I used to say, with a smug grin I’ll admit, that my plan was the no-plan plan. Where some people have happily followed through on their objectives, I have consistently run down tracks lined in barbed-wire and called them goals, routines and commitment. What I’ve discovered beyond these heartbreaking dead-ends is a canyon between who I think I should be and the dreams that bring my mind and body alive. For the past year, I’ve been trekking along these hallowed crevasses.

Here are a few choices I’ve faced in what felt like a lifetime:

• A stable 9–5 job for a worthy cause vs. the freedom of freelancing.
• Well paying clients committed to consumerism and greenwashing vs. entrepreneurs who question the business as usual who cancel jobs at the last minute.
• A comfortable nook by the ocean vs. vagabonding between shared spaces and unexpected places.
• Making clients happy (a neverending quest) vs. shutting off my laptop before dinner time, free from guilt.
• Hazy drinks into the wee hours with soon to be strangers vs. crossing freezing mountain streams barefoot laughing with new acquaintances.
• Choosing a loved one’s comfort over mine vs. caring for my needs, not matter how boring and unadventurous it might feel.

None of these are opposites really, they just draw a different line, chosen trajectories that sometimes crossover. I’ll refrain from pointing fingers because I would only be judging myself.

So far 2023 has been about novelty. I wanted to write a piece about deciding to switch gears from freelancing against a palmtree clad backdrop to working full-time in a region with heavy rainfall and grey skies. Because it wasn’t just a professional choice, but a deeply personal one.

It’s been about releasing a firm survival-sized grasp on freedom, and sitting in a new space that feels overwhelming and uncomfortable. There have been misunderstandings (linguistic and cultural), limiting beliefs (“I’m terrible at this”, “oh god I hope no-one saw that!” and my all time favourite : “I’m too old for this”), stereotypes (disillusioned digital nomad #3984 has entered the chatroom) but also finding passion, taking a mental break in between sets of excell sheets that don’t make sense, discovery (waves, recipes and concepts like shared governance), and feeling like I’m getting it right — well, sometimes.

It’s been a season of reining in anxiety and depression most days, and letting them run loose like wild ponies on others. It’s a quest to uncover firmer ground to stand on, and to rebuild inch by inch.

Putting this into words felt important because I know I am far from being an exception. The past few years have reshuffled many people’s cards. If there is only one thing you should remember from this meandering prose, it is this : you can carve your path and make choices with what you have. I promise you, you’ll figure it out along the way. Mistakes make for even more satisfying sweet spots, so go for it.

If this overthinker is finally learning to begin again where she is, which is in a country she swore off a few years back and on the ripe side of 35, so can you. A friend once gave me this useful piece of advice: when in doubt just end your statement with “for now”: this is where I need to be, for now.

The Dreamers are Dying.

Because we tell them: “Yes, but not like this, not right here, maybe later. Not too loud either, nor too quiet. That’s too colourful, but make it interesting. Not this way, look at the others, that’s how…”

This is how dreams die.

What if:

We were to show up. Hopeful, rather than careful. Helpful and on the lookout for that spark in the other’s eye when broaching a subject. What if, we weren’t always so hellbent on making this role or this person fit? What if, curiosity and exploration weren’t synonymous with wasted time?

Optimisation and transparency don’t play nice.

“You see, your profile doesn’t fit our scope.”

…

“You see, we are looking for a specialist, with a very particular set of skills.”

…

“We have financial imperatives, you see.”

At last, we’re getting to the bottom of it.

“So, what margin are you seeking out of this project?”

“Oh we don’t disclose that.”

Finally, I see. There is no space here, no time and no resources. The Big Quit is heralding the Big Bullshit. Why? Because we seem incapable of trying things differently.

Opportunities are missed, almost as fast as dreams die. Every job offer has its unicorn, its dreamy candidate to dazzle them all. Behind, sit the real humans. In their deepest heart of hearts, they only want a few things: to contribute, to matter and for their time and intelligence to finally make sense. Impact organizations seem too busy chasing specific skills, and too short on budget or time to train newcomers. Thank you for your interest, but no thank you.

A tale of idle skills and cracked hopes

The corporations so many are resigning from have nothing to worry about. “They’ll be back…” Welcome to the great rehire. This is where we can’t throw in the towel just yet.

What if, each and every single imperfect one of us mattered? We cannot all be rocket [climate] scientists or have PHDs, but we are capable, thinking and feeling beings. While some doors may remain closed, many windows can be pried open. If climate emergency, animal and human welfare, are to be our priority, then making an impact should be accessible to all.