Category: leaving work

Posted on

Darkest before the Dawn

The saying goes that the darkness is deepest just before the dawn.

As I sit here in our bedroom in the half light of morning listening to the birds on the nearby lake beating their wings against the water and the sounds of London slowly waking up, I understand that feeling.

We have this amazing dream that after two years of nurture, focus and hard work is now within inches of becoming reality. We are within just a few weeks of packing up our old house, getting in the car and driving with the dog to our new life on the island.We are weighed down with lists and arrangements, with disposing of things, and with decisions.

Although I have now finished work, husband still has three weeks to go and so doesn’t have the luxury of daily headspace to process things. I’m limited by what I can do to help. It’s a huge weight.

Covid 19 is on the rise again with the prospect of further lockdowns and travel restrictions which is adding another spoonful of stress and uncertainty to an already pretty potent mix.

I know that this will pass. I know that everything will get done, and that if it doesn’t get done the world won’t stop turning.I know this. We both know this.

We will find the space to hang on to the excitement of these new beginnings. Even when these feelings of excitement are heavily entwined with the decoupling from our old lives and all that this entails. Even when sleep is dominated with dreams of all the things we haven’t yet done. Even when our bedtime reading is all plumbing manuals and spreadsheets.

It’s important not to allow the “to-do” list to consume every waking moment and to reconnect with feelings of joy at what we are about to do.

Because of course it will all be worth it.New beginnings, a new way of life.The dawn is lightening the sky already.

We will be ready.

Posted on

Decompressing

I’m slowly decompressing from work life.

I feel a bit like a balloon that was filled to capacity and at maximum tension. I bobbed along but was always conscious that everything was taut and there wasn’t much stretch left.

Not much capacity for squeezing in the good stuff, like realising dreams.

In the last week since finishing work I’ve been sleeping a lot. It feels as if someone has undone the knot at the neck of the balloon and is letting the air escape very slowly. I’m feeling as if there’s a bit of room now, with the balloon deflating a little more with each day that passes.

That’s a good thing. It’s freeing up some mental capacity for the lists that we’re building of things that have to be done before the move. Things that will help us realise the dream. Financial planning, changes of address, tools to buy for the build, sequencing the build plans, packing, clearing out things we no longer need. The list is a long one and continually being added to.

Those that know me will smile when they hear that the first thing I’ve bought for the static to keep us on track with the build tasks is a whiteboard…

I can see it now. Cold, frosty morning starts, piled-on old jumpers and big socks, mugs of coffee and bowls of porridge, and a morning stand-up to go through the priority tasks of each day.

Maybe retirement isn’t going to be that different to corporate life after all. Except so much more fun. Agile team leads, eat your heart out 😊

Posted on

The last day

It was such a strange day today. Not at all as I’d expected for my last working day of corporate life. Lockdown and remote working have changed the dynamic of these things so much that days like today just don’t seem real somehow.

It wasn’t a hugely busy day.

My PA had cleared my diary of just about all but the team goodbye meetings, which I did remotely via Zoom. It was a day of thanks, remembrances and generosity of spirit.

And sadness.

I can’t quite get my head around the fact that from tomorrow I don’t need to worry about work budgets, people development, recruitment, resourcing, major incidents, steering committees, security boards, global forums, projects and a hundred other things that have previously consumed my waking hours.

I just need to breathe. Maybe have a leisurely breakfast. Maybe not get dressed until I feel like it.

I can focus on the planning and packing for our croft move.

It’s the beginning of the real adventure.

It feels unreal.