Returning to the Page: Creativity, Structure and My Writing Journey

When I first launched this blog, it was with two simple aims: to reignite a creative passion, and to develop a writing rhythm — all in pursuit of one long-held goal: to write a book.

My writing process has always been slow and deliberate. It takes time to find that elusive “writing zone”, and it usually arrives late at night between 10 p.m. and 1 a.m., a time when life finally quietens but ideas wake up and common sense about reasonable bedtimes is thrown out the window (it’s currently just gone 9pm). Balancing this with work, rest and everyday life has been no small feat.

Finding Space and Structure

Blogging offered a solution: a way to carve out small, bounded chunks of time where I could sit down, focus, and complete something. Or at least, that was the plan — before the inevitable email checks and ‘just one more cup of tea’ intervened. It allowed me to find form, to get words on the page, and to move on to the next piece.

And it worked — perhaps a little too well. The blog went quiet for a while and you could practically see the tumbleweed roll across the blog page as I poured all that creative focus into a much bigger project.

Today, I’m deeply proud to share that I’ve completed the first draft of my first book.

The Process of Writing

Writing this book has been more than an achievement; it has been a process of self-reflection and structure. I’ve spent many nights with a playlist in the background (‘Late Night Feels’ — my self-appointed ‘banging’ playlist — was actually built around one single song my bestie sent during a ‘let’s-avoid-work-by-sharing-music’ exchange.), yet another tea beside me, laptop open – sometimes writing fluidly, sometimes getting stuck, but always returning to the page.

There’s something grounding about it — those moments when thoughts start to settle and meaning begins to take shape. It’s similar to how ideas can clarify themselves in a morning shower or a quiet walk: the mind slows, fragments align, and understanding emerges.

As I explored in The Value of Downtime, sometimes it’s in those moments of stillness that creativity finds its flow. For me, writing has become a form of anchoring — a way to bring together thoughts and emotions, to see patterns, to find words for what was previously unspoken. The result has often been relief, clarity and a quiet sense of confidence.

A Labour of Love

This first book has been a true labour of love and one of the most cathartic experiences I’ve ever had. Whether or not it is ever published feels almost secondary (though my inner perfectionist still needs a little convincing on that); the act of creating it has been meaningful in itself.

That said, I am already at work on a second book — one I hope will make its way into the world. But before that, I wanted to pause and honour this process, and the creative part of me that simply loves doing this.

As I reflected in What Do We Mean by “The Self” in Psychotherapy?, there is something profoundly integrative about aligning different parts of ourselves — the thinking, feeling and creative selves — into one coherent whole. Writing has been one of the most effective ways I’ve found to do that.

An Invitation to Reflect

If you’ve been holding back on a creative project or something that’s calling to you, it might be worth asking:

• When is my “zone” of focus or flow?

• What conditions help me to engage with something meaningful without the rest of life unravelling around it?

The start of something new can bring up uncertainty, but it can also carry enormous potential — as I discussed in New Year, Fresh Start: How Reflection Fuels Personal Growth. Creativity, like self-reflection, is a process of returning to ourselves with renewed perspective.

Back in the Room

After this long and wonderful detour, I’m back here — ready to write, reflect, and reconnect. Possibly at slightly more reasonable hours — though I’m not promising anything. In fact, that small detail will go entirely unnoticed as I schedule this to appear on Monday morning rather than late on a Friday night, as I’m writing it now.

Just as therapy can offer a space to find structure, meaning and connection, writing has offered me the same. My own therapeutic writing journey. I hope to bring that energy back into this blog — a space for shared reflection, curiosity and creative growth.