Doing a diagnostic on our daily anxieties

How often are you feeling anxious during the day?

For me, that number has turned out to be a lot higher than I realised.

I came back to Brussels on Monday after a visit to my parents in London. When I’m with my parents, a lot of my daily responsibilities are put on hold. I’m privileged to have a space where I don’t have to cook or clean.

But I had a slight anxiety attack the moment I came back into Brussels. On the floor, I saw a letter in my name, without any obvious sender. Cue a sense of panic.

I haven’t had a scary letter in years. Yet a mix of scary Belgian administration and general internalised fear of being a migrant has taught me to fear these things.

I’ve heard people describe these thoughts as ‘irrational’. But honestly, I don’t think that’s particularly helpful. Saying that our thoughts are irrational puts the blame on ourselves. The reality is that I have had scary letters before come out of nowhere. When I first registered in Belgian I one day got a scary red tax form, and at the time it was extra confusing with the mix of Brexit and a COVID pandemic.

A few years back, I received a separate threatening letter on the morning of my birthday. I even had to sign to prove I received it. It put a real sour note on that day.

It’s no wonder that my brain associates a mysterious envelope with bad news. So to call these thoughts irrational is only to gaslight myself into believing that my feelings are wrong.

Instead, the solution is to rewire the brain. I haven’t had any mystery angry letters for years, and so I can tell myself that I can slowly let go of the worry. I’m following the procedures as best as I can, and no one can suddenly throw me out onto the street. Once I can process why the emotion is arising, I can see that my anxious reaction is no longer required.

In this instance, this letter was actually nothing scary at all. In fact, I misread the name – it was actually for my neighbour anyway. So no need to worry.

I realised that this anxiety check was worth doing on a whole manner of different things in my life. Basic tasks like tidying up have become an anxiety inducing episode. Having gone through a burnout where small tasks feel tough, I lost a lot of confidence around my ability to deal with the most basic of things around the house.

When I’m feeling particularly down in the dumps, simple things like social occasions or even eating can be stressful. So without realising, I’ve built up a lot of worry that can hit me at any time.

Often the solution is simply to just do the thing. Regular tasks like washing clothes or cooking can become very stressful when we spend too much time worrying about them. So sometimes giving ourselves a little push just to get the thing done is worth it to have the relief afterwards.

Other times, we can give ourselves a break. I’ve been doing some language lessons for a while now. I ended up just giving myself a week break from my dutch class because I was feeling pretty walled in. Evidently, doing this too often can start to have a wider negative effect, but sometimes it’s necessary. That extra week took the pressure off.

And sometimes, we have to reevaluate what we said we were going to do. I signed up for some e-learning courses, including one that would be for the next 8 weeks. I realised that I didn’t actually want to do this enough to justify the additional stress it would bring. So I pulled out. Whilst I don’t advocate flakiness, I’m also learning that blindly doing things that aren’t right for us isn’t a good way to go either.

I think it’s worth regularly doing a diagnostic around the things that are bringing us anxiety in our lives. Particularly when we’re going through a period of stress or wider tension. Sometimes. it’s worth stopping with the grind for a while.

But remember, the key thing not to forget is where the anxiety is really coming from. Many people get trapped in the idea that the anxiety is being caused by some magic force outside of us. It’s not. It’s us. Our brains, and the way we interpret the things happen to us.

Doing the deeper work to rewire our brains is what’s really going to set us free.

Avoiding the trap of constant negativity

?????????????

I’m back for a visit in London. I’m here to see my parents. Partly to do my familial duties. Partly to get a free birthday meal. Partly to get the rest of my mum’s cooking back to Brussels.

My last trip here left me feeling pretty bitter. Not for any reason. Instead, it was because of me being angry at UK politics. The issues that had come up felt raw. Left wing politics turned out to be not particularly left wing. Apparently, benefits need to be cut, immigrants are problematic and trans people are bad. Oh and Genocides are apparently not taking place either.

I noticed myself getting into a spiral where I felt quite sour around the idea of coming back. I’d remark of returning to the ‘sinking island’. I’m totally justified in having such an opinion. Indeed, we’re all entitled to one. Yet what I need to be careful of is falling into the negative spiral of seeing everything so negatively. If I’m not careful, it will turn any trip I have here into one of misery and anger.

Our minds can be very powerful tools. They have the power and elegance of a master painter. We can quickly completely change our opinions on things based upon how we now feel.

