June 2017 – A LIFE WITH PURPOSE

I’ve yearned to write a new post the past few days. The struggle is getting real, the hurdles aplenty and the pain bodies continue to call out my ego despite my efforts to muffle them. But it is not in my being to write another post about the strain. I will not feed it or humour it, I will not give in to the easy route. On the occasions that my mind is still, I am reminded that the overwhelming driver of the past three months has been a place of peace.

There has been a new baseline of living. Completely separate from the physical realms of things like financial wellbeing, my overall presence has been, well; better. I am conscious not to use the word ‘happier’ because I don’t think it’s accurate. Happiness is a state that I aspire to as much as the next person but it is just that; a conscious awareness of such. This place I have been spending more time in is different because it occurs mostly unbeknownst.

In this place of unconsciousness, of being, I have been free. Free to breathe deeper breaths. To sleep in a few more minutes after a restless night. To read pages of a random book. To take in the colours and smells and sounds of my neighbourhood. To take longer showers. To sometimes, not shower at all. To eat less. To feel the sunshine on my body more. To undertake an intense period of learning. To make mistakes and have the space to understand how not to make them again. To cook a meal. To do laundry and vacuum and dust – and enjoy it!

Literally a picture of me studying in the sun last week.

Surprisingly, and perhaps to the concern of my therapist, I have thoroughly enjoyed the absence of routine. It’s a double edge sword because I know routine keeps me at my ‘most polished’. But, for the most part, I have really loved – not being polished. There will come a time when the pendulum must find an equilibrium but until then – it’s a natural-faced, messy bun, Birkenstocks; kind of life. Which is quite freeing in itself. There is a good reason why Obama and that-Facebook-guy wear the same thing every day. It’s so their decision-making muscle is reserved for more important things throughout their waking hours. How great is this. What an effortless way to contribute to stemming fast-fashion. Minimalism at its’ best.

So you know, after my loose morning routine, I start proceedings by working on the things that I feel most closely to that day. Deadlines influence, as does weather, and funds – but besides that, the day’s to-do-list is what I make of it. My life has slowed, dramatically. There is no rushing or missing out or clashes. I was even early for a meetup with friends the other day; I had to call my husband to share the moment. I now look at events on weekday evenings, and consider them instead of instant dismissal. It has opened up this whole other world of activity. None of which is obligatory. So I attend some and not others. It is no big issue. But it is fulfilling. Like I am seeing more of my city and its possibilities. Feeding more time into my interests. Even the insignificant ones. Like visual feasting on Pinterest. Or wasting time but not mind on suduko and arrowwords.

I am grateful for the people in my life. They provide support and understanding, friendship, growth, and fun. There are those whom without their presence; the journey of life, would not be so enjoyable. There is an ease that is unexplainable. It provides an unconscious inner comfort that could never be brought or inorganically manifested. And for reasons I am yet to understand, our communication stays active despite my conscious fear of answering the friendship phone (yep, sprung). They fill in the gaps that I create and our time together is none the wiser when we are in each other’s presence. They make life worth living and I couldn’t recommend a better bunch of people to any soul in search for a soothing song.

Who could not love this mad bunch?!

Which brings me to the Unicorn. I find this one the most difficult to describe because our time together has provided a somewhat rebirth for me. Combined with the long and hard hours I spent bettering myself prior, it was by the grace of the universe, that this human and I were brought together after many years of distant acquaintance. This was to both of our surprise. And once seen, it could not be unseen. So, it was with dreamy hearts that we began our journey together. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that, for the most part, we have spent the last six and a half years together being very stupidly, madly and happily in love. Do we have a secret? Is there such a thing? I think it helps to marry someone open-minded who loves you more than you love them – both ways. Together your selflessness will continue to burn bright no matter how big the hurdles that make tracks in front of you.

