new year’s resolutions

If you’re happy and you know it, be sure to mention it

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We spend a lot of our adult lives learning how to tell people that we want things to change.

We go on training at work about how to give feedback. We listen to radio phone-ins about how to ask fellow commuters to be more considerate. We read agony aunt column after agony aunt column about how to get our spouse to PLEASE JUST CHANGE THE TOILET ROLL FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE FOR THE LOVE OF ANDREX.

And whilst there is of course value in finding ways to make the imperfect better, my plan for 2020 is to spend more time pointing out the things that make me happy just as they are.

A couple of years ago I started keeping a gratitude list. Every week I make a note of the things – big and small – that have happened that I want to remember and that prove that life is great. I’d seen somebody on Twitter recommend it, so I thought I’d give it a go, and it’s done me the world of good – not just because it’s healthy to be grateful for what you have, but because it’s made me realise what really matters to me.

I kept a list every week in my 2019 diary, and though the exact words differ from week to week, the same themes come up time and time again. Cuddles with my daughter. Seeing her laugh. Time chatting to my husband. Moments to myself to read or watch TV. A catch up with friends. A really excellent cake. A visit from my mum. Managing to stay awake throughout an entire film (this happened approximately twice in 12 months). Proof that I’m keeping my mental health in check. Space to do the work I want to do. Our home.

There are weeks when I’ve noted down special events – new exciting projects, birthdays, trips away – but most of the time, each item on the list is a reminder that it’s the simple things I’m most grateful for. It’s a written collection of all the day to day bits and pieces that could easily go unnoticed, but that are actually my favourite parts of all.

The importance of acknowledging the good became even more apparent to me last year when our daughter got a nasty eye infection. All of a sudden we were in paediatric A&E being told we’d be there overnight so that she could have antibiotics pumped into her little veins through an IV. We caught the infection straightaway and the necessary steps were taken, so all was largely fine, but it was also a bit scary. And it involved spending time in hospital, which is always difficult, particularly when children are involved.

All I wanted the entire time we were there was to go home and back to normal. It made me realise how much I loved our life and that all I need to be happy is to be free to live it, together.

And though that thought process wasn’t new, I wondered if I’d ever actually mentioned how much I liked things, just as they were. I KNEW I’d mentioned how much better life would be if only the bins were emptied more regularly and if we changed a lightbulb more than once every DECADE, but had I said: “Actually, everything we have is everything I want. Nothing else matters”? I’m not sure. So I started.

I’ve tried to take the time to stop and acknowledge when we’re having a nice time, and to tell my husband and my daughter how much I enjoy our time together. I’m an organised person, so I spend most of my time living in the future, planning for the next meal I need to cook, groceries I need to buy, or stain I need to try and fail to remove. And though the world must keep turning, I don’t want to forget to engage with what’s happening now. I don’t want happiness to be something I only recognise retrospectively – I want to notice it in the moment. The future will be here soon enough.

We’ve tried to make it the norm as a couple for us to tell each other when we’re struggling. We let each other know how we’re feeling, we talk about why that might be and what (if anything) can be done, and then we try to move on. It’s not about brushing tough stuff away, quite the opposite. Discussing hard times is as normal as chatting about what’s on TV, so the hurdle isn’t finding the courage to bring it up, but figuring out how we can tackle it together.

And I want it to be just as normal to chat about what’s great. It’s not about living some smug, insufferable life where we pat ourselves on the back all day long, it’s just about making sure we don’t forget that we’re lucky to have each other and that we’ve not forgotten the time when all we wanted was everything that we’ve got now.

My husband reminds me regularly of this Kurt Vonnegut quote, which I love: “And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”

So that’s what I’m trying to do, this year and beyond. Notice. Life can be incredibly difficult. Surprising in glorious ways, and shocking in others. So the least we can do is acknowledge when it’s good, and let the people around us know how happy they make us.

And I’ll be keeping up with my gratitude list too. Stopping to note down the funny, touching, meaningful joys I’ve taken from each day is the cheapest form of therapy I’ve ever known, and I strongly recommend it. And it’s a lovely thing to look back on at the end of the year, too.

