The other day, someone said to me: “I couldn’t do what you’re doing. I couldn’t have no structure in my day. I need to be busy. I need to be doing things.” Fair enough. Each to their own. But busyness to me feels like a trap that I want to use this year to wriggle free from. I’m going to give life in the slow lane a whirl. Some people call it a micro-retirement . I’m not sure that’s quite the right term. It’s more a pause, a break between chapters. A chance to reflect what I’ve learnt and think about what might come next. There’s a concept in running called periodisation. You train hard for a block of weeks, then ease back, allowing your body to recover and adapt. The fitness gains don’t come just from the training itself, but from giving your body time to absorb the work. Nature understands this. Fields lie fallow. Heathland near us is periodically burned to create the conditions for new growth. Seasons turn. Things die back, endings happen, and space opens up for something...
It’s been four weeks since my last day at the Mental Health Foundation, after eight years as Chief Executive and over ten years in total. I’m taking a break from work for a year - or what some now call micro retirement It’s been like stepping through the wardrobe in the Narnia tales - blinking into the light of a world where things feel and look suddenly different. I like it here but I’m still coming to terms with the change of pace. I underestimated how enriching leaving an organisation can be. I’m so grateful for the opportunity to say goodbye properly. To colleagues, donors, supporters and people who have been part of the journey. I’m not naive. I get it was a self selecting audience and those who were less enamoured with my decisions or approach probably weren’t queuing up to say goodbye. But I still got to hear moving, generous and uplifting feedback from colleagues - some of whom I’d worked with for over a decade. We (I am guessing it’s not just me) spend so m...