In a period of transition towards a less workful life, I’ve been reflecting on a post I wrote nine years ago. It described the careful dismantling of a factory opposite my previous home*. In it, I wondered how we might pay more attention to the way we take apart an infrastructure that’s no longer required – and safely handle the wreckage.
And so, I’m trying to be mindful in the way that I bring a quarter of a century of client work to a close and deconstruct the trappings of self-employment. In clearing the ground skilfully, I hope to establish sound foundations for whatever comes next.
I began to ‘consciously uncouple’ from client work just over two years ago. The timing was, in part, decided by the pandemic, when much of my work fell away because it involved physical touch. When restrictions eased, I found it tough to re-establish a full portfolio: whilst I loved what I did, getting work didn’t ever bring me joy (except, perhaps, at the very beginning, when it was new and therefore exciting!). I was also immersed in writing my third book – and, of course, I was getting older!
In early 2024, a decision loomed: if I was to complete the book before turning 70, it would have to come first. That summer, I stopped taking on new clients. This was a first step towards dismantling the structures that held in place my work as a coach, supervisor and leadership development practitioner. It felt quite scary because the imperative to ‘get work’ had been part of life for so long.
At the beginning of 2025, I could see that my remaining coaching clients and leadership development programmes would all come to a natural close by June of that year. It was time to give notice to my supervision clients. Supervision tends to be a long-term relationship, and so this involved the conscious step of stopping existing work. It was a giant leap, and a sad one, because I’ve always found supervision relationships to be rich and mutually rewarding.
As these decisions played out, I remained busy – I had a book to finish and publish. There were also personal adjustments to make – I was habituated to saying ‘yes’ to any opportunity to explore potential work. When a request or invitation came my way, the impulse to see what might be possible was visceral – I loved being able to support others in their learning and development. And so, to live my way into a new reality, I had to practise saying ‘no’ when I was approached. I found this quite testing – especially when former clients wanted additional sessions, which evoked a very strong desire to support them.
I found my way through these moments by aspiring to treat everyone even-handedly: with current clients in a ‘notice period’, it simply didn’t seem right to begin anything new. Instead, each thoughtful ‘no’ reinforced the potential change in the rhythm of my life.
In the meantime, publishing the book turned out to be a mammoth undertaking, and my aspiration of a less workful life remained unfulfilled – there was more ground to clear. As the book came to completion, I let my professional accreditations lapse, refashioned my website, discontinued my business phone number and, last week, didn’t renew my professional insurance. These milestones passed easily and without the fear and sadness of the earlier stages – I was simply letting go of the accessories of working life. While the initial changes had involved my sense of self, my identity, these steps didn’t.
And yet … although the ground is clearing, a less workful life remains elusive … there’s much dismantling, tidying up and shredding still to do.
I don’t yet know what will come next. I want to continue to contribute in some way – perhaps through my writing, perhaps in another form. But first comes an exploration of who I am without ever-present client commitments, and without the demands of bringing a book into being.
And so, I’m wondering … and wandering … and taking a ‘gap year’ to see what unfolds.
Contemplations
- Is there an infrastructure that has served your life and/or work, but is no longer required?
- How will you dismantle it in a way that creates the conditions for something new to flourish?
* ‘Quiet Industry’ is included in Weekly Leadership Contemplations, a book containing fifty two short reads to invite reflection
