I can’t be absolutely sure but I think last Sunday more or less marked 30 years since I arrived in London. I was only going to stay for three. Blimey. London: come for the university, stay for the … well, everything. By the time my book-learnin’ was done, I simply couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. (This isn’t going to be an advertorial for London btw - I remember loads of my peers packed off home the minute they finished their last exam. It’s not for everyone.)
So, naturally, I had a think about what I’d achieved in those three decades. Had life worked out the way I’d hoped?
I wish I could say that I congratulated myself on all the things I’d done but I have to confess my mind immediately went to all the disappointments, failures and things I never did. Hello, inner critic! And even when I tried to course-correct and remind myself of the big milestones, I kept diminishing them.
I became a journalist and landed a job at a prestigious news organisation …. but I gave it up. I own my own home. … no, I don’t, the bank does. I’m writing a book … but I was always writing a book - since I was 7 years old, I’ve been “writing a book”. Back then, it was an exercise book that I tried to fill up with a story. There were a lot of rabbit illustrations because my friend had taught me how to draw rabbits, but I don’t remember there being any rabbits in the story. If memory serves, it was about the souring of the marriage between Cinderella and Prince Charming. Dark, huh? And an early indicator of my faith in fairy tales (ie, zero - cross-ref: my treatise on Private Benjamin).
However, despite this cynicism, I think I probably never stopped hoping for some sort of fairy tale moment in my life - where everything would be all sorted out. Who among us can say that we aren’t? I often characterise my departure for London aged 18 as having run screaming up the M4 after spending my teenage years in Wales, where I had what’s best described as a “not very nice time”. So, the move to London came with all the added expectation of a ugly duckling moment. Or a perfectly lovely signet moment, if you prefer.
But nothing is ever “all sorted out”, is it? In any aspect of our lives - but least of all our professional lives. And, for better or worse, I still tend to value my professional achievements the most highly. So I’m on a bit of a hiding to nothing - it’s literally impossible for me to live ‘happily ever after’. But let’s get a grip, shall we? No one lives ‘happily ever after’. If we’re lucky, we get to live relatively happily some of the time. And the rest of the time… well, we do alright. And that’s a pretty good outcome. You can’t be blissfully happy or successful all of the time - the world keeps turning. Plus, if we’ve learned anything from soap operas, it’s that the minute you get everything you want, that’s when disaster strikes - usually in the form of a speeding car on Christmas Eve. Sometimes it's a tram. Or sometimes a murderer is escapes from jail and takes you hostage. Or your wife pushes you off a cliff (poor Barry). No one wants that, do they? Best just to stay moderately content.
It’s a shame that we don’t have annual appraisals on our real lives, not just our work lives (I know, but stick with me for a moment). I’ve said before that appraisals - hellish as they are - have value later when you’re trying to recall what you’ve actually been doing with your time for the benefit of a CV or job application. All those tiny goals met and new skills acquired - not by going on a training course and getting a certificate but by learning on the job because you had to. Our real-life appraisals would make hilarious reading, I suspect: full of narrowly averted disasters and blagging - because we’re all just making it up as we go.
The standard questions on an appraisal form are:
What went well last year?
What could have gone better?
What would you like to achieve next year?
Is there any training you would like to receive? NB: there is no training budget (it doesn’t say that last bit on the form, but it should)
I seriously recommend you sit down for five minutes and try to answer those questions about the past WEEK. You’ll be amazed. I did it and found that I’d actually had a pretty decent seven days. And the ‘what could have gone better?’ answers were indeed quite funny. After that I started looking further back over the summer and the rest of 2022, than further and further back. The bigger, more life-changing events came into sharper relief.
Before I knew it, I had quite the list of adventures dating all the way back to my escape to London. The things I’ve done, the places I’ve been, the friends I’ve made, the things I’ve survived. Some of those were indeed work-related, others were not. They were all extraordinary experiences. And, what’s more, I’m still adventuring. Still optimistically diving into the unknown, as readers of this newsletter should know by now.
So let’s have another look at the question of what I’ve done in 30 years. I would say: I’ve done alright for myself.
Friday dance music break
No dancing this week, just this lovely track to sway along to. For adventurers everywhere.
PS: Tooth update
(Yes, this one definitely went under ‘things that could have gone better’)
Some of you were asking. Root canal. Next week. I only wish to hear stories about how you had it and it was completely painless, thank you.