This time last weekend, I spent some industrious hours in my notebook, completing my annual review.
It’s a phrase I used to dread when I was employed: a looming judgement on your competence and worth, delivered from the top down. It never felt like a genuine process of reflection, and it was visibly boring to anyone who managed me. But now I have my agency back, I itch to do it. A life’s work merits a certain amount of vigilance, a commitment to getting it right. If it wasn’t so disruptive, I’d do it every month.
Because I run my own annual review, I get to look at the global picture - not just the work itself, but the ways it resonates with the rest of my life. We rarely get permission to do this in the workplace, and in fact we generally feel obliged to downplay the importance of our life outside the office in order to prove our commitment. There is no invitation to say, ‘This year, I intend to take my foot off the pedal in order to find more balance,’ however much you might need it. That’s not an evaluation; it’s a performance.
I am the sort of person who finds evaluation exciting (this is exactly why I’m not great at parties). I’m just not afraid of it in the way that others are, but that’s because I go out of my way to notice what’s going right, and I love the chance to improve what I do. For me, the process is about understanding where I am, how I feel about it, and where I want to be. It’s more about interrogating my values than hunting for failures. There’s no sense in which I’m punishing myself. Where things aren’t going well, the first thing I ask is, ‘Does this actually matter?’ Sometimes, parts of my work are shrinking for a very good reason.
In my own annual review this year, I could see that I’m entering a new phase. After a few years of feeling like everything was coming at me before I was ready, I’m now beginning to integrate the ways my life has changed. I’m stepping back into some things that I’ve been avoiding, and I’m seeing more balance (and less panicked responding). There’s room for growth, but I’m not completely sure what direction to take. I’m okay with leaving open questions, rather than trying to solve everything.
In the wake of it, I feel lighter, more ordered. I haven’t eradicated all my problems, but I can see the sources of my anxieties, frustrations and uncertainties. Most of all, I’m fired up to do the things I can do. I’m the same imperfect person I always was, but with a bit more of a plan.
So today, I’m going to share the questions that I use in my own review, and invite you to spend some time reflecting on the past year, and imagining the next phase. The most important thing here is to stay rooted in reality, rather than a fantasy version of yourself. This all collapses if you try to pack too much in. Work out what matters the most, and leave plenty of space around it. Personal sustainability should ever be your watchword.
This one’s a bit of a monster…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The Clearing by Katherine May to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.