In my deepest moments of laziness, I draw inspiration in thinking of what people have achieved in far more precarious situations than my own.

J.D. Salinger worked on The Catcher in the Rye while serving in World War II, carrying parts of the manuscript in his backpack while landing on the beaches of Normandy. He continued to put pen to paper while fighting through the Hurtgen Forest, scribbling between battles. His book, published when he was 32, has sold over 65 million copies to date.

During the same war, Viktor E. Frankl and his family were sent to the Theresienstadt Ghetto, where his father perished from starvation, and later Auschwitz where his mother and brother were murdered in gas chambers. When Viktor was finally released, he became head of neurology at a major Viennese hospital, where he developed logotherapy and existential analysis, key concepts even in modern psychology. In nine days, he also wrote Man’s Search for Meaning, which has sold over 16 million copies to date and is one of the most recommended books of all time.

So when I compare my modern struggles and excuses to them, I quickly realise my stupidity and get back to work.

They say that comparison is the thief of joy, but I think it can also be the birth of inspiration.