It’s been a chaotic few months, hasn’t it? The dust is settling after our latest, slightly mad, relocation, and as I finally sit down at my new desk – a space I genuinely want to be in (more on that later) – the first thing I realise is that I’m drowning. Not in existential dread, thankfully, but in a horrific digital swamp.

Before you even get into the soul-searching stuff, there’s a confession I need to make: my Google Drive is an absolute shambles. I had such high hopes for my perfect, neatly labelled system. Then life happened, and now it looks like an unsupervised toddler was given free rein with a digital labelling machine. Files for this newsletter are nestled next to scanned utility bills from 2018. It’s the visual metaphor for my brain, really. Contentment and inner peace? Great ideas, but first, I have to find the ruddy  ‘Drafts’ folder.

The Great Unclenching: From Screens to Squats

So, what have I actually been doing in my pursuit of contentment and control (of myself, not, say, the structural integrity of the global economy)?

For a while, my health decisions were governed by the moral fibre of a wet paper bag. The nightly wine, the “just one” biscuit that became half a packet, okay, a whole packet, you got me. You know the score. Now, in a truly shocking development, I’ve joined a gym. And I’ve even been there. I’ve managed to cut down the drinking too. A couple of drinks, tops, and then I find myself nodding sagely, aware of the invisible, yet persistent, phantom hangover lurking in the shadows.

I’m also battling the urge to splurge, given the financial carnage that a house move tends to inflict. We’re finally getting our finances in order, which demands a degree of self-control I’m not entirely sure I possess. I am, however, trying to be less material. Honestly. Though the idea of an Xbox now that I have a nice office does seem terribly compelling. A ‘cognitive benefit,’ I might argue, a genuine deep-dive into digital problem-solving. Stay tuned for that particular piece of self-deception.

Accidental Fasting and the Ukulelidiot

On the health front, a funny thing happened: I’ve become an intermittent faster entirely by accident. We generally eat dinner at 6 pm, and then I have to wait until after my son’s nursery drop-off and my morning work stand-up before I can manage time for breakfast – that is 10 am. No need for a blinking app to tell me I’m ‘in the fat-burn zone.’ I’m just doing it, simply by having a life that prevents me from wedging a giant cream bun in my gullet the moment I wake up.

My weight is slowly, almost resentfully, inching down. This, despite a two-month period of sobriety where it stubbornly refused to budge. Turns out, swapping craft beers for cheese balls isn’t a miraculous weight-loss hack. Who knew?

Perhaps the most human part of this journey, though, is the music. All my proper guitars were locked away, but my faithful Ukulele was within reach. The resulting burst of creativity has left me with five or six songs I actually want to record. The next, terrifying step is the open mic night. Me, a grown man, with a voice and a small, four-stringed instrument. Easy to hide as a bass player, but with a ukulele? I’ll be exposed. The sheer horror of being instantly nicknamed the Ukulelidiot and having to flee East Yorkshire forever is currently the primary barrier.

This site, the writing – it’s all getting there. My ‘council estate noir’ screenplay outline is back on the cards, and I’m even thinking about how AI can be my accomplice to keep this newsletter manageable, allowing me to focus on the human stuff – like whether or not to buy that Xbox.

Right, that’s enough of my left brain unloading its torrent of anxieties and minor achievements into your eyes and ears for one post. Part of this entire website’s agenda is for me to find ways to quieten my mind, not unleash it upon the general public.

So, for now, as we say in the Black Country, Tara a bit.

If any of this resonated—the digital chaos, the accidental dieting, the terrifying lure of an exposed, creative moment—you’re probably exactly who I’m writing for. I have a lot more to unpack, from the cognitive benefits of video games to my surprisingly helpful reading list.

Don’t miss the next instalment of my journey into semi-coherent self-improvement. Sign up for my bi-weekly newsletter below to keep up with the chaos and, hopefully, the occasional nugget of wisdom.