What's the point?

She's probably thinking too. About milk.

I seem to have a lot of time on my hands during the working day for thinking at the moment.  I take the train into work; I walk (or rather hobble) half an hour from the station to the office; I repeat the journey in reverse at the end of the day.  What used to be a twenty minute cycle ride is now more like an hour’s commute. I’m under less pressure during the day so I can actually sit outside and take my time over lunch.  All of this leaves a lot of time for contemplation. I now realise this is not necessarily a good thing.

I’ve been in my new job for almost six weeks. The hours are great, the people I work with are lovely. I’m back in a busy office and my job is relatively interesting.  But I can’t help wondering what the point of it all is.   That may sound a little strange, so let me explain.  Not long after we returned from our world trip, feeling buoyed after a year of climbing and travelling, and depressed at the thought of a return to long days in front of a computer screen, I read a blog written by Dave Macleod (another of my climbing heroes – I have lots) about making difficult life decisions. He was writing in the context of improvement in climbing ability. As he wrote, “How are you going to get better at climbing? Don’t work now to get freedom later. It won’t happen.  Find work that gives you the freedom now. Getting through the issue of finding the right work that fits what you want to do (as opposed to fitting what you want to do around your work schedule) will most likely involve some radical action and some quite scary decisions or risks. It’s just easier to stay safe and not do it. But then, in no time, twenty years will have gone past. Don’t turn around in twenty years and find yourself asking the same question.”

I thought about that a lot over the course of the following year, as I found myself increasingly unhappy with work, and increasingly frustrated with the knowledge that I had tasted a life lived differently, but which was rapidly disappearing into my past, seemingly never to be repeated.  People would tell me how envious they were of our trip and I would respond by telling them that everyone should take a year of work to pursue their passion at least once, but that they should be aware that if they do so, it will ruin their life forever.  I was only half joking.  As the date of Lara’s arrival drew ever closer I found myself struggling to see how I could possibly balance my own interests - climbing, skiing, photography – with my desire to spend time with wife and new daughter as well as the demands of my job.  Ultimately, Dave Macleod was right, and the solution lay in some radical (and, yes, scary) decisions. 

Well, Dave, I’ve given up an obvious career path and good promotion opportunities so that I can work manageable hours, call my weekends my own and take long holidays. I have the time to climb and to ski, and am desperate to do both.  But the closest I can get to the great outdoors is the latest edition of Rock and Ice magazine.  And I know it’s irrational, but when I’m on the train, on the long hobble to and from London Bridge station, or when I’m sitting outside with my lunchtime sushi, I find myself thinking: what’s the point? Today I felt so down I went into Snow & Rock on the way home and bought a brand new headtorch (Black Diamond, lime green, half price). I have to admit, that cheered me up quite a bit (I’m wearing it as I type). 

The question of course, as my management consultant Paul might say, is a no brainer. Because every day when I get home form work, as soon as I walk through the door and hobble up the stairs, I scoop Lara into my arms and listen patiently as she gurgles away with a huge smile on her face.  I bounce her on my knee, I rub my face against her fuzzy bald head and I inhale the smell of her soft baby skin.  I remind myself that I have a beautiful daughter who I see every morning and every evening. Next year I will work a four day week and she and I will share a dedicated mid-week “daddy day”.  And it is in these moments that I can see with absolute clarity what the point is. Because in six months or so I’ll be back climbing.  Within a year I’ll be skiing again.  But this time with Lara is a once-only offer. And no salary, career, or promotion can buy that.