Archives: Storytelling

When I’m pottering around the house, making tea, washing up, vacuuming or any of the other household tasks I don’t do often enough, I listen to podcasts. Yesterday while doing some extended kitchen cleaning after a messier-than-necessary roast chicken dinner, I was listening to Tim Ferris’s latest podcast with Seth Godin and it helped me to realise that I need to move on from my current state of fear, confusion or just plain laziness and start doing the work.

I frequently battle with Seth’s work. Some of it is inspired, inspirational and intrinsically motivational. Other books and posts seem more polemical, more dictatorial, more out-and-out instructional – the kind of thing that I bump up against. But it always makes me think, which is why I’m so addicted to listening to him talk.

What stuck in my mind listening to this conversation was the same thing that stuck with me in the first conversation Tim had with Seth on his podcast, the same thing that stuck with me the second time Tim had him on the podcast and the same thing that stuck with me reading Do The Work 1 , which seems like the least imaginative and best book title of just about any book you’ll find on the virtual shelves of the Kindle store (if, like me, visiting physical book stores it out of the question at the moment). The idea of showing up every day, doing the work and not making excuses for failing to do something every day has always, always resonated with me even as I’ve consistently failed to do it.

“Just do it” may be one of the best-known and most cited inspirational instructions in the world, but it’s also an inappropriate attitude, Seth says. “‘Just do it’ implies ‘what the hell’, ‘it doesn’t matter’ [which] pushes you to be a hack who’s not responsible for your own work.”

By contrast, “merely” doing the work takes us away from time spent catastrophising the work and its results. And catastrophising is what I do best, both in work and in life. I’ve shied away from continuing to post on here or on my YouTube channel because I’ve been spending too much time worrying about what image I want to project of myself. I’ve worried about how people will see me. I’ve worried about people disagreeing with me. I’ve worried about a lot of things and I am still worrying.

But the worry and the outright fear is stopping me from doing anything. It’s paralysing. So the time has come to start trying2 to spend some time everyday merely doing the work. Merely spending time each day on an act of creation, whether that’s written word on here, a video to share on YouTube or working on the edits to the novel I wrote during lockdown that I’m feeling massive resistance towards.

I don’t want to be afraid of making or sharing my art any more. But the only way I’m going to defeat that fear is, paradoxically, by making and sharing my art.

This post, then, is the first step. One step, every day, will eventually lead me somewhere. Where that is—for now—I’m not sure. I simply know that I can’t wait until I’m certain of my destination to set out because I’ll just spend all my time poring over maps and weighing up the options. Perfection will never happen. The sooner I understand that, the sooner I’ll be able to keep on keeping on.

This might not work. But it also might.

1. This is an affiliate link, which means I get a small amount of money if you choose to purchase the book. If you’d rather not do that, you can use this link instead. [↩]
2. Note: I try a lot of things that don’t work, so who knows where this will end up going? [↩]

January was a terrible start to 2015, but when it comes to the habit change I was looking for, I actually achieved quite a lot and am now meditating regularly.

For February, I’m looking to upgrade my writing practice and stop myself slipping, so I’ll be trying to get into the habit of writing at least 500 words per day.

Writing has taken something of a back seat for me in recent years, subsumed beneath the dense foliage of the working world where the lengthiest pieces I compose are emails on strategy and execution. I miss writing for the joy of writing, I miss writing to solve problems and I miss writing to get people to think, to provoke reactions whatever they may be.

Writing is where my passion lies, that’s where my talent lies, where I’m happiest – pouring out words onto a page to eventually engage and impact, in some form or another, the eventual reader, listener or viewer.

So this month I will be writing something every day. I don’t know yet whether I’ll come to focus on just one writing project or flit from thing to thing, but whichever it is, I will make progress one day at a time, 500 words at a time.

The only rule I’m setting myself is that the words I write must be easily countable (ie, written in a writing app of some kind) and therefore social media posts don’t count and nor does journalling at home, which I hand-write. Emails definitely don’t count.

If things go to plan I’ll be back here in 28 days with at least 14,000 words written for something, somewhere. Stay tuned!

Everyone has a story. If you’re sitting there thinking to yourself, “But I don’t,” – you’re wrong.

If someone asks you where you were born, do you have any brothers or sisters, what you do for a living, you answer them with the start of a story.

How you got to where you are today is your story. Everything we do in life is part of our story, each individual moment just waiting to be put into the context of a whole life.

So don’t try to tell me you don’t have a story.

How interesting your story is depends on many things, not least how good you are at telling it. In the hands of a masterful storyteller even the most uneventful of stories can be fascinating; the phone book can surpass War and Peace.

But stories also depend on living a life worth telling people about.

That doesn’t mean we all have to drop everything and go skydiving or bungee jumping just to have a story to tell. A life worth talking about is simply a life filled with rich experiences, things that make us grow and develop as people, whether they’re good or bad.

Vulnerability can be one of the most powerful storytelling devices. We’ve all read (and got bored with) stories of people doing amazing things, of achieving incredible heights in their lives, or splashing their success on fast cars and globe-trotting. But failing creates powerful stories, too.

Stories are all about connection – connection between the teller and the listener (or reader, or viewer) – and connection comes from creating emotional empathy. So making yourself vulnerable and sharing the things that haven’t gone so well is something we can all relate to: at some point or another we have all failed.

It’s that connection that I love most about stories. They give us the benefit of other people’s experiences to empathise with and learn from. I get so inspired by other people’s stories and I love to share both theirs and mine with the world.

I would love for Smile Through It to become a place for stories of change, of people who are embracing their second chance at life regardless of whether it came about through a huge, dramatic, external force (like mine), or through sheer force of will where they recognised a need to change and set about doing it.

Do you have a story to tell (see above: of course you do). Email me and let me know; I’d love to share it with my readers.