Does a relationship become less meaningful once we know it is over? We can be tempted to fall into that thinking. ‘Don’t look back in anger’, as a certain Manchester band touring right now would say.

One of the challenges I’ve found in hanging around marginalised groups is how negative they can become. What I first found as a sanctuary, quickly became evident as a breeding ground for negativity. Whilst this is understandable, it is also a trap. The comfort of finding people to complain with is that it further cements you down in your own feelings of negativity and loathing.

I’ve lost people because I disagreed with the way they saw things. Someone once told me that ‘why bother, the world is s**t anyway’. That’s not healthy energy. Nor does it drive us towards a happy life. Bonding over trauma lacks any real depth..

It’s important to realise that if we constantly remind of ourselves of the negativities, that these will also be the creations that we see in the world. The more I focuss upon the things I am angry about, the less space I had to actually enjoy the nice things. And there are nice things.

Being back in the UK, and particular London, is one of the few places where I see more people who look and speak like me. Everything just feels so easy as well. There’s a part of British, pragmatic culture I’ll always miss – especially in contrast to the bureaucratic behemoth of Brussels. I want to enjoy these things.

Yet I’ve also learnt that we can go too far with this as well. Because if we do not see the negatives, we are deluding ourselves to ignoring the real problems of the world.

I’ve been in many different coaching spaces where this approach often bothered me.The answer to the pain of seeing things like a genocide taking place in front of our very eyes was simply to ‘rise above it’. Which is a sophisticated, mental gymnastics way of essentially just ignoring what is happening. It’s all fine if you’re children aren’t starving.

I do believe that there are some enlightened approaches that can be at peace with the hardships and unfairness of the world. Things like the 10 day Vipassana meditation I did earlier in the year felt rather balanced with this philosophical approach.

I’ve come to the perspective that we must not cut ourselves away from the pain. This pain is what tells us that something is amiss. If we do not get angry, we are not driven to make a change.

But we must also not dwell too long in anger, lest it cloud our entire existence. The world does not need another miserable person destroying themselves over a cause that they cannot singlehandedly change.

And so, we must enjoy life. We can honour our feelings by experiencing that anger, sorrow and betrayal. But we can also allow ourselves to move on and live our life.

Another year of revolving around the sun

Photo by Vivek Doshi on Unsplash

Each year, I write a reflective post around the time of my birthday.

This year, I’m not really sure what to say. It is as if my mind has become even more fogged in confusion than ever before.

One of the ironies of life is that the more we learn, the less we seem to understand.

I feel better equipped than ever to explain the phenomena that I see. I’ve observed, learnt, studied. And yet, I seem less about to comprehend it than ever.

As an example, I volunteered to work at a bar the other weekend for an event. It was nice to use my hands and just fulfill people’s orders.

I took one order of four long drinks (a spirit and mixer). The total was 40 Euros. The person didn’t blink an eye. They simply tapped their card.

In relative terms, I know that this wasn’t even that expensive. There are places which charge hundreds, if not thousands for a drink. The same drink that you can buy at a fraction of the price at the corner shop just outside of the venue.

It’s at this point that my logical brain kicks in. There’s all sorts of rational explanations. Social pressure. Inhibited decision making ability. A desperation for ‘letting off steam’ and worrying about the bank account later.

Well, all I can say is that I realise that my brain doesn’t work like that. I’ve been at a festival this weekend and I would rather go hungry than feel the anger of getting ripped off for a 18 euro pizza (that will also probably not actually fill me up either).

Knowing this is helpful. It is progress. But it also feels isolating. I suppose it’s better to know why I don’t fit in than simply always feeling an outsider but wondering whether I am just worrying too much (spoiler alert: I’m not).

My birthday was yesterday. This year, I’ve spent it going to Rock Werchter Festival. Partly because it sounded nice. Partly because it was an easier thing to organise. The idea of hosting a birthday party sounded too complex.

I’ve spoken to friends about how the 30s are going to be better than our 20s. These days, 20s are years of struggle, constant change and financial struggle. 30s have more stability and independence.

I still think this is true, but my early 30s have been pretty rough. So far, most of this period has been filled with a burnout.

For the first time, I have no idea what the next year holds. I have some plans, but I’m making little attempts to look ahead. I’d like to pretend that this is due to some deep wisdom around ‘staying in the moment’. The reality is that I’m too tired.

