It's that time of year again.

Life goes up and down from day to day and week to week and often there is a feeling that it is going nowhere. So once a year I sit right down and write myself a letter.

It starts with everything I don't feel good about. Health, finance, relationships, ongoing worries and outstanding problems, things I want to do but haven't managed to get round to, as well as new problems which came up in the year but have already been dealt with. My Grandmother used to say that people under the weather need a "good dose of opening medicine", though that was for the bowels rather than the brain. Opening medicine for the brain has just as good an effect. Just dump it all onto the keyboard or paper, and feel a great sense of relief.

The next stage is to write down, under the same headings, all the things that are going well, that I can (or should) feel good about, and examples of the things I've enjoyed during the year. Strangely enough, it is often harder to be honest in this section than in the previous one, because that niggling little devil on my shoulder mocks "You're fooling yourself, it'll go nowhere". Ignore it! It knows nothing! Write down the good stuff, however tenuous!

I've reversed the traditional annual review order of "what's gone well, what's gone not so well", because I found that when I looked at my situation that way round the negatives were shouting at me while I was trying to be positive. Now I get them out of the way first with that satisfying great dump with the mental 'opening medicine', and the positives can come out from the undergrowth, some shyly, some confidently, some triumphantly.

Next comes my forward look. What would I like to achieve in the coming twelve months? NOT goals or targets, because for someone with a tendency to depression specific goals and targets can be counter-productive. The little devil on the shoulder has real fun with them - "Who are you kidding? You'll never make that!", and if they are missed, " Yah, told you so, you'll never get anywhere!". When working on this part, I inflate a meditation bubble around me which pushes the devil off my shoulder onto the floor, where I can't hear it anymore. This is positive me-time! Rather than specific measurable goals which I can beat myself up over if I miss them, I look for things that will make me feel better, with confidence that the universe will bring them. Two wonderful and totally unexpected examples from the last twelve months are this blog and our evening forays into poetry readings and story telling.

OK, we're not there yet! I print out what I have written so far, sit down with a cup of coffee and read it again and think about it. Positively. Then I go and collect the letter I wrote to myself last year (several years of them live locked away from one year's end to the next) and read through that one again. This is the magic moment, the reason for the whole exercise, because every year, however rough it has felt, there has been real progress. And where new problems have arisen, I can look back at earlier ones which have now vanished and say (saying it out loud helps!) "I cleared that, I'll clear this!" It's also good to be reminded that occasionally problems vanish of their own accord. As someone said, "My life has had many disasters, some of which actually happened!"

Then I allow myself to have another look at what I want to achieve in the next twelve months, make any revisions which the comparison exercise has stimulated, brew another cup of coffee while the final version is printing off, then sit down and read it through again. And that's it! No 'contract' with myself, no 'to-do' lists, I just take it up to the black tin box and lock it away until next year, trusting that the boys and girls in the back of my brain have got the message and, inspired by all that coffee, will get on with it!

Nadolig Llawen a Blwyddyn Newydd Ffantasteg!