In the autumn of 2019, I was ‘reckoning’ with myself as I approached the threshold of my 60th birthday. It seemed to be a significant time, calling for new rhythms in the later stages of a working life. This led me to reappraise my identity and work, using the autumn season and the metaphor of fruiting trees as inspiration. I wanted to focus on what would nourish me as well as others, writing:
‘trees produce fruit to store sugar for food in the winter months. In addition, they drop their leaves to conserve energy… nature is abundant: a tree generates more fruit than it needs, providing food for others.’
That winter, I sketched out a transition towards working less and writing more. Then, of course, the world changed profoundly. All plans were rudely interrupted by the pandemic. Much of my work stopped, because it involved touch. In 2022, with gratitude for the way Leadership Embodiment (LE) practices had resourced me during the restrictions, I returned to teaching the LE syllabus. It’s been immensely rewarding to share this work since then – nourishing for participants and for me.
And now I’m approaching my 65th birthday, which feels like another threshold. In the intervening years I’ve come to accept how little agency we have and have reduced my reliance on a lifelong tendency to plan – and then plan some more. I’ve learned to hold everything a little more lightly. In a new phase of reckoning with myself, what influence will this have?
The questions I posed in 2019 still seem relevant:
- who am I?
- what am I transitioning towards?
- how do I embrace this life-stage with grace and integrity?
Starting with life-stage, I’ve noticed that I have less energy and stamina. The stamina aspect is easy to describe: I tire more quickly and it no longer feels wise (for me or for clients) to do 2-day workshops. Having less energy is more subtle – it is, perhaps, that I have more energy for some things than for others. I have energy for writing, for Buddhist study and practice, and for one-to-one work and occasional workshops. I may even have energy for exploring new horizons, work-wise – although this is probably a seductive idea rather than a plausible reality! However, I have less appetite for the sustained energy and organising that longer programmes require.
In addition, I want to walk more, whilst health and fitness allow, and to add to the little wild camping that I’ve done. And, although it’s sometimes a chore, I’d like to invest more time in my beautiful woodland garden.
I want to use my energy well.
This means transitioning towards writing more and fully inhabiting my wonderful location in the Cairngorms National Park. The first of these is already happening – my focus in the coming months is completing and publishing my third book – and the second will take precedence as next summer unfolds. Everything else is… unresolved in my heart.
In the meantime, the autumn paradox of exuberant fruiting and the drawing in of energy fills my garden: apples and berries adorn the trees, and gold, copper and russet leaves litter the ground. This juxtaposition is alive in my life with the anticipation and promise of the new book and a sense of beginning to shed the trappings of a working identity. At some stage, I’ll let go of elements of this identity – such as accreditations – and dismantle the structures of my business. When the time is ripe, I hope to relinquish my one-to-one clients with grace and integrity.
First though, comes the prospect of saying ‘no’ to new clients. This is a big challenge – a new inquiry draws me into what might be possible and I want to engage and explore. Saying ‘I’m no longer taking on new clients’ will be a step change in who I am. In my sense of identity, being a coach, supervisor and leadership development practitioner loom large. Who will I be when I can no longer claim these words?
To draw on Rilke’s wisdom about everything that’s unresolved in our hearts, this is a question to love until I live my way into an answer.
Contemplations
- What question is unresolved in your heart? What question might you love?
- How might you live your way into an answer?
