Octobers
i.
October might be my favourite month. Not because of what happens now, but because of what happened then.
Berlin, 2008. The end of a long, drifting summer. I’d spent it cycling to flea markets, playing the odd gig, and orbiting a small community of digital artists who seemed to live entirely on Club-Mate, musique concrète, and possibility. When the air turned cold, most of them vanished: back to residencies, studies, or more stable lives.
I stayed behind.
The money had almost run out. My sublet was ending. The sensible thing would have been to fly home to the UK, to whatever awaited there which, if I’m honest, was absolutely nothing.
But I didn’t want to go back to nothing. I wanted to see if I could make something.
ii.
17 years later, this October has also been about making something.
Deep focus with two brilliant client projects. Short films for YouTube on my 700 hours of coaching and the curse of the generalist. Newsletters on Net Promoter Scores, the Jobs To Be Done framework, Agile methodologies, and nonprofit accelerators.
A new demo song.
I also ran 142km of trails, spent amazing time with the family, put the winter tires on the car. I turned 44.
But I also feel tired. Like, really tired.
Maybe that’s why I keep thinking about that October, the one that set all of this in motion.
iii.
A week after I had decided to stay in Berlin, October 2008, the universe rewarded my bluff. Transmediale secured a little money through OKB public television, and I somehow became “Head of Streaming” at the festival, which sounded pretty legit for a guy who was, essentially, just quite good at Googling how to do things. I was paid €1000 for three months work.
I feel the charge of that October every time I start to see the fall of orange leaves, or smell coal fires. That October changed everything, not because of what I did but because of what it represented. It was probably the first time I’d taken a genuine risk without a safety net. No backup plan, no guaranteed next step. Just conviction.
And it worked. The city didn’t throw me out. It invited me in.
Every October since, I find myself thinking back to that moment, to the decision to stay, and the sense of falling forward into something uncertain but necessary.
iv.
I have to be honest. Somewhere underneath this October, the edges have started to fray. I’ve built a life where things keep happening, where I am extremely lucky to be able to pursue multiple passions. But there has not been nearly enough space between them.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what Anne-Laure Le Cunff calls the three cognitive luxuries: spaciousness, agency, and depth.
- Spaciousness: the ability to think slowly.
- Agency: the ability to think freely.
- Depth: the ability to think deeply.
Spaciousness is the foundation, and lately it’s the one I’ve lost.
v.
At the end of November, I’ll be forced to find spaciousness again, however. I’m having a hand operation and pressing pause on almost everything for at least a month: Theory of Change, client work, deadlines. I haven’t yet decided about YouTube.
What I do know is that I plan to spend December differently. No output. No performance. Just reading through my antilibrary, all those books I bought for a future version of myself who will, apparently, have the time.
October always, always reminds me that uncertainty is never the enemy. Sometimes it’s the condition for renewal.
Where were you in October, 17 years ago?
Take care,
Adam
This month I received my first support in the form of tips. I cannot tell you how happy that made me! If you find any of my work valuable or interesting, and you'd also like to support me to create more writing, photography, films, or music, you can tip me here. No pressure. I'm just glad you are here.