As many of you are aware, I am a
qualified social worker. During my career, I specialised in child protection,
which is an extremely stressful environment to work in for any length of time.
In 2013, with the support of my husband
Steve, I decided to take a year out of social work to write my debut novel, Known to Social Services, which was published
by Faraxa Books in February this year. The decision was not taken lightly, but,
I am happy to report, it worked out as planned. At the time Steve and I lived
in Gozo, but have more recently moved to the Midi-Pyrenean region of France. As
I explained in my last blog, we are here to offer practical support with DIY
(Steve) and horses (me) in exchange for living in a delightful little cottage
in the middle of nowhere. It also gives me space and time to continue writing. So the “year” I was taking out of social
work, seems to be creeping up to 2 years J
Our lovely cottage, complete with regular visitor, Grolsch the German Shepherd
As I walked down to the horses this morning in the warm sunshine, I realised that it was precisely 8am. If I were still working as a social worker, I would, by now, be at my desk in an office. Usually, an office that had inadequate heat and ventilation, which resulted in volcanic temperatures in summer, and freezing cold in winter.
As I walked down to the horses this morning in the warm sunshine, I realised that it was precisely 8am. If I were still working as a social worker, I would, by now, be at my desk in an office. Usually, an office that had inadequate heat and ventilation, which resulted in volcanic temperatures in summer, and freezing cold in winter.
I would be on my 2nd
cup of coffee and no doubt my 43rd email. I would already be feeling
the stress of the day ahead, and wondering how I would fit in, all the visits,
write the reports and make time to read the electronic files on the 6 new cases
I had been given yesterday.
There would be meetings to organise,
others to attend, and a host of other things to be done before the clock said
5pm and the office officially closed for the day. Then, I would remain at work
until around 7pm catching up on all the things, which did not get done during
working hours. It would not be unusual for the cleaners to throw me out! In
social work you must expect the unexpected; the children who go missing, the
husband who beats his wife to the point of hospitalisation, leaving their
children requiring foster care. The child who cannot go home from school; as
today is the day they managed to pluck up the courage to tell a teacher what is
really going on at home. One of a hundred things can intrude on an already impossibly
busy day, to the point that you realise there will never be enough hours, hence
the late night working.
Walking down the grassy lane to the
horses, I realised that I have made some exceedingly positive adjustments in my
life. I have exchanged dodging traffic jams for dodging the spider’s webs as
they tremble in the hedges and trees. I have swopped the hours I spent staring
at a computer screen, or dashing around making visits, for time spent feeding,
grooming and riding the horses.
Down the lane to the horses
I have uninterrupted time to think and to write and to appreciate what we have, which is much. While we miss all our friends in Gozo and our families elsewhere, we feel we are in exactly the right place.
Down the lane to the horses
I have uninterrupted time to think and to write and to appreciate what we have, which is much. While we miss all our friends in Gozo and our families elsewhere, we feel we are in exactly the right place.
Sunshine through the trees
There are of course other changes, which on the surface, may not seem so wise. I gave up a good income and the economic stability, which accompanies it, to embark on this new life and at times I will admit, I feel a slight panic in this regard. However, on reflection, all the clichés that we hear, and quote to one another have never seemed more apt.
-
Life is too short
-
You only live once
-
There’s no substitute for your health
-
If not now, then when?
-
It’s not worth the stress
When I left social work, I had a few
comments from my colleagues, which in essence, took one of two views …..
-
It’s alright for some
- Good for you
- Good for you
My answer remains the same now as it did then. It
all comes down to choices. We all have choices, though they often involve
taking risks.
I can recall being told at 4 years of age that I
was a “risk taker”. I had no idea what it meant at the time but I had
apparently been on a high slide, which my older brother declined to go on.
Having taken the risk to leave a well paid job, move overseas and try my hand as an author, I can say with
absolute honesty; I have no regrets whatsoever. How about you?
No regrets in moving here
Now, where’s my croissant J
Now, where’s my croissant J
Freya
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