What do you want?

Some things defy convention: I LOVE mondays.

For the last 20 months I haven't worked on Mondays.  When I tell people this (or they email me at work on a Monday and receive an auto-reply informing them of the fact) their general reaction suggests they think I spend the day at home, probably in front of the TV, possibly in my pyjamas. So on reflection the statement that I don't work on Mondays needs some clarification.  Perhaps what I should say is I don't work for my law firm on Mondays.  There are plenty of things I do work at: cooking, food shopping and being a house husband, being a father to my two children, training to climb a 600m alpine north face.  Admittedly, whilst I work at all of these things, most of them could also be counted as play. But maybe the work/play distinction is irrelevant - maybe these things all just count as 'life'.

For me the single biggest positive change in my adult life has been choosing to work part-time.  It was only when I stepped away from the idea of a rigid five-day work week that I realised how much of an artificial construct this is: a product of convention, and nothing more. It is quite remarkable how our daily lives are dictated by conventional wisdom - it is, after all, just a point of view held by a majority of people rather than any sort of universal law of nature. But I believe that conventions change and in the same way that men no longer wear bowler hats (or, for that matter, ties) as a matter of course in the city, and supermarkets no longer close on a sunday, we are moving away from a strict convention that we have to work all day every day, Monday through Friday.  Or that we must start work in our early twenties and continue in one job, one company, one industry or even one profession for the rest of our working lives. Often (although by no means always) the most interesting people I meet, read or hear about, are those who have pursued a number of different roles in their lives, whether by pursuing a portfolio of different jobs simultaneously, mixing conventional work with child-rearing, hobbies or sport, making one or more complete changes in the course of their careers, or by constructing a life for themselves which allows them to work in blocks of time or only for specific periods during the year.  We would probably all agree that all work and no play makes Jack (or Jill) a dull boy (or girl) yet I am always surprised at how surprised, or even envious, people are when they learn that I have chosen to mix work with play (and life) as a matter of course.  I always point out that its a choice open to everyone.

When I was considering a career change, Dave Macleod (who regular blog reader(s) will know is one of my all-time climbing heroes) was a big inspiration to me.  A few years ago he wrote about making change and never wanting to look back in twenty years and wonder why he hadn't done what he wanted with his life.  He returned to this theme recently in a blog post about taking a year off work to climb.  His view was that this approach risks offering only temporary satisfaction, all the while knowing the clock is ticking down on your freedom.  As he says:

"If you are prepared to walk out on a perfectly good job for the sake of climbing, why not negotiate a better schedule as your first resort. If you’re thinking of leaving anyway, what have you got to lose? Naturally it will be an easier sell if you offer the solutions on a plate or point to an example of when it has worked in the short term before. Since jobs come in infinite shapes and sizes, there is no universal solution. It’s up to you to use your imagination, and then just about every other skill under the sun to make it actually happen. Whatever you choose, DO IT! Don’t leave it as a dream on the table."

Once again his words struck a chord with me. Perhaps the only thing holding people back is their (lack of) imagination. Or maybe it's a fear of stepping down to a lower level of disposable income or financial security. But no-one will make our dreams a reality for us, it is for each of us to take control - life should be something we do, not just something that happens to us. 

On one level, working a four day week is about working less, of course. Yet for me it is about something simpler and more fundamental - living more, and experiencing as much of life as I can in the short time I have available. I still find myself marvelling at how a career change, a paycut and a change to my working patterns has opened my mind to what life can really be about.  I'm not suggesting that everyone should work part-time. Many people don't want to, or weigh up the pros and cons and decide its not worth it. Yet we can find ourselves continuing on a path that offers limited satisfaction or even actual unhappiness, often because its what we've been conditioned to do.   So ask yourself: what's important to you? What do you enjoy? How much material wealth do you really need? In short, what do you want, and how are you going to get it?  

A great british adventure

Reaching what is technically
known as a "thank god" ledge. 

When I started this blog almost two and a half years ago it was intended - in part at least - to be a means of documenting my climbing exploits. But if I count - as I do -  indoor climbing as merely training for climbing, and only outdoor climbing as climbing itself, there hasn’t been much actual climbing to report of late.  

Last year was almost entirely a washout. So much so that I can comfortably count the number of quality climbing experiences in 2012 on two hands. 2013 began in much the same vein - after an excellent start to the year largely spent accumulating skiing days in the French Alps the British spring never really materialised.  The Peak District gritstone bouldering season came and went with nothing of any note achieved and apart from a welcome day clipping bolts in Tenerife for my mate Jon’s stag weekend, my climbing forays for the first half of the year appeared doomed to extend no further than the odd afternoon on the Kent sandstone outcrops an hour from our home in London. 

But belatedly the weather came good, and for the last few weeks the pressure has been on to grab as many days on rock as possible whilst juggling work, two children and assorted family commitments.  It all came together a couple of weeks ago when Dr Potter and I managed to coordinate a Monday off work for a day trip to Swanage in Dorset.  I am told that Swanage is statistically one of the sunniest places in the UK. Whatever the stats say (and I am a firm believer that faith in averages often leads to disappointment), the weather gods were definitely smiling. Sun, a light breeze and relatively calm seas made for a perfect day of multi-pitch sea-cliff climbing. Swanage summed up everything I love about traditional climbing in Britain - a beautiful setting, uncertainty about the weather, no-one for miles, a totally committing free-hanging abseil approach, belaying from a ledge with the waves pounding all around, superb moves up positive holds on steep overhanging rock, hanging belays from gear stuffed into just-about-solid placements, all the while not quite knowing whether you are good enough to climb the two pitches of E2 5c required to get back to the top of the cliff.  Everything about it spoke adventure. 

We finished by abseiling into an ‘easy’ sector of single pitch routes. Just the thing to round off the day by racking up the miles on some moderate routes.  How wrong we were.  By the time we started climbing, rock which only a couple of hours before had been warm and dry in the sun was now firmly in the shade and covered in a slippery layer of sea-spray.  Undeterred, Dave set off up an easy crack only to be unceremoniously dumped on his arse before he’d had a chance to place any gear (he has since attempted to show me the perfect donut-fossil-shaped purple and yellow bruise which he tells me covers most of both bum cheeks - so far I have resisted his efforts). The next climb saw me whimpering and wobbling up what should have been a very straightforward crack (described in the guidebook as ‘the most popular moderate route on the cliff’), gripping desperately to tiny pockets whilst my feet skated around on the soaking footholds .  After falling repeatedly - including onto a dubious and very rusty looking peg when my gear ripped out - I had a word with myself and carried on upwards to the dry face holds above.  I realised afterwards that for most of the climb all I could think about was one of Lara’s current favourite phrases - “don’t like it” - which kept repeating over and over in my head until I got to the top.  Sun, friends, adventure, a dose of fear - what’s not to love about climbing?!

Days like this are a welcome reminder of why I love living in the UK and just how much it has to offer.  Not just in terms of the variety of climbing but in almost every respect - possibly with the exception of the weather.  I have in the last week learned that in mid October I’ll be taking a new position as my firm’s Learning and Development manager for Asia, which will involve us moving to Hong Kong for a couple of years. Exciting times undoubtedly.  I have already checked out the climbing prospects in Hong Kong - excellent, since you ask - and there are many, many other things which will make it a wonderful place to raise a family.  Yet there is so much here that I will miss terribly - the home we have created for ourselves, friends to see, family to share fun times with, classic climbs as yet unclimbed, new areas to explore.  So as we embark upon the task of preparing to move our lives eight thousand miles around the world, perhaps the thing I am most excited about is knowing that in a few years' time I get to come back and discover it all again.