So that’s my intentions for 2020 officially documented, and I’d love to know what yours are, too. Happy New Year.

Lifestyle and mindset choices, 2019

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They’re not so much resolutions, you see, as choices I want to make about how I live my life and how I think, this year. I figure that if I focus on these, the life goals that I have – the writing work I want to do, the creative projects I want to develop, the marvellously calm and fulfilling home and family life I want to create – will all feel more achievable.

I want to be clear at this point that I’m writing this today as somebody who is struggling with all of this. This isn’t a list written by somebody who’s got it all worked out and who’s advising you on how to be better. This is about writing down what I know I need to do and remember, so that I have it to refer to. And it’s here, too, for anybody else who finds it difficult to keep their habits and mind in check, should they need a little reminder.

This is my plan for 2019:

1. Be a better planet inhabitant

I’ve been trying, like so many of us, to recycle more and to minimise my impact on the planet. I’ve found it really useful to hear from others about action they’re taking, so here are a few things I’m doing on this front:

a) Using washable sanitary products. There was a piece on Radio 4’s Woman’s Hour during 2018 about the level of plastic in sanitary products, and I felt ashamed that I’d simply never considered it. So, I’ve purchased reusable ones as a simple way to reduce the amount of plastic I use and chuck away. I went for these, and there are plenty of others available too.

b) ALWAYS carrying a shopping bag with me. I have become that woman who stands behind her husband in a queue in a supermarket shouting DON’T LET THEM GIVE YOU A PLASTIC BAG, I’VE COME PREPARED! My in-laws bought us a SakItToMe bag for Christmas (they roll up really small and are super easy to carry around) and I’m going to make sure I have it with me at all times.

c) Reducing our meat consumption because science says it’ll help, and listening to science is a good idea.

d) Always taking water out with me. I know it’s an obvious one, but having a baby is such thirsty work that it’s forced me to realise how easy it is to always have a water bottle with me, rather than buying a drink whilst I’m out. I want to try and spot other ways I can cut down what I put in the bin by thinking ahead.

As I said, these are just a few steps I’m taking, and I’d love more ideas. What are you doing to live a greener life?

2. Focus on what I can control: My words, my actions

I’ve mentioned this on here so many times, but whilst it’s a simple concept, it’s very easy to forget.

There are two things in this world that you can control – what you say and what you do. That’s it. When I feel myself getting into a worry spiral (this happens to me regularly), it tends to be because I’ve started tricking myself into thinking that I can or should be able to control other things. But no matter what the situation is, or who it involves, these remain the only two things within our power.

This year I want to be quicker to acknowledge this, as it always makes me feel calmer and lets me put my brain space to better use. Perhaps if somebody could text it to me everyday? I think that would help.

3. Worry less about what people think

I’m never surer that a person cares what people think than when they tell me that they don’t care what people think. OF COURSE YOU CARE, YOU’RE NOT A PSYCHOPATH.

But what matters is that you don’t let it get in the way. That you don’t spend more time thinking about what people think than doing what makes you happy.

I worry every time I write a blog post that somebody somewhere will see it as further evidence that I’m a moron, but do I let that stop me hitting publish? No, I don’t. I just do it and hope that if they think it, they’ll resist the temptation to email me to let me know.

I doubt very much that my worrying about what people think has ever had any bearing on what they’ve thought of me anyway, so it’s really not a good use of anybody’s time.

4. Stay focused on what I’m doing

Is a New Year’s resolutions list even complete without a mention of a more mindful use of social media? I don’t think so.

I have a terrible habit of looking at other people’s life updates and seeing them as evidence of the ways in which I’m failing. I’m most affected by anything to do with people’s careers, particularly when people share publications they’re writing for or books they’ve published (Why don’t I write for them? Why hasn’t the book I haven’t even written been listed as a bestselller?). Since I had a baby, I’ve also started partaking in what I like to call ‘Parenting Inadequacy’, which I highly recommend. All you have to do is forget absolutely every single thing you’ve ever done for your child, look at one photo of a stranger with their offspring in a museum/garden centre/puddle and let yourself feel like the world’s worst mother. It’s fun AND worthwhile!

