In Short:

Many of you may not know that my first career was running a successful business in London. I earned more than most of my contemporaries, bought two beautiful houses and enjoyed a wonderful lifestyle.

Then one day I found myself sitting in Schiphol Airport after yet another delayed flight, desperately phoning around to find someone who could collect my children and stay with them overnight.

I remember thinking: what am I doing?

As I sat at Schipol, I concluded: enough is enough. I registered for an Open University psychology undergrad degree. The rest, as they say, is history.

Financially, it probably wasn’t my wisest decision. I didn’t sell my business. I simply stopped. Because I knew that otherwise I would lose two more years of my children’s young lives.

My “enough is enough” moment looked different from Scrooge’s, but we were both chasing the same illusion: that fulfilment lay in having or achieving more. The tragedy is that “more” has no natural finishing line… we each must find our own.

Ebenezer Scrooge sought comfort from the wounds of his lonely childhood through accumulating wealth. He had more money than he could ever need, yet his pursuit was relentless. The more he aquired, the lonelier and more miserable he became in the process. Hardly healing.

A Christmas Carol contrasts individualism with living relationally. Scrooge only recovers the humanity denied to him in childhood through his connection with Tiny Tim and his family. During his dark night of the soul, visited by the three ghosts, he meets himself and sees how his own choices have perpetuated his misery.

Enough is enough when the pursuit of something moves us away from what is healing to our souls. When it creates more pain than it is medicating.

It is not always the pursuit of money. It may be fitness, beauty, status, admiration or success. None of these are bad in themselves. The challenge is knowing when enough is enough.

I love my work. But even more than that, I love that I was there for my children.

Could I have given them more financially if I’d stuck with my business? Of course. I could probably have paid their university fees and helped them onto the property ladder.

But they wouldn’t have had me. And all the love and fun we had. And they’ve both developed an admirable work ethic and they know how to love.

For some of you, choosing your career may have come at the expense of family time. For others, choosing your family may have come at the expense of a fulfilling career. Both losses can be painful. None of us can have it all. Life is grounded in making difficult choices that are hopefully shaped by our values.

And as my children are now adults I am rethinking again. Our priorities are rarely fixed.

The question I find helpful to ask myself, whatever my circumstances, is this: What matters most now, and do the choices I’m making reflect that?