As the 12th month of the year comes to a close, it has been 12 weeks since I started this newsletter. It is, admittedly, early days but sending out these missives for the past 12 weeks has been equal parts agonizing and exhilarating. I can only imagine things getting progressively worse from here on in.
I am not usually given to sentimentality but it is that time of the year when society seems determined to make you introspect. Spotify adjudges your ‘audio aura’ based on your playlist (my audio aura was soothing and angst which, to be honest, seems oddly on point); Google Photos rustles up an album with a bunch of pictures you don’t remember clicking, and digital conversations are all about the highlights reel of the past year. You cannot help but reminisce about how the past may shape your future. Obviously, the pandemic dominated our collective memories of this year - memories that were, are, harrowing for far too many people. And just when the world hoped that we’d seen the worst of it, we now find ourselves in the middle of yet another wave, as yet another variant of the coronavirus terrorizes the world. C’est la vie.
Personally speaking, 2021 turned out to be quite a momentous year for me. I participated in 3 trail runs and failed spectacularly in 2 of them: got lost in one and nearly passed out on a mountain-top in the other. I contracted covid though fortunately, it did not require anything more than home treatment and isolation. Oh, and I decided to step away from a full-time law firm job that had defined my life for over 11 years, to pursue opportunities outside of legal practice, without having any semblance of a plan of how I would continue earning a living. So, yes, fun times, all in all.
When I had quit, a few people had told me that I would enjoy the tranquillity for a few days, but that I would soon miss the energy and adrenaline of law firm life. These people were, of course, utterly unfamiliar with my complete lack of professional ambition and deep-rooted indolence. Know thyself, said the Greek philosophers, and I have always followed this sage advice. Ever since I graduated from law school and started working, I have known that the life of vocation is not for me. Perhaps it was this conviction that once I disengaged from gainful employment I would embrace a life of idle contemplation, which forestalled me from quitting at an earlier stage in my career. We live in a world where one’s professional worth is measured in terms of their designation or work-title. Throughout one’s career, success is defined by shifting goalposts: the next promotion, the next compensation revision, and so on; and we are conditioned to ceaselessly climb the corporate ladder, rung after rung after rung. In this often hyper-competitive environment, pausing at any rung to take a breath means falling behind your peers. Jumping off the ladder is professional suicide. I quite enjoyed doing it.
The first thing that hit me was the abundance of time. There were suddenly so many hours available to read, watch movies, go for walks, or simply stare out the window. Pursuits that had to be crammed into the constricted space of a weekend could now unfurl themselves, languidly stretched over other days of the week. I had the feeling of really owning my time and deciding what to do with it. The second notable development was how the stress simply melted away. My phone ringing did not trigger anxiety. I did not need to check my inbox the moment I woke up in the morning. There were no to-do lists and work-related thoughts running relentlessly in the back of my mind. I had spent 11 years in a reality where a work emergency could crop up any second. Being available at all times was part of the job description. Now, I could leave my phone at home and go for a run in the middle of the day. I could go away for an entire weekend and not carry my laptop. It felt incredible to not be needed. Maybe the novelty of this feeling eventually wears off. I suppose I will find out.
At this point, I feel the need to categorically and unequivocally clarify, that this is not a carpe diem rallying cry. I was fortunate to find myself in a position where I could switch careers, but not everybody has that option. And who knows what the future holds. In a year’s time, I may find myself working a full-time job again, squinting at the laptop screen through the tears in my eyes and choking down sobs.
For now, learning how to juggle different writing projects and freelance, part-time work commitments has been a surreal but enormously gratifying experience. I had always believed that nobody could possibly enjoy work, but (trite as it sounds) I am beginning to see how being passionate about something could make it seem less like work. 2022 will, hopefully, bring more new learnings and stories. As long as you continue receiving these newsletters every week, you may be assured that my experiment with freedom continues unhindered.
On that note, wish you all a very Happy New Year and may you discover this year, the thing that makes the humdrum of life seem worthwhile!
Good riddance, good move, good luck 👍
May you never squint teary eyed at a laptop ever again! Wonderful read as always.