Back when I was on my six month sabbatical – when the UK was on lockdown #3 and the novelty of face masks and banana bread was wearing thinner than Miley Cyrus’s wardrobe choices – I wrote my first book.

I called it:

Dating for Chessplayers

An unusual topic, you might think.

And you’d be right.

Which begs the question…

Did the book even needed to be written?  Or should it have stayed as an idea, much like the books Lightweight Sandwich Construction, How to Teach Physics to Your Dog, and Peep Show’s very own Business Secrets of the Pharaohs?

Well, to me it felt like the book needed to be written.  And it was easier to get it down on paper than carry the idea around in my head.

So I did.

I’m not sure if I’ll ever get around to tidying it up, getting a cover, self-publishing and promoting it. Lots of other priorities right now.

But I did churn out 40,000 words (half of which should probably never see the light of day to be honest, having just flicked through – although the other half are solid enough).

So why do I bring this up?

Well, I could construct a flimsy argument about the benefits of writing my first book.

Like how it got me into the habit of writing, helped me “find my voice” or how it showed me that this writing malarky can actually be quite good fun. 

But none of these are true.

I certainly didn’t get into any good writing habits, nor find my style of writing, nor even enjoy the process.  Writing the book was an absolute grind.

And as I can’t pin down any real benefits, and as the book stays unpublished on my hard drive, does this mean it was all a waste of time?

Well no.  Not at all.

Why would it?

Because here’s the thing…

The idea that an activity needs to have an ulterior motive to make it worthwhile is, to my mind, complete and utter garbage.

And if the answer to “Why did you write the book” is nothing more than “To write the book”, that’s enough. 

In fact, it’s more than enough.

It’s like saying “why are you going for a walk?”.

Sure, you might want some fresh air, or to take the dogs out, or to top up your monthly step-count average.

But you might just really want to go for a walk.

Nothing more, nothing less.

There doesn’t need to be a reason for doing something other than the fact that you’re just doing that thing.

In fact, it’s where we don’t do things “in order to X” or “for the purpose Y” or “because of Z” that we know we’re doing something purely because we want to or because we love it. 

And these are the activities which are the secret sauce of life.

So I say…

Try to find as many of these as possible.

Fill your life with them.

And ignore anyone who says “that won’t lead you anywhere”, “don’t you have more important things to do?” or “you should be more productive with your time”.

That’s it for today.

 - Tom

p.s. What do you love doing just for the sake of doing it?

Feel free to hit reply and let me know