I’ve recently joined the local cricket team. For context, I’ve not played cricket for over 20 years. And even when I did, it was part of PE at school.

There’s a funny story in this, of course. On my first night of practice a couple months ago, having not thrown a ball properly in over 15 years, I turned up thinking there might be a ladies’ group. There was not. Instead, I found myself practising with the guys. And I was the only female.

The first exercise? Line up and throw a ball at the bowler.

Oh. My. Word.

I cannot fully explain the fear that moved through my body in that moment. I could feel every part of me wanting to disappear, laugh it off, pretend I had made a mistake, or suddenly remember an urgent appointment elsewhere.

But I stayed. And I threw the ball. Was it perfect? Absolutely not. Did I feel like I knew what I was doing? Also no. But I did it. And since then, I’ve played two games. Again, not perfectly. But with effort, nerves, laughter, mistakes, and a strange amount of pride. Bloody proud, actually.

And it has got me thinking. Because in most areas of my life, I am used to leading. I am used to holding spaces, organising things, supporting others, making decisions, carrying responsibility, and thinking about what everyone else might need.

But here, I am not the leader. I am learning. I am listening. I am being shown what to do. I am being encouraged. I am being corrected. I am being supported. I am letting myself be a beginner. And honestly? It feels so good. Not easy. But good.

Because there is something deeply humbling, and actually quite freeing, about stepping into a space where you are not expected to know. Where you do not have to have the answer. Where your job is not to hold everything together, but simply to show up, try, and learn.

Cricket is teaching me more than cricket. And I want to share a few of those lessons with you.

Discomfort: relearning what comfort really means

We often talk about stepping out of our comfort zone, but I think we sometimes misunderstand what comfort actually is.

Sometimes we are comfortable in stress. Sometimes we are comfortable being the one who carries everything. Sometimes we are comfortable being over-responsible, over-prepared, or constantly needed.

Stress does not always mean we are outside our comfort zone. Sometimes stress is the comfort zone. Sometimes the real discomfort is being seen learning something new. Being clumsy. Being corrected. Not being impressive. Not being the expert. Not being the one with the plan.

That is a very different kind of stretch.

Confidence: something alive that needs to be fed

I think confidence can get a bit stale when we only stay in spaces where we already know who we are. We can become confident in our roles, our routines, our expertise, and our familiar ways of doing things. And then something new comes along, and suddenly we remember that confidence is not fixed.

It is alive. It needs challenged. It needs moved around. It needs rebuilt in different places.

Joining a cricket team has reminded me that confidence does not usually arrive before the thing. It almost always comes later. Often, confidence grows because you did the thing while feeling nervous, awkward, and unsure.

Humility: remembering what it feels like to be the learner

This matters. Especially for leaders. Because if we are always in charge, always holding the room, always guiding others, we can forget what it feels like to be the person standing at the edge, wondering, “Am I doing this right?”

And that remembering is powerful. It makes us softer. It makes us more patient. It makes us better at supporting others who are trying, learning, growing, or stepping into something unfamiliar.

There is nothing quite like making a very visible mistake in front of other people to bring you back down to earth.

…Being called out.

…Being corrected.

…Being told where to stand.

…Missing the ball.

…Throwing badly.

…Getting the rules wrong.

…And surviving it.

Because that is the thing, we survive being beginners. We survive not being perfect. We survive making mistakes in front of people.

And sometimes, when the people around us are kind enough, we do more than survive it. We grow from it.

Which brings me to something else I have been thinking about.

Female support: being backed and backing each other

I cannot emphasise enough how good it has felt to be encouraged by other women. To be welcomed. To be told, “You’re doing fine.” To see other women playing, trying, learning, laughing, and backing each other.

There is something really powerful about women supporting women in spaces where confidence can feel fragile.

Not in a polished, performative way. In a very real way. The “come on, you’ve got this” way. The “don’t worry, we’ve all done that” way. The “keep going” way.

We need more of that. In sport, in business, in leadership, in community work, in life. Because support does not remove the challenge. It helps us stay in it long enough to grow.