I have some restrained optimism that it will go better, and – dare I say it – actually well.

But I’ll simply return to the mantra that has served my well in recent history. Let the Universal Law of Nature do it’s thing.

It’ll guide me to where I’m meant to be.

When you can’t seem to ‘have fun’ in life

I’ve noticed recently that my life has been lacking pleasure. I don’t really seem to be having much fun.

That’s not to say that I don’t have access to fun things. It’s more that I don’t end up feeling like I am enjoying myself. And over time, I’ve lost the desire to even try.

Since my burnout, the idea of doing something pleasurable feels fraught with risk. Unhealthy indulgence? That’s bad for you. Nice time with friends? You may not see them again for months. Going to a party? I may end up feeling out of place.

Somewhere along the line I’ve apparently trained my brain to stop giving me pleasure signals. I haven’t been out to a restaurant in months, and I don’t really want to either.

To be honest, eating right now feels like a chore. My ability to understand my hunger signals is very mixed, and I am often very confused whether I should eat, and how much it should be. Right now, I eat for sustenance. I guesstimate what I should eat to stop me crashing.

Getting an autism diagnosis has led me to reevaluate a lot around the way I function. Many neurodivergent people have real challenges with eating. For me, I often have numbed feelings around eating, followed by intense, insatiable hunger pangs. I don’t think I’m particularly sensitive to sugar, but I do have a very sensitive stomach.

For a while, I had accepted my current way of living as the way it will be for the rest of my life. But I also have reflected that I didn’t have such difficulties before. I could eat in restaurants without a problem, and I used to enjoy food far more than I do now.

The idea is dawning within me that I don’t have to be this way. If I could do something before, I can do it again. But that requires me to retrain the brain. I think I need to unlearn my pattern of suppressing feelings of joy and happiness.

It’s interesting because I’m also seeing that there’s different facets to fun. My sense of satisfaction from a ‘job well done’ seems to have returned. It’s what’s driving me to continue with writing my articles here. It’s also what’s getting me to pick up more activities over the last few months. This is probably the one that has persisted despite the burnout.

I also have generally felt better through exercise. I feel healthier, and generally have a boost to my day after a gym workout from the endorphinal rush. I also am far more confident with my body, which means that a lot of worries and concerns have disappeared.

But my ability to enjoy simple, more hedonistic pleasures seems to be eluding me. I don’t seem to really get much joy in the things that I do. Even the idea of a walk in the park or going to the beach has felt more a thing I ‘should’ do, rather than one that I actually want.

For a while I went on antidepressants. The aim of this was to increase my serotonin and effectively ‘snap’ me out of a rut. Yet it became obvious that these weren’t really helping. Although I had a burst of energy, I didn’t really have much desire to do anything with it. And so, it probably compounded the issue rather than helped.

I think the solution for me is quite a simple one. ‘Have more fun’. The challenge is doing this in practice, and doing it in a way that actually really feels fun.

I’ve been to parties, but I wouldn’t describe myself as enjoying them particularly. It then instead becomes about attaining a goal – whether making more friends or instead seeing it as a cardio session to burn calories.

I’ve been spending quite a lot of my spare time playing video games. Yet I’m not sure whether this is really to do with having fun, as much as just distracting my brain by giving it lots of sensory inputs to focus upon.

I don’t really have an obvious solution. If I did, I probably wouldn’t be facing this problem still. So this is definitely a work in progress.

But my instinct is telling me that I’m better off letting the universe take the lead with this one. I’ve found that the more I let go, the more the Law of Nature will take over.

Ironically, such struggles end up working themselves out when we stop fighting them.

Answering the call of leadership (in Toastmasters)

I first attended the Claddagh Toastmaster’s club in early 2022. Fast forward to three years later, I’ve now been elected as the club President for the 2025-2026 term.

I had never heard of Toastmasters until I came across it in a personal development book. It highly recommended as a space to improve yourself, particularly around public speaking. Having spent many years doing Model United Nations during my youth, public speaking was already rather up my street.

Since coming to Brussels, I’ve tried many different clubs and social organisations. Yet Toastmasters, for one reason or another, has been the one that stuck. Perhaps it’s because meetings have a particular focus on structure and timing – this made it feel a lot more conscientious and efficient than other organisations (and no powerpoint either!).

