By Paul Streets, former CEO of Lloyds Bank Foundation for England and Wales.
Recommended additional reading: On parting
It’s nine months since I wrote ‘On parting’, published the day before I left full-time work in June last year.
In closing, I said I might be back in a few months to tell you how it is. So here goes. I realise this is a deeply personal perspective but I hope it is of value to others setting out on this life journey.
First things first. It’s a massive change. Nine months in could be a metaphor for a kind of rebirth. You might imagine it before you arrive – I’d been doing that for months before I took the plunge. But, like so much in life, imagination and reality are quite different.
I think that’s because the foundations that have underpinned your life have been taken away. As I write that I almost feel myself wince that my foundations were built on work when I have a large and loving family and friends. But, as I confessed last June I am (or was) a ‘serial chief executive’. That’s a big habit. And on occasion a bad habit, consuming every hour 24/7 – in mind if not in body. So it’s not surprising it’s like experiencing a kind of detox. And like any detox you have to work through it and avoid the temptations to kick right back in.
I suspect that’s one reason why so many busy CEOs seem to move straight from full time paid to full time ‘other’ work. It’s very easy to do. And it would feel very comfortable. A few boards, a chair or two roles, maybe some consultancy. And hey presto you’re as busy as you were before. But, for me at least, it would leave little space for anything else, as I have been mentally honed to focus fully on work. Decades of learned behaviour.
All the best stuff I read before I stopped advised to avoid that as a default response to the loss of full time work. The bereavement, as I called it last June. And I’ve followed that advice, which hasn’t been easy. I probably could have filled my time several times over if I’d responded to the approaches to do this or that. And it’s easy to succumb. FOMO remains a big issue for all recovering CEOs I suspect.
All the advice is that you should create the space to see what else might fill it. To find other things for this next stage of life.
When I was envisaging this last June I imagined a big CEO void would be filled with cycling, reading, listening too, and maybe even learning, music. And of course a lot more time spent with family and friends. A different kind of structure and pattern just doing different things.
But it hasn’t been like that. And that’s the biggest change. There isn’t a structure or a pattern. I’d imagined it would just be a new one. But suddenly your life isn’t dominated by that ‘avalanche of appointments’ I referred to in June and CEs will recognise. Least not work ones. Personal ones do step in. Days out. The odd lunch. And for me, the residue of non exec work I still do (about a day a week). But life becomes delineated not in what you are doing today, tomorrow, this week but what’s coming up next month. And there is space. Real space – for the first time in years. Space to be spontaneous after a life when almost everything had been planned to the hour or minute usually months ahead. The release of the pressure that comes with that is genuine. I loved my last role, and most of the others before, but until you stop you don’t realise how much that had dominated your headspace – all the time.
And that opens up opportunities. You can say yes a lot. Yes – you can go to that event next week; walk tomorrow because the weather is nice, pop out for a coffee and a chat. The joy is with the adrenaline gone, or toned down, there is no need to rush all the time. There is time for projects I’ve been putting off for years, or dreaded because they would be packed into weekends when I needed a break. I’ve been decorating rooms. A horror for some. But wonderfully cathartic for me. Painting listening to Classic FM (though after the 3rd coat and 5th day both painting and music get a bit repetitive). But wonderfully untaxing with a beginning, middle and end which you walk away from and forget. At the moment I am loving projects that aren’t followed by another set of actions and demands.
But the hardest bit of the CE habit to kick is the control freakery not the structure. Control freakery is embedded in my DNA. I’ve become accustomed to getting my own way. Asking for something to be done and expecting it to be done. Delegating. Overseeing the progress of an organisation with the odd steer. Managing upwards with the board. The bread and butter of organisational. Life as a chief exec.
