An old friend came to stay with me this summer. He'd just spent the past two years on the other side of the globe, travelling the world, and doing many of the things I wish I had the courage to.
Many things had changed since the last time we saw each other, but many stayed the same. It was more like we'd only been apart for days rather than years. He'd met a nice woman, and now they're in a loving relationship. He said she's an avid runner, so he decided to take it up too. Ran his first marathon earlier this year.
We got onto talking books. He said his favourite was Haruki Murakami's What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. Not the first time someone had mentioned it, but I thought nothing more. Then weeks later I came across this video. It talks about Murakami's approach to reflection.
The idea is to keep track of mundane things, consistently. Allow the depth to unfold in its own time, or not at all. It doesn't matter. Either way, there's still something to look back and have evidence of the journey you're on. The magic of reflection really unfolds when you look back, and realise what seemed ordinary, can later show a depth you never previously saw.
I've been so burned out in the past couple of years it's felt too difficult to engage in a reflective practice again. But I remember how much richness and depth it added to my life. The exhaustion came from trying to force myself to be deeply reflective everyday. Now I'm keeping it much simpler.
This site is my public log of my ordinary life as a single, male, millennial, neurodivergent, teacher living in the North of England. Along with my log-style reflections, I also plan to share blog posts, think pieces, and personal protocols and practices.
May you find some use for this site, and if you don't, I hope it may encourage you to bring some form of reflection into your own life.
Thanks for being here.