A personal reflection on rest, creativity, ageing, and learning to trust a different rhythm of work.

Recently, I have started taking a short afternoon nap — usually about 45 minutes. I almost hesitate to admit that publicly, because part of me still sees it as indulgent. Even now, after years of working and achieving, there is a stubborn little voice in my head that says, “You should be at your desk. You should be doing more.”

But I am beginning to challenge that voice. I am beginning to realise that rest is not the opposite of productivity. For me, at this stage of life and work, rest may be one of the ways I keep myself creative, grounded, and able to do meaningful work.

What surprises me is how often ideas arrive when I have stopped chasing them. A rhyming couplet for a poem. A thought about a workshop. The possible shape of a leadership programme. Sometimes it feels as if the idea has been waiting quietly in the background, and only appears when I finally stop filling every moment with effort.

The challenge, of course, is capturing those ideas before they disappear. I am learning that creativity needs space, but it also needs a system — a notebook, a voice note, or a quick message to myself. Something simple that lets the idea land and be revisited later.

Letting Go of “Always On”

One of the things I have noticed since becoming self-employed is how easily I can turn freedom into pressure. In theory, I have more control over my time. In practice, I can find myself feeling that I should always be available, always working, always at my computer — as if stepping away somehow makes me less committed.

Even after eight years of self-employment, I am still having to unlearn that. Some of my best thinking happens when I am walking, exercising, spending time in nature, or simply giving my mind permission to wander. That has not always been easy for me to accept. I have spent much of my working life inside organisational structures where time, presence, and output were closely linked. Now I am trying to trust a rhythm that is more personal, and perhaps more organic.

The Excitement and Fear of Working for Yourself

Being self-employed as a sole trader is both exciting and frightening in equal measure. I love the freedom of it. I love being able to shape my work around the things I care about: leadership, management development, personal development, creativity, and helping people understand themselves and others a little better.

But I would be pretending if I said it was all easy. There is also the very real question of how to keep earning, how to keep finding work, and how to stay visible when the world around you is constantly changing.

For much of my career, I worked in large organisations and held relatively senior positions. I was fortunate to become known as someone people could come to for leadership, management, and personal development. I did not have to think too much about marketing myself; my reputation, relationships, and track record often spoke for me.

When I started my own business, many of those relationships helped me make the transition. People were generous. They trusted me. They put work my way because they believed I could add value. I did not take that for granted, and I remain deeply grateful for it.

Over time, though, I have seen how fragile networks can be. People retire, move on, take voluntary severance, or leave organisations under financial pressure. New people arrive with their own trusted contacts and their own ways of working. Slowly, almost without noticing, the network I had relied on grew smaller — and I have found myself needing to begin again in some respects.

Learning a New Skill Later in Life

That means I now have to do something that does not come naturally to me: market myself. I have to talk more openly about what I do, what I care about, and where I can help. I have to make myself visible in ways that can feel uncomfortable, especially when part of me would rather just get on with the work.

I find that frightening. I am in my early 60s, and although I know age is just a number, I would be lying if I said I never wonder whether it works against me. At the same time, I do not feel finished. Far from it. I still feel creative, curious, energetic, and able to add value. I still feel I have something worthwhile to offer.

Perhaps that is why this small act of resting has become more significant than I expected. It is not just about a nap. It is about learning to listen to myself, to trust my own rhythm, and to accept that reinvention can happen at any age. Sometimes the bravest thing is not pushing harder, but pausing long enough to hear what comes next — and then being willing to act on it.

 

I would be interested to know: where do your best ideas come from, and how easy do you find it to trust your own rhythm of work?

 

#Creativity #SelfEmployment #LeadershipDevelopment #PersonalDevelopment #RestAndProductivity #CareerReinvention #WorkLifeBalance #LaterLifeCareers #ReflectivePractice