.” The fear that they’re falling behind. The guilt of unfinished chapters, unanswered supervisor emails, and looming submission deadlines.

And so they arrive with a goal: “I have to finish Chapter 3 this weekend.”

But here’s what happens.

They start writing… and then deleting.
They try to power through… and realise their framework doesn’t make sense.
They feel frustrated… and then relieved — because they’re finally seeing the problem clearly for the first time.

And that’s when we have the conversation.

“Progress doesn’t always look like pages written. Sometimes, it looks like finally understanding what’s not working.”

The truth is, research is recursive. You loop back to move forward. You revise before you can expand. You get stuck because you’re doing hard, meaningful work.

Progress, then, isn’t a race. It’s a rhythm. And you’re allowed to take your time to find it.

So how do you build that rhythm?

So, how do you build that rhythm? Not through pressure, but through a well-structured approach to your work.

That could look like:

• A short writing plan on Sunday nights that maps out your weekly goals.
• A midweek check-in where you ask, “What’s working? What’s getting in the way?”
• A post-it note on your laptop saying, "One paragraph is still progress."
• Scheduling time in your diary to think, read or write. 

And if you’re someone who thrives on accountability, find a partner. Message a fellow student or colleague. Start a weekly call. Or ask for help from a coach, a colleague, or a friend who’ll ask, “How’s the writing going?” and listen.

We all have different energy rhythms. Forcing yourself to write when you're cognitively drained only leads to frustration.

🔹 Action Steps: Work With Your Brain — Not Against It

• Identify Your Peak Hours: Are you a morning thinker or a night owl? Align your hardest tasks with your highest energy periods.
• Set Up a Pre-Writing Ritual: Signal your brain it’s time to work — light a candle, make a cup of tea, or play your focus playlist.
• Use the “5-Minute Rule”: Commit to writing for just 5 minutes. Often, once you start, momentum carries you forward.

Progress Lives in Community, Not Isolation

If your research has ever felt lonely, that’s not your fault.

Academia, by its very design, rewards independence. 

You’re expected to carve out original insights, manage your schedule, and perform at a high level — often in silence.

But here’s the thing: you’re not supposed to do this alone.

I’ve watched the magic that happens when researchers sit together — even in silence — and write. There’s an unspoken solidarity. A sense of “Oh… you too?” that shifts the entire energy of the work.

Sometimes progress comes from being witnessed.
From someone nodding when you say, “I haven’t touched this in weeks,” instead of judging you for it.

You don’t need a massive writing group or public accountability thread. Just one or two people understand what you’re working toward and believe you can get there.

If you don’t have that yet, here’s what you can do:

• Reach out to someone in your department and suggest a co-writing session
• Join an online Shut Up & Write community or postgrad Slack group
• Ask your supervisor or research office if they know of existing support networks
• Start your writing check-in ritual — 10 minutes every Friday to reflect, reset, and recommit

The courage to write grows stronger when it’s shared.

Research can be isolating. You don’t need dozens of people cheering you on — but you do need someone.

Action Steps: Cultivate a support network

• Find a Writing Buddy: This can be a colleague, classmate, or online peer. Set shared goals and check in once a week.
• Join an Accountability Group: Look for structured programs through your university, research networks, or communities like Shut Up & Write.
• Use a Coach or Editor: Sometimes, progress is just one perspective shift away. A coach or editor can offer that clarity (and relief).

Remember, progress is not always loud and dramatic. It's often quiet, subtle, and deeply transformative.

We often think of progress as dramatic: submitting a complete draft, publishing an article, passing with minor revisions.

But most progress is subtle. Gentle. Even invisible.

It looks like:

• Reading your research question and finally thinking, “Yes, that’s what I’m trying to say.”
• Realising a paragraph you’ve written 14 times… is working now.
• Sitting down to write — without dread.

I’ve seen researchers cry after finishing a single section. Not because it was groundbreaking, but because it was done. Because they finally believed they were capable again.

This kind of progress doesn’t show up in milestones. But it creates them.

So take note of your small shifts:

• That you understood a journal article you skimmed.
• That you reorganised your notes in a way that makes sense.
• That you sat down, opened your laptop, and didn’t quit.

These are the moments that accumulate into something remarkable.

Action Steps: Get Clear on What “Progress” Actually Means

• Define Weekly Wins: Every Sunday or Monday, ask: “What would success look like by Friday?” Keep it realistic and clear.
• Reframe “Setbacks” as Data: Didn’t meet your writing goal? Ask what got in the way. Adjust accordingly, without judgment.

🧠 Progress is clarity, momentum, and alignment — not just output.

Progress Sometimes Means Stepping Away

There are seasons when the only way forward is out.

When the distractions are too loud. When the mental fog won’t lift. When the thought of one more lonely writing session fills you with resistance.

In those moments, a change of scenery — physical, mental, emotional — can change everything.

That’s why we host our Academic Writing Retreats in the quiet hills of Tonteldoos, not as a luxury, but as a lifeline.

Because when researchers come to the retreat, they don’t just write.
They breathe.
They rest.
They reconnect.

And then… they move. Sometimes in small, subtle ways. Sometimes in bold, breakthrough moments. But always forward.

We'd love to support you if a retreat feels like what you need. But even if you can’t get away right now, the principle remains:

Progress is often waiting on the other side of rest.

So take a walk. Close the laptop. Let your research settle and rise again, clearer.

Progress Is Yours to Define

There is no single way to move forward. And there is undoubtedly no timeline that works for everyone.

Your progress might be:

• Creating boundaries that protect your time and energy
• Writing 300 words after weeks of feeling blocked
• Finally reaching out for support instead of struggling silently
• Letting go of a section that no longer serves your argument

And yes, it might also be attending a writing retreat, resetting your nervous system. Remembering what your voice sounds like without all the noise.

But no matter which path you take, remember this:

Progress is not perfection. It’s momentum.

It’s choosing to show up again.
It’s believing that your work matters.
And it’s trusting that the next step is still a step forward, no matter how small.

Rewrite the narrative in your head

What we believe about our research shapes how we treat it.

If you tell yourself you're lazy, not good enough, or always behind — that belief becomes a barrier.
If you tell yourself, “I’m a researcher learning how to move forward,” you give yourself power.

🔹 Action Steps:

• Notice Your Internal Talk: Write down your most frequent research-related thoughts. Would you say those to a friend?
• Reframe with Kindness: Replace “I should be done by now” with “I’m making steady progress at my own pace.”
• Celebrate Non-Linear Progress: Keep a “progress journal” and log every breakthrough — even the ones that didn’t feel big at the time.

A Gentle Invitation

We are here if you’re ready for space, structure, and support.
Not to push. Not to pressure. But to walk with you toward clarity and completion.

Upcoming Retreats: 📍 Tonteldoos, Limpopo
🗓️ 9–11 May | 13–15 June (Weekend Retreats)
🗓️ 17–21 June (Week-Long Retreat)
✨ Fully catered, max six people, expert coaching, flexible payment plans

Or if you're not quite there yet — start with a boundary. A small writing session. A conversation. An act of faith in your future self.

Because progress doesn't just happen, it’s made.

Making progress doesn’t always feel like winning. Sometimes it feels like circling back. Like deleting a paragraph. Like rewriting the same sentence five times.

But every time you show up — every time you sit down and try again — you are doing the work.

And that counts.

So whether you:

• Write 200 words today,
• Find a writing buddy this week,
• Protect your Saturday morning,
• Or finally decide to step away and reset on a retreat —

Know that it’s all part of the same journey.

Your ideas matter. Your work has value.

And the world needs your research - finished and shared.