July: Unexpected Beginnings.
I received the printed version of my first book, Dream. Decide. Do., a few weeks ago, and it felt almost as satisfying as typing the final sentence and knowing — at last — that it was complete. Looking back over the journey, I feel much more confident about doing it again, having learnt valuable lessons along the way.
I have always written — journals, reflections, plans, morning pages and ideas — but accumulating pages (or any progress, really) requires more discipline than ad hoc bursts of productivity. The process of writing a book enabled me to finally establish a regular writing practice. Small, daily steps of positive intention move the needle, and that is essentially what the book is about. The power of writing ideas down is that, if you think them and write about them often enough, eventually you can't help but feel galvanised to do something about them.
In 2019, a close friend of mine battled through a particularly severe period of depression, and I found myself struggling to offer her the kind of support I thought she needed. In retrospect, the most important thing was (and still is) to be there for her; to bear witness to her pain, to listen and to love her. I started writing down ideas and thoughts that might help her to feel better — everything from thought exercises to perspective pieces, to recipes and ideas for workouts. They were made up of a combination of ideas I had encountered over the years, and practices that I was experimenting with and that were working for me.
At the same time I was studying Positive Psychology through Martin Seligman. The idea that resonated most with me was that wellbeing is something we can intentionally cultivate — it is not simply the absence of illness. I bought a blank book, and I filled it with my ideas for her. As I worked through the material, I rewrote bits of it, and edited and refined the content. I added in envelopes for private thoughts, I drew pictures, handwrote large sections and typed others. I kept thinking that I should hurry to give it to her whilst she was still going through such a difficult time, but wanted to wait until I felt like it was complete. The ‘Steps for a Dark Day’ in the appendix of Dream. Decide. Do. originated from those original notes that I made for her.
When I did finally give it to her, she was already on her way up and out of the black hole that she had found herself in. We have since found that she is more receptive to positive behaviour change when she is feeling well, and is better able to implement the actions that she has decided on when she is operating from a place of power. I think that is true for all of us. Her increasing ability to cope is certainly not as a result of the contents of the book that I made for her – it is more due to her strength of character and diligence in deciding to do the work to feel better, day in and day out. Perhaps that is why people often say that mood follows action.
What I wrote for her probably forms about 10% of Dream. Decide. Do. – but when I look back on my journey, my gift to her was really the beginning of my first book. I called her copy ‘A Journey’, and that title is still very meaningful to me. Our lives are a journey, and we do not know exactly how long we will travel – but we can focus on our steps each day, and on the manner in which we choose to move forward.
If there is one lesson I would pass on from this experience, it is this: start before you feel ready. Write the notes. Follow the ideas. Little actions repeated over time have a way of becoming something larger.