We are fortunate in the first world to have the time and opportunity to have more than one career or vocation – and yet so few of us take it up. I had thought it was due to the almost ubiquitous fear of change I see in most people in most situations. Now that I have taken the challenge, I find that the fear is far deeper than that.
In a surprise move, my closest friend in high school left in the middle of grade 11 to join the airforce. He did his twenty years and resigned to complete an IT degree. Deciding that computers were not that interesting, he followed on with medicine. He is now a general practitioner in the city of his birth – Brisbane. I honour his decisions and his courage to see them through.
For me, I enjoyed my chosen career as a software designer for thirty years, but the fourth decade was a nightmare. When I started working, we were considered boffins. Now we are cogs in a wheel.
My subconscious sent me hints at times. After a severe car accident in 1989, I used black and white as one of my recuperation therapies. I also trained as a dive-master and dabbled in diving photography until the mid-90s. I even started a travel journalism course in 1995. Financial considerations prevailed, and I returned to information technology for the next 22 years.
The pressures of being a square peg in a round hole finally burnt me out. I had to leave the industry for my own health. It was a painful process, but I am so glad it has given me the push I needed to change my life.
But what to do? I am not one to sit and watch the grass grow. That would be particularly pointless now in Australia anyway. We have a long-running drought, and the grass hasn’t done much growing in the last year.
The glimmering of an idea came from a comment my partner, Mary-Anne, made. She suggested that since we can’t afford to travel overseas, we can at least travel by road around Australia. My initial feelings were not favourable. The thought of going for travelling’s sake did not appeal. However, when we holidayed in the past, I would send photographs each night to amuse the family. I then reminisced on my travel journalism attempt in 1995 – and from there to travel blogging in 2019.
At first, all was sweetness and light. I started with a training course and building a website while planning the more down-to-earth requirements. I admit to some apprehension about driving alone to Cape York and back. Ok, a bit more than anxiety. It is an adventure, so what can I expect in myself? It is certainly no more than anyone would feel when moving from one career or vocation to another.
No, I reserve the real fear for the complete unknown. Can I write in a way that others appreciate? What will I write about? How can I make it enjoyable? Will anyone care enough to read my ramblings?
Until recently, this was just a concern – to be resolved like all others. To that end, I arranged with Mike Sowden to take his writing course on Fevered Mutterings. The article you are reading now is in response to the assignment in the third week of the course. Apprehension was utterly swamped. How do I do this shit?
I at last fully appreciate the old saw about a writer sitting and looking at a blank piece of paper for hours. All my previous attempts at procrastination pale into insignificance when compared to the urge while attempting to write something.
The assignment was to communication emotion, honesty and/or struggle. I have unintentionally included all three. And yet, is it readable to anyone else? How can I tell? Ah well, I guess I can give it another go next year (today being the 16th of December).