Life without permission

Most days I sleep until I wake up by myself. I get up every other day with a 25-minute morning workout, shower or not, walk around the garden, have a coffee in the sun. By the time I open my computer to get some work done, it might be 10:30. Some days there is an online workshop, a client call, a podcast recording. We drive down to the village to run some errands, for food or other supplies. We return, prepare lunch, eat around 2pm. Then we have a siesta, quiet time, reading, dozing. Then we start the second working session, work in the olive garden, work on the guesthouse or make phone calls to our clients. Evening comes. Time to light the fire, have dinner, read, watch a series. Sometimes we meet friends or have visitors, more in the summer than in the winter. If we feel like it, we go to our favourite beach for a day or half a day. Go for a walk, hike a bit. Work in the garden. Sit in the sun. Writing. Talking. Cleaning the house. Listening to music. Meditate. Working. The days flow like water, with a rough structure that leaves a lot of space. My calendar is open most of the time. There are a few scattered appointments, but many days are empty. This is my life on our Spanish finca in the Sierra Nevada. When I am in Vienna, life looks different, busy, busy, meetings, appointments, events, parties, workshops. I enjoy that too, but most of the time it is not my life.

I have no permission to lead this kind of life. In my family and society, a life has to be filled with duties and activities. The women in my family, up to my grandmothers and aunts, are all successful businesswomen and have at least 3 children. Their lives are filled with work, children, family life, entertaining guests, events, housework, gardening, some with help. The women in my family have all held and still hold positions of power, are used to being the centre of attention with public recognition. They are always, always busy, doing something. Doing nothing, slacking off? No. If there was to be a Sunday afternoon rest, it had to be earned, for example, by a long, hard walk in the countryside, a visit to church or some work around the house and garden.

Worth is defined by the level of business and success. And perhaps the number of children you have. By what you have and what you do, rarely by who your are. It took me a long time to admit to myself that I was not cut out for this kind of life. From childhood I was stressed by too much contact with people. I liked to be alone. Later I tried to live up to the standards I had learnt, became a reasonably successful student and consultant. In my thirties I was managing partner of a well-known consultancy, always busy, every day filled to the brim with client work and management tasks. I made a lot of money and gained a lot of recognition. But I was broke, really broke, suffering from terrible back pain and a prolapse, I couldn’t move without heavy medication for a year. One day I fainted in the middle of the office, just fell to the floor. There was this inner voice telling me: “You need rest and much more rest”. But it didn’t work, consulting is a very demanding and tough job, you are always exposed, you have to deliver on point, you have to be useful every expensive second of the day and you are always judged very harshly. When clients pay thousands of euros to spend a day with you, the pressure is incredible. You can’t be tired or in a bad mood. You have to perform, even if you are paralysed by period cramps or have the flu. The fear of not being good enough is fed every day. The level of stress is incredible, not because of the workload, but because of the fear of failure. Poison for an highly sensitive introvert like me.

Family: I don’t have any children and although I thought it was bad luck for a long time, I know that subconsciously I think I didn’t really want a family, or not enough at least. While I really do love children and I can’t imagine that I could love my own children any more than I love my nieces and nephews, if I’m really honest, I didn’t want to be surrounded by people all the time. Being in charge 24/7 and not having enough time for myself is very stressful for me. I don’t shy away from work, I can be a very hard worker, but being around people all the time is very exhausting. There are people who seem to thrive and recharge their batteries when they are in the company of others, for me it is to a certain extent, and then I feel exhausted and need space to myself. Whenever we were in groups in a hotel for training programmes or work trips, I was the first to say goodbye and whenever I could, I ordered breakfast to the room. Other people would stay in the bar until late and be the first at the breakfast table, with their voice and energy.

It was and is hard to admit to myself that I need a quiet life, away from the crowds, the noise, the hustle and bustle and the stress that seems to be normal. Yes, I am retreating and no, I am not hustling, not anymore. I still have my work, offering workshops, working with clients, maintaining a small network of consultants that I support and mentor, but this is no longer a source of stress. I allow myself to work on a very generous schedule. My husband and I moved to the countryside in Austria 10 years ago and to the Spanish finca in Andalusia 1.5 years ago. We still have an apartment in Vienna which we enjoy on a regular basis.

Sometimes I think I moved away from visibility to hide from the eyes of others — I think I was/am ashamed of not working and doing things all the time. As if I wasn’t useful enough. No children, no significant career, what a waste of potential, she could have achieved so much more. For me, to be able to live the life that is appropriate for me is a huge achievement, but it’s not something to share on LinkedIn. There is some guilt and shame around living such an unproductive life — it is not unproductive — but it is not filled with stress. The guilt and shame is around the idea that I am withholding something from society that I actually owe because I have received so much. To have so much time to myself, so much free time, where did I get the permission for that? I still feel I have to hide it, pretend I am busy and successful and doing lots of important things that matter, to earn my place at the table. It is pathetic. Being in the company of extroverted, loud, busy and successful women with large families makes me feel small and insignificant. It’s just me, it’s my own insecurity and lack of self-worth around it… it’s still a challenge to overcome. The hardest thing is to get permission from myself: am I allowed to live like this? Probably that’s why I live here on the slopes of the Sierra Nevada, around people who don’t care about careers and what you have and what you drive and how busy you are. Everyone lives their own life and we like each other for who we are and spend time together as we wish. We are all here to get away from the standard European life, some of us on the basis of some earnings from previous performing lives. I am also aware how privileged this life is, not everyone gets the chance, but not everyone would want to bear the consequences either.

For me it is still a fine line and a huge balancing act to function in the world of nature, olive gardens, Spanish goat farmers and foreigners from all over the world in our small communities and in the city, family and business life online and when in Vienna. There is still this desire to belong, to be part of the business life, to be an urban person, to do the restaurants, the culture and the social events.

I still have the feeling that I have to hide the part of me that needs more rest than usual, fewer people than usual and a lot of space and silence. There is no societal permission or familial for this kind of life and I am starting to stop waiting for it and start giving it to myself and anyone else who wants it.