Home life isn’t like that. As my wise friend reminded me ‘remember Paul when you’re no longer a CEO, no one is paid to listen to you anymore’. And that’s especially family and friends who can’t become your surrogate staff. The fact is I am domineering. I’ve been trained for 20 plus years to be so. To be at the centre making decisions and getting stuff done, albeit through and with people. And I’ve got a kick out of that. When that played out at work it was seen as normal CE behaviour. At home it isn’t. And I am learning (slowly) that I don’t always get my own way.
Nine months is a short time, in the context of what I hope will be many more years, and I realise I am in some kind of ‘transition phase’ between work and whatever comes next. I am also privileged to be able to make choices about what that may be. But unlike a career ‘what comes next’ doesn’t need to be planned and built. It can just happen – if I give it some space.
This is just the first phase. Some it is what I expected. Some not. I imagined I would just do more of what I liked when I work. Cycling nine hours a week rather than three. Reading novels. Picking up some new things like piano. And I’d drop things I struggled alongside work like non-executive work. But I haven’t needed to cycle since I stopped – I realise it was all about stress relief. I haven’t the time to read novels – too busy deciding paint colours. And piano can wait – for the moment. Meantime the non exec work I was sure I was going to drop has become the recognisable bridge between my old life and this emerging new ones. Familiar, albeit from the other side of the table, and it gives me some structure for about a day a week. But it doesn’t keep me awake at night, and it’s discretionary. I don’t need to do it. And probably won’t in a few years. But at the moment its helping to cushion the shock of not being employed full time.
My reflections nine months in:
- Embrace it fully. It’s such a massive change for full-on CEs – but as a full-on CE, you should be accustomed to change because you will have delivered lots of it to and for others. This one has no strategic or operating plan. No milestones or outcomes on which to consult. Only those you might want to set yourself. The journey is yours to decide – that’s the fun of it. You can go your own way.
- Whilst it can be disconcerting, there will be recognisable tramlines. Anticipate those but expect, and indeed be prepared, to come off the rails from time to time.
- Anticipate that there will be as much change for those you love the most – and especially your life partner for those of us lucky enough to have one. You’ve probably planned a bit for that – but they won’t have. There will be parts of that they will likely enjoy. And parts they won’t. But you are going to spend more time together than you ever have. There are many joys in that. And some challenges. Part of the trick is to understand you will likely still do quite a bit of stuff separately and separate domains. That’s OK. But you will have the chance to do and try things you may always have wanted to but never had the time. Separately and together.
- There are going to be behaviours you will struggle to change quickly as a ‘recovering CE’. For most CEs control freakery is likely to be one of them. Your staff probably accepted that as a necessary part of ‘driving’ things forward. Your family won’t and shouldn’t need to. Just be aware of and work on it. One way of adjusting is to accept the separate domains as a necessary part of the transition. You’ll recognise Venn diagrams from all those powerpoints. But I suspect the key is looking for those parts that overlap and seeking and enjoying more.
- There are lots of things I don’t miss. The mad diary. The constant preparation for board meetings. The very long days. The busy train commute. The in tray rattling around in my head all night. January and post holidays blues.
- And there are some things I do. Especially the people I worked with in my organisation and networks. That camaraderie that comes from common cause and purpose. And at its best develops into genuinely enjoying the people you work with. I really miss those less formal chats with my staff. But they’re not ‘mine’ anymore and it is important for them and for you that you let go. I returned to the office to see people for the first time last month. I still liked them but that separation had taken place.
- Forget work legacy. Of course there will be stuff you’re proud of. And people you have left an imprint on (I had some lovely and affirming comments on Linkedin after my recent honour) but in a few years that will mostly have passed. You’ll likely retain a (surprisingly) small group of people you worked with as friends. You’ll soon figure out that many were contingent on your title and position. But the most important people for this next stage of life are family and friends. Embrace the opportunity you have to be with and enjoy them. Make them your mission for this next stage of your life knowing, whilst it may have no strategic plan, there is no reason why it shouldn’t bring plenty of opportunity for new visions.
I hope this is of some value to those approaching similar journeys. Let me know and I might have another crack in 12 months when I’m past parting and have established a pattern. Perhaps.