The Parts No One Films

// The Premise

No one films the boring bits - The setting up the tripod, the exporting (which I'm finding now takes an absolute age) - the renaming of files that all look the same but somehow matter and then the arrangement so you know where and when to find that file when it comes to editing - now I like the editing part, it's the bit where I can get creative but that also takes an absolute age and sometimes, it can take hours to nail one particular section.

There’s no cinematic cut for the part where you open the same spreadsheet for the seventeenth Monday morning in a row - which we do every Monday within Yammayap (we run on EOS and it's our weekly scorecard), or where you sit in silence wondering if what you’re making even makes sense anymore because the meeting has gone off track and you're wondering in your own head whether things are actually moving forwards.

It’s boring.. it's the bits which don't actually mean anything really but on the other hand - it's absolutely everything - because that’s where it all happens - all the good that I'm trying to do in my video work and all the grand mission type ideas we're trying to achieve at Yammayap - in the parts no one sees, no one likes, and no one would ever post about, thats where it actually matters.

// The Work that Doesn't Look Like Work

Somewhere along the way, I started confusing visibility with value - the more people can see what you're doing, the more 'valuable' you are and I'm a confidence player. The more I get praise and the more I show people what I'm doing, the harder I try as I want to make those around me happy. I do it on a football pitch and I do it in work, if someone tells me I'm doing a good job, I push harder.

But that lends itself to the fact that if it’s not documented, it doesn’t count. If it’s not exciting, it must not matter and then surely, I don't try as hard?

But that’s not how it works.

Honestly, most of what builds anything worthwhile happens in private - I've been addicted recently to watching Jeff Bezos speeches about his formative years of Amazon on Instagram Reels - listening to the moments that made Amazon, well Amazon and understanding that small feature requests, small adjustments and making sure the team were aligned - these were all little things but they made a big difference.

Everything happens in the unremarkable hours between moments of inspiration.

The problem is - it’s hard to celebrate something that doesn’t feel like progress because there’s no applause for the setting up of folders when it comes to editing a mammoth video and you don't get a dopamine hit from opening that same spreadsheet and filling in the numbers.

But these repetitions - the quiet, ordinary ones - are the reason you can create something worth sharing at all.

It’s just that no one’s filming when you do.

// The Boredom behind the Beauty.

This week, as I cross over 300 days in my Ice Bath challenge this year - I’ve realised I’ve spent a lot of my life chasing the highlights.

The new idea. The big shoot. The “this could be the one” feeling.

But the real growth? It’s never in the highlight reel - I've always strayed away from the consistency and the repetitions because you have to do the same thing over and over again - I've written now consistently for over two years, every single Tuesday I send out a little piece of writing into the world and every single day this year, I've jumped in an ice bath.

Now - with the writing, I know there is no end in sight, no 'final' edition and I'm sure I'll continue on for another two years because the weight of repetition is now greater than the weight of giving up - if I give up now, then what was the point?

But the ice baths - there is an end. I can get to Day 365 and reap the benefits - the sponsorship should take a spike and I should raise a ton of cash for MyTime Young Carers - I can almost see the finish line, the end is near and I'm full of confidence that I will achieve it but when I was at Day 117 or Day 221, no-one really cares.

It's not until you near the end of something that you realise how much work has gone into the process.

It’s in the mornings you show up tired but still start anyway.
It’s in the discipline of staying with something long after it’s stopped being exciting.
It’s in the boredom - that slow, repetitive rhythm that quietly hardens your soul - just like these ice baths.

The irony is that boredom is the birthplace of brilliance - I've had that in the back of my mind since I started the ice bath challenge and since I started writing properly - you just don’t recognise it because it feels dull, not dramatic.

// The Shift

I think what's changed is that I’ve started thinking about my work like a long documentary.

There are the big moments - the premieres, the client launches, the times something you made actually moves people like when I released that video at Creator Day.

But between those scenes? It’s just footage no one would ever sit through. Hours of setup. Notes. Edits. Deletions.

And yet, without that footage, the story wouldn’t make sense - it's the quiet moments in the Big Brother House where people sit around and don't say anything, those moments don't make the edit and really, no-one wants to watch that but I can almost guarantee that the majority of the time is spent doing nothing on those shows.

The boring stuff is the story - people are here for a reason and just because there are those lulls, those dips in interest - the dull, quiet and boring parts are the connective tissue that makes the rest believable.

// The Framework

The parts no one films, no one really cares about, the boring bits - they aren’t the filler - they’re the framework.

They’re the proof that you kept showing up when no one was watching - and I can almost guarantee that no-one watched when I was doing my 140th dip of the year - but the point was that I cared enough to do it again, and again, even when it wasn’t exciting.

I don't want you to thing that because it’s not in the final edit and it didn't make the cut that it defines you - it doesn't - it’s the setup.

It’s not the post - it’s the process.

It’s not the one clip that lands - it’s the thousands you never share.

When I think about it, that’s what connects everything: the videos I make, the spreadsheets I open, the ice baths I’ve stood in when it’s still dark outside and the articles I've written that have the lowest open rate - all of it is just practice in disguise.

Practice for staying with something long enough to matter - it's made a ton of difference to the work I do and I now embrace doing the repetitive actions over and over again.

And maybe, when the story’s finished - when the film finally plays - those quiet, forgettable scenes will be the ones that mean the most.

Because that’s where the real story was all along.