Monthly Archives: November 2020

Yesterday’s post was largely a result of my need to process the chaos and challenges of the last few weeks. It was about finding reflection, searching out the meaning, the lesson, the something that can explain or make sense of what’s going on.

Of course, in life we know that there’s rarely meaning in everything that happens. There may be lessons and we may even be able to apply the things we learn to things that crop up in the future, but meaning is something we can spend a lifetime searching for and still never find.

That’s not meant to sound defeatist. What I’ve learned is that when I stop looking for meaning and instead simply reflect on events I’m able to work through things much more effectively.

Writing is my reflection. Whether it’s here, in a paper journal or hurriedly typed into a notes app on my phone, writing is how I use my mind to process everything that’s going on. That’s what I miss (and have missed) when I don’t write here. Because something about the public-facing space here forces me to think about things differently and to get out of my own head. Don’t ask me why, but it does.

Not everyone is big on writing. You may hate it. That’s fine. You do you. But while you’re doing you, find the right place and way to reflect for yourself.

Finding reflection in our lives may only take moments in a day, but it’s worth every single one of them.

When the smiles come slowly it can be easy to miss them.

When things are hard, when we struggle, when we feel like we’re fighting against a strong wind or a raging current or a tsunami with a terrible temper, smiles feel like they’re something that belong to other people.

But they’re not. We still smile, but slowly. We smile inwardly, perhaps, rather than outwardly. But we still smile.

Sometimes it feels as if the tiniest chink of light only serves to remind us of the darkness we’re encased in. And it’s in those moments that we have to remember that we’ve seen the chink of light at all.

Smile Through It was created with the belief that every day, no matter how bad, if we can find one small thing to smile about, it’s not a wasted day. What I’ve discovered over the last 15 years since I first posted is even when things seem utterly humourless there are almost always smiles there.

What we have to do is notice them. Because when they don’t burst into bloom to brighten our faces we often don’t count them as smiles. But the little smiles, the semi-hidden smiles, the smiles that don’t want to declare themselves?

Those are the most precious smiles and the ones we need to hold on to the tightest.

Share your work, even when it scares you. Pick up the phone, even when it scares you. Tell someone what they mean to you, even when it scares you. Apply for that job, even when it scares you. Be honest with someone, even when it scares you.

Yesterday I sent the first draft of the first three chapters of my first ever novel to my wife and my brother. I’ve never written anything like this before and I’m not ready to share it yet. I’m not ready for other people to read it. I’m scared of what they’re going to say.

Which is why I had to share it.

Fear holds me back more often than I’d like to admit. It holds me back even in those times I refuse to admit to myself that I’m scared. In those times, fear manifests itself as perfectionism, it surfaces in excuses. Those are the times I need to share my art.

Not despite the fact that it scares me, because of the fact it scares me.

Doing things, even when they scare you, is a mantra I’ve had for myself for a long time. It’s also one I rarely listen to. So I’m trying harder.