Being led: why leaders need spaces where they are not in charge

And I think this is the bigger lesson for me.

Leaders need spaces where they are not in charge. I cannot emphasise this enough.

We need places where we can put down the responsibility of leading, holding, fixing, shaping, and managing. We need places where we are allowed to be taught. Where someone else sets the pace. Where someone else explains the rules. Where we can ask the obvious question. Where we can laugh at ourselves. Where we can be new.

Because being led reminds us what it feels like to trust. It reminds us what it feels like to receive. It reminds us that our worth is not only in what we produce, organise, lead, or achieve.

Sometimes growth does not come from taking on more responsibility. Sometimes it comes from letting go of control. Sometimes it comes from standing in a field, slightly terrified, throwing a cricket ball for the first time in 15 years, and realising that being a beginner might be exactly what your nervous system, confidence, and leadership needed.

So here’s my question:

When was the last time you let yourself be a beginner?

We talk a lot about dreaming big. In business. In leadership. In community work. In personal growth. But I don’t think dreaming big should mean endlessly scaling, striving, achieving, and squeezing more out of ourselves.

That version of dreaming big can start to feel a lot like pressure wearing a motivational quote. For me, dreaming big is different. It is about believing more is possible. It is about living closer to our potential. It is about being challenged, growing, experimenting, and asking awkward but necessary questions like “why are we doing it this way?”.

So much of what exists in the world started as a slightly ridiculous idea spoken out loud in an ordinary moment.

…A conversation over coffee.
 …A passing comment in a workshop.
 …A wild “what if?” said before it made sense.
 …A dream that, at first, sounded far too big for the room it was spoken in.

That is often how possibility begins. Not in perfect strategy documents or polished plans, but in messy, human spaces where people feel safe enough to wonder. Where ideas are allowed to be played with before they are judged. Where imagination gets to stretch before reality starts measuring it.

It sounds exciting, doesn’t it? And it is.

But there is another side to dreaming big that we do not talk about enough. Big dreams can be energising, but they can also be overwhelming. Sometimes possibility opens people up. Other times, it makes them shut down.

When we ask people to imagine the future, we are not just asking them to be creative. We are asking them to step beyond what they know. We are asking them to loosen their grip on certainty. We are asking them to move into a space where there are no guarantees.

And that can feel vulnerable. Because dreaming big often brings questions with it.

…What if we fail?
 …What if we do not have enough money?
 …What if people judge us?
 …What if we are not ready?
 …What if it gets too complicated?
 …What if I say something silly?
 …What if I hope for something and it does not happen?

This is why dreaming big is not just about ambition. It is about safety. People need to feel safe enough to imagine. That might sound simple, but it changes everything.

Because if we rush too quickly into big visioning without creating the right conditions, people can become overwhelmed. They may go quiet. They may become practical too quickly. They may point out all the risks before the idea has even had a chance to breathe.

And often, this is not because people are negative. It is because their nervous system is doing exactly what it is designed to do: looking for safety, predictability and control. So maybe the real work is not just asking people to dream bigger. Maybe the real work is helping people feel grounded enough to dream at all.

Stepping Into the Future

One way I have been exploring this is through the idea of “stepping into the future.”

Rather than asking people to sit in the present and think about what might happen one day, there is something powerful about creating an experience where people are invited to imagine they are already there. It can be playful. It can be symbolic. It can be creative.

You might ask:

…What year are we stepping into?
 …What has changed?
 …What are we proud of?
 …What did we have to let go of?
 …What became possible because we were brave enough to begin?
 …What would future-us thank present-us for doing?

This shifts the energy. Instead of planning from fear, people begin imagining from possibility. Instead of asking, “Can we do this?” they begin asking, “What would need to be true for this to happen?”.

That is a very different question. And it is an important one. Because “Can we do this?” often invites immediate limitation.

…We do not have enough time.
 …We do not have enough money.
 …We do not have the right people.
 …We have tried before.
 …It will be too hard.

