A list of 100 things that keep me going

...which I started writing in the cosiest new place I've discovered in London, and you should absolutely visit it, too, if you can.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life, as people say, and I wanted to spend it well. So, I headed to The Poetry Pharmacy, nestled on the second floor of LUSH on Oxford Street. It feels like the right place for me: quiet at this time of day, surrounded by books that promise to heal anxiety and bring calmness and comfort. I’m sitting at a beautiful wooden table by the window, sipping aromatic coffee, and because it’s LUSH, it smells divine.

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This is my writing place at The Poetry Pharmacy on the second floor of LUSH, Oxford Street. A blue notebook is placed next to a cup of coffee and a vase with freshly picked rose and white flowers. In the background, there are people browsing the bookshelves.

A couple of years ago, Tanya Shadrick, the author of The Cure for Sleep, and I were scheduled to have a book event at Waterstones Brighton to discuss our newly published books. But it was cancelled at the last minute (the joy of planning in-person events during the pandemic). I’d read Tanya’s book and was fascinated by one of her self-reflective practices she describes – an idea she’d adopted as a way of understanding herself better. While preparing for our conversation, I binge-read her beautiful writing, immersing myself in all the interviews and podcasts with her I could find. One blog post, titled “Lists of What We Love,” detailed a personal practice of hers that struck a chord with me.

The practice is deceptively simple: take a pen and paper and write a list of one hundred things you love. Simple in concept, yet the act of making this list proved anything but easy. I started on the back page of my notebook, jotting down the things that came to mind effortlessly – dark raspberry chocolate, a cup of coffee first thing in the morning, walks in the nearby forest, reading a cookbook, finger painting for the satisfying sensory experience. The first twenty items were easy. Most of them revolved around family, friends, or simple pleasures I enjoy regularly.

But as I continued, I found myself stuck, unable to express what I loved. It wasn’t a matter of linguistic effort, of finding the right words. I came to realise that I had forgotten what I loved – the people, places and things that shaped the person I am today. In fact, I had lost touch with who I loved being. To continue the list, I had to pause and go back to those moments that had brought me pleasure, purpose and self-acceptance. I wasn’t alone in this struggle for self-discovery.

In her post, Tanya writes:

“It was only towards the end of that day’s long, awkward courting of my lost self that deeper feeling returned:

67. My sense of calm, of rightness, when I sit at the hospice with a dying person.
    [...]

68. Watching myself and my husband age together, this two decades.”

She arrived, finally, at a new and larger perspective of herself and what she was pursuing:

“100. That I am trying to live a connected and considered life after a difficult childhood.”

This last point resonated with me deeply. I too experienced a traumatic childhood, living with an alcoholic and abusive father (I wrote about this experience, albeit as fiction, in Arrival). I too am trying to live a connected and considered life, after piecing together the fragments of a shattered childhood, and rebuilding my understanding of what family and success mean.

Back in 2022, I started the list, but abandoned it, distracted by my busy role in charity leadership and the everyday rhythm of life with two children. I forgot about it completely – until now.

The bookshelves are organised as remedies for a range of ailments, resembling a pharmacy. The books in this photo promise to bring "comfort” and “inspiration”, and the last shelf is called “wild remedy”.

Sitting in The Poetry Pharmacy café, searching for ways to relax my anxious mind and recover from a toxic situation at work, I’m reminded of Tanya’s practice. It feels almost like a sign. When you’re feeling rundown, the best thing you can do is listen to your body and give it what it needs to self-heal—rest to regain strength, fluids to extinguish the fever, nourishing food to replenish you. In the same way, I’m craving a new direction for my life, a path to help me rebuild after the bruises of workplace discrimination I’ve been experiencing for months. Tanya Shadrick’s idea seems like exactly the kind of self-care I need.

So, I make a promise to myself, and to you, to continue this list to one hundred things. Some things will be easy to love, the ones that bring joy and comfort. But others might require patience and courage, those things that feel challenging before they become liberating, that remind me of my purpose, and that shape my sense of self. As I explore the things that keep me going, I’d love to bring you along on this journey.

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What are the things that keep you going? I’d love you to share in the comments. I’m sure some will be shared loves, while others will be unique, quirky, and personal to you. Whether you share your list or keep it close, I hope you find the same clarity I did in taking this time for yourself.

A view of The Poetry Pharmacy from aside that captures tables with books and LUSH bath balls, and the café in the corner called Dispensary.

Thank you for being here. It means a lot to me.

Until next time,
Nataliya x