The first problem with ideas is that they’re like some kind of virus that you can’t shuffle off. You have one, another breeds, a third follows shortly after that and mutates into something even bigger. Before you know it, your head is absolutely and completely rammed.

The second problem is that unless you’re a well-funded entrepreneur or self-made billionaire, you will never [ever] have the means to make all your ideas happen.

The third problem is that if you’re an ideas person, you’re jealous of your ideas. Intensely jealous. “First girlfriend is talking to my best mate” jealous.

The fourth problem is that if you’re an ideas person, you may well not care (or be very good at) about the implementation of your idea. You just care about the beauty (or at least the beauty that you perceive) of the idea, not the “funding” or the “business plan” or the “route to market”. You couldn’t give a shit about the bit that follows the idea.

The fifth problem is the internet. It makes you uneasy, aware, open. It makes you fickle. It makes you think you can do it – because, hey, building a website is easy, right?

The sixth problem is that your idea has been done before. And you hate that. You hate that the differentiator isn’t the idea, it’s the damn “implementation” of the idea. And although this has always been the case, the internet (see problem five) makes it even more readily apparent that someone else has done it already. Better.

I have to be honest. This is another way of saying this: I’m being eaten up. My head is in danger of going somewhere I don’t want it to go. I need an outlet, and I need it quickly.

So my idea (hey, another one!) is to take my ideas list – my coveted and beautiful ideas list – and just chuck it out there. Stop hiding, make it available. See what happens. I’m expecting nothing. And you shouldn’t, either. (I never said my ideas were any good, did I…)

It’s here, if you’re interested.

I wouldn’t go back to that time for any money at all – it was very dark, very disconnected and very frightening. Feeling out of control is not something I’m used to, or good at, and for many of the early days I was – as is often the case – completely in denial. Ultimately, as always, something good was untangled from the knot I’d got myself into, and I’m now happier and more stress-free than I think I’ve been in about a decade.

It’s ok to have a broken leg, a chest infection or ear ache. As soon as you mention that your brain went wrong for a bit, people start moving away from you at parties, coughing behind their hands and wondering when you’re going to murder everyone in the room. I’m fine now, of course.. ~twitches uncontrollably and reaches for the Prozac~

Counselling is a funny process, surrounded as it is with these taboos and unknowns. I’m a pretty analytical person. That doesn’t mean that I’m devoid of emotion but it does mean that I’m reasonably comfortable taking a step to one side and considering myself in the third person. As I started my sessions, I consistently couldn’t help but examine the counselling process itself. Questions like: “Is this working?”, “What does success look like?” or “When should I stop being counselled?” were in my head all the time.

During the time I was “in session”, I learnt three big things. The reason they’re big is that they resonated with me, and now form an important part of who I am and what I do. The reason I mention them here is that they are likely to form an important part of this blog, too.

The first of these sounds incredibly trite, but is increasingly forming the basis for many things in my life. It is that finding space – mental, quiet, self space – is absolutely key to fulfillment. At my stage in life – two young boys, job, social life, etc – it is extremely easy to just work, watch TV, go to bed, rinse and repeat. I am – slowly – starting to find ways to find silence and space. Sometimes this is late at night or early in the morning when everyone is asleep. Sometimes it is simply about removing headphones and instead finding quiet when en-route between home and work.

The second is that it is important to reach the end of things and to pause and savour the gaps. This is the moment that Donna Farhi talks about between outbreath and inbreath. It is the glow after orgasm, the satisfaction of finishing a piece of work, the out-suck of a wave before the next one comes in. Farhi talks about actively savouring the moment between thought and fulfillment. In the online world, particularly, it is very very easy to think of X and immediately be able to DO X. Savouring the anticipation is a skill that takes practice.

The third is the importance of the present moment. This is kind of a Buddhist point of view, but perhaps because of who I am, rings incredibly true with me. It is so, so easy to spend our time remembering the past or planning the future and forget that we are in the now; and that the now is actually the only “real” thing. Like many people, I find it intoxicating to plan, to think about the projects that I could to, the places I could go, the people I might meet. Thinking about the now rather than all this other stuff takes an active effort.

Counselling has illuminated these three things as synergies between many spiritual and philosophical approaches.

At the heart of these is the notion of awareness – looking around, noticing things, noticing our place in the world, having ideas.

This blog is about these things.