My Accidental Sabbatical

Dear Lucy,

I have too many social media accounts. I have to stop myself, almost daily, from creating new ones to post more new content.

So, in an attempt to go the other way, I closed my Instagram account, @Myaccidentalsabbatical, from the time I moved out of London, wandered around for a couple of months and then came home to Fleet, which I genuinely didn’t know I was going to do when I left.

I couldn't bear to completely part with it, so here it is, in all it’s glory.

31/5/2019

Hoping for some inspiration on a train from Cromer back to Norwich (number 1 on my hit list for places to re-settle). Brought these from charity table in Morrisons at station. Left Forster on train... just not my cup of tea. The other book, 'Where are you going?' said something about how a Peacock egg has all the colours already in it which I thought very inspiring but not particularly relevant to my current quest to find somewhere to live.. or maybe it does... any thoughts?

3/6/2019

My friend sent this to me in honour of my birthday... and the sabbatical. I have the hair but not the dog... or the ability it seems to do nothing and loaf around in the park, shoes on or off. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot more 'down' time that comes with not working, but if I'm not doing something 'useful' I'm feeling like I should be doing something 'useful'. Is it possible to ever truly loaf when you know at some point you'll have to work again? Any thoughts?

5/6/2019

I'm surprised how I've taken to coming and going now that I'm loose in the world with no fixed abode... It's true I'm no jet setter.. no Rome, Paris, New York for me. More Norfolk, Yorkshire and Kent. If there were travel loyalty on English trains I'd be a Gold Card member. I'm still looking for inspiration to choose where I lay my hat and call home. I'm hoping that something will become clear... if not, Folkestone is a pretty good place to pick (the home of this disused railway on the harbour arm).

If someone had said a year ago “Claire, why don’t you leave your job and your home and just see what happens?” I would have laughed. I’d have been thrilled at the idea, but such a thing would have been inconceivable. Yet here I am, having somehow drifted into that very situation. As well as taking a sabbatical, I’ve now left my long-term home in London (13 years) and decided that, as I don’t know where I want to live, I’ll float around the country for a bit until I do.

I felt very lucky when I realised I could do actually do this, that this year was the perfect time to be uprooted. And so, I’ve found myself here – in this inconceivable position - because it happened bit by bit and I sort of grew into each bit of space I gave myself (it all started with deciding to have a month or two not working to give myself some air, some space). It’s strange how I’ve been able to breathe into it, and fill it up. The space. I would have feared I would rattle around in it feeling overwhelmed. I suppose if I were doing absolutely nothing then there might be more rattling. But I’m not. I’ve been coaching people, facilitating workshops, writing. I’m hoping to make a living out of these things, or something that they lead to.

I do know that I can never go back to that life – an office job five days a week - one way or another. So, in a way, it’s not really a sabbatical any more, more a complete overhaul. Sabbatical though, sounds a little less scary, and a bit more contained, so I’m sticking with it.

Update part 2 9/6/2019

But even though many people have trodden this path before me, I can’t help sometimes wondering if it’s too late to start again. Do I really have the energy for a ‘do-over’? Exploring and learning are what your 20s are for, when you are young, fresh, blissfully naïve, full of energy, life and passion.

I’m tired, my body is showing signs of also being a bit tired, I feel I know too much – am too cynical perhaps. I wonder can I really just choose a different life, to live somewhere I’ve never lived? I know I can technically, but I’m a human, not a theory. Full of internalised limitations and beliefs about myself and life.

On the other hand, I also feel like I don’t have a choice. I couldn’t keep doing what I’ve done so far. Something had to change. On a positive note, I’m definitely out of the surf and managing to relax into bobbing about on the open sea in my metaphorical boat. It took months to push through the endless worrying about what on earth I would do next, feeling like I was going to get ‘caught’ skiving off work.

Realising eventually that I was, and have always been my own, and the harshest of bosses. There are still a few squalls – of course – but so far I’ve been able to see that what I’m experiencing is just that, something I'm experiencing and not something to be consumed by. My boat for now, is happy just to be out in open water. I’m resisting the urge to hurry to find dry land.I’ve long wanted to update this account of my accidental sabbatical, but there was always just so much to say that I couldn’t quite keep up with it.

So I’ve decided to continue my journey on Instagram where I can drop in much more frequently, without the pressure of writing something that captures everything and hangs together neatly. This journey isn’t neat and it’s something I’m finally accepting.Why share it all? Well, however one may judge it, I am in a unique position and perhaps I might inspire someone to throw things in the air and see where they land.