But I think it also is because I’ve felt a consistent opportunity for growth, and a wide variety of ways to do so too. Whether it is to get better at doing ‘table topics’ (unprepared quickfire speeches), completing a new speech project, entering contests or taking up a meeting role.

Often with clubs, we first come with a specific goal in mind. But what keeps us coming back is whether we feel we belong. Fundamentally, Toastmasters brings in people looking to improve themselves. It makes for a gathering of people who tend to be more open. I’m also privileged that the club I attend gets people of different nationalities, ages and walks of life too.

Over the last few years, my Toastmaster club has been a refuge in a sea of political chaos and radical personal shifts. It is one of the few in-person meetings with a regular schedule in my life.

I’ve taken up several committee roles over the last few years. So it’s no great surprise that I ended up President. Indeed, I’d already been asked last year, only for my burnout to wipe away any chance of that being a practical reality.

But this year my energy has returned, and it’s felt the right time. The outgoing President basically started to speak about the next year saying ‘when you’re president’. Sometimes we need these little nudges in life.

From a spiritual perspective, it also feels very much in alignment. I’ve been focussing on living in line with the Universal Law of Nature.

When things feel too difficult, it’s probably a sign that something is not in alignment. But when things flow, they come together so naturally, it’s as if destiny itself has created each step in front of you. Your only job is simply to walk forward. That’s basically what it has felt like with this position.

In all honesty, I’m not nervous about this responsibility. I’ve done other leadership positions before, and I know I have a wealth of experience to draw upon. From a rational perspective, there’s no reason I cannot do it well.

But at a deeper level, I know there is no reason to be worried.

I’ve had months of facing myself at the deepest, most painful and rawest level. My life has fundamentally changed. The past version of me is gone. It’s something I’ve had to also mourn.

Facing myself has been the hardest challenge I could ever go through. And it still feels a challenge today. So, in comparison, any particular challenge in the material world feels relatively minor. Be a club president? Sure, why not.

Some people may label this as having ‘confidence’. But I’ve also heard this as having a ‘knowing’. I know that I’ve faced far greater challenges, and that I have a wealth of skills and abundance for this. So, barring any aberrations beyond my control, I know I’ll do a great job at it.

As long as I stay on the path hat life has set for me, through discipline and diligence, wonderful things will follow.

Feeling the pain of a world in conflict

Photo by Mike Setchell on Unsplash

I’ve been feeling low rather regularly in the last week. It’s really been at odds with what’s happening in my life. Broadly speaking, I’m actually on the up.

Yet as I regain my connection with the world, I also regain my connection with its pains. And right now, the world is in a lot of pain.

Seeing what is happening right now in Gaza is devastating. My soul has been longing for some space for sadness. After a period of time, perhaps I’m finally giving it.

I’ve lived in a political world for most of my adult life. I’ve gotten used to being up close to the messy realities of life. That’s meant a mixture of needing to build a thicker skin, and to some extent desensitising myself to what is happening. This was necessary, otherwise I simply wouldn’t function. But it also means that I can get overly protective of ourselves for fear of feeling the pain so deeply.

My career has been injected with messy politics. I was a European Commission trainee when the UK voted to leave the EU. My first few years on the career ladder was working on Brexit within the UK Government. The next few years we’ve witnessed Black Lives Matter, COVID, the war in Ukraine, and now Gaza. I know there’s more that doesn’t get the attention either: Congo, Sudan, Yemen and others. Then of course there’s US politics, but that would require its own political essay.

There was also the changing regime in Bangladesh. Student protests turned into greater civil unrest. This eventually led to the unseating of the long term Prime Minister, Sheikh Hasina.

I was very anxious last year as to whether the situation would deteriorate into a military style dictatorship. For now, things have stabilised, but we will have to see how the elections go next year. I felt a fool for not knowing how authoritarian things had gotten under the last government. Political opponents were sent into a jailed ‘House of Mirrors’. People would simply disappear to be tortured and starved. The state would deny any knowledge of them.

I’ve also felt betrayed by British politics. A shift from a supposed left-wing government to one against workers, migrants and trans people leaves me feeling disgusted. Not only is it a failure of following ones own principles, it’s also politically dumb. People who vote Reform are not going to suddenly shift to Labour. Meanwhile, previous core voters like me are wondering whether I will ever vote for the party again, let alone at the next election.

