What Working at Woolworths Runaway Bay Has Taught Me About People, Purpose, and the Quiet Work of Life
As I get ready to finally sleep very shortly, I cannot help but reflect on today.
As I wrote about in my last blog, passing my Kings Bible College assignment and completing the draft of my new Refined by Fire Press book project, there is also something else on my mind.
What I have learned working for Woolworths at Runaway Bay.
It feels like something is closing.
Not suddenly. Not dramatically.
But quietly, steadily, like a chapter that has reached its natural end.
As I prepare to finish my final shift this Saturday, I realise I am not just leaving a job.
I am stepping out of an era.
For thirteen years, I have worked at Runaway Bay Shopping Village.
From Target, to TerryWhite Chemmart, and now finishing with Woolworths Runaway Bay.
Thirteen years of showing up.
Thirteen years of learning.
Thirteen years of being shaped in ways I did not fully understand at the time.
And as I sit here tonight, I realise something deeply important.
Working at Woolworths has taught me more about people than almost anything else in my life.
The Classroom I Never Knew I Was In
When people think about working in retail, they often think in simple terms.
Serving customers.
Stocking shelves.
Working shifts.
Clocking in and clocking out.
But what I have come to understand is that places like Woolworths are not just workplaces.
They are living environments.
They are places where life passes through constantly.
Every person who walks through those doors is carrying something.
Some are rushing.
Some are tired.
Some are distracted.
Some are present.
Some are joyful.
Some are heavy.
And when you stand behind a deli counter, or walk the aisles, or interact with customers day after day, you begin to see something that most people miss.
You begin to see patterns in people.
Not just behaviour, but humanity.
There is something about working in a place like Woolworths Runaway Bay that sharpens your awareness.
You begin to notice the small things.
The way someone speaks when they are having a good day.
The way someone avoids eye contact when something is wrong.
The way a regular customer slowly becomes familiar.
The way conversations evolve over time.
You begin to recognise faces.
Then names.
Then stories.
And before you even realise it, you are no longer just serving customers.
You are interacting with people.
Real people.
With real lives.
Real pressures.
Real struggles.
Real joys.
Working in retail, especially over many years, teaches you something that cannot be learned in theory.
It teaches you how to be present with people in ordinary moments.
There is a lie in the world that says certain work matters more than other work.
That some roles are more meaningful.
More important.
More significant.
But standing in Woolworths, day after day, I have come to see something different.
There is dignity in showing up.
There is dignity in consistency.
There is dignity in doing your job well, even when no one notices.
There is dignity in serving people in small ways.
Preparing food.
Helping someone find what they need.
Having a simple conversation.
These are not insignificant moments.
They are part of the fabric of everyday life.
And I believe deeply that God is present in these spaces.
Not just in churches.
Not just in moments that feel spiritual.
But in the quiet rhythm of work.
In the unseen.
In the repetitive.
In the ordinary.
The Team That Became More Than Just Co Workers
One of the greatest gifts of working at Woolworths Runaway Bay has been the people I have worked alongside.
The team.
Different personalities.
Different backgrounds.
Different seasons of life.
Yet somehow brought together under one roof, working toward a common purpose.
There is something unique about working shifts together.
Early mornings.
Late finishes.
Busy periods.
Quiet moments.
You see people in all states.
Tired.
Focused.
Laughing.
Stressed.
Encouraging each other.
Supporting each other.
And over time, something happens.
You build connection.
Not always deep in words, but deep in shared experience.
You begin to understand each other without needing to explain everything.
You learn patience.
You learn teamwork.
You learn how to navigate differences.
And in many ways, you grow.
What Woolworths Taught Me About People
If I had to summarise one of the biggest lessons, it would be this.
People are far more complex than they appear on the surface.
The person in front of you is never just a customer.
They are someone carrying a story you cannot see.
A history you do not know.
A weight you cannot measure.
This changes how you respond.
It teaches you:
patience instead of frustration
kindness instead of assumption
understanding instead of reaction
Working at Woolworths has taught me to slow down internally, even when everything externally is moving fast.
To not reduce people to transactions.
To not see interactions as tasks.
But to recognise the human being in front of me.
The Hidden Formation
Looking back over thirteen years across Target, TerryWhite Chemmart, and Woolworths Runaway Bay, I can now see something I could not see while I was in it.
I was being formed.
Not just professionally.
But personally.
Emotionally.
Spiritually.
In ways that were quiet, gradual, and often unnoticed.
There were days that felt repetitive.
Days that felt draining.
Days that felt ordinary.
But now I can see that those very days were shaping something inside me.
Resilience.
Consistency.
Awareness.
Humility.
The ability to keep showing up.
The ability to carry responsibility.
The ability to work within systems.
The ability to be around people without losing myself.
These are not small things.
These are foundational things.
Faith in the Middle of Work
As someone whose life is deeply rooted in faith, I have come to see that God does not separate the sacred from the everyday the way we often do.
We tend to think:
This is spiritual.
This is not.
But working at Woolworths has challenged that thinking.
Because I have experienced moments of reflection, gratitude, and awareness in the middle of a shift.
In conversations.
In silence.
In observation.
In simply being present.
I have come to believe more deeply that:
The Lord is my strength.
Not just in moments of crisis.
But in the rhythm of daily life.
In work.
In responsibility.
In showing up.
And that changes everything.
The End of an Era
As I approach my final shift this Saturday, there is a mixture of emotions.
Gratitude.
Reflection.
A sense of closure.
And also a sense of transition.
Thirteen years in one location is not something small.
It is a significant part of my life.
A chapter that has shaped who I am.
And while I am stepping forward into new things, I do not take lightly what I am stepping out of.
There is honour in finishing well.
In recognising what something has meant.
In acknowledging the people, the place, and the time.
What I Take With Me
I do not leave Woolworths empty handed.
I carry with me:
a deeper understanding of people
a greater appreciation for ordinary work
a stronger sense of discipline
a refined awareness of human interaction
memories of a team that mattered
And perhaps most importantly:
A clearer understanding that growth does not always happen in obvious places.
Sometimes it happens in supermarkets.
In aisles.
In conversations.
In routine.
In repetition.
In showing up again and again.
Looking Forward
As I step into what is next, whether that is writing, publishing through Refined by Fire Press, continuing my journey of faith, or whatever doors open ahead, I carry this season with me.
Not as something to move on from.
But as something that has become part of me.
Because every season matters.
Every place matters.
Every chapter contributes to the whole.
Final Reflection
As I sit here tonight, just before sleep, I realise something simple but powerful.
What I thought was just a job
Was actually a season of formation.
What felt ordinary
Was shaping something extraordinary beneath the surface.
And what seemed like routine…
Was quietly preparing me for what is ahead.
Woolworths Runaway Bay will always be more than just a workplace to me.
It will always be a place where I learned how to see people more clearly.
And in doing so, perhaps began to understand myself more deeply as well.
About the Author
Dylan Verdun Sullivan is the founder of Refined by Fire Press and an Australian author indexed in the National Library of Australia. As a Level 7 Local Guide with over 1.7 million views on Google Maps, he documents the intersection of faith, recovery, and the light found in ordinary places.
- Read the Memoir: Kissed by Death on Amazon
- Explore the Journey: Follow Dylan on Google Maps
- Connect on Instagram: @porkysparadise
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