coffee off the clock is a weekly column full of musings on life since i left my 9-5, and building a life around writing. join me for a coffee every week and follow my journey!

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i’m tucked beside the glass cabinet of cakes, my shoulder pressed to the lightest shade of olive paint. the coffee machine reaches furious pitch behind me. billy ocean sings in the background, competing ever so slightly with the soft hums of voices.

i’m surrounded by best friends and boyfriends, busy baristas and a bustling renfrew. i initially chose the table by the window, the perfect people-watching perch (what is with my alliteration today?), but the bravery quickly subsided when i was shot a firm glance by an elderly woman over the top of her nose, swirling the teaspoon in her cup. so i opted for a more hidden spot, out of disapproving sights. i’m feeling brave but not that brave…yet.

it feels weirdly performative to take my laptop out and write a column. that’s why i’m being a little shy. it feels halfway to taking a long drag of a cigarette and recording a voiceover on top of the b-roll of my oh so glamorous life.

i’m not carrie bradshaw from sex and the city. i’m ailsa gillies from rothesay. that’s why when you feel compelled to take your column outside, into this big bad world, let’s start with baby steps, ailsa. not the seat by the big window, but the hidey-hole with perspective.

today i’m on a solo brunch, reader. i’m at the wee olive in renfrew. a syrian-scottish fusion. just like myself and majd. and if you’ve been following this journey, you’ll know that i’ve tried just about every pancake dish in the west of scotland, but today, this very brave day, i felt like a pesto toastie. who even is sheeee?! she’s gone savoury. but my latte was sweet as ever – hazelnut, of course.

remember last week we were talking about the transformational powers of inconvenience? well, i’ve been sticking to it and doing things…just because. today was veryyyy inconvenient. hayfever at an all time high. mood at an all time low. but i promised myself last night that i was going to take this column outside of the same four walls, just like i had intended to when i created it.

i’m continuing to show up for myself in the small ways: going for long walks, weekly swims, charity shops and taking myself for brunch. discovering in that ordinary process that i’m more than who i thought i was. it all comes back to that question i posed to myself a few weeks ago: who are you when you aren’t healing?

i wish you could swim, like the dolphins could swim. this week’s song choice. reader, you’re going to looove the relevance of this song as you read on. i think i’ve done well this week, if i do say so myself.

anyway, songs aside, i keep thinking back to my dream last night. i was looking at a zoomed out map of the uk and tracking my progress as i began the adventure of walking my way from the north in scotland to the very south in england, taking stops at hotels in between. there were companions on my path: majd during one short journey, my mum during another, then my sister. i knew the journey was going to be long but i knew i had the endurance and above all, the will, to do it. i was willing.

when i woke, i was relating to my own waking journey in a different way. i’m no longer valuing my work by external metrics or worrying that i’m behind. i have perspective. this path is not about virality, overnight success or instant gratification. it’s not supposed to look glamorous on the outside. it’s long and oftentimes tedious. it’s not fireworks – it’s a sustained flame. and flames need constant tending.

the difference from last year is that i’m no longer dismissing or invalidating it. now, i’m a willing participant. i’m willing to go the full road and back again because i know this is exactly what i’m supposed to be doing.

i’ve been exploring the idea of ‘vocations’ recently; people, who like me, have received ‘the call’ to leave their job and pursue something meaningful. at the risk of this sounding like some sort of spiritual superiority, let me start by saying that i believe we all have a calling. sometimes we just aren’t ready for it.

but i believe it waits. and waits. appearing in the authors you get envious of. the musicians you mock. the “they just got lucky”s. jung says it best: “everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.” sometimes it’s easier to be the armchair critic than to risk becoming more of yourself.

i got into my bed last night, tired and a little sore from the steps i’ve been doing since the kiltwalk. i began flicking through the power of myth by joseph campbell. this came after finishing jung’s man & his symbols. one of the many promises i’ve made to myself: you don’t get to buy a book until you finish the one you’re already reading.

