My first blog post

So here it is. My first blog post. Gulp…

It’s taken me about a year to find the courage to start this. That’s crazy really, because I love to write. So starting a blog would seem a natural thing to do. But what’s stopped me?

The truth is I never thought I had anything interesting to say. In my head I would hear ‘I’m just a GP trainee’, followed by ‘I’m just a new mum on maternity leave’, followed by, ‘I’m just someone who loves to learn, but has nothing original to say’. And on it went.

But a dear friend sent me this Ted Talk, to try to encourage me.

“You don’t write what you know, you express who you are”, the speaker says.

So, who am I? A GP trainee, a new mum, and someone who loves to learn. So that’s what I’ll write about.

If nothing else, I think my future self might find it interesting to see what thoughts occupied my naïve mind in 2020. And maybe I’ll get one more reader in my daughter, when she’s older (or maybe a mum keeping a blog will be distinctly ‘uncool’?!). Either way, it’s enough…

Why is it called Rule No. 6?

It comes from a book I’ve just finished which I loved, by conductor Benjamin Zander. (If you don’t have time to read his book try this fantastic talk, or this one, or perhaps this podcast).

Ben tells this story:

Two Prime Ministers sitting in a room discussing affairs of state.  Suddenly a man bursts in, apoplectic with fury, shouting and stamping and banging his fist on the desk.  The resident prime minister admonishes him: “Peter,” he says, “kindly remember Rule Number 6,” whereupon Peter is instantly restored to complete calm, apologises, and withdraws. 

The politicians return to their conversation, only to be interrupted yet again by a hysterical woman gesticulating wildly, her hair flying.  Again, the intruder is greeted with the words: “Marie, please remember Rule Number 6.” 

Complete calm descends once more, and she too withdraws with a bow and an apology.  When the scene is repeated for a third time, the visiting prime minister addresses his colleague: “My dear friend, I’ve seen many things in my life, but never anything as remarkable as this. Would you be willing to share with me the secret of this Rule Number 6?” 

“Very simple,” replies the resident prime minister. 

“Rule Number 6 is ‘Don’t take yourself so damn seriously.’ ” 

“Ah,” says his visitor, “that is a fine rule.” 

After a moment of pondering, he inquires, “And what, may I ask, are the other rules?”

 … “There aren’t any.”

OK, so confession number one. I better start this blog as I mean to go on, with complete honesty: I’m not sure I fully understand the story. I think the last statement is something about lightening up, because you don’t need to worry about knowing every rule?! Anyway, the gist of it stuck in my head for several days after finishing the book.

Rule Number 6 is simply this: not to take yourself so seriously. I vowed to try.

It’s not particularly novel, and yet I’ve found it coming to my mind several times since I first heard this story. When I’m worrying about my new parenting skills, worrying about going back to work as a mum, and worrying about whether to start a blog…. ‘Rule Number 6’ has come floating back, and I feel a weight lift off my shoulders slightly.

In the end, I realised something. I want my daughter to be able to laugh at her mistakes, to lighten up when things get complicated, and not to ‘sweat the small stuff’. So I realised I better start trying myself.

It’s taken me a year to find the courage to start a blog. The truth is, I worried I didn’t have the energy to deal with the flak that might come with it. And who am I to think I might have something worth sharing?

The world of blogs has meant that we might attract more of an audience with our reflections than before, but that’s all they are really- reflections. Shared experiences from things I’ve been through or what I’ve read, that may or may not be useful to someone else. Just like conversations that have been going on for millennia when we might have had grandparents in the house, or neighbours who came round for tea. Except somehow seeing words on a screen for anyone to see was suddenly very permanent, and a bit overwhelming.

But Rule Number 6 kept finding it’s way back to me, and this image of Ben Zander (the author) clearly throwing himself into his passion with gusto. Why do I have to take myself so seriously?

Conductor Ben Zander, author of The Art of Possibility

This blog is called Rule Number 6 to remind me of this every time I write. I’m hoping it will remind me I don’t have to have anything particularly profound to say, I don’t need to show it to anyone to check it’s not complete nonsense, and I don’t need to panic if no one reads it. With each post I will try to share a question, based on something I have learnt or observed that has made me change my own thinking.

So this week: what could you apply Rule Number 6 to? Has taking yourself too seriously stopped you doing something you’ve always wanted to do?

I’m still sitting here wondering if I should even press publish. Maybe writing it for me is enough?!

Nope.

Rule Number 6. Start as I mean to go on, so here it goes….