The last day

The last day had an odd dream-like quality. There should have been dark skies, drizzle and heavy traffic. Instead, I soared and swooped over the top of the Downs in brilliant sunshine. At work, the few of us left congregated and sat on desks chatting easily. At times the smiles were a touch rueful, but we were smiling. The mood was of gentle optimism, and plans for the future were shared. One, who had been struggling to balance the needs of a disabled husband and a demanding job, said she wasn't ready for retirement yet and was starting work as a volunteer at a refuge for the homeless. Another said she longed to return to her original interest in oncology, and was looking for work in this area. A colleague, recently emerged from the depths of s stress-related illness, was starting up a business offering life-coaching and support to others in a similar situation. I pondered over how it was possible to work with someone for years yet know so little of their dreams.

We wandered off at some point to a local pub for lunch (no hurrying the staff to serve us quickly, no anxious glances at watches, no mutterings about meetings), then eventually strolled back down tree-lined roads and through the heavy black security gates for the last time. A few last photos: P grinning next to the empty red double-decker lunchtime bus, a view of the the drive with its imposing cedars, all of us on the steps in front of the art-deco building where it all started eighty years ago. Then, gradually, people said goodbye and drifted away one by one. As I drove home the sun was hot though the windscreen and I felt like I was floating. Louis Armstrong came on the radio. "We have all the time in the world". Yes, I thought. That is exactly how I feel.

Dearly departed

Three more days to work. About four more weeks before we move to the sticks. The trouble with getting what you want is…well, then you don’t have any more excuses. “Oh, if I only didn’t have to work for a few months and I lived in a beautiful cottage in the country, then my son could have the perfect childhood, and I would have the time and space to write, and everything would just be perfect perfect perfect…”

So here I am. As my grandmother would say (after checking no-one else could hear), “shit or get off the pot”. No more excuses. Today, what seemed like seemed like ocean-wide ocean-deep endless time, stretching ceaselessly before me, well, it seems like no time at all. I can hear the thud-thud-thud of a clock and I’m panicking. I’m worried that I don’t have a clear enough idea about what I will do. I think that maybe (no maybe) I should have done a lot more preparation. Should have thought more, planned more. Done more.

I’m finding it hard to focus today. I’ve spent most of the last few months working from home, as have others, going into the office once a week. Mostly because it’s a lot easier (and I can get away with it now), but also if I’m being strictly honest, because it’s just so depressing. We don’t even have leaving parties now, people just send an email, then…that’s it. My work family. Some people I’ve been friends with for years. Gone. With social media, we keep in touch, but that also makes what is happening seem more removed.

Someone made a chart on the wall, “Dearly Departed” in gothic script, with the name plates below of everyone as they left. It started out as darkly humorous, but when they posted a picture of it on leaving themselves last Friday (no fanfare, no-one there that day) reality came back with a thump. I have absolutely no love for the corporation, but I do love the people I worked with. It’s much easier when you chose to leave a job, to leave people behind, because those people are still there. Next Monday everyone will be gone. A site that had over 1000 employees will be silent.

I’m not sure where this post is going, so I’m going to sign off now.

Possibilities, hope and wonder

Someone once said “when life hands you lemons, make lemonade”. Someone else said “when life hands you lemons, make grape juice and watch while the world asks you how you did it”. I prefer this version. It speaks to me of possibilities, hope, wonder, and a huge dose of optimism.

In a few short days I will be embarking on a small life experiment. I want to see if being free of the career that has preoccupied far too many of my waking (and sleeping) thoughts for the last 20 years will enable me to realize my dream. At the moment this “dream” is no more than a few fledgling thoughts, vague ideas germinating and evolving over time, a vision of how I would like my life to be. What I really want to do. How I want to live. What I think would make me feel more fulfilled.

As I sit at my desk today, the future seems full of possibilities. Full of hope and wonder.

Fortunately, I am also hugely optimistic by nature….