If I could free myself from all the obligations in my life and start again, what would I do? Well, now…
BY ELLIE HOLMES
Identity is a funny thing. We shape our lives, sometimes even our personalities, around what we do or the people who surround us. We become a different version of ourselves as we are mirrored in their eyes.
And yet, somewhere underneath, the person we once were still exists – the person we were always meant to be before life’s crosswinds blew us off course. She’s still waiting there to be rediscovered.
That’s how I felt as I waited for my new friends to arrive.
The local hall was looking smart, welcoming and warm. The treats for the mid-evening break looked appetising, the lyric sheets were printed and ready to roll.
My pianist, Robert, was warming up by playing scales and then a jaunty little tune I didn’t recognise, but which was perfect for the occasion.
It was a good time to wipe the slate clean and start new ventures.
I had spent twenty-eight years with the same company prior to handing in my notice at the end of the previous year. I can’t imagine young people starting out now putting that sort of time in at one place.
Last summer, one of my work colleagues tried to explain “quiet quitting” to me.
“It’s doing what’s expected of you, but no more,” she’d said.
It sounded like the old “work to rule” the unions spoke about in my youth.
“So, why don’t you just quit if you’re unhappy?”
She’d looked at me aghast.
“I’m not unhappy. This job is perfect for me right now. It means I have a good work/life balance.”
Her words got me thinking. Work/life balance. An interesting concept.
I read that Australians work for seven hours a day, have seven hours relaxation and seven hours sleeping, with three hours for the mundanity of life.
I tried it once. The mundanity of my life flatly refused to be contained within three hours and, depressed, I gave up.
I married young and started a family the following year.
I’d never really had the luxury of me-time – another modern construct, but an important one. If I had had more me time over the years, I might not have lost sight of who I really was.
But now I could sense she was back, emerging like a butterfly from a chrysalis. This was my chance to be who I was always supposed to be all along.
When I was young we didn’t have gap years. We just got on with it. I raised three kids, now all worki