But it is not without reason that I have left the big picture till last. Sometimes I forget it’s significance and importance but mainly, it’s presence never leaves my side. It is my purpose. My ikigai. My reason for being. I am grateful that this current time in my life is an uncomfortable push. A shove. A hard boot up the ass. To find a closer pathway that is my calling. It is in the discomfort of the past few months that I have had to dig deeper and continue to unearth the new road on this lifelong journey. It has twisted and contorted. Sometimes feeling ugly and uncomfortable, it has risen again shedding the heaviness and beholding bigger and better places of beauty. It is through this process that I have come to lose a few balls, a few marbles and a few unstable paths. But all for reason.

So as I continue to search for that role that fits like a glove, I push on with my side projects and passions which may inevitably be that match. I am not in control of very much these days but I do have assets. And seeing as I cannot seem to get rid of them (despite my best efforts in some cases), it is time to take my lemons and make the best damn limoncello that this town has ever seen. I am literally in the process of selling all the old shitty furniture in my apartment and swinging in some jazzy new stuff (thanks interest-free). I am turning this unused, light filled, open-aired hunk of a space into my next chapter. Insert ‘Ontwerp Huis’.

Meaning ‘design house’ in Dutch, this space in inner city Melbourne, will become the new permanent home to eight designers or ‘ontwerpers’ as they will be known. I really do love working from home but feck me, it can get lonely, boring, isolating, distracting and on some days – a little bit loco! What I truly miss about the corporate world is a team to bounce ideas off, to share the lows and celebrate the highs with. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve already brought the Friday-night-drinks trolley – it’s the tits. This permanent workspace won’t be like any others you’ve heard of or been too. For it would be remiss of me to open a workspace that reverted to the old rules of the game. Practice what you preach, right?

Ok, so maybe not this fancy – but close!

A governing set of ‘Huis Principes’ will guide the family. Productivity is king and the pomodoro technique will be a daily fixture. The office will be paper-free for the most part, coffee will be offsite, and the biggest advancement is that we will only be open 4 days a week. Because progress. For you; the individual, the business owner, the entrepreneur, the ontwerper. And for society; your families, your friendships, and your community. It is a forced day out of the office and into your clients world, your places of inspiration, your home without weekenders or your ‘third space’ – a café or library or local place that completes your (scientifically proven) productive triangle.

Holy crap, that feels good to share. Like the rest of my life, the website is ‘under construction’ but I will share the love as soon as it’s complete. In the meantime, if you know any absolute-fucking-legends (no more, no less) who own their own business, are designers, or entrepreneurs, or just need to work outside of their corporate office a bit more (but still get shit done) – then please send me a message, text me, or call me (I’ll pick up, promise). I’m looking for an all-star cast; no egos, no bullshit, such a bunch of rippers looking to shred through their own next chapters in epic form. Introverts, extroverts, feelers, thinkers, black, white, LGBTQFD, whatever the fuck you are – if you are someone who works hard, respects the people and places that surround you, and doesn’t mind a cheeky Friday night vino – then, this one’s for you kid!

Yours in eternal gratitude,
Zig B x

I’m having an off day. A real doozy. One of those ones that I should really keep to myself. But if you want vulnerability; give vulnerability – right? I’m going to say that it began last night but realistically it’s probably been brewing for a while. Heck, it’s probably being brewing my whole life if you ask any good expert. Anyway, let’s move on to introductions. I was hoping that you guys wouldn’t meet but he’s resurfaced again and the timing is really bloody inconvenient. I’m hoping that by getting it out in the open, he might – well, fuck off. I have an important and unfinished Masters assignment that is currently sitting open and staring blankly at me. It understands the notion of timing and has advised that there is exactly 55 hours left until it gets handed in regardless of my doozy or old friend…so here goes.

Meet Chip. He’s a real asshole. He hasn’t been around for a while but at some points in my life, he was around for too long. He likes to sit on my shoulder and weigh me down heavily. He points out how hard done by I am, how hard life is and how unlucky I’ve been. He used to visit often but I figured him out a while back and told him to hit the road. He did. But occasionally he comes back to visit. Sometimes I don’t mind his company in small doses. He props himself up on my shoulder and begins whispering his views about the world. Always without solution. What a drainer. Nonetheless I let him go if he doesn’t pipe up too much. You know; acknowledge, move on, don’t cause too much of a scene. He’s not that bad really but every time he pays me a visit in recent years, he puts out an open invite to his other annoying mates. Many of whom, I am not cool with.