18/6/2019

Travelling to Yorkshire the old fashioned way.

19/6/2019

This is my recreation of a poster which I recently saw on the tube in London. I was laden with bags and on the move so couldn't take a picture when I saw it. It was just plain black with the words in white. I could see no logo, no '#', no call to action. It makes me think I may have imagined it.

Anyway, I thought "Yes, that would be nice!" Even though at that moment I didn't really need any universal guidance. I was clear where I was going - out of London - and going out of London continues to feel like the right thing. But of course it caught my eye. It reminded me that we all want guidance. We all want help, whether or not we're prepared to ask for it (and ask for it we must). I have asked 'the universe/my inner voice/nature/universal wisdom' etc., for help and for guidance. I've done OK in life, but there's no question I've not lived and now need a bit of a nudge.

So this week I'm in Yorkshire (more on how I ended up here later) and am keeping my eye out for signs.

21/6/2019

So here I am in North Yorkshire. I came here because I picked up a newspaper, closed my eyes, asked "where shall I live?" and poked the page that I randomly opened. Not only did I pick a sentence that had a place in it (chances must surely be small?), but it was a place I like, and in the UK.

So here I am. I've been here all week, staying in Pickering as my base. I've been staying open to 'signs' but haven't noticed anything other than a strong desire not to go to any cities, which was my plan (a small city is what I think would suit me best). So I've hung out in market towns, driven around the countryside in my borrowed car and had a pleasant time. So what next? Perhaps Yorkshire was a diversion from settling for Norwich too soon? (which I was on the verge of doing.) Who knows. I have one day left so there's still a chance my reason for coming here will become clear.

26/6/2019

So now I'm back in Folkestone which has become my second home thanks to my dear friend Jason ... It's funny having a second home when I don't have a first one. In fact I've got a few second homes now I come to think of it, for which I'm very grateful.

Anyway, if you've never been to Folkestone, it's full of art like this lighthouse at the end of the Harbour Arm. If 'weather is a third to place and time', which one is second? I suppose you can choose what time to be in a place, or choose where to be at a particular time. But the time will happen anyway and time is only a concept after all. So the only thing really to choose is the place. My ongoing dilemma. If I could add something to the lighthouse, it would be 'but all are second to people'. A bit earnest, yes, but this is what I'm learning.

Everything I long for is to do with people. I can't explain more as it's something I'm working out as I go along and whilst I'm sure it's not complicated, it's definitely not easy. To be fair to me though, it's easy to get caught up with thinking 'where' is so important. It's a romantic notion, mirrored in the responses of those around me "wow, the world really is your oyster" is the reply. I know I'm lucky to be in this position, one way or another, but the initial excitement of living anywhere, of starting over, is wearing off.

There is real work to be done here. Things I've managed to avoid dealing with coming up over and over again, but at least I can see them a bit easier out of my old environment. The soil around the weeds is a bit looser. So, perhaps for now I should just stay here? Thoughts on a postcard …

15/7/2019

There’s no place like home part 1

So, in a strange turn of events I've decided to go home. Which for me is Fleet in Hampshire. I've had, and resisted the urge for a good few years - at least the last four or five when I was still in London. I thought the urge was based on nostalgia - the idea of home, not the reality.

The reality is that Fleet is a middle class, commuter town, about as diverse as a company boardroom circa 1980. Most people's response to the mention of Fleet is "oh yes, I've been to Fleet Services on the M3". “How can I be remarkable in such an unremarkable place?” I thought. I also thought going home would mean going backwards - meaning I'd revert to being scared, anxious and stuck, as I was 15-20 years ago.

But I’ve realised in this last couple of nomadic months, that the more secure and courageous version of me is here to stay. Finally, although there is a lot of comfort from being near my oldest friends and family, I couldn’t imagine how I’d not fall into living my life around theirs like I used to.

But I know I have things I didn’t have before, things that are mine, I now have my own life that I can take back with me. Like Dorothy, I had to leave Kansas to find it. It's really hard to admit that I've allowed myself to get tangled up in the idea that where I live can change my life. Surely I’m more emotionally intelligent than this? I’ve read every self-help book ever written, I’ve spent a fortune on therapy, I meditate, I’m a Life Coach for Pete’s sake!

