My year review: 2018

This was my most liked photo of 2018. An abandoned house in Burra.

This is not the blog post I had planned out in my mind. I had great intentions. I was going to make time, sit and write a meaningful and reflective post about my first year in business; what I’ve learnt and how I mean to progress in 2019. Unfortunately, it’s 5.30 (it's now 10.50) on Hogmanay, there’s a Nerf gun war happening in the living room, Aaron’s trying to make a beef wellington with a running commentary, Lena has been cooped up inside for too long and is bouncing off the walls (literally) and I’ve already poured a glass of wine. Never mind. It actually sums up this whirlwind of a year to a tee. We've never quite stopped and everything has been done at a hundred miles an hour so why change now, at the close of play on Hogmanay?

Sheep in Shetland posing for a photo

For me, 2018 has been a fantastic year, super busy and fulfilling, I’ve grabbed chances, been brave and taken risks. As a result, I’ve made several massive decisions and I’m ending the year on a high, feeling happy, positive and proud. I'm sharing here my personal highlights and important lessons learnt. It's also a chance to share my most popular photos from InstagramAn aide-memoire, for my own reference, but also, I hope, for anyone who like me, is at a crossroads and seeking inspiration.

Quiet scenes from Shetland

​I spent a lot of 2018 talking to people, gathering advice and evidence before I finally took the plunge and made the positive changes I needed to feel fulfilled in my working life again. None of these decisions were taken lightly and hopefully anyone in this position, feeling adrift will find this blog post useful. I certainly found the words of others a great help to me over the year, as I wrangled with my conscience and weighed up various options: Salary, pension, job-security, sick and holiday pay, versus: self-employment, no sick-pay, holiday pay or pension top-ups. Oh, and the lack of security that self-employment can bring. Yet the prospect of freedom and defining my own boundaries eventually proved to be too great a pull. I hope this post helps others make their own brave decisions and take the plunge – I promise, the water's great, you just need to dip in a toe to find out. ​

Bain's Beach in Lerwick. A favourite for locals and visitors alike

First third (January to April):

It was a studious start to the year, a real shock to the post-festive system. The first weekend of the new year was spent (dosed with the cold) attending a (bleary-eyed) guiding workshop. The pace never abated from then on in as I completed the final part of the green badge guide training and worked at the Shetland Museum & Archives. Much of my time during this period was spent chained to the computer, studying, or out in the wind and rain, practising my tour guide spiel.

The training culminated in three days of exams (orals, coach commentary and walking tour) at the end of April before a nervous wait to find out if I had passed – I did (obviously, or I wouldn’t be writing this blog post). We then had a two-week break in Portugal with the bairns before the tourist season kicked off and I got my first proper taste of guiding. I should also apologise to Aaron here — last Christmas he bought me thermals (my long Jane's) and I sulked. They proved invaluable as I spent hours freezing my ass off at Jarlshof in the worst that Shetland's weather has to offer in these winter months.

Standing stone in Unst, Shetland

During this time, I was quietly taking stock of what I wanted my life to look like (both at work and home). It had been a turbulent year with the threat of redundancy at work looming. Ironically, this was the best thing which could have happened to me. I began the guide training ‘in case’ I was made redundant and when I wasn’t, I began to seriously question my purpose in that role (as collections assistant to the museum curators). I had been in the same job for 11 years. Six of them were fantastic, and in that time I learnt a lot, both about our islands (which I love), and about myself. Unfortunately, there was no career progression on the horizon and I got itchy feet. The museum, in those early days, provided a positive start to my working life, a fantastic building, well worth a visit. Whilst there I grew, starting as a fresh-faced graduate I was keen and enthusiastic. Over time I learnt that the world of work is not always a happy one. That has been perhaps the most painful lesson, and one that I’m sure we all, as adults, have to experience. That said, my time there has given me a wealth of knowledge and an appreciation of our heritage and past which has paved the way for the business I’ve started and my new role. I have also met some wonderful people and made some true friends and it will always be a place I hold dear.

