Last week I wrote about the art of taking a break – time off from our endeavours to keep things fresh, to see the world through different lenses. So here I am letting you know that this is it – I’m bowing out. I may be back in the autumn with something similar, or something different, or nothing at all if the creative sparks don’t fly. I just don’t know. That’s the thing with endings – we’re not quite ready for a new beginning. It’s a liminal space between the past and the future. Hanging in mid-air like Wile E. Coyote in Looney Tunes.
Having totted up my Spoon by Spoon blog, end to end it’s over 70,000 words. That’s a book’s worth of thoughts. Why am I not writing a book? Whilst I ponder that question, here are some posts I’ve taken out for an airing:
- Want career advice in just two minutes? Then this is for you.
- Or something on change and uncertainty and how to get through it?
- Are you running to or running away? Being clear makes all the difference.
- Why be normal when you could be happy?
- Don’t cook a feast when all you want is a sandwich. How much change do you need?
- Who are you and what is your story?
- Beware of too much choice – it’s not your friend.
- Run your own race – comparisons are for meerkats.
- Or for the other 64 blogs just click here.
So, we are at the end of the evening. Better to leave the party before we outstay our welcome. Speaking of parties, in the early 90s I was at college studying psychology. On a Friday my friends and I would head to the student’s union to sing, dance and be merry. At the end of the night the DJ would play Frank Sinatra’s My Way to signal that they were about to close; a segue between night and day, between revelry and study. As the lights went up my friends and I would link arms and high kick our way out of the hall and down the steps to bed.
Thirty years on and I’m Pavlov’s Dog. Watch out if My Way is playing – I’ll grab your arm so we can-can our way out of this blog:
“And now the end is near, So I face the final curtain
My friend, I’ll say it clear, I’ll state my case of which I’m certain
I’ve lived a life that’s full, I’ve traveled each and every highway
And more, much more than this, I did it my way.”
But is high kicking the right way to finish? I might pull a tendon – I am 51 after all. Perhaps Vera is a better fit:
“We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when,
But I know we’ll meet again,
Some sunny day.”
This is part of a series called Spoon by Spoon — a project I’ve run interviewing 100 people going through career, relationship and wider life changes. If you’re looking for support with your own career or life change find out more here.