This subject matter might come across to some as a slightly self-indulgent post with which to kick off my latest blog venture. Tant pis. It’s one that I want to write, and one that I hope will answer a few questions.

I’d like to take you back to just over a year ago. October 2013 to be precise. I was in Dubai, working away for mega-PR firm Edelman and heavily engaged in the final few weeks of run-up to the 2013 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. The project, though glitzy and interesting, was taking its toll. 7 day working weeks, commuting from Dubai to Yas Marina Circuit (YMC-home of the Abu Dhabi GP) every day. Leaving the flat at 7.30, not back before 22.00. Tough certainly, but with the F1 weekend only a few weeks off I knew I could get through it and then look forward to some (relative) downtime afterwards.

Here’s the catch though – when you work for a PR agency, you are constantly at the client’s beck and call. That means phone calls at midnight, missed meals to fit in ‘emergency’ meetings (to all those working in PR and Marketing, an emergency meeting is needed when there’s a risk of a terrorist attack or risk of contagion spreading, not to decide which radio DJ is going to offer tickets to your event to listeners). Most PR agencies also aim to work for as many clients as possible (more clients, more money) and look to get their staff working at optimum capacity. This is corporate speak for hopelessly overstretched, under-resourced and yet still expected to deliver. Day after day. Week after week. Can’t find the time? Work late. Still can’t find the time? Work weekends.

Thus it was that I got a phone call from my line manager while in the pits at YMC, working overtime comme d’habitude and in the middle of showing journalists round the circuit. She was checking in to see whether I’d completed drafting the latest press release for one of our clients, an undersea cable-laying firm (insert joke as appropriate) and one of the most soul-destroying accounts I had the privilege to work on in my time in the UAE (the US weapons manufacturers were definitely also up there).

I was honest with my manager, and told her I hadn’t been able to do the work as I was working flat out trying to keep the Abu Dhabi GP clients happy. Apparently this wasn’t good enough. Although I quite obviously had no capacity to do a decent job of working on any account other than the Abu Dhabi GP, and was not going to have capacity for at least three weeks, I was still expected to write some inane fluff about the exciting new developments in the undersea cable industry.

Things became remarkably clear in that moment. I finally got it. The work never stops in the PR industry. There’s always another story to concoct, another release to distribute, another account to service. Even if all this constant hamster-in-a-wheel tail-chasing is to the detriment of whatever other work you are doing. It was never going to stop. I might be lucky and get a break of 2-3 days after the F1 weekend; following that it’d be straight back into the hamster wheel.

Realisations like this tend to pose questions of a profound existential nature – was this what I wanted to do for the rest of my life? Hell, was this what I wanted to do for the next few months?

The answer, irrevocably, was no. Life, in its most sublime, simplified essence, consists of experiencing the joy of each moment. The sheer bliss of simply being. It is diametrically opposed to the constant stream of social media chatter, the corporate rat race, the ever-revolving hamster wheel that we are told is what we should all aspire to.

I needed to quit my company, leave Dubai and pursue a professional path more likely to bring me happiness. The thought terrified me though. I had no real idea what the next job could be. My Dubai friends virtually all worked in PR and saw me as another PR professional, someone defined by their job. I’d been in Dubai for less than a year, and didn’t know whether I should look for another job in the city, head back to the UK or look to find work where I really wanted to be based, Latin America.

Decisions, decisions.

I spent the weekend working, preparing for the following week. Yet when I woke up on Sunday (the first day of the working week in many Muslim countries) morning I was gripped by genuine fear. Just thinking of the claustrophobic office environment, all silence save the background hum of printers and people typing, was enough to know that I didn’t want to walk through that door. Didn’t wanted to be ‘greeted’ by a room full of people too busy working on their client’s latest insane request to even look up from the flickering screens. I couldn’t do it.

I instead drove to a restaurant I regularly used as a workspace over the weekends and set up for the day there. If my boss wanted to call me, let her call me. There was no way I was going into the office. I settled down and began to work. The whole while though my head was spinning. Not being able to go into the office on the first day of the working week was a sign that all was not well.

And so I decided to do what your average Millennial would do at a time like this – watch some YouTube videos. These two, to be precise:

I’d watched both before, but now both Steve Jobs and Alan Watts seemed to be speaking directly to me. The message was incredibly powerful, clear and immediate.

13 minutes and 35 seconds later, and I knew I had to quit my job. Not tomorrow, not some time soon, and not once I’d got the next job lined up. I had to quit my job that day. Done, dusted, time to find a line of employment I was truly passionate about.

Ergo Central America, ergo tour leading, ergo the latest chapter in my life.

Fast forward one year and I am happier than ever, having finally realised my dream of sharing my love of travel with others by leading tours around Costa Rica.

Thank you Steve Jobs. Thank you Alan Watts. You changed my life – here’s hoping you continue to change many more.

For anyone who finds themselves in a similar situation, where they’re not happy with their job and yet are terrified by the prospect of handing in their notice and unsure as to what else they could do, all I say is this. Do it. Be brave. Your long-term happiness is far more important than short-term uncertainty. The ideal situation would be to quit and have your next post lined up, but this isn’t always possible. If not, take the plunge and back yourself to find something that will truly make you happy.

The inimitable Kahlil Gibran put it beautifully –

‘When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music

To love life though labour is to be intimate with life’s inmost secret

All work is empty save when there is love, for work is love made visible’

Life is too short to not do something you love!!