This is all a total waste of time, leads to nothing good, and is entirely self-inflicted, so enough already. Be inspired by other people, sure, admire their photography if you like, but spend all your time comparing and all you’ll gain is a headache. I’m not a failure for not being somebody else. Being just the one person at a time is NORMAL.

5. Remember that my achievements incorporate everything I’m doing

It’s easy to slip into thinking that you’re not doing enough. Be it for your child or towards your career or whatever. But everybody only has so much time, and life is just a constant game of prioritising. Some days I just have to be a parent and a tired human and my other ambitions have to take a back seat. And then other days I’m full of energy and writing ideas and I manage to get lots done.

I’m prone to focusing far more on what I’m not doing than what I am. And I also let myself forget how much work goes into the various aspects of my life. Being all the different types of people that we are to this world – a mum, a wife, a writer, a The Marvelous Mrs Maisel enthusiast – takes a huge amount of time and energy, and our sense of achievement should come from it all.

6. Be a better friend to myself

You know what I’m good at? Listening to a friend or a stranger about how they think they’re failing at life and then telling them all the reasons why they’re not. You know what I’m bad at? Doing the same for myself.

I met a mum outside my daughter’s nursery this week and told her she was absolutely doing the right thing by having a day where her child was being looked after by somebody else so that she could go and get some jobs done. I then told her how terrible I was for doing the exact same thing.

This year I want to try and step in on my own thought process and be the stranger who would definitely tell me that I’m not such a failure after all.

7. Value my time 

I don’t get a lot, mate, what with the baby and the washing and Coronation Street on five times a week. So I want to be more mindful about how I use it. Be present when I’m with my daughter – play with her, look at her, take her in, and try not to be doing 300 other things at the same time. Check my phone when I have something to check rather than just scrolling for no reason at all. Read a book in the evening, rather than channel hopping until I fall asleep. Use my daughter’s nap times to write and pitch and connect with the creative side of my brain.

I guess what I’m saying is that I want to be kinder to myself, and to the planet this year. How about you?

Thanks so much to everyone for reading what I had to say in 2018, and I look forward to chatting to you more in 2019. Happy New Year, friends.

Aim for 2017: Acceptance

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New Year's resolution: AcceptancePretty much every barrier to contentment I face comes up because I haven’t yet finished accepting who I am, how human beings work, and how life goes down.

So this year, instead of setting New Year’s resolutions to go running at 5am, to give up sweets, or to learn how to re-wire a lamp (no thank you, yeah right and, re-what, now?), I’m going to dedicate my energy to accepting some truths:

That I’m always going to shop high street. So many people who wear vintage clothes look fantastic, chic and cool. But rather than just thinking that, I’ve been wasting energy chastising myself for continuing to purchase clothes from shops every Charlotte, Jemima and Louise can access. But then I realised – this is how I like to dress, and every time I walk into a vintage shop I feel like I do in a hardware store – I know that there is potential in here, but I just don’t have the skills or the vision to make it work for me. And that’s OK.

That my achievements are my achievements and your achievements are your achievements. I wrote a list of the reasons I haven’t yet done all of the things I’d like to do with my life recently, just to make my brain SHUT UP and stop making me feel like a failure. And the main one is this: Because I’ve been busy achieving other things, all of which I stand by. Your brain is so good at telling you what you haven’t done and terrible at acknowledging what you have. So I want to accept this and try to beat it at its own game. We each live different lives and it’s pointless to compare. It’s a much better use of time to be pleased with the life you have, to understand why it is how it is, and to focus on where you’re off to next.

That we’re just not minimalist people. I’m a huge fan of a clear-out and my favourite correspondence of all is a note from the British Heart Foundation to tell me how much my donations have raised. But I can’t give all our stuff away. I like to own books, lots of books. And clothes. And shoes. And old diaries with lists I might just need to refer to. And CDs because I still haven’t let go. My house is like my brain – busy, cluttered, covered in notes and so full of memories it’s ready to burst – and I’m alright with that.

