Faye McDonough

As you might remember, I started this year determined to look back, but not look forward – not just yet anyway. Whilst I didn’t plan any crazy goals for 2026, two words kept popping up for me; creativity and connection. As themes for my year, as concepts I’m exploring, and as respite from the news. 

They were coming up in the books I was reading, the music I was listening to, often in the dharma talks at the start of my yoga classes and surprisingly frequently at work. 

I took that as a sign, challenging myself to ponder them slowly and deeply.  Last month I wrote about creativity so this month it is connection’s turn. What I’ve realised is that they have more in common than you’d think. 

Creativity and connection ask the same thing of you. 

Creativity requires you to show up as yourself – imperfectly, vulnerably, in progress – and that’s exactly what real connection requires too. 

Two of my literary and musical influences of the year so far have carried these themes in their work. 

I was introduced to Kae Tempest through two of my favourite yoga teachers, who often choose to read his work or play his songs in our closing relaxations. His work strongly points toward connecting with others and creativity to counter alienation, specifically his book, On Connection, which I’m slowly working my way through, taking my time because a) it is wonderful and b) I almost don’t want to finish it. Kae’s whole argument is that we are desperate to connect and that true open-hearted connection is what’s needed to counter individualism and consumerism. 

Kate Bush has been on constant rotation too – “Hounds of Love” so often my soundtrack to evening chores or a solo drive, weaves creativity and connection together beautifully, even if you don’t see it at first. Using the metaphor of being chased by a pack of hounds to represent the fear of falling in love took some time to work out but when I did, wow! I lost myself in her music in the midst of early motherhood when her abstract stories of parenthood made me feel less alone, even if I had to work my way through characters and masks to find the connection. 

So it seems that creativity is a route to connection. Creative pursuits connect us to other people, to past versions of ourselves, and to something bigger than the day job. 

I’ve been thinking about where that plays out in practice. In the real world and in our careers. This is what that looks like for me.

Sharing my creativity brought me greater connection

Performance-based connection – showing up as your most polished professional self – makes loneliness worse, not better. I’ve written about this before. Real connection requires you to drop the presentation.

When I shared my own creative story with work friends last month, I was really surprised by the response. I found out about weekend crafting and collage, a passion for garden design, band practice and piano lessons, songwriting and impromptu raps – and also the real tension between being a creative person and our careers, particularly for those of us in finance. Conversations and relationships that had been perfectly pleasant suddenly had texture and warmth.

Interestingly, most of the people who shared their creative lives were from the social finance world which made me feel like I’ve landed in exactly the right place. 

When I mentioned I’m working up the courage to play live again, they immediately started thinking up ways to make it happen. A Women in Social Finance salon or a special feature at the WISF retreat. Could I bring my guitar to garden or house parties?

Terrifying, obviously! And exciting. But it also proves something: playing live is a connection story too. It’s not just a creative act.

Performing for an audience – however small – is an act of offering something of yourself and hoping it lands. It felt the same when I played a song I’m working on to my best friend – she used it as an opportunity to make a joke, quipping that as a guitar player and someone that can do a mean reverse park, I’m an absolute dream! It was funny, yes. But it also brought us closer together. And maybe that’s as close to pure connection as I know how to get?

Your reflection: Is there a creative part of your life you’ve kept separate from your professional self? What might happen if you let them meet?

Connecting to past versions of ourselves

I’ve been thinking about home for a while too. The words creativity and connection kept floating around, and with them came a third: home.

At the end of March I visited the Museum of the Home with old friends and new. It’s unlike any museum I’ve been to – genuinely dedicated to exploring what home means, in all its forms. There was a recreation of an early 2000s flat that could have been my student digs.

Spending an afternoon thinking about home with people I’ve known for a while and people I’m only just getting to know felt significant. Connection and home arrived in the same afternoon, before I’d consciously linked the two ideas.

A few days later, I went back to Manchester.

I’ve been reading John Cooper Clarke’s memoir, I Wanna Be Yours. His writing is so rooted in a specific geography, and in a specifically Mancunian music and arts culture, that reading it made me feel the pull of my home town. The book didn’t just remind me of home. It made me need to go back, and soon! 

Manchester holds three versions of me. Childhood me, visiting the Museum of Science and Industry for what felt like the millionth time. Adult me, living ‘The Life’ in the city centre. And Faye on the cusp of getting married – we moved to Cambridge not long after our wedding, and going back made me realise how significant that chapter was.

What moved me most was watching my kids encounter those versions of me. They loved the stories – where me and my husband met (we still disagree on the exact location, the restaurant we worked at long since gone), where we got married, where we held the reception. My older son was particularly taken with the gentler details, like where I used to get my hair cut, my old office, tales of nights out…. Both of them want to go back. I think they want to experience us there again – as Mark and Faye rather than Mum and Dad.

Those past selves didn’t feel distant. It was more like rediscovering something I’d forgotten I knew.

A good friend asked me afterwards whether it had been good for the soul. It absolutely had. Sometimes you need to reconnect with who you’ve been before so that you can properly connect with who you are now.

Your reflection: Which past version of yourself have you lost touch with? Is there somewhere, or something, that could help you find them again?

Something bigger than the day job

Work is where many of us find our deepest sense of connection – to other people, to a sense of purpose, to something that feels bigger than the daily to-do list.

I talk a lot about purpose. Using my finance skills for good. But I’ve started to think that purpose might actually be a form of connection – a greater connection to the people whose lives my work and the investments we make will influence. 

Maybe it’s not just a mission? Maybe it’s a relationship, even with people you haven’t met yet? We’ve been drawing out examples of lives we want to change and nothing has made me prouder of the work we’re doing. 

And alongside purpose, there’s joy. When the work is ambitious, complex, and hard, it’s easy to stay at the level of strategy and forget to notice where the joy actually lives.

As an action from a reflective leadership group I’ve created, I’ve been keeping a joy list. Or a ‘what’s making me happy at work’ list if you like! 

I was surprised by the act of doing this. It was easy, the joy flowed and the list was long. 

Here are a couple of examples: 

I realised that I love sharing what I’ve learned with others but there’s something more too. I realised mid-conversation how indebted I am to two people in the world of charity finance who have shaped how I think about financial resilience and investment in charities. The gratitude was unexpected and caught me off guard. Big smile on my face even just as I write that now. 

The second is more mundane. Enjoying the process of creating organisational structure. The joy I felt at building a Board and Governance Portal might have gone unnoticed but for my list. But I love finding everything I need in exactly the right place. It sounds small but that kind of satisfaction – the pleasure of craft, of something working – is its own form of connection to your work. I love knowing where everything is. Neat and tidy! Plus it makes my life easier.

Just the act of writing the list made me realise how much joy there really is at work, especially when you’re paying attention.

Your reflection: If you kept a joy list for one week, what do you think would surprise you most?

One more thing

And I suppose that’s also what I’m doing here. Every time I publish, I’m making a creative act and a connection bid at the same time.

If this article has landed with you, I’d love to know:

• where in your own life are creativity and connection already closer than you thought?
• Is there a past version of yourself you’ve been meaning to revisit?
• And where, if you paid attention, would your own joy list surprise you?

A friend pointed out that this website isn’t the easiest place to reach me – you can always email me at hello@fayemcdonough.com. I read every message and I’ll always reply. Thanks for reading as always.