The day feels daunting. Your eyes are still closed, but the weight of the morning presses against you, and you can hear the rain tapping softly at your window like a reminder of the grayness outside. You open your eyes. You can see through the window the sky is thick with clouds, heavy and unmoving, casting everything in a dull, muted light. It feels easier to stay where you are, wrapped in the stillness, untouched by the world.

You want to step outside. You close your eyes and imagine the damp earth beneath your feet, cool and rich with the scent of rain. In your reverie, you walk forward, even if the air is thick with uncertainty. The mist clings to your skin, the wind murmurs through the trees, and the sound of water, unseen but near, calls you ahead.

You think of a lake, and it  suddenly fills your vision. You see the surface, once disturbed by the storm, has settled into a perfect reflection of the sky. The clouds, the shifting light, the stretch of grey and cyan—all of it mirrored as though the world above and below are one. The air is not lifeless. You smell the petrichor. You hear the rustle of leaves, the distant cry of birds, the hum of insects hidden in the underbrush—everything moves, continues, carries on.

The sun begins to break through, the grey and cyan sky gradually turning to blue, spilling warmth over the landscape. It touches your skin, spreads across the water, turns the droplets on the leaves into tiny prisms of light. The world is not static. It is not bound to one moment, one feeling, one storm. It moves. It changes.

And so do you.

The rain has passed. The lake remains. The sky is wide, bright, waiting. Take a deep breath. Exhale. Clear your mind, and your heart. Fill them with positivity. Feel the positivity permeate your very being, tingling at your fingertips, crackling even. 

Now open your eyes.  Wake up. Stand up. Face the day with a quiet confidence. 

And … Live.

Let’s move. The space between where you are and where you need to be feels vast, very far away - stretching endlessly. But don’t worry. You do not need to conquer the day all at once. You only need to begin.So start small.Sit up, even if it feels like the weight of sleep still clings to your bones. Swing your legs over the side of the bed and plant your feet on the floor. Feel the ground beneath you. It is solid. It will hold you.Stand.Step into the shower. Turn the water on and let it run for a moment, listening to the steady rhythm as it hits the tiles. Feel the warmth rising, the steam wrapping around you like a quiet invitation to begin again. Step forward and let the water meet your skin, a soft but certain reminder that you are here, that this moment belongs to you.Let it wash away the weight of the night - the hesitation, the tiredness, the thoughts that clung to you in the dark. Feel it rinse away the heaviness that settled in your chest, the sluggishness in your limbs, the doubt whispering that today will be just as hard as yesterday. Let the warmth spread across your shoulders, down your back, over your hands. Close your eyes. Just breathe.There is nothing to solve right now. No pressure, no expectation. Only this moment. The water, the warmth, the sound of your own breathing. You don’t have to feel ready for the day yet. You don’t have to carry everything forward right now. You only have to stand here, letting the water remind you that you are alive, that you are still moving, that you have another chance.And for now, that is enough.Get dressed : reach for something soft, something that feels like you. Maybe it’s a favorite sweater, the one worn just right, the fabric familiar against your skin. Maybe it’s a simple, clean shirt that reminds you that today is new, that yesterday does not have to linger longer than it needs to. Choose something that makes you feel comfortable, secure - whole, even if you don’t feel entirely whole just yet.Button the shirt, pull up the zipper, adjust the sleeves. Feel the fabric settle against your body, grounding you, forming a layer between you and the world. This isn’t about looking perfect or impressing anyone. This is about wrapping yourself...

At this time of the day, you don’t have to be rushed to make your plans. Let me repeat and rephrase that - you don’t have to make your plans right now. There’s no need for a list, no need to map out every hour, no need to push yourself into something that feels heavy.Instead, just ask yourself one question:‘What would make today feel a little bit easier?’Not everything. Not the whole day. Just one small thing.Maybe it’s stepping outside for some fresh air. Maybe it’s finishing a simple task that’s been lingering. Maybe it’s just giving yourself permission to rest without guilt.If thinking about the day ahead feels like too much, then don’t think about the whole day. Shrink it down. Just think about the next step.If writing things down helps, write down just one thing. Not a long list. Not a heavy commitment. Just one gentle nudge forward.And if even that feels like too much, then don’t worry about it. The day will unfold on its own. You are not behind. You are not failing. Here’s a thought - just one small thing. Not a task. Not a responsibility. Just a quiet invitation to engage with the world, to remind yourself that you are still connected to something beyond the weight you’re carrying. It doesn’t have to be big. It just has to be something.Maybe it’s as simple as looking through the window. Notice how the world moves outside, whether it’s still and quiet or alive with motion. Notice how the world moves. Effortlessly, without waiting for permission. The wind carries leaves from one place to another, a journey without destination. The birds glide, not in straight lines but in arcs, spirals, and unseen patterns only they understand. There is no rush, no hesitations - only movement that follows its own quiet rhythm.Somewhere, people are going about their day. A person rushing to catch a bus, another pausing to tie a shoe, someone staring at their phone, lost in a world of their own. Each of them carries thoughts, worries, stories - entire universes within them, just as you do. We move through the same world, but never in quite the same way.The earth turns beneath you - it spins, as it has for billions of years. You the observer - is one person among billions. You are unique. And the world simply moves - not demanding, not...