This is probably the first time I’ve acknowledged how much political anger I have, and how much this has been weighing down in my body. I’ve had a pain in my throat for a good number of months. It’s a sign that I’ve not been able to truly express myself.

I believe that there will be big social change coming. It may not happen right away, but the increasing amount of societal friction will inevitably lead to a big change.

But in the meantime, it’s important that we take care of ourselves. For some of us that will mean becoming more vocal – going out and protesting and being more active. And for some of us, that will mean withdrawing, reflecting and observing.

I’m certainly more in the secondary category. The idea of attending protests honestly frightens me. Not because of violence, but because of the amount of overwhelming emotional energy. I’ve had to learn to accept that I’m a more sensitive soul, and my skills to make change are better placed elsewhere.

I do wish that this was valued more. There is an implicit expectation, particularly in activist spaces, that supporting causes means needing to be at public demonstrations. If you don’t turn up, it’s because you don’t care. Yet real societal change has required some of us to do the quieter, less vocal and visible work to really implement things.

Alas, I’ve also learnt is not to get too caught up in these details either. The Universal Law of Nature demonstrates that there is a higher working to this all. We do not need to fix the world’s problems on our own. At the same time, at an individual level we still can do good things. And good actions will lead to good outcomes for us and the world.

Truly letting go to something higher means accessing a deeper belief that we will reach a happier, more united society in the end. Many key activists who fought for equality never even saw these things realised in their lifetime. But that did not deter them from action.

So even in times of strife, we can live feeling happy and hopeful. We can both be connected to the pain in the world but still choose peace and contentment.

In many ways, this is the greatest form of protest.

Riding the emotional downs without guilt

Photo by Alexas_Fotos on Unsplash

For the last few weeks, I’ve been waking up feeling pretty ‘ugh’.

The film Inside Out 2 introduced a new character to personify this. The character was called ‘ennui’, with a stereotypical French manner of ‘bof’.

Ennui is essentially a feeling of disinterest and melancholy. It’s a good description of how I’ve been often feeling in the mornings and late in the evenings. (Although I preferred the first film better)

What’s been jarring about this is how much I’ve actually been doing recently that has felt positive. I’ve been feeling healthier. I’ve had some job interviews and progressing with my other projects.

Yet despite this, I often wake up with little energy to start the day. It’s hard to logically explain, because a few hours later, I can feel completely different. I get going with my life. Things feel in flow, and I’m enjoying my existence.

If I spend too much time thinking about it, I can end up getting super frustrated. After all, how can we have so many emotional shifts within the space of a single day?

When I’m back to feeling good, I end up forgetting about the harder moments. This is generally a good thing. After all, there’s little benefit in lingering on unpleasant emotions when they’re in the past.

But I can also be quick to pretend that I’m ‘fixed’ now. I can ignore the general sense of dissatisfaction and fatigue because I’m not feeling it at that time.

This works, until it doesn’t. The tougher moment comes back. I feel low again. But now, I also start feeling guilty. After all, didn’t I just tell people how things are going well in my life?

The more we get frustrated, the more end up spiralling into negativity. We end up asking ourselves rather dramatic questions: What if there’s something wrong with me? What if this is some form of clinical depression? Perhaps I’m broken, and am doomed to feel like this forever more(!)

With a bit of space and perspective, I can see that such thinking isn’t particularly helpful. After all, we can have a very flowing, calm relationship with our emotions. In fact, we all are pretty good with doing so. But we seem to be much better at practicing such a relationship when the emotions are pleasant ones. It’s a lot harder when they feel uncomfortable.

The moment we start feeling bad, we start to analyse ‘why’. Why do I feel bad? What must I do to shift this experience as quickly as possible?

It’s important to give space and time to experience the emotions, whether pleasant or not. I’m feeling life’s shifts. There are changes going on in my life. Some of these are internal to me. My perspectives on life are shifting, and my physical body is evolving. I also exist in symbiosis with the world. The shifting weather is challenging, and let’s not even mention the political climate.

An important part of life is finding ourselves in challenging situations. This truth is no different for me.

So when I feel in a rut, I usually end up returning to the same conclusion. Trying to force myself out of it rarely works. Sugarcoating my emotions with some ice cream is only a temporary fix. In fact, the idea of that doesn’t even appeal to me, because I know that it could end up making me feel worse after the sugar crash (and the guilt of it too)

And so, instead, this is about letting life be. Emotions come and go. But we persist. I’m proud that I can continue with the things I need to do in my life, even if I feel tired or down.

