At a Crossroads: Monoliths, Anthropology, and a Quest

I see not doors but monoliths—enigmatic, like those in 2001: A Space Odyssey, calling me to evolve. Anthropology has reshaped my perspective, showing these moments as transformations, not just choices.

I find myself standing in front of what feels less like doors and more like monoliths—enigmatic, imposing, and full of potential. They remind me of the monoliths from 2001: A Space Odyssey, which I studied during a university unit on myth and ritual. The film, through its connection to Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra, symbolises the leap toward something more significant, an evolution beyond the known. It feels like a fitting metaphor for this moment in my career, where the next step isn’t just a decision but a transformation.

For decades, my career has been about reinvention, adaptability, and embracing the unknown. From early forays into digital marketing to navigating today’s AI-driven world, I’ve thrived at the intersection of creativity, strategy, and technology. But what has shaped me most profoundly in recent years is my exploration of anthropology. Studying the complexities of human behaviour, culture, and systems has fundamentally changed how I see the world and myself within it.

Anthropology has given me a new lens, helping me move beyond the static, surface-level personas of marketing to understand people as dynamic, interconnected, and constantly evolving. It’s shifted my focus to the more profound stories and rituals that drive human decision-making, enabling me to craft strategies that resonate more meaningfully. This perspective has influenced my work and broader view of what’s possible as I stand before these monoliths, contemplating the leap to something greater. At this point, they don’t feel like they are full of stars.

The stakes, however, feel immense. Starting a new business—a consultancy or agency that blends my experience in marketing, anthropology, and digital strategy—is one of the paths I’ve considered. But at this stage of life, the risks loom large. It’s not just about finances but the quality of life I’ve built and the legacy I want to leave. It’s about balancing ambition and sustainability as I get closer to retirement.

Adding to this complexity is the realisation that my network has thinned over time. Many peers have moved on, shifted careers, or embraced new lifestyles. It’s a reminder that careers, like life itself, are not static. While this has sometimes left me feeling isolated, it also represents an opportunity to rebuild connections and surround myself with people who align with where I want to go next.

In many ways, these reflections bring me back to 2001: A Space Odyssey. The monoliths in the film are symbols of transformation and evolution. They mark moments when individuals or societies must transcend their current state to reach a higher level of being. This resonates deeply as I consider my next chapter. The question isn’t just which path to choose—how to approach these monoliths with the courage to evolve into something greater.

Ultimately, this is about purpose. How do I spend the following years of my career in a way that feels meaningful and aligned with my values? How do I balance the risks of stepping into the unknown with the rewards of building something truly impactful? Anthropology has taught me that there is no single “right” answer—only the potential for growth and discovery through intentional action.

As I stand here, looking at the monoliths before me, I remind myself that transformation has always come when I’ve been willing to take the leap. Just as the monoliths in 2001 called humanity to transcend its limits, these moments in my career call me to trust in my experiences, insights, and ability to adapt. The path ahead might be uncertain, but if my journey has taught me anything, stepping forward—even into the unknown—is how we become something greater.