Finding my feet. In the sand.

Parental advisory, all of you reading this should be of that age where your hair is either starting to turn grey or fall out. If you're not, parental advisory is a load of bollocks. People often curse in the real world. It doesn't make you the devil. It’s a sign of intelligence. So tell your Dad you're clever as fuck and to let you read what you want. Enjoy.

I’m 4 weeks in, fish out of water, polar bear in Dubai, Jonny the freelance writer in Bali. They are all the same. Unknowns, not quite sure what’s going on but each one is thinking ‘This is different, this is fun, let’s see what happens’.

It has been a lot of fun, a real sense of self-discovery and figuring it all out every single day. And then figuring it all out again the next day. I recently started reading ‘Shoe Dog’ by Phil Knight, co-founder of that little brand we know, Nike. It took him a year to even figure out what the name of the company would be called, so reading that was a pleasant realisation and reminder that because I don't have a five-figure monthly income YET, I’m not a complete failure. 

Coming off the back of a Radiography career that spanned 7 years, I’ve always considered myself tech-savvy from the machinery and software I’ve used. But it turns out I’m not too far dissimilar from my Dad; who if you owe him 50 quid, he’ll ask for a cheque and he’ll drive down to the bank, park outside, queue up and pay it in. Doesnt know banking apps exist but knows eBay like the back of his hand. Anyway, back to my tech-savviness; I now use Google Workspace, and I have a diary that I organise myself. It’s very colourful and pleasant to look at, unlike the on-call rotas that need a PHD in hieroglyphics to understand. 

Amongst many discoveries and understandings, organising my own work-life is something I’m still getting to grips with, I no longer have to physically get myself into a workplace, instead I can just wake up and open the laptop to ‘start work’. Not the easiest self-discipline to learn when you are far from being a morning person.

So yes I can accept your Google Meeting invite, I can press the button and I’m waiting for everyone to join. It seems everyone needs to improve on their punctuality. Oh, no, that’s because you need to join the meeting, from the pre-lobby. The meeting started without me, so I need to improve my punctuality.

At the young (ish) age of 34 I’m starting a career all over again, for the second time and if I’m being honest it's fucking scary. Scarier than it was the first time. But I’ve come to realise that I’ll hopefully live until the ripe old age of 110 so I’m not even halfway yet. Why can I not have a crack at something else in the wonderful long life we are so blessed to have? I’ve never been shy of a ‘good days graft’, a phrase my beloved late Grandfather Alan taught me. I had a paper round at 14 to pay for my tickets to the football and apart from two stints at University, I’ve worked full-time since I was legally allowed. So this change of career is not a pursuit of doing less, it’s the pursuit of doing more. Doing more things that make my heart smile and doing them when I want to. I’m not bound by poor work-life balance and I can work late into the night as and when I want to, so that the next day I can finish earlier and go lie on the beach. It’s a realisation that I am very blessed my wife inspired me to jump into.

I now live on an Island that's not too far away from Australia. I pretty much live on the other side of the world and considering I spent most of my adult life thinking I’d never leave the walls of Sunderland, it’s a pleasant realisation that I feel at home here. Home is where the heart is ringing so true. I recently went on holiday to Lombok and Gili T and the journey home was not grey and daunting; knowing this was where I was coming home to was a total moment of gratitude. We are very fortunate that our careers have been able to accommodate us moving around the globe but also props to us for having the bollocks to move across the world and just ‘see what happens’. My wife has taught me to live by one of her many wise mindsets; make sure the next move is the right one and the one that makes the most sense. Then we figure it out from there.

Is that not what life is? Keep on figuring it out until the end. It took me 11 visits to our new supermarket to realise buying fruit with no barcodes on causes issues for the cashier if you don’t weigh it and stick a barcode on it. Makes perfect sense but I genuinely had no idea.

Money makes the world go around is what they say (not an ad). So of course I’m chasing a dream, a dream of freedom and more happiness but I’m also chasing money that needs to go into my bank. Not via a cheque. The bills that need paying at the end of the month can’t be told to wait whilst I figure this all out and find my soul in Bali. Hold off on that bill while I meditate, have a sound bath, finish my healing journey and then I’ll let you know when I can pay it. I would love it to work that way but it doesn’t. A scary bump I’m sure every new freelancer has to deal with. I have to show up every day and eventually, that million-pound writing deal from Shoe Dog will arrive in my inbox and I’ll not have to organise my diary anymore.

I write this whilst sitting in a coffee shop called ‘The Living Room’, it’s literally like someone's living room. The coffee slaps, the eggs slap and I’ve got my flip-flops off. Barefoot living with the Balinese sun shining through the window, I’m listening to Fred Again and I’m drinking a smoothie that has kale and spinach in. Jonathan 10 years ago would have thought ‘who the fuck is this guy’ but I’m here living what feels like a dream, smiling one minute then wanting to cry the next because I need to learn how to use another app I’ve never heard of. I thought I was Elon Musk, I’m not, I’m closer to my Dad.