(mis)adventures
can you ever really explore in the wrong direction?
In five days, I will begin a journey that I couldn’t have foreseen. It is approximately 3,730 kilometres (or 2,300 miles) from one side of Australia to the other. But before we dig into this adventure, I want to start somewhere else - a story about getting lost.
We now live in a world where switching off from technology is almost impossible to do. So much so, that the brilliant minds behind Unyoked have managed to build a lovely business out of our need to get outdoors more often, away from the hustle and bustle of life. While I thoroughly enjoy the witty newsletters, and the thoughtful messages that they often hold, I do think it’s a reflection that we have lost control of our lives (and perhaps our own sanity) that we have commercialised this need reset.
That being said, I have bought in. I spent two days in a cabin in the woods after finishing a brilliant book on wayfinding, which inspired me to take the trip and to navigate there without GPS. I was very proud of myself for seamlessly arriving at the designated parking area, but I was immediately less impressed when I realised that, because this is a cabin in the woods and of course there is no reception out here, I couldn’t load the cabin guide to get the PIN code I’d need to access said cabin…
It was already getting late, but now I had to drive most of the way back home to the nearest major town until I had enough mobile reception to load the page I needed. I became far too attuned to the little reception indicator on my car display, and would pull over immediately as it danced from the insufficient 3G network, a blank screen, and a glimpse of the 4G reception I actually needed. Now that I reflect on this (mis)adventure, I think it would have been faster just to beeline to the nearest town rather than stopping every few miles in the hopes of some miracle pocket of reception, but hey, the more you know.
I had to try and entertain myself on this unexpectedly extended road trip because I had already been driving for 3 hours, so I cranked up my music and tried to zone in on the joy of listening to it, rather than the arduous process of still driving. Arriving back at the cabin’s location could not have come soon enough, but much to my dismay, I still had a kilometre of walking to do - in the dark, surrounded by mysterious noises and very limited light, in the rain, with puddles threatening to drench my little weekender bag of clothes and precious laptop with my life’s work on it.
I know I said I was going to this cabin in the woods to switch off, away from technology, but that’s not entirely true. I wanted to use this opportune moment of peace to think clearly again - to finally get some words down on the (virtual) page, and record videos for a project that I had wanted to finish for weeks but didn’t have the voice to do so. I thought, there is no better moment to record a video series about the uncertainty of training design and coach development than while I’m literally living in a cabin in the woods, a metaphor that I have thoroughly enjoyed recently.
So I brought my wireless microphones and a little tripod for my phone, and I placed them opposite from me on a log while I spoke. I used the slides as a little reference point but fundamentally, I wanted to sound like I was having a conversation with the coach watching the video, as if we have known each other for a while and we are trading stories around a campfire. I think so much of our learning and development comes from these moments in between the formal, pre-planned, packaged education opportunities we are often force-fed, perhaps before we are ready or curious or unstable enough to really stretch towards them.
And if I wanted to make someone feel welcome while I record a video from the other side of the world, I needed to also be a little bit uncomfortable. I hope that resonance reaches through the screen, a reminder that we are all part of our own learning journeys, and while I may be presented as a “content expert” in this context, it is only because I have been exploring openly and writing about it in a relatable way.
This (mis)adventure is kind of the prequel to the one I really wanted to tell you about, but I like that it sprung to mind because it speaks to how many good things happen along the way to the things we look forward to. Sometimes I have to pull my head out of the future, often as I am catastrophising, and pay attention to the many wonderful things happening in the here and now. Here, now, I am learning to navigate a world that I did not think would accept me, and it’s been a fascinating journey already.
I interviewed for a job that I had to read the job description for before logging into the interview. It was titled “learning and capability specialist”, whatever that means, but it had some keywords that I was really excited about, in the nerdiest way possible. Female participation, coach education, development, community cricket. All of these words were presented together, and I didn’t think they could co-exist, but here they were, in the same document. I decided that there’s no reason trying to “prep” for an interview because realistically, I can’t be anyone other than my authentic self. And I’m so glad I was, because for once, I was happy with how the interview went. I spoke about my diverse experiences, the amazing people I’ve met and learned from along the way, and fundamentally, the way cricket has always been my first love, so any opportunity to help shape the landscape of how people interact with a sport that I will always have an affinity for would be a dream come true.
It took me two weeks to accept the offer when it came, and while the job is a mad rush now as a result of that delay, I am glad I took that long to really consider my options. Moving to the other side of Australia is no small feat, but it’s also a hallmark of how my life journey has unfolded - I shoot for the moon, expecting to instead land amongst the stars when people realise that i’m not quite qualified for the role, but then they take a chance on me and I find myself on the moon. It happened with my PhD scholarship - I applied to the University of Canberra through a Facebook ad that someone sent me, and I wrote the research proposal in 24 hours without the necessary publications or degrees to even pursue a degree at that level. And yet, I completed it within the three-year target timeline, with four publications to my name, and plenty of community impact along the way. I packed my car and drove down the east coast to start my PhD, and now, for my first full-time job afterwards, I will pack my car again and drive to the west coast of Australia to start fresh.
I didn’t really know what I was looking for when I applied, and then again when I spoke with other people similar roles and my line manager, but there was one line in an email that had me sold:
I would be disappointed if she didn’t want to change the world.
In all my (mis)adventures, I had been regularly reminded that you cannot change the world, that you are too small and insignificant, but I’d like to think I’ve always challenged that. And not on purpose, but just by putting myself out there. After all, you’ve read this far haven’t you? You’re just as curious as I am to see where this goes.
I had finally found a place that was willing to embrace, and was actually looking forward to, my plight to change the world so that sport truly is designed for everyone to enjoy. To quote Wayfinding:
To know the world is to feel comfortable in it.
In the margins of that book, I wrote “how many people will never experience this feeling”.
I think for the first time, in a working environment, I have known that feeling and I haven’t even stepped foot in the office yet. It looks like this (mis)adventure is going to be an epic one, and I hope you’ll join me for the journey.
Best of luck with the new venture, Alex.
Good luck with the road trip, too. And I thought a 300 mile round trip for a game of cricket was a long way! (We lost.)