JavaScript is disabled

For full functionality of this site it is necessary to enable JavaScript in your web browser. Click the button below for instructions on how to enable JavaScript, then refresh the page.

Instructions

Your browser is unsupported

You'll need to upgrade to a modern web browser to access this site. Click below to see some options.

View Browsers

How I Took The Leap #2: Jon Batt

If you’re going to jump out of permanent employment, I reckon there’s just one moment where, all of a sudden, you know. You’re doing it. This is the story of when I had my moment.

 

In the summer of 2012, I had just started my tenth year in the public sector. I was 29 years old, in a well-paid and stable job, and I was bored shitless. I read a quote recently which is the most accurate summation of my state at that time:

If you have a creative mind, it’s a little bit like owning a border collie. You have to give it something to do, or it will find something to do. You won’t like the thing it finds to do.

I was creating havoc for others around me: roaming into senior managers offices to let them know the ‘great’ ideas I’d had, tormenting co-workers, and generally being a nuisance.

As we went into the Christmas break, I had a looming feeling that something had to change. My wife and I found out she was pregnant with our first child and we were planning out what life would be like as parents (spoiler: this is a totally pointless exercise – babies do whatever they want).

We went camping over the break and I read a book by Ken Robinson called The Element. This is generally not the sort of thing I’m into, but he has a TED talk that I really like and so I thought I’d give it a go. This book is amazing. It tells stories of people who realised they were doing the wrong thing and how their lives changed when they started doing the right thing. I read it and then I just knew. That was it. I had so much in common with the people that the book described in their ‘before’ stories.

I wanted to be like them in their ‘after’ stories.

First day back at work I handed in my notice. I didn’t have anything to go to, I didn’t have a particularly clear plan. To balance against the risk of being without an income, but with a pregnant wife and a mortgage, I gave six weeks notice. I spent those six weeks having more coffees than I’ve had before or since. I met everyone. I explained what I had done, what I wanted to do, and when I was available to do it. I told the same story over and over and over and over.

And one meeting changed everything. I still remember it, where I was, what the weather was like (it was sunny). From that meeting, I stepped into a contract for six months. It wound up lasting three years and gave me the stability and flexibility to pursue other clients while I worked.

I’ve never looked back. In the six years since that meeting I’ve contributed to a dozen different organisations, invested in three start-ups, started two more businesses of my own, employed staff, and helped people deliver some really fantastic stuff. The opportunities I’ve had because I’ve made myself available are amazing - unlike anything I could have done from the cloister of permanent employment.

I was pretty lucky that it all worked out and I can’t discount that. If you don’t make the leap, you’ll never know if you’re lucky or not.


DISCLAIMER: The information on our website is for general educational purposes only. It doesn't cover all situations and circumstances, and shouldn't be taken as direct tax advice. If you're looking for specific help with your taxes, join Hnry and our team of experts can provide you with assistance tailored to your business needs.

Share on: