It’s been a mixed bag this week. My leave of absence ended and I returned to work. It was both better and worse than I expected. For the most part, there were no problems to return to. On the other hand my body has struggled immensely and I’m frustrated.
The train commute has been brutal and by the time I get to the office I feel like I’ve been punched in the kidneys repeatedly. It has left me tired, cranky and irritated by my limitations. A distance I could cover in just over 5 minutes now takes me 25 minutes. I feel broken.
In among getting up to speed on my work, I made some time to research UK visas and the cost has increased significantly since I last applied. It’s good in a way in that the extra cost involved is a health surcharge which goes towards funding the NHS, which is something immigrants and residents have access to. It’s a brilliant service and well worth the charge, no question about that!
It does, however, change the finances of the game and my impulsive decision to be gone by June has been put back into perspective. November was a more realistic target. That has put a damper on my mood somewhat.
Given the financial target I’ve set myself for the year in terms of savings, debt repayment and all the costs involved in relocating, it’s not a far stretch to say that I need to step outside my comfort zone to reach that target.
The mere idea of that terrifies the hell out of me.
To save the money I want and need to do this, I need to consider alternate streams of income. That means taking a chance on something outside of my regular 9-5. It means putting myself out there and risking criticism by putting my creativity on the altar to be judged.
It means I need to put my fear in a neat little box up on the shelf, stop listening to the eternal dialogue of ‘you don’t have what it takes’ and just do it. Take any endeavour in life and look around you; there are people just like you stepping up every day and doing it. Writers writing; painters painting; singers singing. Maybe the fact that we identify ourselves as something other than our passion is the problem here.
On the inside I’m a writer yet when people ask me what I do, I immediately say ‘I’m in finance.’ No. No!
Fear has a very loud voice and a captive audience. We need to stop identifying ourselves by the ball and chain that depletes our will. It’s time to take a risk and put into words what you really are.
I am a writer. I am a photographer. What are you?