I used to get quite caught up in the idea that I’m meant to ‘figure out’ what’s going on. But I’ve become a lot more relaxed about that. After all, if there’s something big that I’m meant to be seeing, life has a way of showing it anyway.

What the human body teach us about healing

Photo by Yoann Boyer on Unsplash

A few days ago I went to the Osteopath for a pain in my left shoulder.

The pain is nothing new. I’ve had this pain whenever I do a few sessions of yoga. It’s come back ever since I’ve restarted classes a few weeks ago.

The pain itself is not too bad. I can carry on with my life, as long as I ignore it long enough.

And yet, this didn’t seem like the best way to deal with the problem. Perhaps now was probably the time to actually fix it, rather than just constantly managing the situation.

Essentially, my shoulder muscles have gotten bigger than those in the rotator cuff. If I do certain movements such as a plank or downward dog, this causes an unpleasant compression, which pinches the nerves.

I injured myself when I was 16. Like any adolescent in the gym, I didn’t really know what I was doing. I did some behind-the-head lateral pulldowns and at one point felt a tear in my left shoulder. I’ve since learnt that movement is apparently not recommended because it can cause shoulder injuries. Well here I am 15 years later with that exact issue!

This isn’t the first time I’ve looked into the problem either. I actually was getting it looked at before by another osteopath in London. But then COVID struck, and I stopped going. That was five years ago. The problem didn’t magically disappear.

And so, my new osteopath has just given me exercises. This will strengthen that area and hopefully I stop getting my nerves pinched. If it works, I’m hopeful that I can actually sort out this issue.

What was really interesting about the session with the osteopath was learning how much tension I have – both in the area and in my body in general. I can’t say I’m particularly surprised that I’m tense. Having a year of burnout in the midst of political crisis does that to a human. But what is interesting is how that has a direct effect on my body, and more specifically on my muscular system.

The osteopath asked me to ‘let go’ of my left shoulder. I found it very hard to do so. The concept of letting go control just felt alien. To the point where I didn’t even know what she meant.

So apparently, I spend most of the time tensing my left shoulder. I haven’t even noticed I’ve been doing it. It’s funny, because now that I see it, it’s really obvious. I can directly compare it to my right shoulder, where the muscles are working in ease.

This point around letting go was fascinating for me. It’s quite a different way of looking at it than trying to fix the problem.

For example, whenever I feel pain in the area, there’s a few stretches that I do. But I realise that I’m actually overcompensating with these too. It’s as if I’m stretching everything to somehow pull the body back into it’s place. But the aim rather should be to relax the muscles back into their own groove.

When muscles are working well, we feel pretty relaxed. These intricate, incredible internal systems work like clockwork. We have little idea that they even exist, let alone how they properly work together.

But when something goes wrong, it’s only then that we start to analyse the problem. We poke and prod, looking for a way to fix it. If we get frustrated, we start poking harder. But constantly poking can actually just make the problem worse. It’s like an itch that we keep on scratching until we start to bleed.

True remediation is guiding things back to their natural flow. We focus less on the pain, and more on fixing the actual problem so that we can return back to our base state.

This is as true for a physical injury as it is an emotional one. True healing is when the problem no longer arises. A trauma – whether physical or emotional – is no longer felt. It has vanished into the black hole of the past. It no longer becomes a reference point of how we need to act.

But true healing requires more dedicated, deeper work than sticking a plaster over the problem (In my case, I’ve literally been putting tiger balm on my shoulder).

It’s taken me 15 years to finally deal with the issue of my shoulder.

How long will it take you to deal with yours?

Why we need to stop ‘grinding’ for success

Photo by THLT LCX on Unsplash

Competitive culture is getting us obsessed with grinding. The answer to any setback in life just seems to be to try harder. But grinding is not healthy. And often, it’s actually very counterproductive.

It is true that many valuable things require hard work. Healthy relationships, successful careers and good fitness take work. But hard work is different to grinding.

This is something I’ve had to learn the hard way.

Hard work is when we dedicate ourselves to a task. We continue with it, even when the going gets tough. We understand that life ebbs and flows. Appreciating the good moments means also facing the tougher ones.

