Consistent Change

Do you need to try a sample?

Do you need to try a sample?

I love to read - both real books and on my Kindle, a mix of all kinds of things.

I have authors I auto buy, books that come recommended from friends or on social media, suggestions that pop up on an algorithm.

Each may sound like something I’d want to read. I might already like the author, the idea of the book, or the sound of the reviews - so how to decide which to invest the time and energy in?

If I’m not sure, and sometimes even if I am, I Try a Sample. It’s so useful to read the first pages, have a small taste, get a sense of what’s it’s about in real life.

Often it’s just as I imagined and I go onto buy it. Sometimes it’s just not my cup of tea and I don’t. And both are absolutely fine.

It’s such a gift to have tried it and know whether to say yes, no, or maybe later.

Lessons from knitting - and for 2025

Lessons from knitting - and for 2025

I started knitting when my first child was born, lucky to be patiently taught by a lovely older lady in a local shop.

It was super fun to make cute, small things and I found it creative and relaxing.

Over time it became less fun. As my children got bigger so did the projects, and then (when no one wanted to wear my knitting anymore!) I thought I should challenge myself with 4 needle socks in the round…

I haven’t knitted since - I took something I wanted to do and I set too big, too hard a goal. I took the joy and the sense of creativity and achievement out of it.

Until now. One ball of wool + the simplest, easiest pattern they had in the shop. Starting with something I want to do and can do :-)

It’s also how I’m approaching this year.

Are you over thinking and under doing?

Are you over thinking and under doing?

When I have the urge to write, it can be really tempting to wait until the idea is fully formed and perfect in my head before I put pen to paper.

My inner critic tells me that I don’t have time to work on it right now, or that I need to think about it more.

It also worries that it won’t be as good on the page as it is in my head, so there’s no point even trying.

For a long time, this meant I didn’t write anything, and all the ideas that bubbled up in me didn’t have anywhere to go. They stayed stuck inside - trapped by overthinking and under doing.

Now I give myself permission to create a messy first draft, because if the idea only exists in my head I’ll never know whether any of those worries are true.

The joy of exploring the possibility

The joy of exploring the possibility

Back in April a friend and I applied to take part in the BBC’s Race Across the World.

It was a spontaneous decision, prompted by a conversation on a very long walk, and a quick google search that showed the deadline was in a couple of days.

At first we dismissed it as a ridiculous idea! We agreed that:

  • It was terrible timing - perhaps at some point in the future?

  • It wasn’t possible, we couldn’t take 2 months off from our lives when we played so many roles for so many different people.

  • It was completely pointless - there was no chance of being chosen.

And then we decided to take a few steps…

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

Over the summer I’ve been listening to the Books, Beach & Beyond podcast, where all kinds of writers are interviewed about their journey to where they are now, what they write, how they write, and why they write.

I love it.

A question the hosts often ask is this one: Are you a plotter (plans out everything in detail before they start writing), or a pantser (starts with an idea and lets it unfold as they go)?

The answers vary hugely. Both types exist and are successful - there’s no right way or best way - but they definitely know which one they are.

It feels like this question is useful in so many more contexts! How do we like to approach the story of our lives? Our work? Our play?

What would be the EASIEST way to do this?

Have you ever tried to create the perfect habit… and ended up never getting started?

For a long time I wanted to add some strength training back into my life.

I know it’s important, I feel better when I do it, it feels good to feel stronger.

And yet for a long time I didn’t do it.

And then felt bad about not doing it.

And still didn’t do it.

Celebrating a year of Morning Pages

Celebrating a year of Morning Pages

I never thought I’d be a person who wrote Morning Pages.

I had always heard about people doing them and thought it wasn’t for me. 3 pages of A4 felt an awful lot, and I didn’t think I had the time.

Even after I bought The Artist’s Way it sat on my bookshelf for at least 2 years. Committing to the whole 12 week plan felt overwhelming.

And yet….

Since September 22nd last year, I’ve filled 7 note books with my (pretty illegible) handwriting.

Every morning for the last 369 days I’ve woken up, opened my notebook, and emptied my head.

Sometimes it’s simply a list of things I’m doing that day, and what I want to remember.

Sometimes there’s a thought in my head that needs to come up.

Some days I’m full of inspiration, other days I write about what the dog is doing at the end of the bed.

And now I can’t imagine missing a day.

What's your plan?

What's your plan?

Does it feel like you need to have a detailed plan when you’re at the start of a new adventure?

Perhaps a switch of career, or a new job, or a sabbatical, maybe even a gap year.

So you don’t have to sit with the uncertainty.

And so other people don’t worry about you?

When we think about what we want to create in our lives, and how we can get there, it can be super tempting to try and create a straight line between here and there.

If we can’t see all the steps it can feel like we’re not going to make it.

And so our brain really wants to decide on on a plan, and stick to it.

To create it all before we start.

It’s a really common way to help us feel safe and in control. And yet…it’s impossible to do.