Westerwick, Shetland at sunset

As the first third of the year came to a close, I was already planning my next move. 2018 was set to be the busiest season Shetland had seen (to date) for cruise liner visits, and the days I was at the museum felt wasted – I was chasing the buzz of something more. I needed to feel like what I was doing mattered. My website and blog were underway and I hoped they would be an outlet, a way to share our islands with others, something my job at that time lacked.

quiet roads in Shetland's North Mainland

Second third (May to August):

This was a busy, fun time, filled with sunshine, laughter and new experiences but also a few down days, spent in the office (wishing I was on the pier, or anywhere else). I remember one of my tutors, explaining to me that when she started guiding, she hated having to go back to the day job after the buzz of showing visitors the sites, and I felt that strongly. Going to the office was like dragging my body though porridge after wearing fairy wings for a day. I would spend a day enthusing a bus load of people about Shetland and the next would be spent in stony silence in a claustrophobic office — it was definitely time for a shake-up.

Shifting light in Shetland on a stormy day

I launched this website in June — an amazing feeling — for about five minutes, till I realised it’s not quite that simple. Google wants to know that your website is performing, that your content is on point and that what you’re saying matters before they will rank your site anything above page 3,456 in their search engine — and that has been another massive learning experience of the year. Google rules the world and my website is still not ranking as high as I’d like, despite posting daily, promoting and pushing the blog. However, it’s extremely rewarding to see the natural growth and this is reflected in the weekly and monthly stats.

When I published my blog post about Geirhildr’s loch it received an incredible 61 shares which I’m extremely proud of and never imagined when I hit ‘publish’. When strangers stop you in the street to tell you that they enjoyed your blog, the sense of achievement is incomprehensible and it’s a real motivator to carry on. So, despite Google’s unfathomable algorithm, I am truly grateful to everyone who has supported this launch and my online baby – the blog.

​A busy summer and one that left me happily exhausted in the best possible way. I worked hard, played hard and got married (I wrote about that here). We went on adventures, camped, enjoyed barbecues and the bairns enjoyed the best summer holiday weather on record since the 1980s. It certainly was the summer of sun.

Hols o’Scraada, Eshaness

Final third (September to December):

As September approached, I thought (and hoped) that things would quieten down a little after the summer and that I’d enjoy some down-time to write, finish the (unfinished) website, tour plan and maybe clean the house? This didn’t happen, the tours continued through to mid-November, the enquiries came in thick and fast, the house was (and still is) dusty. I felt  as snowed under as I did in the summer.

Then in November, an opportunity to make the break came. I applied to become editor of Shetland Lifemagazine. I was offered the job and handed in my notice at the museum – closing the door on the past decade of work. 

Moving forward:

January 2019 is my first edition of Shetland Life and today (31st) I signed it off to go to print — a great feeling after all the work and planning which has gone into this, my first issue and the first of the new year. The next few months I plan to do lots of writing and organising so that in the summer I can meet and greet more visitors and hopefully enjoy another summer of sun. Another busy few months ahead.

And as we all reflect on the year which has been, these are a few of the important lessons I’ve taken away from 2018:

  1. Be true to yourself: If it doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t.

  2. Be brave: Take the plunge – you won’t regret it. This is a piece of advice I was given, and it is so true.

  3. Be bold: You’ll never know what’s out there for you if you don’t chase that dream. 

  4. Take risks: I was told recently that an employer is unlikely to hire you if you’ve been in the same job for more than five or six years (I’m just grateful my new employer didn’t do the maths) – don’t just sit and wait for life to happen. Make it happen.

  5. Google does in fact rule the world.

  6. Finally, aim high, and if you still don’t reach the stars – aim higher!

Our house at Christmas

I am extremely grateful to many people who have made 2018 a good one. As this is the last day of 2018 I’d like to thank everyone who has supported me, joined me on tour, booked for next year (and 2020), liked, shared and followed Shetland with Laurie – your support means the world. As always, I love to hear from you – send me a message and let me know what you want to find out learn more about. I have very much been guided by my followers this year, and those who have joined me on tours. 

And as for resolutions? Stop publishing blog posts after a glass of wine (or three).

Happy New Year, and lang may your lum reek!

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The winter solstice and a Neolithic temple