Losing my job helped me find a sense of purpose

At the end of last year my circumstances changed dramatically. The firm that employed me decided it didn't want to employ me any more. I worked in radio – a ruthless business. If there's one certainty when you begin this career, it's that at some time you'll be sacked.

I thought I'd have more time to do all the things I never did when I had a job. Ha!Credit: Stocksy

Still, it was a shock, and devastating. I loved that show and our audience. I loved our team and the sense of belonging you get from all working together towards something you believe in. But since then I've learnt that getting the old marching orders is a very common experience. In fact, I meet people almost every day, in all kinds of jobs (well, mostly finance), who have been asked to leave, with varying degrees of compassion – from, "Last in, first out, you lose!" to "Ah, sorry about this, but would you mind terribly packing up your desk, we're putting in a robot."

It doesn't matter who you are, it will knock you around a bit. I was a touch teary and didn't sleep much for months. I may have clocked up a fair amount of loyalty points at the bottle-o and developed an addiction to honeycomb ice-cream. But you have to move on. And suddenly, you can actively and joyously create your own life!

It's a bit of a process. For me it took lots of meditation and mindfulness and listening to Sia and singing at the top of my voice until my kid told me I was hurting her ears. I made a list of the things I'm passionate about, and it was long and exciting. And now I'm happier than I've ever been. I have so many fingers in so many pies, you'd think I was re-skilling as a pie maker.

I now freelance and work from home. Which is code for working every minute of every day wherever you are. As an analogy, if you have an employer, you're on a boat. You're working very hard on that boat to keep it doing boaty things, but that boat keeps you afloat. People without a boat are in the water, swimming as hard as their little chicken arms and flabby thighs will allow, just to keep up. It's relentless and exhausting.

Hilariously, I thought I'd have more time to do all the things I never did when I had a job. Ha! I thought I'd finally have the totally clean house I've always wished for. Nope. Dog hair still blows through it like tumbleweeds. Turns out I hate vacuuming.

I thought my inner Nigella would kick in. Nup. Still a flavourless mash of wilted vegetables and unidentifiable defrosted meat, thrown on a plate like a Jackson Pollock painting. Turns out I'm just not a very good cook.

I thought I'd exercise every day. Ah, no. Turns out I'm just full of excuses. It's too hot, too cold, too windy. I can't go for a run, I'm having a good hair day.

And of course, at home, all I do is eat. I'll just have a snack before I start this next job. I've finished that job, so I'll have a snack. It's remarkable how often I can open a fridge in a day.

On the upside, now that I have my own hours, life moves at a slower pace. I stop to chat to people in the street instead of being that stressed, look-at-my-feet, stride-on-past neighbour. I've even read a whole book. This month, I've read three.

The best part is I'm only doing the projects that excite me creatively and align with the impact I want to have on the world: writing, filming TV stories for House of Wellness, popping up on The Project, motivational speaking, volunteer work. I even joined the school parents association, somehow ending up co-president. A part of me wants to say, "Next time I look like putting my hand up for something like that, lock me away until the urge passes." But mostly I love feeling like I'm contributing to my daughter's school.

And having first dibs on the cake sale. I do miss working in radio, and I'll definitely go back to it one day. But doing my own thing allows me to discover unimagined fulfilment. Turns out I don't need an employer to have a sense of purpose. Actually, it's easier to have purpose without one.

This article appears in Sunday Life magazine within the Sun-Herald and the Sunday Age on sale August 12.