What about Chapter 3?

I’ve been pondering something for a while now and thought I’d write an article about it, more to see how others have tackled it, than to necessarily offer any solutions myself.

It’s something I’m calling Chapter 3. The phase of life that I’m about to enter once my youngest daughter flies the coop.

It’s a horribly simplified system. Broadly speaking, Chapter 1 was ‘pre-kids’. I have very little memory recall for Chapter 1, other than spending most of my weekends in supermarkets or shopping centres and having too much time to consider paint colours for walls. Chapter 2 is ‘kids’ although I should caveat that by saying I mean ‘direct day-to-day parenting of kids’, otherwise you might be forgiven for thinking I consider my parenting job done now. It’s the phase where your kids wake up every day in your home and you have to wipe their arse, keep the fridge stocked, wash their clothes every week, drive them around, entertain them and forfeit your TV watching preferences for something banal and vacuous. Again, I appreciate that many of these may linger and stretch for much longer than I’d like but the point is broadly true.

Which leads me to Chapter 3. When all kids have ‘left home’ – albeit only periodically – to expand their horizons, develop their independence and hone their skills (in drinking games…mainly). Our Chapter 3 ‘transition period’ started 2 years ago when our eldest went off to Uni, but comes into full force in September this year when Thing 2 hopefully gets the grades she wants and flees the homestead to join her sister in University land.

I don’t really know if Chapter 3 is the last chapter. I rather suspect not, but it feels to be the one that affords me the most freedom. Whilst I’m aware that I will need to continue to financially support my kids (and want to), they will hopefully become ever more financially independent with each year that passes and bar some significant discussions about wedding funding or house deposits, more of what we earn can potentially be spent on things we choose to spend it on…even if some of that is most likely preventative healthcare!

But this isn’t about ‘retirement’ or ‘taking it easy’. Like my Dad, I don’t see a time when I stop full time work and do nothing…whatever ‘nothing’ is. He just kept working on terms that suited him and his lifestyle. He went on more holidays with my Mum, but still kept his grey cells active and was a respected ‘expert’ in his field right up until his bloody stroke that changed everything.

I’ve always made career decisions throughout Chapter 2 that kept our kids central to the jigsaw puzzle. I’ve rejected (on paper) amazing positions in illustrious institutions because it would have meant horrid commutes and rarely seeing my kids. I’ve left sweet roles and equity behind because the effects that the job was having on my family was not something I wanted to compromise. I’ve always valued and prioritised family flexibility and time with my kids over salary, title, prospects or security. Often to my detriment, financially or career wise.

And I don’t regret it. Not for a second. I would do it all again in a beat.

But the primary reasons for these decisions are soon to leave home.

Which has started me thinking about what I can, or should, or might want to do.

Various random and often disconnected thoughts swim daily around my noggin. Nothing has connected with sufficient weight to warrant any decisions, but I thought I’d share some of them as some of it may resonate with some of you and you can share some infinite wisdom that will – in turn – help me. I can but hope.

They are – briefly – as follows…

1. Home tether.



There’s less of a need for me to ‘be at home’. I love the flexibility that my current situation affords me but it’s a luxury more than a necessity. Don’t get me wrong, I love being able to structure my day the way I want, but there’s a part of me that would be happy to forgo this – or at least compromise – for something interesting. I think. There’s still stuff that is important to me (IYKYK) but there are ways and means to circumnavigate such things in a way that works for all concerned. Would probably need to find a home for a dog though…

2. Travel.

I’d love to travel more. This is something I lamented in a recent article. I wish I’d travelled more with the kids when they were younger but we felt – wrongly at the time – that they needed stability and consistency. And by travel I mean ‘living abroad’ or longer stints abroad rather than just holidaying. We do pretty well on that front already. I did have a random thought that we should relocate to a different part of the world every summer for a couple of months (my wife is a teacher so we can afford a decent slug of time each year) and combine remote working with a bit of adventure. Kinda like repeatable mini sabbaticals…sort of.

3. Waiting for kids to visit.



I don’t want to be the parents that wait around for their kids to visit. I have a rather romantic notion that I’d like our kids to want to visit us wherever we may be in the world, rather than feeling a sense of obligation to seeing us. A little bit of me wants them to be a little jealous of what we are doing…that sounds weird but it makes sense to me.