But “What would need to be true?” creates movement. It shifts from a yes/no answer to an open answer. It invites curiosity. It opens doors. It helps people move from shutdown into problem-solving.

It does not ignore reality. It simply refuses to let reality be the only voice in the room.

The Balance Between Vision and Grounding

Dreaming big without grounding can become chaos. Grounding without dreaming can become stagnation and frustration. We need both.

We need spaces where people can imagine boldly, but also come back to what is practical and feel safe to explore. We need to let ideas stretch before we shrink them into plans. We need to create room for play, possibility and wild thinking, while also asking the careful questions that make things sustainable.

The mistake we often make is jumping too quickly to the “how”. I know, I still do this, and have to check in with myself when that action orientated feeling kicks in first. It’s not wrong, it’s just finding the balance.

Someone shares an idea and immediately the room fills with:

…How would we pay for that?
 …Who would manage it?
 …What about the risks?
 …Do we have capacity?

These are important questions. But timing matters. If we bring them in too early, they can crush the energy of possibility before it has even formed. A big idea needs a moment to live before it is analysed.

It needs space to be explored, shaped, questioned and strengthened. Not dismissed immediately because it is not yet practical.

This is where creativity is so useful. Creative processes give people a different way in. They help us bypass the pressure to be right, polished or strategic straight away.

Drawing, movement, objects, storytelling, metaphor, role play, future-mapping, visual prompts — these things may seem simple, even playful, but they can unlock a different kind of thinking. And often, that is where the deeper truth appears.

Not Every Dream Needs to Become a Plan

Another thing I have learned is that not every dream has to happen. That does not make it pointless.

Some ideas are not meant to become projects. Some are there to reveal a desire, a frustration, a need, or a value.

…An idea about opening a space might actually be about belonging.
 …An idea about starting a programme might actually be about confidence.
 …An idea about creating something public might actually be about visibility.
 …An idea about changing a system might actually be about dignity.

When we listen beneath the idea, we often find the real gold. This takes pressure off the process.

Dreaming big does not mean promising everything. It does not mean every idea must become reality. It means creating space for imagination, then carefully discerning what wants to grow, what needs more time, and what is simply telling us something important.

That distinction matters.

Because people can lose trust if they are asked for ideas but never see anything happen. But they can also feel overwhelmed if every idea is treated as an immediate action point.

The balance is in being honest.

We can say:

…This is a brilliant idea.
 …This might not happen right away.
 …This tells us something important.
 …This needs more thought.
 …This could become part of something bigger.
 …This is not possible just now, but let’s not lose the heart of it.

That kind of honesty allows dreaming to stay alive without becoming performative.

Making Big Thinking Feel Safer

If we want people to dream big, whether in organisations, communities, businesses or our own lives, we need to think about the conditions we are creating.

…Are people being given permission to be playful?
 …Are quieter voices being supported?
 …Is there enough structure to reduce overwhelm?
 …Are we separating imagination from immediate decision-making?
 …Are we making space for fear as well as excitement?
 …Are we helping people move from big ideas into small next steps?

Because the goal is not just to generate ideas. The goal is to build a relationship with possibility. A relationship where people can stretch without snapping. Imagine without spiralling. Hope without feeling foolish. Contribute without needing to have the perfect answer.

That is the sweet spot.

Big enough to inspire. Grounded enough to feel possible. Safe enough for people to take part.

The First Step Into the Future

When I think about dreaming big now, I do not think of it as a single visioning exercise or an ambitious plan. I think of it as a practice.

…A practice of making room for what does not yet exist.

…A practice of listening to the ideas that arrive in ordinary moments.

…A practice of noticing when fear enters the room, and not letting it take over.

…A practice of asking better questions.

Not just, “What is realistic?” But also:

…What is needed?
 …What is possible?
 …What are we longing for?
 …What are we afraid to say out loud?
 …What future are we already quietly building?

And perhaps most importantly: What is one small step we can take now that moves us closer to the future we want?

