For me, being in a zoo, makes me think of being ‘comfortable’. You don’t have to look after yourself, you’re fed, given water and even your cage is cleaned up every now and then. But in the (design)industry, ‘being comfortable’ doesn’t pay off in the long run — it doesn’t propel you forward. If you want to really develop you have to be … ’not comfortable’ for a while, and leave your comfort zone.

The first time I did so, was 7 years ago. I caught a plane and left Germany to work overseas. With a friend, I was heading to New Zealand, which is as far away as you can get (and that was kinda the idea). I had nothing lined up, I wasn’t prepared, but I was ready to dive in. The plan was … no plan. So it was a risk. But it paid off. For some reason, by luck or serendipity or because they were curious about a German so far from home, we had a job within three weeks. At a small agency doing the classic stuff: web and corporate. We stayed 8 months away from home, had adventures, and I spruced my CV in the process.

Five years later, I was at the airport again. Germany had gotten stale. And Australia awaited. This time alone, the decision was a bit more serious. I only had a one way ticket and all of my possessions in one twenty kilo backpack.

But after a few weeks in the Big Dry Continent, it hit me. What had I done? I was totally scared, anxious. I had quit my secure, well-paid job, got rid of my cozy apartment in Cologne, sold everything, only a few boxes with sentimental bits were left and stored away at my mum’s attic. This time having no plan scared the shit out of me. I was in shock. I would wake up in the middle of the night feeling numb or simply not sleep at all because I realised what I had done.

There was no easy way out. So I decided to do something completely different to get some distance and myself back on track.

I found a job as a deckhand (I didn’t know how to sail), on a 44ft catamaran and headed out into the South Pacific.

I scrubbed the boat from inside and outside just to start over again. One night, anchoring in Port of Refuge, a deep-water harbour, I awoke because I felt the boat shaking and I heard a weird noise from far away. First I thought someone had started the engines but this vibrating was different, strange. It took me a while to understand that this was an earthquake. The voice on the radio crackled about the magnitude being 6.6 but no tsunami warning. Who would have thought, that you would be able to feel this, with so much water in between.

What was meant to be a month’s work, turned into 22 weeks. I helped to sail the vessel back from the Vava‘u group in the Kingdom of Tonga to Savusavu, Malolo Lailai and the Yasawas in Fiji and then to the wild, volcanic islands of Vanuatu with its amazing culture (and sometimes disturbing past).

On passages I did 2 hour watches every 4 hours non-stop for days, all manually because the auto pilot was not working. I learned to navigate and orientate by night, following the stars, I learned how it feels to be seasick (it doesn’t feel very good), I learned sailing. Yes, this was different.

I forgot all about the concerns I had in Melbourne. I had different problems. I didn’t think about how to get a job and where to live. I was occupied and living.

Next, I found myself approached by clients for freelance work! What the heck? I was on a boat, with a limited access to power, Internet and phone reception. But they’d found me.

My first clients were a skin clinic in Melbourne and a charter company in Fiji followed by an app developer based in the US in San Diego.

I had no time to be surprised, I just did what I do well: leaving my comfort zone.

I had to recharge my laptop when we were motoring, since the solar panels and wind generators could only supply just enough energy for the fridge and the fresh water maker. For sending a pdf presentation I had to react quickly — as soon as I would spot a telecommunication mast on an island — hoping that the dongle which I organised on the main land, would pick up the signal. For phone calls you need to consider another little detail: time zones. However, it worked.

You don‘t necessarily need to meet your clients physically, to build a good work-relationship. Of course it needs some explanation, that tight deadlines won‘t work as usual.

I was genuine and said were I was and what I was doing. I said, “If you want me to work for you, we need to be flexible”. Granted, there’s a bit of trust involved up front and not every client is happy to work like this. But some people do and this is all you need.

I’ve learned a lot in the past few years. Confidence. Strength. Maybe a little bit of bravery. It pays off to leave your comfort zone, you may be surprised.

I came back to Melbourne and I found my people and my niche. I was able to work for some really neat agencies like Cornwell, Cowan, Asprey Creative, The Key Branding and creatives like Jimmy Gleeson. I had a few more clients, who actually found me online and I had also the guts and confidence (maybe learned from my adventures) to say ‘no’ to dodgy people who offered me low paying junior or mid level positions (with a potential green card used as a hook).

Of course I’ve struggled sometimes, but that’s part of the process. Whatever you push yourself to do makes you stronger.

A year ago Investling Ltd offered a sponsorship, therefore a visa. This was a real offer to evolve and to learn. So I did. I learned about effective altruism and better ways to do things. Currently, I‘m working for Bellroy as a digital designer. The title on my business card says ‘Design Ninja‘. I like that. This is a good thing, since ninjas are pretty good in jumping fences …

I‘d like to thank Begoña Sánchez and Michael Knispel for their feedback and help. This article was published in the Boxhorn magazine, a design focused magazine in Germany, in January 2015.