When the Floor Falls Away
On coming home, letting go of purpose, and learning to fly - my story part 6
Last week, I shared how I turned around in France—how I drove home instead of continuing to Germany. How I chose to leave university, even though it felt like the same old pattern of quitting.
But this time, something was different.
This time, I wasn’t just running away. I was running towards something, even if I didn’t know what it was yet.
This is what happened when I got home...
Again, this was a difficult decision as it felt so much like every time before when I’d given up on something and walked away just because it got hard.
I felt this sense of failure and shame in admitting this.
But I also felt okay about it.
I told a few people who I trusted, and through those conversations I began to see it was okay to not continue studying. That it was also okay to feel lost and unsure.
I stuck with my decision to leave university.
And I felt okay.
Somehow, I knew it was the right thing to do, despite it feeling so much like a repetition of past patterns and a reinforcing of the quitting and giving up.
And whilst these fell away as what I decided not to do, it gave me energy to talk about and think about what I did want to do.
I’d really enjoyed my first year of university and being a student. And so I thought, I’ll continue studying next year somewhere closer to home and a subject that not only interests me but I could also use as a stepping stone into work afterwards.
I’d allowed myself to question the studying abroad and Aberdeen, but not yet the studying itself.
So I spent time researching courses and universities. I went to visit a few and I spoke to family and friends about what they thought. I looked at my interests and skills, and I settled on an education course.
I found the universities I liked that were close to home, so it seemed I was getting somewhere.
All the while, I was working on building consistency with the practices of running, meditation, reading, writing. I’d reinitiated my blog and began posting each week.
I also started volunteering at a few places to experiment and help in figuring out what I wanted to do for work, and therefore study.
And this is really what I’ve been doing the past three months since returning home.
And up to quite recently, it felt like I was making progress.
I had the universities and the course decided for starting in September of 2026. And I was experimenting with voluntary work around kids and young people to guide what I would like to do after studying.
But something still felt off.
I couldn’t put it into words or point to what it was, but I felt it.
And I started to think, not in terms of what sounded cool to do or the idea of what job or work I think I’d like and enjoy and find meaningful, but what did I actually enjoy? What did I actually want to do each day with my time and energy?
And this led me to look back and think about what aspects of past work and study I really enjoyed. What elements of what I was already doing did I find a sense of purpose and passion in?
And it turns out, I was already kind of doing it.
I started to see how transformational the consistent practices of movement, meditation, reading, and writing, and the sharing through my blog were for me. How much I enjoyed these and experienced real value in them to help me learn and grow and change.
I started to see the impact they’d had over the years, and I wanted to share this with others.
I wanted to help others experience the transformation I had and I’m still going through.
I started to sense real purpose and passion and enjoyment in the things I was already doing.
And I didn’t want to do anything else simply because I thought it would be cool or fun, or because of a pressure and expectation from other people to be conventional and to conform—to study, to get a normal job.
I began to realise what I wanted was to continue my own inner work of deep questioning, learning, growing, and to share this journey with other people. To inspire them, to show the possibility and the potential for transformation, and maybe even guide and walk alongside them on the way.
Which led me to really question: Why was I going to university? Why study? And did I truly enjoy being a student?
One of the hard truths I’ve learnt over these years about asking these questions is that once I do, there’s no going back.
I cannot continue my current trajectory unless I find a good reason to.
And it’s almost that doubting allows me to grow.
Once that floor has been taken from beneath my feet, there’s only one way I’m headed.
It feels terrifying, and I sometimes wish I’d never stopped and questioned anything.
But then, with all this practice of falling, it stops feeling as bad and scary as I initially thought.
And having the floor taken from beneath my feet, feeling the sense of falling, it gives me the opportunity—and I think it allows me to learn to fly.
It’s a slightly strange analogy, I know, but I think this is what it starts to feel like for me.
After the initial shock of asking the question and being open, or opening myself to what the answer could be, is the initial shock and the sudden drop.
But once I begin to be okay with this feeling of falling, it’s like I can see more clearly and more calmly than before.
I see what’s lying beneath the surface decisions and why I’m doing what I’m doing.
In terms of university, I really had to confront the fact that I’d initially applied, and wanted to reapply, to give me a sense of purpose in the study and a sense of identity in being a student.
I see that a lot of my life has been seeking these two things, constantly seeming to elude me and causing me to try harder in finding them.
So university would give me both, at least for three years anyway, which is what I think I was really after.
It wasn’t about the learning or the skills, the independence or meeting people, although these are great aspects of university.
For me, it was about getting some kind of purpose and some kind of identity from it.
And I realise this is not what university is for, nor anything else.
I think purpose and identity can only be found within.
And well, this brings me to now.
I’m currently leaning towards not going to university, which then leaves space for... I don’t know.
If I don’t end up going to university, what will I do?
This is where I currently stand, and I’m not fully sure how to answer this.
Which in some ways is cool and exciting because it means I’m on this journey. I’m still learning and growing, and I have a long way to go.
And I see this as exciting as well as slightly terrifying.
I don’t really know what to tell people is next.
But I do know this is by no means the end.
Because well, I’m just getting started.
So that’s my story so far. The patterns, the running, the slowly learning to stop. The fear, the shame, the acceptance, the letting go.
The hamster wheel I’ve been on for most of my life, and the gradual stepping off of it.
I don’t have it all figured out. I’m still learning. Still falling. Still questioning.
But I’m here. I’m writing. I’m showing up each week.
And I’m starting to see that maybe the point isn’t to find the answers, but to be okay with the questions.