what I learned in whistler, pt 1 (work)

A few weeks ago I attended the 2023 Whistler Writers Fest. It was a purposeful attempt to get away from my day-to-day life and inspire my writing ambitions while attending events alongside authors, publishers and other writer/reader people like me. Through the sweet irony of life, it also immediately followed my last day of working at Vancouver Economic Commission, so provided an unplanned pause between one reality and another; from full time work centered in Vancouver to the unknown of “what am I doing with the rest of my life?” on Vancouver Island.

Like many of you, I have worked my whole life: from early years babysitting so that I could put down money (on layaway… remember that?) toward a sweater I liked; through to bussing tables at one of the only “fancy” restaurants in our town so that I could have gas money as a teenage driver; through to summer jobs banking weeks to qualify for my student loan equalization payment (free money!) from the government; through to jobs that began to utilize my education and define me as a person. I didn’t take that gap year, or go tree planting only to earn enough money for a boozy three month spin around Europe. I missed out on most of those freewheeling young adult escapades because I was… working.

takin’ care of business

Eventually I found myself in the creative industry helping organizations define who and what they were about, and matching that with brand design and strategy to better their communication efforts. It was a world I loved immensely as it combined artistic creation with strategic underpinning and required me to negotiate change; helping clients embrace new work while simultaneously helping our internal team accept and deliver a bearable compromise (often against seemingly insurmountable odds.) In various roles across the years, I felt my small hand contribute to the growth and shaping of Vancouver, the wider region and even the country itself through the industries, brands and projects I worked on. It was an addicting blend of impossible deadlines, competing priorities, thrill of winning clients and agony of getting the work done while delivering profit margins acceptable to New York. Given my people-pleaser personality I rarely said no to working conditions or defended boundaries of my personal life; I was all in and was a “company man” to the core. It was intense. It was exhausting. But, it was also exhilarating. Without wanting to sound pompous, I became very good at my job, gaining experience, promotions and responsibility that placed me in corporate boardrooms from Vancouver to New York, and for several decades I flourished in this fast paced world. 

i don’t know how she does it

When the pressures of juggling that high level job with my growing family finally became too much, I decided to walk away, from a role and from a team of people I loved immensely. At the time I determined that prioritizing my family was never going to be a bad decision and so I stepped off the merry-go-round and tried to reset my relationship with work, never wanting to lose myself to a job again. Making that change provided me a twinned experience, of course I was deeply rewarded to have real, unencumbered time with my family and to regain the balance and ease of our household; but I was also deeply despondent to have “given up” what I loved. I second-guessed myself endlessly about whether or not I had just needed a holiday rather than throwing in the towel completely. Withdrawing from the time and emotional obligation of that job left me reeling, unmoored and invisible. I felt as if I was going through a divorce. If I’m honest, I think I have mourned that loss of identity ever since. 

you can’t have it all … at the same time

In the subsequent years, I felt myself downshifting my career, choosing opportunities that offered a different level of stimulation for the acknowledged trade off of more control over my life. I love to learn and each new organization provided me with unique challenges, bespoke power dynamics and rules of success, but none offered the same highs of creativity or personal connection. Work became… work, and without the same degree of passion it was inevitably easier to feel separated from the disappointments and the wins.

I tried going solo, opening a consultancy that I still offer today, but despite successful growth it was hard to work independently, I missed the camaraderie of working with a team, and the discipline of somewhere to go and hang my coat everyday. In addition (as any business owner knows), you spend a great deal of time running the administrative side of things versus doing the “it” you thought you’d spend your time on, so the emotional reward is harder to find. Plus, you are endlessly prospecting for more work—a hamster wheel of pitching and writing proposals that can wear out even the most resilient rainmaker.

I tried going client-side, meaning operating a creative team inside an organization, and this was a blend of hits and misses. It was interesting to dive deep to support a singular line of work but true creativity was not the main objective therefore resourcing and budgets were difficult to protect and keeping up to modern audience expectations was often out of reach. And, although teams were passionate about what they were doing, I didn’t share the same vocational or intellectual motivations so my raft of like-minded people was very small.

all i want is to have my peace of mind

So now what? Once again I find myself at a crossroad and need to decide how best to apply my knowledge and experience toward a new opportunity. But the rules have changed for me. I am now acutely aware of the finite amount of time “working” I have left. I want to prioritize purpose and creativity—things that fill me up and inspire me. I want to acknowledge and prioritize where I live today and find a job that roots me in my community. I want to pay close attention to the people who I would spend my time with. Oh, and a city level compensation package would be great too. Haha. 

Look, I know it is asking a lot, but I do believe in the power of manifestation in the sense that if you have given of yourself freely and with good intent to this universe, then, often, the universe gives back. I have worked hard and have championed for many people’s success over the years, and hopefully that network of goodwill may channel some unique opportunities my way. In the meantime, I will be focused on writing and catching up on the occasional rom-com I missed over the years (ex. Before Sunrise with Ethan Hawke and Julie Delphy, which delivered an over-the-top, mid-90s vision of a romantic encounter in Vienna which has this 53 year-old lady contemplating the merits of a Eurail pass and a do over.) Meet me there in 6 months?