One year into a ‘career transition’
When I meet new people and they ask: ‘What do you do?’ and I say: ‘I rest’. It stills feels strange. Strange because it’s not what you’d expect to hear in response, strange because I notice I am looking for the permission to rest. And no wonder, in a place like London, in a time like ours, in the circles I roam. And yet, it feels like rest is something we need throughout our lives whilst we’re living it. How do we rest inside survival, within grief or flourishing, in the making or breaking of relationships? How do we rest without leaving, beyond distraction and within our means?
I found an uncomfortable place to inhabit, the place where I used to be a designer and I don’t know what I will be next. Some would say they are just labels, and yet they are not — I feel the identities I live my life by are felt inside my bones and grow muscles as I tend to them. So humanly, as you do, I found a way to pin point where I am on the map of change: liminality. It makes it sound good and it gives me an anchor. This is where I am at. I don’t know. And it scares me. I don’t know and I want to go home. I don’t know and I want to stay right here.
There have been things that have helped along the way. I’ve read Herminia Ibarra’s book on Working Identity and her blog post on unconventional ideas for reinventing your career. Enrol Yourself’s Learning Marathon gifted me the people and circle of support that has literally been a lifeline at the beginning of this transition. Parker Palmer’s writing on the Undivided Life encourages me to be bold about showing up for the work I want to see in the world whether that seems possible or not.
I am at the end of a cycle after nine years of working towards becoming a British Citizen, leaving behind my family and the land I grew out of, the grit of one generation feeding the hope of the next one. I am the bridge. I am working in the same job I had when I first came to this country. Do I want to remember what it felt like to be that me? Is this my tribute, is this my acceptance, is this a dedication? Maybe. Full circle.
I will breathe in. I won’t start again. I have all the time in the world.
