Andy W.

Philip's bit about the gratitude notebook is one of those things that sounds almost embarrassingly simple until you actually try it.

Reading this book, I kept expecting to stay comfortable in my corner — and then a chapter would come along and shift something.

There's something Philip does throughout the book that I find really hard to shake — that mix of wanting badly to believe and refusing to let himself off the hook for believing.

Supposed to be ten minutes of quiet and I spend most of it mentally repainting the bathroom and wondering if I've run out of teabags.

Thought I'd kick off a gardening thread seeing as this time of year always feels like the moment of truth — stuff that's been sitting in packets since January, promises you made to yourself about...