Grind culture is an over-focus on trying harder. Whenever there is a setback, the answer is just simply to go even more intensely. Push further. Sacrifice more. The problem with this is that it leaves little space for people to consider whether the goal is actually the right one.

One of the big spiritual shifts I’ve had over the last few months is realising that if something is feeling overly difficult, it’s probably not the right path. Life isn’t meant to always feel like a constantly evolving rubik’s cube. Sometimes we have to realise that things aren’t working. If we just keep on pushing, we’ll end up wasting even more time and energy.

I’ve seen the success of a rethink. I’m as strong and healthy as I’ve ever been. But that was because I realised I needed to change. I had been switching through different exercise activities – yoga, dance classes, squash – but found myself not progressing. I would either get injured, or subsequently fear getting injured again. These activities were simply too intense for me.

I thought that if I simply perservered, things would be better. Indeed, even my teachers spoke to me about the importance of being consistent and pushing through the initial discomforts.

Yet after a few years of on-and-off exercise, I had made very little progress. It was confusing, and also discouraging. I would see people who had started well after me progress passed me. Again, I got told that everyone is on their own path. And whilst this was true, with the benefit of hindsight I can now see that the path I was on was leading me nowhere.

And so, I decided to try a different tact. I signed up for a gym, and started working with a personal trainer. Rather than focussing on cardio, I worked on building my strength. It took a few months to adjust to it. But eventually, it started to click. I saw my growing strength, and improving rates of recovery.

In the last week or so, I’ve since returned to some yoga and dance classes. I wasn’t suddenly amazing, but they felt easier. I also felt much better after doing them, which was in stark contrast to before where I felt like I had been hit by a bus.

Sometimes we need to reassess. But we cannot do this if we’re in a grind mindset.

Which brings me to where I’m seeing this same point in other parts of my life. Making a viable business is tough. I knew the odds were pretty low when I started. But I’ve applied myself diligently. I improved my skills, taken courses, experimented with different avenues.

But ultimately, I am nowhere near making it work. And if I’m honest, I see no real route to success either, barring a miracle.

I’ve been working with my dad on writing his biography. I’ve learnt a lot about entrepreneurship. My father was a serial entrepreneur. He opened many restaurants in the 80s and 90s, at one point co-owning around 11 different establishments.

The difference in conditions were stark. Back then, the idea of running a physical shop was feasible. Buying property was also a realistic thing for people too. It felt far more aligned to seeing a realistic proposition of success. When I compare it with where I’m at today, it feels a bit hit-and-hope.

Now I’m not saying it was easy for my father. He had to deal with outright racism, adapting to a new country and culture, as well as far less access to information than we have today.

Yet, I also see that he had a much better set of conditions to succeed in entrepreneurship. Whereas when I get really honest with myself, I realise how much I’m playing a very low percentage game.

Coaching is an extremely saturated market. There are so many out there. Standing out is challenging. 80% of coaches fail within their first year.

I also took the decision to move to Brussels. Whilst this has been great for me personally, from a business perspective I have distanced myself from many personal and family connections. I also feel like it is a town that is less open to this sort of work than if I were to have stayed in London.

Whilst it is a cosmopolitan city, the expat space here can be pretty elitist, and the work culture more old school. If someone wants business support, they’re far more likely to go to the older white guy in a suit. If they want emotional support, they’re far more likely to go to the kind-looking white woman. Although I do believe that what I offer is different, (and to be honest far more valuable), I’m also seeing that, right now, it might be too ‘out there’ for the people around me. The search for a more spiritual perspective is far less visible in Brussels than it is in London.

I am comparatively a lot younger than most people who have managed to build such a practice. I have built connections, but they tend to be more around my age, and so also at a more junior level. Whilst every connection is great, there is a reality to knowing people higher up that can open doors for you.

I also chose a country which is very tax-unfriendly for freelancers and independent workers. To feasibly make above what I could earn in a minimum wage job, I would have to bill around 50,000 euros in a year.

None of these things are insurmountable. But put together, it becomes quite clear about how the path I’m choosing is very hard. For the last few years the answer has been to just simply get better, and learn more. But like with my exercise, it’s probably better to put it on pause.

I’m grateful that I’ve done the work myself, so I definitely don’t see this as a failure. I know there’ll be a time where I’ll get back to doing this sort of work. And I can foresee that in a few years the tide will shift. More people will be looking for deeper work. The connections around me will also have done more of the ‘tried-and-tested’ methods, only to find that they give half the answer. I’ll also be deeper, wiser, and more knowledgeable.

