The Story So Far...Part 4

 It was always my intention to be a writer for the entirety of my working life. That was the game plan. That’s what you did, wasn’t it, when you were released into the wild from school? Chose a career, worked at it for 40 - 50 years, retired and either embarked on non-stop cruises, learnt to play bowls or grew runner beans for the duration of your retirement until death did you part. 

And yet here I am, three quarters of the way through my working life (because the goal posts for retirement keep being moved and currently stand at age 67 and not the 60 it was when I started paying into a pension) having jumped from job to job like some indecisive moth bashing my head against a light bulb that keeps flicking on and off just to confuse matters. 

Meanwhile, Andy qualified as a vet over 25 years ago. It’s all he has done. There is no sign of him doing anything else. So, you see, it can be done. Sticking to one thing. 

I’ve worked on a farm. I’ve worked in shops. I worked in a pub - for two days - turns out working in a pub involves a tad too much greasy oil for my liking. I’ve been an optical assistant. I’ve done tarot readings over the phones. I’ve earned a little bit from writing, but sadly not enough. The biggest chunk of my working life was taken up with teaching, coinciding with a divorce and the need to earn decent money to support my children. And now I’ve come full circle and find myself working on a farm again. What’s all that about, eh? Perhaps I should have stuck with farming from the get-go. 

And all the while, other careers options have flitted in and out of my thoughts because each ‘proper’ job I’ve had has made me feel fidgety and like I was in the wrong place. With all of them, that little spark of passion that would have kept me connected and in love with my work remained elusive, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself it was there. So I tried to pursue other career options - but only in my mind. Ironically, now that I am reviewing this last 30 year trajectory of ‘The Life of Me Thus Far’ I can see these alternatives all have a common theme and if I’d seen it earlier - well, my life career might have been different. But I shall not dwell on thoughts of regret and think instead of all the skills I’ve accumulated during the jobs I HAVE done. 

Here I shall interject a photo of Flora Bijou Mybug with a look on her face which says, ‘You bloomin’ idiot. Fancy it taking you 30 years to work this out...’

My list of alternative careers include : aromatherapist, reflexologist, soul midwife, celebrant, counsellor and healer. For each one I’ve built up the enthusiasm to visualise myself in each job role. I’ve read about them, researched them, taken courses - blimey, I’ve even got as far as having business cards printed! 

But each time my self-belief that I could actually do these things and be successful at them has wavered. My confidence has crumbled, the doubts have crept in and I’ve talked myself out of my enthusiasm, telling myself I’m being ridiculous and there is no way I could be any of these things that have attached themselves to my soul and feel very much the right thing for me to be doing. Mad, eh?  Looking back, these incidents of self-destruction have coincided with times where my life path has been ambushed by unpleasant or difficult events. Enough for me to reject my plans and, in the words of that song - stop the world because I want to get off. 

Of course, I now recognise that all these events came along to test my resolve. How ready was I, really, to take on these new careers? Would my passion survive the testing times? If it didn’t, then clearly the time was not right. 

I see that now. And that is why, this time at the age of 55 and a quarter, I am back again, connected to these passions, and moving forward with them because now the time IS right...