Because dreaming big does not mean abandoning the present. It means standing in the present with enough courage to imagine beyond it. Then taking one grounded, honest, human step forward.

We’re in a strange flux in the world. Resources are tighter. Funding is harder. More organisations are competing for the same pots, often because other forms of support have been cut.

And yet… there are more ideas than ever. More energy. More possibility. More people trying to do something meaningful.

So how do we navigate that tension?

For me, the answer has increasingly become: partnership. Not in a buzzword sense. Not in a “we should collaborate more” kind of way. But in a very real, sometimes messy, often confronting way of working. Confronting in the sense that we really have to think about our own way of working. And that’s hard.

Seeing the system, not just yourself

One of the biggest shifts in my thinking has been this: instead of asking, “What do I want to build?”, I’ve started asking, “Where am I in the wider ecosystem?”.

I won’t lie, this has been hard. It’s meant really challenging my own thinking. Letting go of old assumptions. Admitting I don’t always get it right. And after many years of running businesses, I’m still learning. And may the learning never stop.

My understanding of partnership has changed a lot. I used to think partnership meant formal agreements. Everything equal. Clear, balanced, structured. And if I’m honest, I avoided it at times, because I worried I didn’t have enough to bring to make things “equal”.

But I’ve realised something much simpler: partnership is just working with others. In whatever form that takes. I had overcomplicated it in my own head. And I have a feeling I’m not the only one.

Working with others starts with better questions:

• Who comes before me in the journey?
• Who comes after?
• Where are the gaps?
• Who could I work with, instead of working around?

Because the truth is, none of us operate in isolation. There is always something before us, and something after us. Whether that’s in a customer journey, a supply chain, or the wider system we exist within. We rely on others. We buy from others. We build alongside others. We live in a system built on interconnectedness. We just don’t always behave like we do (I say that with full honesty. I’ve forgotten this myself, more than once).

As entrepreneurs, we’re wired to spot problems and create solutions. New ideas. New projects. New organisations. Fuelled by passion. And don’t get me wrong, that passion is powerful. But it can also be blinding.

We can become so focused on solving something that we don’t fully understand the landscape we’re stepping into (Also… has anyone actually trained their brain not to come up with a solution for everything? Because I haven’t).

Partnership, real partnership, interrupts that instinct. It asks us to pause. To zoom out. To notice what already exists.

And then to ask: how can I build with, not just build for?

Why partnership matters (beyond the obvious)

We all know the practical benefits:

• Shared resources
• Access to networks we wouldn’t reach alone
• Distributed responsibility
• Learning from different perspectives

But there’s something deeper going on. Rosabeth Moss Kanter calls this “collaborative advantage”, the idea that partnerships, when done well, don’t just add value, they create something that wouldn’t exist otherwise.

And in social impact spaces, this has been expanded through the idea of collective impact (Kania & Kramer), where organisations align around shared goals, measurement, and action.

In theory, it sounds simple. In practice… it rarely is. Because partnership isn’t just about structure. It’s about people.

The Structural: structures that hold partnerships

Let’s start with the practical side, the part we think is simple but actually needs a bit more attention.

From experience (and a few hard lessons), there are some non-negotiables when forming a partnership.

At the very least, you need clarity on:

• Aims and goals (what are we actually trying to do, and by when?)
• Roles and responsibilities (who is doing what, and who isn’t?)
• Decision-making (how are decisions made, and by whom?)
• Communication rhythms (how often do we check in, and how?)
• Costs and payments (this one matters more than people admit)
• Resource sharing (time, space, people, assets)
• Conflict approach (what happens when things don’t go smoothly?)

This doesn’t need to be complicated. Sometimes it’s a simple one-page agreement. Sometimes it’s a formal contract or consortium agreement. The level of formality should match the level of risk, money, and complexity.

But skipping this step? That’s where things start to unravel.