I could see none of this previously because I was so immersed in ‘the grind’. Digging deeper and deeper doesn’t actually make things happen, as can be demonstrated from my experience. I’ve persevered with what I wanted to do, but I am now falling into ‘fool’s errand’ territory.

And so I invite you to look at your own life. Where are you simply grinding away without reflection?

Taking time to reassess whether you’re on the right track could get you to your destination quicker. And if nothing else, it could save you years of pain and struggle.

What’s the point of protesting anyway?

Photo by Duncan Shaffer on Unsplash

For a long time in my life, I found protests pointless. I didn’t really get the point of going out on the street to complain about things. It didn’t really seem to do a whole lot.

But my view has shifted over the last few years. I’ve experienced more political events that have struck me personally. Sometimes protests are simply needed to release a built up level of frustration. Other times, it is important to demonstrate that we are not quietly accepting something that is being imposed upon us.

I’ve built a growing admiration for those who lead protests. It’s not a simple thing to galvanise people into action. Whilst I may not be a personal fan of the oft harsher messaging, I’ve also come to appreciate that my preference for technocratic change is ineffective if it is not paired with radical action to shift societal opinion.

Despite this, I find many protests are not particularly effective. In fact, sometimes they may actually do more harm than good.

Where I see many protests fail is how they end up actually putting off people that could potentially support the cause. For example, I tread activist spaces with a great level of caution: put simply, these spaces can become sycophantic. Your value as a person is directly correlated to how much you agree with the leader. If you are not fully in alignment with the beliefs of the group, you are not One Of Us.

As someone who rarely fits into cliques, it makes things pretty challenging. I’ve become increasingly critical of the climate movement that I see, particularly around me in Brussels. The activist spaces are often dominated by white cis women. Despite preaching tolerance, I experience more racism in these spaces than I do in others. I’ve now realised I’m not actually welcome in these spaces, so I’ve stopped engaging.

Every now and then, I’ll hear about how they want to attract more men and racialised minorities to these groups. But I’ve come to realise that I also can’t help these people. What is actually required is too dramatic a shift in the way things are done. I’ve actually experienced people lashing out at me because they did not like what I said.

I recently saw a post on LinkedIn from a woman, who was wondering why many men do not engage with issues around women’s rights. I replied explaining that it’s such a minefield where men are often worried that they’ll get told off, that they find that they are better off not engaging. I had a lot of men agree with this comment, as well as the woman who was the original poster. But I also had a woman reply to me complaining about my perspective, with an angry tone, something along the lines of ‘goodness grief, men need to pull their finger out’.

Is her response justified? Sure, it can be frustrating to see a lack of reaction. But does it help the cause? Totally not. I literally responded to a question from a woman around why men do not engage on posts. I then got told off for my opinion. Next time, perhaps I shouldn’t bother engaging.

But more practically, I feel that protests often become the go-to response to every situation, simply because people do not want to reflect on their own behaviours, or do some proper planning to agree upon a strategy. When you dig under the surface, activist spaces oft turn out to be filled with the same ego-driven and cliquey behaviour that are supposedly being fought against.

I’ve been reading Moral Ambition by Rutger Bregman. The idea behind the book is to focus on tackling the world’s biggest problems, focusing more on societal benefit rather than personal gain.

We’ve heard the story about Rosa Parks and how she refused to get up from her seat for a white passenger. What we know less about was how the whole movement had been orchestrated for years. Hard work of activism and planning meant that when this happened, there was a concerted effort to make people aware what was going on. 35000 leaflets were distributed in super-quick time. 20 women from the Women’s Political Council went out to advocate the cause. The continuous advocacy meant that Male church leaders (including Martin Luther King Jr) ended up supporting the cause, despite initially being reluctant to get involved.

This worked because people were aligned to the mission. There was broader agreement on what needed to happen, and there was commitment towards it. There was also more of the key organisational work done by people like Jo Ann Robinson. A person who did not do tihs because they felt they needed their names in the history books, but instead were more focussed upon making a real world impact.

Social movements fail because they lack the level of structure and planning to create an effective movement. There is a lack of common vision of what people really want to see happen, and too much cliquey behaviour which ends up putting people off.

Change these things, and you’ll make an impact.