Archive for 2018
The year He Jiankui creates the first human genetically edited babies.
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In which I look back at the year that has passed with all its intentions, failures and lessons.
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In which I finish my 18th book for the year and look at the transformative power of reading.
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In which I remember what my one-and-a-half-year-old self already knew when my love of food and cooking is rekindled.
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In which I outline the practical steps and positive results of embracing the beauty of a daily routine.
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In which I finally get back to running, realise how important it is and join the infamous Runner’s Gut club.
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In which I reduce my digital distractions only to realise how many real-life distractions I also have.
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In which I spent a year actively giving space to other people and realising just how much more spatial awareness women have.
I’m a 6′ White Guy, and I Spent a Year Getting out of Everyone’s Way
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In which I ask my friends, family and co-workers to answer a, ‘What am I like?’ survey and reflect on their anonymous answers.
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In which I try to design a tattoo without cultural appropriation and realise that Neo-Nazis are appropriating mine.
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In which my siblings and I get together to recreate childhood photos as a birthday present for our mom.
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In which I see a psychic and accidentally dig up some unresolved daddy issues from the other side.
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In which I try to figure out and focus on what makes me happy.
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In which I spend six months being my own emotional detective, tracking my moods and figuring out what makes me tick.
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In which I answer life’s hard questions, like, ‘Can I eat all the avocado in the world?’ by going on the keto diet.
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In which I get hands-on experience with Transferwise’s new Borderless account and its accompanying Mastercard debit card, spending less money for more value when traveling abroad.
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In which I read, cry, laugh and review Robert Webb’s How Not to Be a Boy.
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In which he looks back at 20 years of writing as this journal of his turns 10-years-old.
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In which I admit to being defeated by my injury and have my place in the London Marathon deferred.
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In which there’s only three weeks left to the London Marathon and I must confess, I’m not sure if I’m ready to run it.
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In which I begin the slow process of reassembling myself.