Types of partnership structures (in simple terms)

Not all partnerships are the same. Some common types include:

• Informal collaborations — short-term, low-risk, often based on trust and shared interest
• MOUs (Memorandums of Understanding) — outline intent and expectations, but aren’t legally binding
• Service agreements — one partner delivers something for another (clearer boundaries)
• Consortiums — multiple organisations working together on a shared project (common in funding)
• Joint ventures — partners share risk, investment, and returns
• New entities — creating something entirely new together

There’s no “right” structure. But there is a right level of clarity for the situation you’re in.

The Relational: the human reality underneath

Here’s the part we don’t talk about enough. Even with the best structure in the world…partnerships are emotional.

People bring:

• different working styles
• different expectations
• different levels of capacity
• different relationships to power, control, and risk

And often, these aren’t spoken about at the start. So they show up later. As tension. As frustration. As silence.

Glasby and Dickinson, in their work on partnership in health and social care, are very clear about this: Partnership working is often idealised, but in reality, it is complex, messy, and shaped by human behaviour as much as structure.

Exactly that.

Where things get difficult (and real)

In my experience, partnerships tend to hit pressure points around:

• Power dynamics — who really holds influence?
• Communication styles — direct vs indirect, structured vs fluid
• Pace — one person moving quickly, another needing more time
• Control vs collaboration
• Individual vs collective success
• Unspoken expectations

And then there’s the emotional layer:

• frustration when things don’t move
• anxiety about responsibility
• resentment when contributions feel unequal
• avoidance of difficult conversations

This is where most partnerships quietly struggle. Not because the idea is wrong, but because the relational work isn’t being done.

What the research says about this “in-between” space

This is where psychology and leadership research becomes really useful, and I feel should be the foundation of building partnerships.

• Amy Edmondson (Psychological Safety): People need to feel safe to speak honestly, admit mistakes, and challenge ideas
• Brené Brown (Dare to Lead): Vulnerability isn’t weakness, it’s the foundation of trust
• Crucial Conversations (Patterson et al.): High-stakes conversations require skill, not avoidance
• Kegan & Lahey (Immunity to Change): We often resist the very alignment we say we want
• Barry Johnson (Polarity Management): Many tensions aren’t problems to solve, but balances to manage

The more I explore this, the more I realise that this “in-between” space isn’t soft or secondary, it’s where the real work of partnership happens.

The Intersection: where structure meets humanity

This is the part I’m most interested in. Because partnerships don’t fail purely due to poor structure. And they don’t fail purely due to difficult personalities.

They fail in the interaction between the two.

• When structure is unclear, trust erodes
• When emotions are ignored, decisions become reactive
• When misalignment isn’t named, it shows up in delivery

This is the real work of partnership. Not just setting it up. But holding it, together.

Difficult conversations (the turning point)

At some point, every partnership will face a moment where something needs to be said. This is usually where things either deepen or quietly begin to break down.

Avoiding these conversations doesn’t keep things smooth. It just delays the tension.

From experience, the most helpful shifts are:

• naming what’s actually happening (not just what’s easy to say)
• separating intent from impact
• staying curious instead of defensive
• focusing on the shared purpose

This is where psychological safety becomes real, not theoretical.

Repair, endings, and evolution

Two things we often avoid thinking about: what happens when things go wrong, and how things end. But partnerships aren’t static. They evolve. They shift. Sometimes they come to a natural close.

Systems thinkers like Margaret Wheatley and Fritjof Capra remind us that relationships are part of living systems, not fixed structures. And Nora Bateson’s concept of “warm data” highlights something important: context, relationships, and human nuance matter just as much as metrics.

So when things rupture (and they will), the question isn’t: “How do we avoid this?”. It’s: “How do we repair well?”.

Because how you end a partnership matters. You never know when your paths will cross again.

So what actually matters? (6 grounded principles)

Across both research and lived experience, a few things consistently show up:

1. Clarity creates safety: Clear expectations, roles, and agreements reduce confusion and prevent unnecessary tension.

2. Trust is built through honesty, not perfection: People don’t trust you because everything is smooth, they trust you because you’re real.

