I joined the world of work over 30 years ago and began a search that would eventually lead me to understand my own way of working.
I was fortunate enough to be accepted into a bursary programme for Personnel Management, as Human Resources was known at the time. Like many young people starting their careers, I assumed that if I worked hard, arrived early, remained reliable, gained experience and kept progressing, I would eventually find work that felt meaningful and sustainable.
On paper, it looked like a successful career.
I worked in corporates, mining, oil, automotive and engineering manufacturing environments, family businesses, retirement and healthcare, print and media, startups and consulting. I recruited, onboarded and offboarded employees, developed policies, managed performance processes, supported leaders and helped businesses navigate change.
Yet there was a question that followed me almost everywhere I went.
Why did work feel so much harder for me than it seemed to for everyone else?
I wasn’t lazy.
I wasn’t unwilling.
I cared deeply about my work and the people I supported. I took responsibility seriously and did my best to ensure people were treated fairly within the boundaries of my role.
But there was a heaviness that never seemed to go away.
The interruptions.
The complaints.
The politics.
The competing agendas.
The constant pressure to keep everything moving.
Every morning felt like I was gearing up to push against something.
I remember wondering whether everyone else felt this way too and simply wasn’t talking about it.
Or was there something wrong with me?
What was I Missing?
So I did what many people do when something doesn’t feel right.
I started looking for answers.
What I didn’t realize at the time was that I wasn’t searching for a different career.
I was searching for myself.
Searching for Answers
The search really began after a serious motor vehicle accident forced me to put my career on hold.
For the first time, I had space to question the direction I was heading in and whether the life I was building was actually the life I wanted.
At the time, I believed what I was looking for was more freedom and a different way of working.
I experimented with independent consulting because it offered autonomy and flexibility, two things I craved. But even then, I sensed there was still something missing.
I found myself drawn toward creativity.
Painting had always interested me. I loved interiors, colour and design. During my recovery I created art kits for children and sold them at a local craft market.
Nothing much came from it.
Later, an occupational therapist encouraged me to explore teaching, something I had dreamed about as a child. I enrolled in a teaching qualification and spent two years in the classroom.
I enjoyed aspects of it, but once again I found myself feeling drained by the constant demands and wondering whether I had simply chosen the wrong path.
Around the same time, I carried another dream quietly in the background.
Cape Town.
My husband recently reminded me that more than 30 years ago I spoke about wanting to live there. In my mind, it represented something different. Creativity. Colour. Art. Design. A life that felt more expressive and less conventional.
At the time, it didn’t seem realistic.
So I parked the dream and continued working.
Following the Clues
Over the years I kept trying different things.
I explored party styling.
I discovered surface pattern design.
I studied coaching.
I completed personality assessments and self-development programmes.
I worked through The Artist’s Way.
I trained in Human Design and Mindful Art Facilitation.
I learned to paint.
Each new direction felt like it might finally hold the answer I was looking for.
Yet something interesting kept happening.
No matter what I explored, I was always drawn to the same themes.
Understanding people.
Finding meaning.
Seeing patterns.
Creating.
Helping others find clarity.
For a while I thought Human Design coaching might be the answer. I built a website, completed certifications and imagined offering readings and workshops.
But deep down, I knew that wasn’t quite it either.
I didn’t really want to spend my days giving Human Design readings.
Just as I didn’t want to spend my days running workshops.
Something else was trying to emerge.
Over the last few years, I began developing ideas around workstyle, role alignment and operating rhythm.
At first, I thought these were simply new services.
Now I realise they were clues.
The Lesson I Didn’t Expect
Along the way, I learned something important.
For years I thought that if I could find an organisation whose purpose aligned with my values, I would finally feel at home.
But sharing an organisation’s values wasn’t enough.
I also needed the work itself to align with my natural strengths.
I could care deeply about people and still find myself spending my days managing conflict, investigating complaints, disciplining employees and carrying responsibilities that drained me.
The environment mattered.
The values mattered.
But so did the way I was spending my time.
The Thread Running Through Everything
Looking back, I can see that I spent years searching for the conditions under which I come alive.
I wasn’t trying to escape HR.
I was trying to understand my natural way of working.
I wasn’t searching for a new profession.
I was searching for work that aligned with my values, strengths and natural way of being.
Today, I can see a thread running through everything.
The HR work I enjoy most isn’t compliance, processes or employee relations.
It’s mentoring.
Listening.
Helping people make sense of what they’re experiencing.
Seeing patterns they cannot yet see for themselves.
The same thing happens when I paint.
I’m drawn to moments, people, spaces and objects that reveal something deeper beneath the surface.
I see essence.
And then I try to express what I see.
For years I thought HR and art sat at opposite ends of my life.
Now I realise they are connected by the same thread.
Both are expressions of seeing.
Seeing people.
Seeing patterns.
Seeing potential.
Seeing what matters.
I wasn’t looking for the right job.
I was looking for the right way to work.
A way of working that allowed me to guide, create, mentor, express and contribute in a way that felt natural rather than forced.
What I was really searching for was alignment.
And perhaps that is why the answer took so long to find.
Because it wasn’t waiting for me in a different company, a different role or a different career.
It was waiting for me to understand myself.
Understanding My Way of Working
If you’ve ever questioned your career, wondered why work feels harder than it seems to for others, or felt pulled in a different direction without knowing why, perhaps the question isn’t whether you’re in the wrong job.
Perhaps understanding your own way of working is the place to start.
Perhaps the deeper question is:
What are the conditions under which you come alive?