Lalaine (lalaineb.multiply.com)

9.30 am at Starbuck’s.  I inhale the invigorating smell of freshly-brewed coffee as I sift thoughtfully through my e-mails with my newfound friend, pseudo-office and constant companion, my laptop.  Thank goodness for Wi-Fi!  The barista’s go about preparing their shop for the day.  A few friendly ‘good mornings’ here and there, acknowledge the ‘regular’ at the far end of the ‘no smoking’ section.  It’s a weekday and darn it, I can actually believe that I’m sitting here.

What was that cliché?  Stop and smell the roses?  My life today actually gives a new spin to that – stop and smell the latté.  It’s been just over a year since I reached point break in what was the professional rat race, and half a year since I decided to step out of an amazingly stressful career, which was squeezing the life out of my family and me, to take the plunge into the unknown –

My name is Lalaine and I’m a downshifter.  I have chosen a path less traveled, allowing myself to shift into lower gear from what was otherwise a successful professional life, but one that required humongous sacrifice and made me question my priorities.  Downshifting?  It provides me comfort and confidence to know that there is such a term, and that other people have done it successfully.  Downshifting, it seems, is slowly, but surely, becoming a global phenomenon, expanding people’s lifestyle choices.  So these days, it’s not anymore about being in the rat race, as opposed to being retired, versus being a homebody.

I was so surprised to see a documentary on the subject in the Korean satellite channel, Arirang, where they have featured ‘downshifters’ in Korea, the UK and other European countries.  Among the people featured were a high-flying multinational business director who set up his own small-scale enterprise to be within a more family-oriented and friendly environment, a Korean couple who left their careers to open a charming coffee shop in the mountains, a fledgling fashion designer who opted to rough it out on her own, and a Senior Manager of British Rail who turned to farming in his backyard after his demanding career costed him a divorce and the life of his daughter. 

Why are people downshifting?  Are these just extreme situations?  In the world today a lot of people are driven by forces, which inexorably control their lives.  For a good deal of us, including my previous self, personal success and financial stability meant giving in to the powerful corporate machine – churning and weaving, brusquely spinning people’s lives around, in exchange for fame and fortune.  To climb the multinational hierarchy, one must inevitably put his and his family’s fate at the mercy of the company.  Power, money and accolades have a high price.  Highly stressful work conditions driven by total commitment, irregular hours, incessant traveling and short and long-term postings in different countries, these are standard operating conditions which take their toll on one’s life and relationships. 

And as people mature, when the youthful thirst for personal validation has been sated, a certain level of security and stability has been achieved, and the claws of the corporate machine won’t release you for some much needed breathing space, you look at your life and start asking yourself – Is this what I want my life?  Is my work worth giving up my family and personal life for?  Is this all there is to it?  Does this define who I am?

I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity to choose, because downshifting is not for everybody, and certainly not for the fainthearted.  As the documentary so rightly pointed out, a person would need a strong constitution, emotional readiness and a certain level of financial stability, (and of course guidance from the BIG BOSS up there), to ease the process.  Downshifting means a major departure from one’s comfort zone – you live the same type of life for over a decade and surely a total change in your focus, routine and priorities, would cause ‘withdrawal symptoms’.

The first month was the most difficult for me.  Here I am, used to my 9 to 5, sitting at home on my first Saturday out of my ex-company, with nowhere specific to go.  As predictable as the type ‘A’ personality that I am, I have tried to put some familiarity in my new routine.  I would get up the same time in the morning, put on my suit, and conduct my business, wherever it is in town, with the same obsessed attitude that worked for me before.  But I have seen myself eventually transforming and relaxing.  Now I enjoy varying my schedule and venues.  Work could mean my new office, Starbuck’s (if I needed some creative stimulation) and home, and I would not have any difficulties (nor guilt) in having a totally mixed workday that included meetings, swimming lessons for the boys, coffee with a friend, a work-out at the gym, and a midnight snack while editing with my hubby.

But perhaps that was the easiest part; the hardest was feeling a certain loss of self in the beginning.  I now have to start from the bottom of my new chosen career, dealing with new people and it was quite frustrating.  There used to be a time when I could command a professional audience in hundreds with an excellent presentation, when I only needed to mention my name to get who I need on the phone, or when I did not need to lift a finger for small tasks, because I had people to do it for me.  This time, nobody knew me, and nobody knew that I am good.  I realized then how spoiled I was in my previous situation, how self-centered.  This was a very humbling experience, not a loss of self, but a pinch to my ego.  I now realize, that it was in my previous selfish career, where I have, indeed, lost a part of myself.  A friend told me, “You don’t need the validation, because you already had that.”  And I have to agree. 

I am happier, healthier and a better mother than I used to be, perhaps an even better person.  My patience and energy, which used to be depleted in the office, now have better use.  I have time for my family and myself, and I have found new friends along the way.  Although there are still some curious little things I miss from my previous life – interacting with the interesting people I have met in different countries, the muffled sound of barely understandable European languages as background in meetings, the slightly-citrus scent of freshly ‘popped’ Möet Chandon wafting in a stuffy airline cabin, and the simple act of traveling, which I used to hate.  But as I look at my boys now, I am very certain that I have given up that past life for something so much better.

Yes, I still enjoy working; I am still driven and have ambitions to achieve.  But my aspirations are now a lot more meaningful as I have put my life into perspective.  Just the other day, a close friend of mine joked, “When I grow up, I want to be you.”  I had to laugh at that one.  No, I’m not yet there.  My life is still a work in progress.  But I’m pretty positive that the best is yet to come.

My name is Lalaine, and I’m a downshifter.   And I’m so glad that I am one.