The Quiet Courage of Noticing

The Quiet Courage of Noticing

What Changes When You Start Paying Real Attention?

Feeling Drained: A Cycle of Quiet Frustration

Over the last few years, each new project felt promising and thrilling, but more often than not, it ended in quiet frustration or outright exhaustion.

I wasn't just tired.

I felt drained beyond measure.

Two weeks ago, I noticed something different.

For the first time since February 2020, I felt genuinely settled, not a sudden epiphany but a steady quieting of my soul.


The Highs and Lows of StoryBrand

Back in February 2020, I'd flown to Nashville for the StoryBrand Guide training.

I left London buzzing, certain I had finally found my rhythm.

Returning full of hope, I started running StoryBrand workshops in London, eager to build something meaningful.

And then, as we all vividly remember, the world shut down.

I painfully discovered that teaching workshops online was nothing like in person—and I was terrible at it.

Each attempt felt like shouting into the void.


Over the next few years, my crew and I repeatedly launched projects, courses, and a fintech startup.

World forces beyond our control eventually killed our investment, forcing us to retreat and lick our wounds.

Fast-forward to August 2022.

My family and I relocated to Vigo in Galicia, bringing excitement and a fresh wave of unforeseen challenges, mostly thanks to Brexit.

Yet, we pushed on, determined to find stability in the midst of constant change.


The Quiet Shift

When I returned from London this past February, I felt drained. But something subtle shifted.

Unlike previous chaotic attempts to "reset," this time, Emily, my business partner in Ohio, and I had spent eighteen months quietly cutting through the noise, fine-tuning our work, and saying no—a lot.

But this wasn't a dramatic cull of projects. It was deeper, quieter, and more careful.

We removed hidden distractions, quietly siphoning our attention to small things we'd previously overlooked due to larger dramas.

Gradually, the forest became clearer, not just the trees.


Essential Habits for Calm and Clarity

Deadwood cleared, I focused more deliberately on essentials:

  • Learning Spanish with my teacher Lucia and practising each Saturday morning with my mate Cristina

  • Genuinely managing my ADHD

  • Tracking my health and weight

  • Writing 750 deliberate words each day instead of panic-driven rambles

  • Going to bed early and reading physical books


How a Bedtime Book Quietly Changed Everything

Here's the thing about reading physical books: I've found them exhausting for most of my adult life.

Despite being an obsessive audiobook listener (with over 1,000 titles on Audible in 20 years), physical books were a different story.

I desperately wanted to read at the beach or park, but my mind wouldn't cooperate.

I could barely manage five pages without drifting.

Gradually, I found a routine that worked—lying in bed at night without my phone. Slowly, that exhaustion gave way to calm.

Do you know that feeling of holding a physical book?

The smell, the weight—it's magic.

Now, for the first time in decades, they're part of my life again.

This simple habit has significantly improved my sleep, eased my anxiety, and given my mornings a gentle clarity.


Rediscovering Honesty with Bill Hicks

Lately, I've been reading "Love All the People: The Essential Bill Hicks."

Hicks' relentless honesty reminded me to put away superficial distractions and focus on what's genuine and meaningful.

Reading before bed helps me meditate, not as an escape but as an entry—a way into my day, not a retreat from it.


Why Stability Is My New Mise En Place

One of my favourite metaphors for stability comes from professional kitchens: mise en place, which means everything is in its place.

Lately, I've found my mise en place again.

Life feels less like frantic improvisation and more deliberate and calm.

This stability didn't come from dramatic overnight changes.

It came from years of tweaking, trying, ditching, and resetting—quiet repetitions rather than chaotic leaps.


Learning from London's Community Spaces

The Business Design Centre on Upper Street, Islington, holds a special place for me.

I recently read Alec Forshaw's "The Building That Lived Twice," detailing how the Morris family thoughtfully rebuilt this landmark.

Forshaw's account underscored the quiet power of intentionally noticing and preserving community heritage, managing to catch lightning in a bottle twice.

Real community spaces, like genuine routines, come from this intentional noticing.

They're not flashy.

They're solid, grounded, human.

They endure because they're ordinary.


The Ordinary Power of Genuine Community

When I think of community, I think of places like Urban MBA on Wenlock Street, Creative Works, or Impact Brixton—spaces that thrive on being noticed, seen, heard, and remembered.

I listened to Michael Lewis's "Playing to Win," which vividly illustrates how invisible wealth and privilege shape youth sports, quietly determining who gets ahead.

It resonates deeply with the daily inequalities I see in London's coworking culture.

You don't build a genuine community by ignoring invisible systems.

It is built by noticing them and actively dismantling quiet unfairness.

Similarly, Gabriel Krauze's "Who They Were" reveals frequently overlooked realities and inequalities.

🎙️Listen to: Gabriel Krauze meets Trainspotting author Irvine Welsh

Coworking and community-building aren't about curated Instagram posts; they're about recognising and respecting real human stories quietly unfolding every day.

Community isn't a perk. It's survival.

Genuine community comes from ordinary actions repeated intentionally: greeting someone by name, noticing when they're off, and offering quiet support.

It's ordinary yet profoundly human.


One Small, Powerful Challenge

Tonight, put your phone away and pick up a physical book instead.

It won't just help you sleep—it'll quiet the anxiety keeping you awake, staring at the ceiling at 2 a.m., worrying about everything and nothing.

Inspired by Bill Hicks' honesty and Alec Forshaw's attention to heritage, this ordinary act—done intentionally—can quietly shift your life.


The Quiet Courage to Notice

So, what happens when you start paying attention?

Your days become clearer, and your mental bandwidth expands.

You stop living reactively, driven by distractions, and instead live intentionally, guided by clarity and authentic connection.

Life shifts from frantic motion to intentional action, from noise to meaningful sound.

Noticing ordinary moments—such as reading before bed, writing calmly, and genuinely paying attention—has gradually shifted me from frantic survival to intentional living.

Hit reply, and tell me what's quietly changed in your day.

And stick around next week; we're just getting started.

Thanks for your precious time and attention today. You matter.



Thanks for your time and attention today!

Bernie 💚

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Written by

Bernie J Mitchell
Bernie J Mitchell
"Email-first community building for independent coworking spaces"