2010

Pursuing and realising dreams – probably nothing in life delights more. I spent this year doing exactly so. I must have had a good year.

I could not have endured one more stressful.

In July it erupted so suddenly you couldn’t even have said Eyjafjallajökull. Like the Icelandic skies my year split suddenly into two: the first half azure blue, the second dark and angry.

Building on a good 2009, I went about January to June doing my happy NParks thing. One high was Down Under, where I went to study the management of its beach parks. Earlier in the year I had cast envious glances at a senior staff who visited Europe to study cycling towns, wondering when my turn would come, if ever. Pretty soon, it turned out – just a year in the organisation! After the work (if it can be called that) was done, I realised a literal dream by visiting my exchange university, Bond. The faces had all changed, but that took away nothing from the site of some of my happiest days.

Fulfilment peaked a few months later when I was called to attend a senior corporate planning session. Being the youngest manager present made me proud; Ben saying “You’re almost part of the inner circle now” was momentous.

But irony struck most cruelly just a few days later, when I would unexpectedly exit that hallowed group.

When I was suddenly invited in July to head my ex-boss' former business, it defied belief – without even having to ask, here was a wealthy investor, a proven business, a showroom, and future shareholding – and refusal. I told Mr Seedy Al I was honoured he chose me to run his business.

“This”, he replied, “could change your life.”

A few fancy dinners later it would start, at 26, being an executive director of a six figure company.

Item one on the agenda hurt. Like tearing nail from toe, I painfully extracted myself from my collegial, congenial workplace. The next tasks got worse: keeping the job-swap secret from a disapproving father, dealing with a disgruntled former owner who was also a friend and benefactor, and getting the shaken business back on track.

Act two proved impossible. When my paymaster's partner started poking her very plastic nose into my leadership, I came to hate the company I had believed I would head. For when a painfully inexperienced newbie tries to pull the strings, the only result is a tangled mess.

Zhengx, as usual, unravelled the disarray: “Never work for someone stupider than you”. If I may add: Never work in a family business, and never believe the promises of a stranger. In chasing one dream I had taken a chance on these three, with terrible consequences.

The worst was the regret of giving up a perfectly good job for a fishy business; the effect, a daily reluctance to wake up to face life. I wouldn’t curse my enemies (save this one) with such a nightmare.

In September I told them after yet anther quarrel that I was quitting due to continued interference and unacceptably poor attitude. I was desperate to return to the friendly and familiar, but would a prodigal son be welcomed?

If the answer now was ‘no’, it would be a door forever closed. My professional fate rested on luck, relations and availability of position – truly scary stuff.

Thankfully it was ‘yes’, although the whole process rattled my nerves and humbled me deeply. A trip with Candice to Japan, adorned in a cool Autumn red and gold, helped calm my spirit.

On the back of that I am back, happier than before, because in the New Year I will be managing West Coast Park, a significant step up from my previous post.

With the benefit of hindsight, should I have I risked so much doing what I did? No. But might I do something like that again? Yes. Because I would feel worse if I had rejected the invitation and found out now that it’s doing well and I’m not part of the party.

But that screeching tune has thankfully ended, and at the end of this mad round of job musical chairs, I am glad just to be seated.