The more you know That crisps are delicious and I like to eat them. I’m not going to try and kid anyone and say that I’m giving up treats. The way I feel when I see that Pringles are on offer for £1 a tube is probably similar to the way a football fan feels when Idontcare United does a goal or whatever – very excited indeed. So I’m not going to deprive myself entirely of this joy, I’ll just try and have a weekends-only rule, or something extremely self-restrained like that.

That conversations about money have to happen. One of the hardest parts of freelancing is the bit where you need to talk about cash. I’ve got better at it – I do it and I’m broadly happy with how it goes – but every part of me tenses when the conversation begins. I think it’s part human nature and part fear of being found out, which is weird because what are they going to find out? That I need to eat? HEAVEN FORBID. This is just a part of the process and I shouldn’t just accept it but welcome it. We all deserve to be paid for our work. And anyway, how else will I pay for those crisps?

That there are worse obsessions than the one I have with notebooks. Nothing brings me hope like a brand new pad. All that potential on those blank sheets – Will I write the next Bridget Jones? The next Hey Jude? The next How To Figure Out If Your Man Secretly Finds Your Laugh Irritating women’s magazine quiz? Paper is for me what drugs and alcohol and large televisions are for other people, except cheaper and much more civilised. We mustn’t beat ourselves up for having something harmless in our lives that we enjoy. Ok, my office might look like a stationery shop’s storage room, but who wouldn’t want to hang out in one of those?

Better than yesterdayThat there will never be enough time. Age is realising that there is nothing you can do to stop time slipping away from you. It’s sitting with your family or friends and feeling the day being pulled out from under you before it’s even begun. Fighting it won’t do you any good – all you can do is try to dedicate the time you have to the people and opportunities that matter most. I want to use my time more efficiently – who doesn’t – but I also want to accept the decisions I make about how I use it. Regretting what you did with one day will only eat into the time you have on another, so that’s a stage we can afford to lose.

That you have to do things that scare you. Fancy being on telly? My friend, you’re going to have to stand in front of strangers and do some acting. Want to write for a magazine? Well, then you’re going to need to email the editor some ideas, probably be knocked back and then send some more. Scary, yes, but maybe also the one step between you and something worth a little perspiration. I have come to the conclusion that if I’m not scared or at least a little nervous about something, it’s generally because I don’t care about it, in which case, why am I doing it in the first place?

That most of the time I’ll never find out what you think anyway. It’s amazing that we invest so much time in worrying about feedback we’ll probably never receive. As much as I may worry that you thought I was a moron over dinner, that my eye make-up was poorly applied, or that my jokes were badly thought through, do I really think you’d say that to me? And if you did, a) Would we really be friends? and b) Wouldn’t I have the right to disagree? I worry about people thinking my writing is bad or silly or pointless, but I still continue to do it, which means I must believe in it. Happiness requires you to back yourself – to have faith that you are a good person and that you’re trying your best – in social situations, in your work, and in your application of eyeliner. And if not everybody likes it, that’s because people are different, which is healthy.

Get shit doneThat life is not linear. One of the hardest things to get your head around is that there is no end point at which you’re handed a certificate for having done all of the things on your to-do list. Your life isn’t all set out in a line so that you can walk along it, ticking off your achievements on a clipboard. It’s much more interesting than that. I know this, I really do, I just forget it sometimes because I really like writing lists and crossing things off. So this year I want to remember how important it is to give yourself permission to stay open to what comes up, to change your mind, and to do what feels right for you.

That you can’t change people. Not the man on the tube who thinks he can sit with his legs spread so wide that they require their own carriage. Not the woman who doesn’t know to keep her questions about the film to herself until she leaves the cinema. And not the guy on the table opposite whose mother forgot to say EAT WITH YOUR MOUTH SHUT, YOU ANIMAL as frequently as mine did. More importantly, you also can’t change your friends, your family, or your spouse into different people. You can tell them if they’re upsetting you, but, after that, it’s up to them. All you can do is focus on being the kind of person you want to be.

I’ll be me and you be you and the rest of the year will take care of itself, I’m sure of it.

Happy New Year, friends.