as i’ve been teaching my writing classes (which jung has hugely influenced my teachings), i stumbled upon joseph campbell during some prep. campbell is credited with the idea of following your bliss (and your bliss tends to be your vocation!) and also influencing george lucas’ star wars, specifically the idea of the ‘hero’s journey’. the hero’s journey is everywhere, from ancient myth to modern storytelling, and we often experience it in our own lives. curious to see if you can pinpoint any particular time in your life with the hero’s journey. 👇

campbell spoke exactly about the danger i was in just a few weeks ago. that the end of the hero’s journey is not the “aggrandisement” of the hero (i.e the act of enhancing the power, wealth, position, or reputation of someone or something). the end of the hero’s journey is when you don’t identify oneself with any of the figures or powers experienced.

it sounded sooo abstract at first but then it clicked. i’ve written a thousand times in this column that i began as the hedonistic, city girlboss. someone that could not be tamed and quite frankly, didn’t want to be. then, i swung to the other side, domestic and romantic, building structure and responsibility. but i ran the risk of over-identifying with only one fraction of my total self. one experience on this journey. the world, our psyches, the universe, whatever you want to call it, is always in search of harmony; of balance. and it will swing to extremes until it finds that – even look at our modern politics.

so, as you can see reader, i’ve been spending some time drawing the parallels between the hero’s journey, integration and stepping into vocation. they all run alongside each other and that’s what makes my vocation so hard to define. it’s not writing. writing is my craft. my vocation is the totality of all i am and i’m still to figure that out. so far, i’ve discovered the author in me, and then, what i thought was impossible for me – a leader and teacher.

essentially, the end of the hero’s journey is exactly like jung’s idea of integration (becoming the full, whole, authentic self). as jung beautifully puts it: “we meet ourselves time and again in a thousand disguises on the path of life.” other people are often mirrors for the unmet parts of ourselves. the aspects of ourselves that are shamed, repressed and forgotten. i’ve learned this a lot, and it’s not always the easiest pill to swallow. if you’re curious what this looks like, i wrote a poem about my own ignored aspect – the explorer in me.

we move through different identifications and psychic extremes until we gradually realise the self is larger than any single role, persona, instinct, or power you temporarily inhabit. aaaaand this is when i realise i need to start calling this column philosophical fridays 📚😆. if i haven’t convinced you to go down a jung rabbit hole or look into finding your vocation or discovering your self, then there’s always next week, reader. remember, i’m enduring now!

i left the wee olive and headed straight for the salvation army before catching my bus. that’s where i bought that little jacket for just £4. she’s so back (i say every week after buying something from the charity shop). as i rushed across the road for my bus, i met the eyes of a woman at the stop who began telling me about the many deaths she’s faced recently. not even a hello first. just straight into it. i kinda have to admire that. i’ve never been a fan of small talk as you can tell.

then, as i’d just came home to greet bee, i got a package delivered. the driver handed it over, before hesitating to walk away. “did you vote?” he said, looking at me a little shy. i told him i had. he said to me that he was very fearful about his human rights with the rise of the far right and i explained to him that i completely understand. we discussed the parties for a bit before he mentioned reform and asked what i thought.

sparing the details, i said i don’t stand with anyone that promotes division and hatred. he put his hand on his heart and smiled. i let the silence hang slightly and i said “i’ve always been a ‘one love’ kind of person”. god knows why i said ‘one love’. it was giving girl discovers bob marley for the first time. i’d also just taken my neighbours’ bin into my garden by accident as well. so i was a bin thief and cringey. girl, pick a struggle.

anyway, after i cringed at myself, he threw me a peace sign and said “that’s it – one love,” as he walked away. kind of a heartwarming wee moment. to be cringe is to be freeeeee.

until next week reader, may all your coffees require a little heroic bravery and a wee bit of ‘one love’.

– ailsa x