We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding (1942)
I’m writing this from my parents’ house in Glasgow. Scotland will always feel like home — my accent doesn’t lie, even if it has softened over time — so this trip marks a homecoming. It certainly isn’t the end of all my exploring, but I have arrived back where I started, and Eliot’s words resonate deeply.
In February I left my full-time job and decided to take a career break — the first since I started working in 2007. Over the last eight months, I’ve travelled to six countries, taken several courses, reconnected with old friends, made many new ones, let go of old ideas and uncovered a lot I didn’t know about myself.
When I look back on the blog post I wrote, before I left the UK back in March, it tells me a lot about where I was emotionally at that time. In the months leading up to that post, I had realised I was living my life with blinkers on. It felt like I was charging up the escalator at Angel station in London (the really, really long one), my only focus on getting to the next step, and the next, before finally reaching the top. Although by March I had accepted I was burnt out and needed a broader perspective, I was still quantifying my goals in lists, setting myself KPIs, thinking about what I needed to achieve, rather than who I wanted to be.
I had planned to write and share more publicly while I was away, but the process of unlearning, unravelling and coming back to myself felt so raw and the way forward so unclear, I realised it needed to stay with me for a while. If I had blogged from the foothills of the Himalayas in India, I would have filtered and digested the experience into a sunny ’10 benefits of yoga and meditation for your social impact work’, rather than staying present for the changes that were taking place within.
Instead, I poured out my heart and soul into a journal and had many deep conversations with beautiful people who bore witness to my journey (as I did for them) and helped me find the right path forward. Conversations that started with, “I couldn’t possibly try [insert dream activity here], but I’d love to,” often ended with the realisation that I simply had to get on and do that thing. One notable side effect of this is that I now find small talk impossible — and I’ve never been particularly good at it. The much bigger impact is that I left everything that was essential to my old life behind. My marriage, the flat I owned with my ex-husband, my pets, stable employment. Letting each of these go has been heartbreaking and incredibly painful, but absolutely necessary.
An invaluable mentor during my ongoing explorations is Anni Rowland-Campbell. Through her generosity and that of the Intersticia Foundation, I was connected with an amazing network of Fellows. We came together at Goodenough College in London in June for a week’s leadership retreat — the cornerstone of my time out. Here, Anni (and our wonderful facilitators John Urbano and Sam Crock) introduced us to the concept of the Hero’s Journey, first outlined by comparative literature expert Joseph Campbell and brought into the realm of personal development by Scott Jeffrey. If you’ve read The Lord of the Rings or seen Star Wars, you’ll be familiar with this narrative. The images connected with this journey fitted my situation perfectly: hearing the call to adventure and moving from the known into the unknown, meeting mentors and helpers along the way, passing through challenges and temptations, before ultimately being transformed by the experience and returning home.
Having this language to describe what I was going through helped me articulate my experiences to myself and others. The revelations came in a flood throughout the summer and whenever I was unsure of what to do next, Anni encouraged me to, “stay in the grey,” rather than seeking comfort in something more concrete. As a result, I’ve turned down several incredible job opportunities in favour of more travel and discovery.
During a week studying improv comedy at the Hideout Theatre in Austin, Texas, we learned (among many other essential things) to say, ‘yes, and…’ to everything we’re offered on stage. Translating that into my own life, I’ve realised that means I need to be present and open-minded to all opportunities. I have to meet everything life throws at me with positivity and be ready to build on other peoples’ ideas. It doesn’t mean that I should allow others to determine my worth, or take the first role that’s offered to me in either my work or personal life. Having decided both to be single and to work for myself, I’ll have plenty of chances to put this into practice.
Although I’ve valued my freedom throughout my travels, the themes of friendship, community and connectedness kept coming up. When I got back to the UK in early October, I was privileged to stay as a guest at Newspeak House — the London college of political technologists. Newspeak was established in 2015 to study, nurture and inspire emerging communities of practice across UK public sector and civil society. True community isn’t easy to find in London, but in the week I spent at Newspeak I could see it in action. I met people with a wide range of skills and experiences, not all of whom I agreed with ideologically. But everyone I spoke with prioritised creating social impact in the world around them with open hearts and minds. They understood the value of sharing time and food as well as ideas (their Wednesday evening Ration Club is a must) and I felt like I found a new tribe. I’m currently applying to join Newspeak as a Fellow from January.
Last week, I was in Amsterdam for Resource Alliance’s International Fundraising Convention (IFC). This charity, and the vast network that surrounds it, is close to my heart — I was also lucky enough to join the team at IFC Asia earlier in the year. The theme of this year’s IFC Holland was ‘Together We Can’. As I delighted in delivering my masterclass with the supremely talented Ali Walker-Davies and spent time speaking deeply with old friends and new, I realised that when you step off the escalator, take off the blinkers and look around you, it’s the people standing beside you that make life worth living.
I have so many ideas for what I want to do next. As Ed Saperia from Newspeak remarked, “It doesn’t sound like you’ve lost your ambition.” From producing virtual reality performance with Trajectory Theatre, to studying and performing more improv comedy, and teaching yoga classes to benefit causes I care about, I’m sure my life will continue to be filled with creativity and fun.
My passion for working with social impact organisations to shape strategy powered by digital technology hasn’t gone away. I’ve been very fortunate to keep working with great organisations like the Resource Alliance, Goodenough College, Teach First and Dementia UK during my time out. I’ll be taking the next few months to refine my consultancy practice. This is the beta phase — I’m testing what works and I’m open to feedback. And even if Scotland is still home in my heart, London is the best base for this work, at least for the foreseeable future.
It’s hard to sum up what’s changed in me during what some have described as my ‘Eat, Pray, Love phase’. I hope to write more about specific aspects of my time away, as each chapter revealed its own lessons. If I look across the breadth of the experience, I believe I let go of expectations, guilt, shame and fear. In their place I gained self worth, emotional intelligence and love. I realised that I am enough. I made peace with my shadows and stepped into my power. Now it’s what I do with that power that matters.
