Dear Subscriber First Name,It’s time for me to start looking back. All my life I’ve looked forward. I’ve fallen asleep dreaming of what might come. I’ve made elaborate five-year, one-year, and quarterly plans. I’ve time-boxed my days to fit in everything I most wanted to do. All this future-orientation, when the future doesn’t even exist. There is only now. This year, though, I’ve turned a corner. I still begin the day by planning what I’d like to do, but now I end it by writing a little about what actually happened. In fact, I now spend more time reflecting on what has been than on planning what might be. “Review” has two meanings. One is to assess: what went well, what didn’t, and what I want to change. But the origin of the word is “to see again.” That’s even more important—simply acknowledging that the day happened. A typical daily review for me includes: The main events of the day Any insights, threads, good conversations, or dreams An intriguing podcast, memorable film, or good book Food—any meals worth remembering!
All of this lives in a daily Obsidian note, though it could just as easily be in a paper journal. I open it at the beginning of the day and close it in the evening. I keep an analogue notebook with me to jot down ideas as they arise. Given that there is only ever today, I’ve come to appreciate the day as the ideal workable unit. I like that it’s sandwiched between two sleeps, with a clear beginning and end. We often think today isn’t so important—that what really matters is what we do in a month or a year. But those are just made up of todays. Take care of today, and the months and years take care of themselves. I’ve heard it said many times that we overestimate what we can do in a day and underestimate what we can do in a month or a year. My daily review has shown me how true that is. Recently, I’ve been experimenting with time-boxing. You might know time-blocking: setting aside a stretch of time to write, or do admin, or whatever. Time-boxing goes further—you estimate how long a task will take, then try to complete it within that limit. I make a rough list of what I want to do each day, then try to fit it into my calendar, including lunch, dinner, everything. As soon as I attempt that, I see there’s no way to fit it all in. It’s given me a more objective sense of how long things really take. Some things simply have to come off the list. Before, I would end the day annoyed with myself for not getting everything done. At the end of the week, I gather anything significant from the daily notes into a weekly review—another point of reflection. At the end of the month, I distill those into a more lasting monthly review. Along the way, things naturally drop away. Ideas that felt important at the time lose their charge. Details turn out not to be necessary. But there’s also so much that remains valuable: insights, threads worth following, things I want to keep exploring. There’s a tradition in the Sangha I belong to called “rejoicing in merits,” where you share with someone the good qualities you see in them. Once, someone said to me, very simply: “You learn from your experience.” I’ve remembered it ever since—perhaps because it meant a lot. I’d like to make 2026 a year of looking back, of learning from experience. Maybe all this planning and reviewing sounds rather utilitarian or even boring. But I’m trying to treat it as part of my practice. Sangharakshita, one of my Buddhist teachers, was once asked: “How do I get a mind like yours?” He didn’t say to read all the scriptures or meditate for hours each day. His reply was to simply reflect on everything that happens.
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