My resume has always been a bit of an issue for me. Long gaps in my employment history (due to travel or other developmental pursuits), along with a distinct lack of formal education, left me feeling a little ‘less than’ in this realm. Neither of these were a concern to Julia though, when she was recruiting new staff for UBC’s temp agency, Limited Time Only, in 1993. I was nervous at the interview (of course) but she was friendly, interested, and impressed with my somewhat eclectic work history. She hired me and a deep and abiding friendship began.

The following year, Julia recommended me for a temporary management position at Green College, a graduate residential facility that had intrigued me for some time. The previous incumbent had left on sick leave shortly after the college opened and there had been no one at the administrative helm for several months. Located on the north side of campus with water views, sweeping grounds, and multiple buildings that were newly constructed or recently renovated, it was love at first sight for me. I had finally met my chaos management match.

The first year was mostly hiring staff, developing systems and managing the inevitable deficiencies that come with new construction. The college’s principal, Richard Ericson, gave me free rein on the operational front and offered me the permanent position within six months of my arrival. Although I knew I wouldn’t stay long term, I accepted. I’d earned his trust, despite my lack of formal qualifications, and there was still more chaos to wrangle.

After two and a half years I felt complete. The systems were up and running and maintenance was becoming routine. For my farewell, Richard had a plaque mounted on the woodshed I’d had built. I had deemed it a necessary adjunct to the newly renovated Graham House with its multiple wood-burning fireplaces, and he’d acquiesced. UBC Ops decided it needed a concrete retaining wall so the budget skyrocketed. I was deeply touched by the inscription on the plaque, and the twinkle in Richard’s eye when he unveiled it: THE AMY PHILLIPS BUILDING. This Structure is Dedicated to the Creative Imagination and Spirit of Amy Phillips, First Bursar of Green College, 1994-1997.

Five years later I launched my company, Aim True Enterprises. I’d taken on a particularly stressful position with the Faculty of Dentistry and was walking back and forth to work, listening to Caroline Myss on my Walkman. The message that came through was loud and clear. If you are in a position where you feel you are losing power, get out or it will make you sick. I did feel like I held all the responsibility and none of the power, so I decided to make a break. I was curious to see what life would be like with more time and less money.

I was probably influenced by something my mother said long ago—that most people were too busy earning a living to actually figure out how to make money—but whatever it was that spurred me, I have grown both personally and professionally and it’s all worked out so far.

Since I first met Julia, twenty-six years ago, she has steadfastly believed in me and my capacities far beyond what I’ve been able to imagine for myself. The last few years we’ve been having the same conversation repeatedly. I lament that I haven’t found my niche. That I haven’t been able to combine my work and my life in a way that feels satisfying. Julia replies, “I see you living your life exactly how you want to. That you work to fund your development and your travel and that you take time off to integrate what you’ve learned. You are doing it.”

I have resisted Julia’s wisdom—her view of me—but a penny dropped. I’m poised yet again to make a move and the exact offering is hazy, but the threads that I’ve been working on so diligently are well established. What is required now is for me to step in and claim them as my own. Get current with myself. I’m closer than I think.

I believe we’re all closer than we think, to being the person we want to be or doing the thing that we want to do in the world. That it’s mostly just perception, and our own perception is the one that is often the most flawed.

We’ve all heard the drill: It’s the journey, not the destination. I get moments, especially when I’m in a slightly altered state, where I feel that the life I long for has already arrived and I’m living it, right here and right now. Could it be true?

In what ways are you closer than you think to living the life you dream of? Let me know, I’d love to hear!