He has this one friend we’ve spoken about before – Imposter, who I just can’t seem to shake. As Chips visits die down, Imposter’s seem to be on the rise. How is this possible? If you’re leaving – take your friend’s with you. Yes, friend’s – plural. Let’s just say, no trio would be complete without a polar opposite to balance out the torment. This friend is like a Tornado; overtly confident, recklessly passionate and full of beans. He/she enters the room with full force and no matter how much I duck or weave; it is inevitable that we will collide. During this time I am overcome by false greatness. I don’t aim for the moon and reach the stars; I aim for the Milky Way and end up in another parallel fucking universe. Here, my disillusionment is completely normal, reinforcing a wake of unbelievable beliefs.

What the fuck am I saying.

Ok. So you know that I am in a ‘transition period’ currently. What a gross combination of words. I’m having a ‘life pivot’, a ‘nervous breakthrough’, a ‘period of not achieving on a societal score board’. I am proudly full steam ahead with the bigger picture goals; storytelling, boutique accommodation plans (another day), completing of a post-graduate degree, perhaps even opening a new coworking space…but. Inevitably, the short-term has caught up with me and the freight train that is financial responsibilities is steaming ahead with no signs of slowing. Perhaps I’m exaggerating, apologies. But you know, Chip is in town, and he has this effect. So anyway, the artistic freedom and joy that I am currently moving through must be balanced with actual paying work, stat. But I am obsessing and stalling and over thinking and fretting like a mutha fucker. Some days I spent hours and hours fixating on job sites. No industry categories, just a few geographical and time sensitive filters. So I am scouring like five or six sites daily, scrolling through hundreds of options. I know what you’re thinking – fucking refine!! But I don’t want to. I don’t want to be limited to one industry or one job type. I want to be open to a completely new chapter. One that I am passionate about. I don’t want to waste any more of my life being underemployed. It served its purpose but my heart cannot take it anymore. I’m not being picky. I’m being purposeful. So far, it’s been disastrous. Just to be clear, I am very aware of the three types of roles that are open to us all. I could get…

A job – it might be on the pathway to a career or vocation but generally, you are paid for your time rather than your skills. Oh my gosh. That hurts to write. I know this one too well. I even managed to climb the ‘job ranks’ and get paid reasonably well which kept the self-perpetuating cycle of staying in the ‘job’ drawn out even longer.

A career – requires much more time commitment either through qualifications or on the job training. The longer you spend specialising in a specific area; the more likely you are to have greater responsibilities and pay. I think this is where I have fucked up majorly. Yet it could never have been any other way. I spent so much time doing job’s that I didn’t love – that I ended up making a career out of an occupation that I have zero fucking interest in. Ouch.

A vocation – working ‘mecca’ if you will. A position that brings immense satisfaction. A calling, a lifelong partnership, fulfilment, purpose, meaning. They say that a lot of the time, these ‘vocations’ are selfless works. People helping people, people helping animals, people helping the environment. You may be familiar with one of these if it applies to you. A vocation has also been described as the innate ability in an individual towards a particular occupation. I like that definition.

So this makes it easy then; stop being so fussy and find a job that pays the bills asap? Bzzzzz wrong. I just can’t. I have this blockage. I literally cannot apply for something that I don’t believe in, not even at a ‘job’ level. I have to have some sort of appetite for the product or the brand or the role. But that can be something as simple as pouring delicious, craft beers – in this regards, I really am-not fussy. I don’t mind getting my hands dirty, picking or packing, pouring or storing. I’m not looking for a ‘sexy’ job (though there could be some cash in that field hehe). I am open to stumbling across a job, career, or vocation. But as I want to keep my entrepreneurial snowballs rolling, I consciously made the decision not to look for or apply to any ‘jobs’ or ‘careers’ that weren’t part-time. Like we’ve discussed; a part time role will offer structure and financial benefits but without wholly consuming my entire life and energy sources.

