When I lost my job in corporate comms, I thought of it as a short break. This was a pause, not a pivot, I told myself.

Two years on, I am glad I got that wrong, but I do wish I had figured it out a bit sooner.

After getting over the shock of being retrenched from a job I thought was secure, I imagined I would be back in the game soon.

I brushed aside the shame of being selected to be ejected, and focused on finding a similar job with comparable pay and perks.

I couldn’t accept that something more fundamental had shifted. The job market had changed since I was last in it. I was no longer the bankable, in-demand resource I was 10 years before.

There’s a queue of younger, shinier models ahead of me, and we all know how novelty and youth are often valued over wisdom and experience.

Plus, I had changed. The older you get, the less willing you are to put up with office politics and the prioritisation of things that are less important than family, life, and mental health. How was I going to get excited about it all over again?

So I lived and spent money like someone on sabbatical, licking my wounds. Soon enough, I had to stop pretending. It was then that I realised I was working with a whole new balance sheet.

I had gained far more, in time, peace of mind, and sanity, than I had lost in earnings and a false sense of security.

I lead a different life now. While it has been a struggle at times, there’s a lot to be said for all I have gained.

But if I could do it again, I would have handled it differently. I would have acknowledged the new balance sheet from Day One.

I would have accepted that my financial reality was just that, my reality. I would have cut back my spending. No dinners or drinks out. No casual clicks on online shopping deals. I would have locked away the credit card.

I would have lived more like someone who is unemployed, which means not being busy from dawn to dusk, chained to a laptop. Too much busyness with little-to-no productivity is soul-destroying.

I would have scheduled time for job-hunting, sending emails, pitching for work, blogging, and updating LinkedIn.

I would have made a proper effort to cut myself some slack and to enjoy the time I had. On the occasions when I did – going for a swim in the sea in the middle of the day, taking the dogs out at 3pm, doing a yoga class at 11am – I felt genuinely free.

When you are no longer being paid for your time, you’re finally free to use it. But we don’t. We panic. We fill it with laptop noise and anxiety. At least, that is what I did.

Life beyond the paycheque is a new life, even if it is not the one you wished for. I’ve learned to work with what I have, not what I had, or what I’m hoping to have again in the future.

I’ve set time aside to find new work, yes. But I’ve also carved out time to enjoy the things that my old schedule and a regular paycheque didn’t allow for.

This is a different discipline, but it’s still a discipline. I’ve got a new kind of balance sheet now, one that includes peace, time, joy, and quiet. It may not last for long; it may last forever.

For now, I’m embracing it. I’m once again so busy, that I’m wishing I had used my quiet time better.

• I’ve written an e-book on surviving retrenchment, based on what I’ve learned. You can download it for free over here: https://calloffthesearch.substack.com/p/surviving-retrenchment.