If there is one thing I bloody love it’s a to-do list. I currently have one on my phone and one in a notebook. I should really add ‘consolidate to-do lists’… I’ll write that into both of them, first thing.

How much of today’s to-do list I have been able to cross off can, sometimes, significantly determine whether I go to bed feeling satisfied; with a sense of achievement. Or, whether I go to bed a bit well… disappointed in myself. I’m learning to let go of that and will share my secret with you if you promise to join me and take the ‘Grow with Bruce’ oath (which I am about to just make up).

I [INSERT NAME HERE] do solemnly swear, to recognise I have an ego and to: get to know it, then defeat it; at every possible opportunity.

That’s you signed up, sucker! Ok, ok… here’s my secret. It’s journalling. And no, you can’t have your money back.

You see, the last few weeks and months became really quite unbearable for me with incessant nights going to bed feeling really hopeless, fed up at myself, my lack of focus and progress and then before you know it just giving up and watching ‘Making a Murderer’ for the 3rd time because next to those poor fuckers my life is GREAT. Which it actually is.

As the day draws to an end, everyone naturally will reflect… which opens the door for my ego to come barrelling into my room with his huge size 14s and start kicking some thoughts around the place with very little regard for the fact that I have to sleep… “tomorrow’s ‘to-do’ list won’t do itself you know”. He’s really busy and thinks he’s really important so is jabbering away about all the stuff we ‘should have done’ and how this ‘isn’t good enough’, he’s basically all your worst bosses’ AND teachers’ disgusting little love child and he’s BITTER.

So I sought some professional advice, actually my loving parents stepped in and sought it for me, and one of the things suggested was tracking my mood, in a diary. Literally just a points system, how you felt during that day. The strangest thing would happen; I’d reflect, score and then that would be it. Like blowing the whistle on a game of football. It’s over, done. Sure you can listen to Roy Keane talk about how he would have punched everyone, including his teammates, who were on the pitch that day and yes that’s entertaining but it’s not going to change anything.

I had heard of mostly women journaling so instantly that meant it was not for me. Silly prick. But given the experience I had with mood scoring, I thought I would expand a little and maybe give a paragraph on my day. Presumably I’m not going to sleep so well after doing that I wake up a teenage girl… will I!?

Where my ego is the overbearing dickhead that insists on micromanaging everything… Journalling me is the fucking CEO who has just walked into the office. He’s calm. He’s got nothing to prove. And he has a fucking Montblanc Pen. The kind they keep in glass boxes going through airports, presumably just to keep shit munchers like my middle management ego out.

He’s gliding, like my pen is about to do through my day and starts hitting the ego where it hurts with some necessary;

• Perspective – wait, hang on a minute. You mean to tell me some really glorious shit happened today that we can actually be proud of… well would you look at that.
  Even if it is just something as mundane as ‘went for a walk’ suddenly I am remembering actually how good that walk was by revisiting it. Great day!

• Constructive criticism, not criticism – ever had a really good boss or CEO who you know is criticising you but somehow makes you feel empowered and inspired… so you feel good about the exchange? Usually they say something real smooth like “I know you want to be better than that so here’s what we are going to do” and you walk away thinking “holy shit, I’m being groomed to be the next C E fucking O!” and then you realise they were actually telling you to be less shit, but you will now follow them into any battle (or just around at the next Christmas party, until they notice you again)! This does not come naturally to me by the way, not with other people. It’s a special gift and is why it’s rare. But when I am appraising my day, I instantly connect with the fact that I am a good person and I am trying to be better. You can’t criticise that, not fairly.

• Expression. Sometimes shit hits the fan. And like a fan, it spins around in your head flicking even more shit, all over your fucking freshly painted white walls.
  Get that shit on the page, all of it. No matter how many pages or how much psychopathic scribbling it takes. You need to express it, what better way than calling someone a c*nt somewhere no one has to see but you.
  I used to get angry if people didn’t listen or sympathise with me when I wanted to tell them about how angry this other person had made me. Fully express it, go to bed and make love with your partner.

That is always ultimately the decision. Are you going to choose love, compassion or are you going to sit in anger, frustration.

The new progressive CEO in you embraces things like well being but we all have an ego, that likes to compare us to others, hates the new CEO for what he represents and refuses to accept or go away. He’s been here for such a long time that no one can get rid of him, so get to know him and write some stories about how ridiculous he is, at night, in the morning, whenever you feel ready and able. Read some back every now and again, it might amuse you.

“Dear diary, took an oath today; ‘I Bruce do solemnly swear, to recognise I have an ego and to; get to know it, then defeat it. At every possible opportunity.’ I also wrote a blog that I hope helps even just one person.

Ego: “Yeah but not too many people”

Me: “Oh hi ego, I thought you had gone for the day”

Ego: “Is that a Monblan… yeah I’m leaving early again. Going to buy a new pen before WH Smith’s closes, gonna treat myself to a Parker”

Me: “Oh wow Parker, that’s a good pen, bye then, see you tomorrow”

Ego: “Bye”