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I may bang on about exercise being crucial to mental health but it’s just such a big factor for me. Since the late 90s I’ve been boxing consistently. My New Yorker buddy Ronnie got me into it when I lived there and I started at the newly opened Chelsea Piers Gym on the West Side Highway. 5 mins walk from my apartment. I immediately loved it. The hard sweat. The total focus required. You absolutely have to be in the moment when someone is trying to punch you in the face.

I kept it up when I moved back to blighty and whenever I'd travel for work (which was most of the time), I’d look up the local boxing gym and let them know I was coming by. Surprisingly, boxing gyms are some of the friendliest places on earth. Particular favs were in Buenos Aires, Johannesburg (35C in altitude - hard to breathe!) and LA. I’ve spent a fair bit of time in LA and my fav gyms there are Wild Card where no-one takes any notice of you as you pay your five bucks to train alongside Freddie Roach and the world champs in the cramped upper room and LB4LB where Terry Claybon used to shout "Dominique is in the house!” (he always got my name wrong) when we wasn’t training Denzel for the movie Hurricane. You can get a great group class there.

I’ve never competed and I’m a bit long in the tooth for sparring (apart from some very light stuff with a training partner) these days coz a heavy dig in the ribs can mean sleepless nights for weeks.

Repton is my home gym and after twenty years I still go there religiously every Wed morning with a wonderful bunch of gents in their 40s and 50s. I’ve bonded with these guys over the years and I’d seriously miss this part of my life if I moved away from the city. 

Happy New Year! Did you make any resolutions? I’m on low sugar for a while. I know, so predictable. Me and half the Western world. I think all the sweet stuff over the holidays sent me a teeny bit loopy. Yes, I am blaming the sugar. Nothing to do with disrupted routine, consumerist pressure, political confusion, family dynamics, etc. No, I'm sure it's the Xmas pud. 🤪

I’m also out to finally Kondo my art and photography books. I did the rest of the house last year but I’ve been putting it off coz I like the look of a good shelf of books and it’s hard to let go of nice big glossy books. But wouldn’t it be better for unused books to be loved by new owners? To live happy, productive lives? Above is what I’m up against…

I’ve already done my little books, although they continue to accumulate. This is what I just removed from my bedside…

I know, it’s crazy. I just want to do everything all at once. Focus man! Ok, what stays?The Reggie Ray book (The Practice of Pure Awareness) is ace, My current meditation practice is very influenced by this somatic approach. So that stays. Old favs will be downgraded to the bookshelf. The top one I have to keep. Vera instructed me to read it. I have no choice. (more about that later)

My nephew Jack recently found an old newspaper article and texted me this pic. A bit of a shock.

It’s April 1988. I’m 23. I’m standing on the roof of the old warehouse building in Docklands where we worked and filmed for the British ‘yoof’ tv current affairs and entertainment series Network 7. The early days of Channel 4 when they were being adventurous and diverse.

I wasn’t long out of film school. After a few months sending about a thousand letters to productions companies begging for work and getting the odd running job on a shoot, my girlfriend saw a small ad in the Guardian (no internet in them days) asking for submissions for a competition run by Network 7 to find a trainee director for their second series. With no hope of success, I sent in my little college film.

To my amazement, I was shortlisted with five others. We were summoned down to the big smoke and told we would be flying from the newly opened City Airport to a mystery destination in Europe where we would have one day to shoot a little film to be edited on our return. JVC provided the mini-DV camcorders that were state of the art for home video at the time. A bit of research told me flights only went from City to Paris or Brussels at the time. I planned my shoot in Paris, not knowing what to do if I ended up in Brussels.

Arriving at the airport the six contenders were met by the exotic seeming producer/presenters of the show (including Tracey McLeod wearing a huge wide brimmed hat and jodhpurs). Three competitors got tickets to Paris and three (including me) got Brussels. Merde! We wished each other well. By the time I arrived in a rainy Brussels, I had two hours to shoot something. With no story to work with, I just played around with some of the camera’s effects, strapped the camera to my head with my belt to create a POV effect, and generally shoot impressionist material to make a kind of mood piece.

Back at home I got the first edit slot. Merde again! Without much time to think, I made my film short and sweet, which I think is probably why mine got through.. Watch film here. Two finalists were selected for interviews at the ITV building on the Southbank. I’m not sure what I said. I was nervous. But they called me later that day and told me I had the job. A couple of weeks later I was a professional director on the hippest show on tv.

In a semi derelict brick warehouse the art department had built crazy colourful offices, which is where the staff worked. The space then acted as the live studio for the Sunday 11am live broadcast. We used to skateboard around and throw American footballs across the huge space. On Wed mornings we would all convene on a barge in the docks. Researchers would put forward ideas. Charlie Parsons, the series editor, would pick the stories and allocate producers, directors and presenters. Then we had Thurs, Fri and Sat to research, set up, find locations for, shoot and edit the pieces for the live Sunday show, sometimes working all night to get them finished. Hard work but great training for a young filmmaker.

My current morning routine involves a very important component: not going to bed too late the night before. I talk to so many people who struggle to get a morning routine going. Usually they’re watching Netflix or on a screen till late. I like 8 hours sleep so if I want to be up at 6.30 then I better be going to sleep around 10.30, which means heading that way half an hour before. Sound boring? Not as boring as feeling sh*t.

I nearly always wake up before my alarm at 6.30. Usually I’m grumpy. My head is telling me what’s wrong with my life. Radio Dom. All bad news. I ignore it as best I can, put on my sports gear and make a strong cup of tea. A gratitude list (10 things), a review of my previous day and some inspirational readings takes about 15mins. Then I select a podcast. Currently I’m working my way through Buddha at the Gas Pump – Conversations with Ordinary Spiritually Awakening People. Recent favs: Louis Brawley, Hale Dwoskin, Richard Lang (The Headless way), Cynthia Bourgeault (Contemplative Prayer), Adyashanti (Zen, Non-dualism). There’s over 400 of the things.

I live near a lovely park and a few mins into being outside, listening to the podcast, I’m really enjoying the morning walk or jog. The park is magnificent this time of year. If I’m lucky a call will come through from someone on a similar path. After the walk I’ll meditate for around 20 mins. After that a hearty breakfast – porridge with loads of nuts, fruit, peanut butter, creamed coconut, etc. Unless it’s boxing gym day when I’ll be in the caff with the geezers. After all that I’m ready to start the work day in a good state of mind. Sound like a lot? Believe me I’ve tried a lot of different ways to start the day and this one works for someone like me.