what meredith taught me about work.

a (slow) starter’s guide to working differently, inspired by a blob in a jar.

Meredith lives in a jar on top of an old cupboard.
She’s a blob of sourdough starter, gently bubbling away in the kitchen.
She doesn’t know what a content calendar is.
She doesn’t care if i have posted anything on Instagram or LinkedIn this week.
She doesn’t expect anything from me other than the occasional feed and a warm corner of the room.
Honestly, she might be the best manager i have ever had.

Meredith has a thing for utilitarian household objects that are both beautiful and functional. And neutral, it would seem. Meredith, not me.

Since leaving my corporate-bunny job as an ad-agency matriarch, i have found myself slowing down. A lot.

Meredith has helped. i write, she ferments. i forget her for hours, she bubbles anyway.

The rhythm is calm and unfussy, and it’s been showing me something i didn’t realise i needed: that care doesn’t have to mean constant attention and that progress doesn’t always look productive.

When i worked in harder, faster, environments, i was conditioned to see any kin…