The past is a room we can no longer enter, a city we can no longer visit.
Some friends complain of glass and concrete ceilings. Some friends have smashed through them, now senior managing partners, directors, CEOs, influential academics and diplomats.
I hit my own glass ceiling years ago: self-confidence. Or rather the lack of it.
In my career, I have been following the trajectory of those that left school with no qualifications.
I have never been able to peer beyond the walls of the restrictive box imposed by my mental state.
I have been left far behind by my peers, who in their mid-40s are now leaders in their fields.
Me? I am the master of the metaphoric vegetable plot. I bring just enough home to subsist on, but we live a humble life.
That room I can no longer enter had a glass ceiling of my own design. Tomorrow I will enter a new room.
Who knows what the future has in store?
Last modified: 23 October 2021