4. Something.



I’d love to be part of ‘something’. As much as working as an independent is lovely and freeing, as someone who has spent a significant proportion working in design studios, there’s a vibe and a buzz from being around other creative and interesting folk that I miss. I certainly get a lot of that energy from mentoring creative individuals but it would be good to extend this to everyday vibes rather than fee paying clients! Also, it does’t have to be a ‘start up’ or a ‘unicorn’. By ‘something’ I just mean a common cause and drive with a few people. A crew. Sort of.

5. Doing more. Finding less.

It would also be nice to spend a little less time worrying about the next gig, rather than focussing on the current gig. Self-employment in whatever form it takes has a horrible habit of eating away at the back of your brain. Constantly badgering you to consider what or where the next bit of work is going to come from. With nearly two decades of business ownership under my belt, I’ve learned to compartmentalise my brain to deal with this uncertainty (more a useful evolutionary necessity than a deliberate tactic) and I’m fully aware that with different roles and responsibilities, the pressures are often different, not removed. But the constant unrelenting pressure to ‘find work’ takes its toll…whether you are conscious of it or not. I’d like to release that part of my brain to work on solving stuff rather than finding stuff.

6. Home building.

I still have a nagging desire to build my own home. Plenty of people have tried to convince me otherwise and some have been encouraging, but it still feels like something I might stupidly attempt in the not too distant future. However, I am reminded of the concluding 5 minutes of every Grand Designs episode where the couple look a bit broken, close to divorce, devoid of any disposable income and vowing over various dead bodies never to do it again. That’s pretty good evidence to suggest that it’s probably a bit futile…but hey. If I had to put money on it right now, I suspect I’ll probably not do it, but it’s a lovely thing to harbour.

7. Design ‘industry’.

I don’t necessarily need to be part of a design community or an ‘industry’ per se. The last few years have taught me that much of what is espoused or championed by the wider design community doesn’t always sit well with me. As much as I love design and what I can do with this skills I have learned, I feel no real sense of obligation to the industry as a whole. If there are such things as ‘norms’ in design, I don’t feel like I conform to them. I love being creative and solving stuff, but I don’t need to belong to a club.

8. Weird fascination with creative accountability.



Design has long pushed back against ‘measurement’ and when to does, it’s measured in commercial ‘uplift’ once a product is launched and sold, which for most designers is way past the point of their involvement or years later. I’m more interested in tuning creativity to deliver effectively in ways that can be more immediately accountable….in a good way. I love that design and creativity can be often be described as a bit ‘magic’, but I also want design to be seen as a critical ingredient that knits into the bigger wheel of delivery. It has its place. It’s neither the saviour (as most designers are known to chant) nor should be ignored. It is neither superficial nor absolutely critical. Plenty of products are successfully launched without any design input and plenty of products fail with more design input than they could possibly ever need. Let’s start to deliver creativity in ways that make sense to business and commerce, not just to the echo chamber we often find ourselves yelling into. I’d like to do some more of that.

9. It’s not my last job.



Whatever I find myself doing, it should just be something I do until the next thing. This isn’t about ‘slowing down’ or ‘topping up the pension’. It’s about doing something interesting that can use what I can offer in a meaningful and productive way. If that ends, then I will find something else to move on to. When I started my first business, I lamented the fact that most designers business owners either go bust or fade. I’m intrigued by businesses with finite terms. Calculated endings. It’s not always about exponential growth and exits. Kinda like Quantum Leap…for those old enough to remember. Or Nanny McPhee for the younger folk. When you need me etc. etc.

So there you go. A ramshackle hodgepodge of reasons and vague ambitions wrapped up in an opportunity. No bloody idea what I’ll do with it all, but I’m very keen to hear stories of others who have tackled this head on. I’m well aware that often personal circumstances don’t always allow people to make deliberate decisions about their future, but while I have a modicum of choice, I’d like to leverage it and do something interesting. I’d hate to get to a point where my body dictates those decisions for me. Something my Dad has experienced in spades.

This is an unusually short one for me. Enjoy it while it lasts!