Gloating along the glide path

It has been almost two years since I left the corporate world and started along the glide path to living my best life.

It’s been 725 days since I walked away from a fast-paced environment to forge a new way of working that was more on my terms.

Earlier this year, I started a meetup with others who were also determining their agenda.

The group has been meeting semi-regularly and is growing in numbers. Joining is by invitation only and there’s a strict no dickheads policy.

I’ve known some members for years and others for just a few. I like and respect them and introducing them to each other has been a delight.

We haven’t come from the same industries and don’t bring the same experiences, but we have moved on from prominent roles rather than being ushered out the door.

It’s empowering to leave something, even something you love, on your terms.

As we sit on a deck on the edge of the Swan River in the late afternoon with a drink in hand, we share our journeys and the experiences that have shaped who we are.

Newcomers to our group often remark they wish they had found us earlier. We have shared how angst-filled the final months were as we contemplated life beyond a full-time role that has defined us.

During our catch-ups, we talk of our current projects – writing, travelling, taking up board roles, spending time on hobbies, reconnecting with family and friends

– the highs and lows of life – caring for elderly parents, upcoming weddings and births, letting go of what once was, and the things we still want to do – and being just busy enough.

One of the foundation members recently emailed to the group: “I wanted to thank you for such an interesting, illuminating afternoon of fine conversation. It really was a great pleasure to be part of it.”

It’s encouraging to be part of a group of individuals who can set aside ego or one-up-(wo)manship to spend time at leisure listening and talking with no hidden agenda.

It is a breath of fresh air that is invigorating and pleasurable.

My life is so different now from what it once was.

I limped to the finish line in every year from my first as chief executive at the Urban Development Institute of Australia WA (2002-2006) until my last at Committee for Perth (2007-2022).

By late November every year, the tired, stressed and cranky aspect of my character was at its peak. Exhausted from the year, I told myself I just needed to get through the next few weeks.

Running at breakneck speed, I would focus on completing the to-do list and attending a round of end-of-year functions, all with a smile and good humour I wasn’t feeling. Everyone seemed exhausted, and all talk was of the impending summer break.

Perth in summer was the time of year that heralded the arrival of my fun and fun-loving side, who shooed away my stressed, work-obsessed persona.

Fun-loving me is the epitome of the domestic goddess. On long, hot days, swimming in the morning before the Fremantle Doctor arrives, reading and napping away the afternoons and cooking elaborate meals in the evening.

During this sabbatical from my everyday life on the terrace, the weight lifted from my shoulders, I slept better, laughed more, and quickly agreed to spontaneous adventures.

Come February, however, and I inevitably found myself reverting to my tired, stressed and cranky version, with the fun police ensuring the freedom of the holidays was soon overwhelmed.

Now, on my journey to living my best life, cranky me makes the odd appearance but my fun and fun-loving character is in residence more often than not. I love to make my husband laugh, cook for friends, play a special role in my grandchildren’s lives, and support my grown-up baby girl when she needs me.

My portfolio of work is engaging and shaped around this fun-loving agenda.

After a long look in the rearview mirror and with the benefit of hindsight, my advice is that you don’t let a role define you. You are more than the sum of its parts.

Seek joy in your life all year round rather than just during the summer break.

• Marion Fulker is an executive coach and mentor, and the chair of Perth Zoo