During my NLP course the lecturer mentioned a book:

Afformations by Noah St. John.

Apparently instead of affirmations you ask empowering questions so your brain stops fighting you.

Brilliant. Revolutionary. Slightly culty but in a charming way.

I ordered it on Amazon with next-day delivery.

Because if I’m going to reconstruct my personality I would like it expedited.

The preface mentioned that good ideas come in the shower.

The shower.

I read that and thought: interesting.

Because the only decisions I make in the shower are:

Conditioner or hair mask?

Am I washing my hair or emotionally spiralling?

Can I count this as productivity because technically hygiene is a task?

For the record I do cry in the shower.

It feels efficient.

Multitasking. Clean body. Emotional release.

Another task completed on the incredibly demanding schedule of a retired middle-aged woman.

But that line stuck with me.

Good ideas come in the shower.

For days after reading it I stepped in expectant.

Today could be the day.

Today I will receive enlightenment between shampoo and rinse.

NOTHING.

No revelation.

No calling.

No divine download.

Just conditioner.

And mild disappointment.

Meanwhile I practiced the Afformation method faithfully.

Why am I becoming more fulfilled every day?

Why am I discovering my purpose?

My brain’s response: Are we though?

Still. I persisted.

But the breakthrough did not come in the shower.

It came in the car.

Driving back from the gym.

No music. No podcast. No fictional hockey players.

Just me.

And suddenly clear as day:

Write it.

Write the agony. Write the boredom. Write the identity collapse. Write the ugly crying.

Write the absurdity of trying to download happiness like an app.

Not because it will fix me.

But because it is honest.

So here it is.

All of it.

The beginning of something I didn’t know I needed.

And the end of waiting for the shower to save me.