Thirty things. One sitting. No editing until you hit thirty.

Every list is thirty items long. Not twenty-eight because you ran dry, not thirty-five because you got going. Thirty. The number is the whole discipline: it forces you past the obvious answers into the ones you did not know you had.

I have written hundreds of these. Most Sundays for years. Some were about travel and some were about money and a few were about the parts of a marriage nobody photographs. The honest ones cost the most to write and they are the only ones anyone remembers.

You do not need a subscription or an app or my permission. You need thirty numbered lines and one uncomfortable prompt. Pick a corner of your life you have been avoiding, title it, and do not stop until item thirty. Item thirty is where the truth usually is.