In 2024, I thought a lot about

It started as a niggle. An ongoing gripe with work; a weariness at endless meetings, an exasperation at things that never change. But a seed planted in my head as far back as January – there had been a shift, and this was going to be my year. I could feel it.

In the pub soon afterwards, it became obvious that there was a collective feeling of dissatisfaction among my group of friends. We agreed it was a time for change and encouraged each other to follow our urges for more creativity, less drudgery. That night was pivotal: that group would become my closest confidants for the rest of the year as we decided to embark upon ‘The Artist’s Way’, a practical book written by American author and filmmaker Julia Cameron 30 years ago.

For the uninitiated, The Artist’s Way is a 12-week programme which aims to ‘demystify the creative process and open up opportunities for growth and renewal’. It asks us to revisit our childhood, our impulses and influences, and any creative forces that drive us. Being British and inherently eye-rolly at self-discovery woo-woo, we re-named our glorified book club ‘The Dickhead’s Way’. Though ultimately we had to lose our cynicism and throw ourselves into it – there is no room for self-deprecation in The Dickhead’s Way.

We agreed to meet weekly, which was a great support, but it was down to each of us to do the work. This included daily writing, weekly tasks and allotted time to ‘play’.

I got up early each day to write stream-of-consciousness ‘morning pages’, dumping my disparate thoughts onto the page to clear my brain for the day ahead. It didn’t matter what I wrote – whether it ended up being a to-do list for the day or a dissection of my dreams  – the important thing was the practice. I went on ‘artist dates’, taking myself off on little jaunts to galleries and exploring different parts of London. As someone with two small children, it took some adapting to the idea that being ‘selfish’ (Julia’s word) was a good thing. Also, as the youngest sibling, I’ve never been very good at spending time alone – until now. I found that the more time I allowed for myself, the more I craved.

Within a few weeks of following The Dickhead’s Way, I’d decided to take a career break. A 6-month, unpaid sabbatical, starting in the summer. My intention was to explore the part of me that had been long forgotten: the lively little girl who loved to write stories and create characters out of anything from cut-out sketches to marbles (yes, I named my marbles).

I used this amazing opportunity to explore things that interest me. I wasn’t sure if they would lead to anything concrete, but I wanted to ensure I explored all avenues.

I took a personal styling course as I love clothes (in particular, scavenging for vintage treasures) and the creativity of styling. I volunteered as a stylist to help dress women who are seeking employment for job interviews. It’s enormously fulfilling to match them with clothes that give them confidence and have the potential to help them get the job. 

I started writing fiction too, and I found the words flowing out of me. I’m not sure where it’s heading (note to self: must read up on plotting), but the act of doing it is enjoyable. My inner storywriter is happy.

And I’ve allowed myself to just ‘be’: to start my days slowly; to go for coffee with a friend; to do yoga. I’m grateful I can be more present in the moment for my children, and that they experience me as a happy parent. I’ve felt stress leave my body. 

I feel alive and fulfilled and I have not missed my job for one minute.

Taking six months out is an enormous privilege, and the money won’t last forever. So, do I go back to the grind, and make more effort to pursue hobbies on the side? Might that scratch the itch? Would it take away the joy if I turned a creative path into my work? And would I be able to make a living? 

Cameron, author of The Artist’s Way, says: 

“When we do what we are meant to do, money comes to us,... and the work we do feels like play to us.”

I’m not sure how to make this work in practical terms, but I sure would like to try!

Reflecting on my time doing the Artist’s Way, I’m struck by how far I’ve come. At the beginning of this process, I felt my creativity was a thing of the past and that my imagination was lost to adulthood. I went to exhibitions but didn't feel the need for art. Now I am seeking it out. I also feel a stronger need for human connection and am meeting new people who inspire me every week.

If I do go back to my day job, I’m determined I will keep some of this creative energy going. And if I don’t, I’m proud that my children will see that they don’t need to pick just one career and stick with it. 

Life is about change, and sometimes the things that fulfil you the most come from taking a risk.

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