In a world that often demands relentless productivity and unyielding positivity, The When You’re Feeling Down Book by Subandi Kamis offers a much-needed alternative: permission to slow down, to breathe, and to navigate life’s challenges with gentleness. This book is a deeply reflective, profoundly personal, and yet universally relatable guide to overcoming the stagnation that often accompanies difficult times.  Subandi skillfully weaves together mindfulness, personal narrative, and philosophical wisdom, creating a guide that is neither clinical nor didactic. Instead, it is conversational, poetic, and deeply human—a companion for those who find themselves lost in emotional stillness. His approach is reminiscent of cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) and behavioral activation strategies, but instead of focusing on rigid frameworks, he provides a gentle, intuitive path forward.  The book is structured around small, intentional acts—waking up, washing dishes, walking, painting, preparing food—each of which serves as a metaphor for progress, healing, and self-care. These everyday actions, often dismissed as mundane, become acts of mindfulness and agency. Subandi reminds us that recovery, whether from stress, grief, or burnout, does not require grand gestures but consistent, deliberate steps forward.  From a longevity medicine perspective, this book aligns with what I emphasize in my medical practice: resilience, sustainability, and self-awareness as fundamental to health. Longevity is not just about physical optimisation—it is also about cultivating emotional and psychological endurance. Subandi reinforces this through his exploration of patience, imperfection (Wabi-Sabi and Kintsugi), and finding meaning in transitions (Ikigai and Lagom).  A particularly moving aspect of the book is its storytelling. Subandi draws from personal experiences—his time studying in the UK, his relationships with his family, and the lessons passed down from loved ones. These narratives are both personal and universal, reminding us that everyone encounters moments of stillness, uncertainty, and longing.  For readers looking for a structured self-help book with numbered lists and action plans, this might not be it. Subandi instead offers something far more valuable—a sense of companionship. He does not dictate solutions but invites the reader into a shared space of reflection and movement. The book does not push; it nudges.  Ultimately, The When You’re Feeling Down Book is a gentle yet powerful reminder that progress is not always about acceleration—it is often about finding peace in the present moment and trusting in the return of the winds that will carry us forward.  Dr Pengiran Haji Hishamuddin Pengiran Dato Paduka Haji Badaruddin.Bartley Clinic, Singapore

I am reminded of the doldrums - a nautical term originally used by sailors in the 18th and 19th centuries that refer to the calm, windless regions near the equator, where sailboats, dependent on the wind, could become stranded for weeks. Without momentum, these ships would drift aimlessly, their crews left waiting, hoping for even the faintest breeze to push them forward. The doldrums were more than just a test of patience; they were a test of endurance and perseverance, requiring those on board to maintain the ship, prepare for movement, and believe that the winds would return. And they always did. 

Many of us experience our own personal doldrums, moments where life feels stagnant, heavy, and unmoving. We wake up with a weight on our chest, finding it hard to push forward, struggling to regain a sense of direction. Some days, even the smallest actions - getting out of bed, taking a shower, eating a meal - can feel overwhelming. We are adrift, waiting for a change, unsure when or how it will come.

What you will find written here is for those moments—for anyone who has ever felt stuck, unmotivated, or lost in the haze of a difficult day. Blending positive psychology with storytelling, this book offers a step-by-step approach to moving forward - gently, patiently, and at your own pace.

 Like the sailors tending to their ships in the doldrums, we, too, can prepare ourselves for movement, even when the winds of change have yet to return. The smallest actions, when done with intention, can create momentum, steady us, and gently guide us back to the current.

You will find snippets of my own story, drawn from personal experiences with family and life’s many challenges. While not the main focus, these reflections provide a personal perspective, with insights that I hope will resonate with you, helping you to illuminate your own path and progress forward. 

I leave you, dear reader, with these words: wherever you are, whatever doldrums you’re facing, know that the air will stir again. And when it does, you will be ready.

Pengiran Subandi Pengiran Haji Kamis