You never have to adopt a colour-coded method or spend two hours on it in order to know how your month really went; all you need are three sincere questions and around fifteen minutes of quiet.

In the past I had always omitted this step; when I was finishing up one month I would simply go on to the next without so much as looking back, since "looking back" seemed like a privilege reserved for people who had more free time than I did—people who had childcare, or a less demanding job, or some sort of buffer that I didn't possess. However, during or about the time of my third period of burnout this year, I realised that the pattern was repeating itself in a way that was difficult to overlook. My tiredness wasn't due to having done too much; it was because I had been carrying out the same unchecked activities over and over again, month after month, without stopping long enough to check whether any of them were actually having the desired effect.

The real danger when nothing is ever reviewed is that you never receive a sudden and dramatic realization; instead, you simply end up with a gradual build-up of work which turns out to be of little value since no one—not even you—has ever checked the figures.

Why "Just Keep Moving Forward" Is Backward Advice

We are told that momentum is the thing we should aim for: keep the streak going, don't look back, keep your eyes on the ahead and push through with determination. For a season at least, this kind of forward-driving attitude can actually take you far. There is a real kind of momentum that counts – one which helps you get past the fear of beginning, past the uncomfortable first weeks of a new habit, and past the stage when everything seems strange to you. I don't want to dismiss that experience for anyone.

Progress isn't achieved if there's momentum without reflection—it's merely motion. You could keep running vigorously in the wrong direction for months and still call it discipline. It's possible to be endlessly and admirably consistent about something that was never going to take you to where you really wanted to go, and consistency by itself doesn't tell you that. Only by looking back can you find out.

I believe one of the reasons we resist this is that carrying out a review seems to involve having to confront an unpleasant reality—such as looking honestly at time that has been wasted or a habit we've been avoiding admitting doesn't work. Therefore, we steer clear of the entire practice rather than face the discomfort that the answer would bring. However, avoiding the situation does not really keep you from the truth about a month that has been wasted; it only postpones taking action on it, which in turn means that you end up repeating the mistake.

I found out the hard way when I was working on The Graceful Abide at the same time as my full-time job. For a long period of time I was publishing, posting, and scheduling everything on autopilot—just going through the motions without ever stopping to consider whether any of those actions were actually getting me closer to my goals. I had a content calendar and a posting schedule. To people on the outside it must have seemed as though I was all sorted out. Yet I hadn't asked myself in weeks whether any of it was actually having an effect or whether I was merely keeping myself busy so that the question never got a chance to arise.

I only came to the realisation that about half of my efforts were being directed towards things which didn't matter nearly as much as I had thought until I had forced myself to sit down at the end of the month and carefully examined not just what had been achieved but also the feeling of carrying out the tasks and the actual results obtained. There were activities which had seemed productive at the time but which turned out to be useless, platforms on which I was appearing out of obligation rather than as part of a strategy, and an entire month's worth of activity which, when I looked at it closely, had not actually got me very far.

The Three Questions That Make Up My Monthly Review

A monthly review doesn't have to use a sophisticated template or rely on a special notebook system, of course, if that's what you prefer—there's no harm in having a pretty layout provided it's actually put to use. All it really needs is three sincere questions, answered without judgment and in private. This isn't about producing content; it's not something you're creating with anyone else in mind. It's simply you taking the time to be honest with yourself for fifteen minutes.

1. What was the real factor in making this month's difference? Not the thing you carried out the most — rather, it was the thing that actually made a difference. It's simple to mix up quantity with quality. You might send fifty emails and none of them have any impact, or on the other hand you might send just one that makes a huge difference. Identify the one or two items that brought about real progress, energy, or a connection this month and focus on what set those apart from the rest of the noise. There's usually a pattern concealed there if you're prepared to look for it.

2. What wore me out and was it worth it? There is a kind of drain that is worth putting up with — the positive, tough type which results from carrying out meaningful work, a kind that makes you tired but not resentful. Then there is another kind of drain which is merely friction: a habit, a commitment, or an obligation that costs more than it returns and that you continue because you've always done it. It is in answering this question that you begin to distinguish between the two, and that simple distinction alone can alter the way you spend next month.

3. What single thing will I do differently next month? Just one thing. Not a comprehensive five-point change, not a complete life reset—rather one small and particular adjustment which you can actually make over the next 30 days. It's important to be specific in this case. "Be more consistent" isn't something you can put into action on a Monday morning, whereas "batch my content on Sunday afternoons instead of writing it the night before" is.

That's all there is to it: fifteen minutes, three questions, and a bit of honesty make up the entire system. Neither an app nor a perfect format is needed, and there's no pressure to present yourself in any particular way.

It has also proved useful to look through the items every month rather than waiting until "I happen to get round to it". I carry out my review on the last Sunday evening, while having a cup of tea, before the first page for the new month of the planner is filled out. By linking the review to an existing part of your routine — for example, your Sunday reset, your Friday wind-down, or the night before you start a new month in your planner — you are much more likely to carry it out than if you leave it as a loose task with no place in your routine.

Give Yourself Permission for a Messy First Review

Your first monthly review is likely to seem uncomfortable. You may not have clear answers, and you might find that you can't remember what you actually did three weeks ago—yet that fact is also useful since it shows you how present you've really been and how much of your month had passed without you noticing it.

That's fine; you won't be assessed on how well worded your first try is since you're developing a skill, and, just as with any muscle, it'll feel awkward before it becomes natural.

A quick way of beginning tonight is to open a blank note on your phone, list three things from this month that you're proud of, include two things that felt heavier than they ought to have, and note one thing you'd like to be true about next month that currently isn't true. That's a monthly review. You've just carried out that review—there was no need for a template, no need for a perfect system, and no need to block out a two-hour slot in your calendar since it doesn't have space for one.

If you wish to carry on from there, the thing to do is just repeat the process next month and then observe the changes. Eventually, you'll begin to notice the same kinds of drains appearing in review after review, and that kind of repetition is precisely the sign you need—it shows that something deserves to be actually dealt with rather than just putting up with another month.

You don't have to have a perfect system when you begin, instead you should start off in an imperfect way and then improve the system as you gain more experience. The majority of the systems that I currently use in my own life—such as the one I've got for this blog, for my daily routines, and for planning my weeks—began as a rather messy first effort which I decided instead to keep refining rather than give up on.