Thinking that a place exists where I can be me and finally live my life more fully is such a school girl error, yet, like Dorothy, I realised I’d been hoping and wishing for ‘somewhere over the rainbow!’ Denying the urge to ‘go home’ was blinding me to the fact that that’s exactly what I was doing.

Photo by Ricardo Resende on Unsplash

15/7/2019

There's no place like home - Part 2

Strangely, as someone who fantasises about excitement, riches and notoriety (also somewhere over the rainbow), this doesn’t feel like a disappointment, which it would have done in the past. It feels like a relief.

Who knows, I may still write a best selling self-help book and be interviewed by Oprah, or win the lottery and never have to work again, but I’m also happy that my life might just be ordinary and that's ok.

Giving up all hope of a better past is where it's at. Which is once again for me about being a grown up and accepting what is. I’ll get there.

Beautiful Green Fleet

The minute I made the decision, something shifted. I could almost feel all the beautiful green of Fleet comfort me like a blanket (for Fleet if you don’t know it, is full of trees - jam packed in fact, and I do love trees). It was like I realised I had a home that was more than the people in it, even though that’s largely what home is about - people. It’s also a place I know, a place I grew up in, a place that belongs to me too. It’s a beautiful place really, the place where my love of trees probably came from. (if you like trees too I post on Instagram @enjoyatreetoday).

I don't really have any expectations of being back in Fleet. It’s not a decision that was based on what Fleet has to offer as a town, which was how I was approaching the new and shiny place I was looking for. It's a purely emotional and gut-based decision which means I can't really get it wrong. I may stay a month, I may stay forever, it doesn’t really matter. All I know is, at this point, I have to go back.

Of course this isn’t the end of the Accidental Sabbatical, and really, working out where to live was never really part of the plan, though it could of course turn out to be exactly what it was all about. Has anyone else gone home? How was it?

20/7/2019

I'm about to board my gazillionth train in the past few months and it suddenly dawns on me that despite not having secured somewhere to live yet in Fleet, this is me officially 'going home'. Now, on the train to Fleet, I'm reflecting that life is often like this. Big, significant moments happen when no-one - including yourself - is watching.

1/9/2019

Permission to not know - part 1

I’m sitting in Redfields Garden Centre cafe - my new occasional sabbatical office. It’s a step up from Tesco’s cafe and I feel less conspicuous than being in the Oatsheaf pub with my laptop where I feel like the only digital nomad in the village.

As I sit here, I’m reflecting on just how quickly I became stuck in inaction on returning home. It’s exactly what I feared would happen and one of the reasons I resisted the urge to come back for so long. As I think I've already said, the decision to return to Fleet felt 'right '. Then, without missing a beat, I got home and got tangled up in trying to work out my clear and shiny vision of what my life should look like before I decided what to do next.

There's nothing more debilitating from my experience than this need for certainty before acting. Knowing this old foe only too well, I knew exactly what to do. To remind myself that I have permission to simply ‘not know.’ Not know what my life should look like, not know what my purpose is, not know the meaning of life etc. Then, just do something -  anything.

All the books and advice about finding meaning tell me this - that you just have to do what needs doing, do what you want, do what makes you happy, and the picture will start to fill itself in, the purpose revealed, the life created. It definitely isn’t found by trying to ‘think’ it into existence which is easy to forget when we’re so often told to have a vision and then make it happen. But I could be wrong, after all, what do I know! (nothing.. In case you’re not paying attention).

The immediate relief from giving myself this permission - to not know - was palpable. The pressure was off. Not only did I now have the space to get going, but it also means that I can get things wrong!

Permission to not know - part 2

It constantly amazes me - and by now it really shouldn’t -  how I can seem to learn something so significant, so fundamental, so life changing and then lose sight of it again moments later. In this case that ‘needing to know’ - the desperate need for certainty - can block my ability to act, leaving me going around in circles in my head - a place of certain madness. Like learning to play an instrument, I have to keep correcting myself in order to learn this tricky chord, only with an instrument the evidence that something's off key is much easier to spot.

So I’ve written a note to myself which sits inside the top drawer by my bed. It tells me every time I look in there that I don’t have to know. That I just need to do what needs doing now. Right now. And that’s all. For want of a non-denominational alternative - Amen to that!

22/12/2019

Hi all, thanks for following myaccidentalsabbatical.

And that's it. Reading it back now, I realise that these life-lessons never really get learned. They pop up again and again and I'm sure I'll have more to say about that soon.