Die Empty: Ship Before You're Ready

It Starts with a Blank Commit Message

You open your editor, fingers hovering, wondering which line of code or idea deserves oxygen today. Nothing dramatic—a minor refactor here, a polish on your onboarding flow there. Just chipping away.

Then something clicks.

An old growth hack you once scribbled on a sticky note. That nagging onboarding friction you felt in your own product. The small, invisible gaps—the ones you keep excusing away because the roadmap is already packed.

You dive in. And suddenly, you’re not just building features—you’re pouring meaning into your work. Code that doesn’t just function, but echoes with intent.

That’s what Todd Henry calls dying empty.

The Myth of Someday

Every indie hacker has an idea graveyard.

Half-built repos. Figma mocks no one’s seen but you. Blog drafts titled “WIP.” “Someday” features for “after launch.” Each one a bet that time will open up, that inspiration will rise, that the perfect moment will arrive.

But the gut punch from Die Empty:

Most people die with their best work still inside them.

Not for lack of skill. Not for lack of hustle. But because they waited.

Waited for certainty. For permission. For less chaos.

But clarity isn’t a precondition for shipping. It’s a dividend. You earn it by showing up—before the idea cools and the value leaks out.

No one will tap your shoulder and demand you build your weirdest, truest work.

That’s on you.

Your Legacy Is Already Compounding

Founders and indie hackers aren’t just dropping features—we’re leaving artifacts.

Libraries. Playbooks. Scars. Dents. A forked repo another builder stumbles across. A teardown thread that nudges someone’s roadmap. A bug fix that saves a week of someone else’s life.

It all whispers in the dark, long after our handles fade.

So if you hit pause today— What survives you?

A snippet someone copies? A note buried in a talk you gave? A brave blog post someone needed?

Or just drafts and regrets?

Die Empty makes it clear: There’s no debt jubilee for unrealized ideas. Value compounds only when released.

Ship what you’ve got—while it’s got a pulse.

The Three Modes of Work: Map, Make, Mesh

Henry’s framework is fuel for indie builders—especially if you’re solo or scrappy:

Map — Step back. What matters most right now? Not what’s hot—what’s consequential.
Make — Get moving. Write. Publish. Push code. Shipping creates momentum.
Mesh — Stay sharp. Read. Teach. Learn. Keep your edge.

Miss a mode, and you’ll feel it.

Only mapping? You’re marinating. Only making? You’re stuck in old loops. Only meshing? You’re floating.

Great builders rotate through all three. Relentlessly.

Creative Entropy Is Real

Here’s the uncomfortable truth:

Unused work decays.

Excitement has half-lives. That edge you feel today dulls tomorrow.

The commit you don’t push. The insight you never share. The feedback you’ll “get to,” but don’t.

This is how good work dies— Not from competition. From entropy.

The fix? Serve your work. Don’t hoard it. Make it sharper. Ship it before the world moves on.

The Indie Hacker's Litmus Test

At day’s end, ask yourself:

Did I pour out something today that nobody else could?

Even one lifted sentence. One fixed onboarding burp. One raw post. One brave DM.

That’s dying empty—not from burnout or overwork, but from honoring the ideas only you can offer, before they vaporize.

Because no one builds forever.

Not me. Not you.

And when the streak ends and your timeline goes quiet, what matters will be what you released before you felt ready.

The things you built obsessed. The notes you published unpolished. The value you shipped while it burned hottest.

So unstick the draft. Fix the edge case. Ship the thing.

Because it all starts with a blank commit message.

And you’re staring at one right now.