
Most drifts are quiet. You skip one swim, then three. A friend's message sits unanswered for a fortnight. By Thursday you're tired in a way a lie-in doesn't fix, and you can't quite say when it started. Annual reviews are no help here — by December you're reconstructing a year from fragments. A monthly check-in catches the drift while it's still small, and it takes less time than scrolling your phone in bed. What follows are twelve questions, grouped into four areas: energy, mood, connection and purpose.
Why monthly, and why only twelve questions
Once a year is too late. Once a day is too often. A month is long enough for a pattern to show itself and short enough that you still remember what actually happened. Twelve questions is deliberate, too. Any longer and you'll start skipping it, or answering in the voice you'd use in a job interview rather than your own.
Treat it as a pause, not an audit. You're not marking your life out of ten. You're looking for two or three things worth adjusting and letting the rest be. Pick a slot you'll genuinely keep — the last Sunday evening of the month works for many people, as does the first quiet hour of a Monday. Put it in your calendar as a repeating event, and give it a name you won't dread.
Part one: energy
Energy is the easiest place to start because it leaves evidence. Look back over the past four weeks rather than the past four days.
- What gave me energy that I didn't expect? An unplanned walk, a difficult but satisfying piece of work, cooking for people. Unexpected sources often point to something you've been underrating.
- Where did my best hours go? If your clearest thinking happens before ten in the morning and it's mostly spent on email, that's a fixable mismatch rather than a character flaw.
- What did I keep putting off, and why? Delay usually signals one of three things: the task is unclear, it's too big, or you don't want to do it at all. Each has a different remedy.
Not all tiredness is the same. There's the tiredness that sleep repairs, and the tiredness that comes from friction — work you disagree with, rooms you'd rather not be in, a calendar with no gaps. The first needs an earlier night. The second needs a decision.
Part two: mood
Mood questions are harder to answer honestly, because most of us are trained to give the socially acceptable response. Write first, judge later.
- What did I feel most often this month? Not the highlight or the worst day — the baseline. Flat, steady, restless, warm, stretched thin?
- When did I feel most like myself? Note who you were with and what you were doing. That's data you can act on.
- What am I carrying that isn't mine to carry? Other people's deadlines, opinions, moods, expectations. Naming one thing you could put down is often the most useful minute of the whole check-in.
Aim for one sentence per answer. The first sentence is usually truer than the third, which has had time to become diplomatic.
Part three: connection
Connection is the area most likely to erode without you noticing, because nothing dramatic happens. You just get busier, and the messages get shorter.
- Who did I speak to that left me lighter? Write the names down.
- Who have I been meaning to contact? The gap between "meaning to" and "did" is where friendships quietly thin.
- What conversation have I been avoiding? The one you keep rehearsing in the shower. Avoiding it usually costs more energy than having it.
Then do something small within twenty-four hours: send the message, book the walk, ask the question. A check-in that ends with insight and no action becomes a pleasant habit that changes nothing.
Part four: purpose
Purpose rarely arrives as a revelation. More often it shows up in what you keep coming back to — the thing you'd do on a free Saturday, the problem you can't leave alone, the person you keep helping.
- What did I do this month that mattered to someone other than me? Include the small things. They count.
- If nothing changed for six months, would I be content with how I'm spending my weeks? If the honest answer is a shrug, that's worth sitting with.
- What am I saying yes to out of habit? Every yes is a no to something else. Worth knowing which no you're choosing.
How to run it in twenty minutes
- Block the time. A repeating calendar event, twenty minutes, phone in another room.
- Read all twelve questions before you answer any of them. It stops you over-thinking the first one.
- Write one sentence per question. No paragraphs, no tidying up afterwards.
- Circle the two answers that made you pause. Those are the useful ones.
- Choose a single change for the coming month. One, not five.
- Put it somewhere visible — a note on your phone, an index card by the kettle.
If you miss a month
Nothing breaks. Do it the following week and carry on. The point is the rhythm, not the record.
Making it stick
Keep your notes in one place: a notebook, a note on your phone, the back page of your diary. After three or four months, read them in one sitting. The repeated line is usually the real message — the same name missing, the same day you dread, the same sentence about being tired.
Then adjust at the level of the week rather than the year. Swap one meeting for a walk. Move one commitment. Send one message. Small changes survive; grand plans tend not to.
One caveat worth stating plainly: this is a reflection tool, not a diagnosis. If low mood, anxiety or exhaustion persists for weeks, disrupts your sleep or appetite, or gets in the way of work and relationships, speak to your GP or another qualified professional. A monthly review sits alongside that kind of support — it doesn't replace it.
Photo: JerzyGórecki / Pixabay