But I do have exceptions. Of course, life is uncertain so a healthy level of flexibility is a must. If a ‘vocation’ role was to come up; of course, I would throw my invisible rule book out the window. So let’s just say that a week ago, one did. It snuck into my part-time filter and blew me away with the best role description I’ve ever seen. It was perfect. An aspirational role that I felt fully and wholly capable of blowing out of the park. I wanted to be the best goddamn *insert role title* that the industry had ever seen. And I would have been. I would have set new benchmarks, led with great esteem, and helped grow this unbelievable social SME into a global powerhouse.

Except for one problem. I didn’t even get to interview stage. Huh? Well on paper, it looks like I have zero fucking experience in this field. And doggone, I think they’re right. I don’t. So why the fuck did I apply? Because I have the soft skills to slay this role. I have a robust emotional vocabulary. I have an insatiable curiosity about people. Why do you think I am doing a Master of Marketing? Not because I believe I can be the best advertiser or researcher or communicator the world has ever seen. But because I am fascinated with human behaviour and decision-making and the power of brands to influence. I am doing an intensive post grad degree so that I have options to continue my studies further down the track in my passion areas of psychology, sociology, anthropology and philosophy.

I know my strengths and weaknesses. And I am crystal clear on the trough that is – my resume. I understand that I have a wealth of experience across a spectrum of impressive areas, few of which match up to my current passions or future aspirations. I am vulnerable (see above text). I think I am a good judge of character and continually improving as the years go on. I see people blindly regardless of their physicality’s or specs on paper. I see their motivations and desires. Their behaviours when everyone is watching and especially when everyone is not. I take a complete 360 view of each individual before I begin to draw a picture of them. I love pushing them to greatness; ironing out creases, jumping hurdles alongside them, offering a hand up to the podium, and clapping loudly when they are rewarded for effort.

I get results. But I haven’t been measuring. It’s inauthentic to me. But it comes at a cost. I am now unable to leverage these occurrences for my own future growth. If one where to look over my job titles, they would rightfully not see the coaching, the hard conversations, the strategic influence, the deep relationships, the radical inclusion or the benefit I have brought to the teams I have worked in. Get them to be my references? It’s not that easy. For deep, authentic work often goes on behind the scenes, inside and outside of workplaces. It is a powerful yet subtle occurrence. It is unseen though heavily impactful. It is fulfilling for both the giver and the receiver.

So what now? I applied for a job that I have the skills to do but not the qualifications or experience for and I didn’t even get close. I’m not going to lie, it stings. But I get why. But it still stings. Ok. So I needed to get this all out so that I can get my head back in the game. I need Chip, the Imposter, and that overly confident (or delusional) Tornado to fuck off so I can regroup with what I’ve got and move forward. Because that is the biggest risk. Not in applying for jobs, careers or vocations that are beyond my paper limits, but in getting caught up in the expected and unexpected results when things don’t go my way. Pick yourself up, dust yourself and move fucking forward. Chip is heavy when I’m still but he can barely hold on when I’m moving forward. Weeeeeeeeeeee.

I’m trying to be patient. There is a universal plan with my name on it and with some level of hope, these setbacks are all a part of it. That dream role would have taking me away from my storytelling and maybe my storytelling is going to be a bigger part of the picture than I realise? Goddamn it storytelling, why can’t you be more provocative?! Dance for the people, make them realise how important you are to the world even though you aren’t all colourful and flashy. Your slow gratification is fulfilling but they’re looking for a quick fix. And help pay some of my bills while you’re at it. I’m giving you my time and abilities, will there come a day when you give me more than mental and artistic progression? Why isn’t there more ‘writers in residence’? Is that even a thing? How unsexy. Imagine that; boutique hotel has scribbles of paper all over the walls, writer sits in a glass room scrawling pointless ramblings down at a rate of knots whilst people watch on and try to disseminate the quiet, incoherent mumblings.

Lordy. 2000 words and I’m still not sure I can get back to my assignment. It’s going to be a long few days. Maybe I need to take this website off my resume?? Eep!!

Zig x

A LIFE WITH PURPOSE

Month: June 2017

CHAPTER 77: A REAL DOOZY (EXPLETIVES NOT DELETED)