3. Check-ins are not optional: With yourself. With each other. Regularly. Before things build up.

4. Tension is part of the process: Differences aren’t a problem, avoiding them is.

5. Structure should support relationships, not control them: Too rigid, and you lose flexibility. Too loose, and things drift.

6. Partnership is a practice, not a one-off decision: It requires ongoing attention, reflection, and adjustment.

Final thought

Maybe the most important shift isn’t learning how to “do partnerships better”, but realising that we are already in partnership, all the time. In every interaction. Every handover. Every shared space. Every decision that affects someone else.

The question is whether we do it consciously. Whether we take the time to understand the system we’re part of. Whether we bring both the structural and the relational into how we work. Whether we choose to build with awareness, not just intention. Because when we start to see it that way, partnership stops being something we occasionally step into… and becomes how we work.

An Exploration of Being Human

Being human is harder than we often admit. Not in a dramatic, something-is-wrong-with-me way. Just in a realistic way.

We live inside complex systems…social, economic, cultural, technological. And at the same time, we live inside ourselves…our identities, histories, nervous systems, beliefs, and needs.

That’s a lot to hold. And it’s normal.

For a long time, I believed we were supposed to have clarity. Conclusions. Answers. That if we just thought hard enough, reflected deeply enough, or worked on ourselves long enough, things would settle. I don’t think that way anymore.

I’ve come to realise (and accept) that the work isn’t about certainty at all. I believe it’s about balance (Maybe I have been watching Star Wars too much!). It’s about staying human inside complexity.

So what is this complexity I keep talking about? Let’s start there.

A fundamental complexity: body, mind, soul

It helps to begin with one of the most fundamental, and underestimated, systems we live inside: the relationship between body, mind, and soul.

We move through the world in bodies that evolved for survival, not for the pace, scale, and emotional load of modern life. Our nervous systems scan for threat long before they scan for meaning. Stress responses activate faster than reason ever could.

Then there’s the mind.

We live inside minds that tell stories constantly. Filling gaps, predicting outcomes, replaying moments, judging ourselves, clinging to certainty when things feel unclear. We like to believe we’re rational, but much of what drives us happens beneath awareness, shaped by habit, fear, and past experience. The human mind isn’t as rational as we like to think.

And then there’s what we often call the soul.

Hard to define. Easy, and sometimes frightening, to feel. Something linked to meaning, values, aliveness, and purpose. Something explored for centuries across philosophy, psychology, and science. Many of us orient our lives around it, whether we name it or not.

This shows up everywhere, including in work and leadership. What is the purpose of this organisation? What is the purpose of my role? What am I actually here for?

So when you mix body, mind, and soul, and then place them inside fast-moving systems, it’s no wonder we feel overwhelmed!

In simple terms

Our bodies and brains were built to keep us alive. Not to help us thrive. Not to help us feel fulfilled. Not to help us navigate complex emotional or moral landscapes.

Their primary job is survival. They alert us to danger. They scan for threat. They pull us toward what feels familiar and away from what feels uncertain. And they do this even when an experience feels hard but would actually be better for us in the long term.

This has been a big realisation for me. Not just intellectually, but experientially.

When I went through it myself, I started noticing it everywhere. I saw some people move through the discomfort or saw most actively avoiding it. And often, avoidance didn’t lead to peace. It led to frustration, anger, disconnection, and sometimes physical illness. So the brain isn’t always “smart.” It’s protective.

For a long time, I believed I had to follow a certain path. Be a particular kind of person. Build a specific kind of career. Want the things I thought I should want. But that path wasn’t making me happy.

When I realised this, I felt lost. And I hated that feeling. I didn’t like the unknown. I didn’t like the sense of failure. I didn’t like not knowing who I was becoming.

What I didn’t understand at the time was that moving away from unhappiness often means moving through something darker first. My brain resisted that (Of course it did!). Feeling lost feels unsafe, and safety is its job.

But paradoxically, allowing myself to feel lost made me feel more alive. That’s when I realised the path I thought I was meant to take wasn’t mine, and maybe never was.

This is why I’m now actively exploring how we stay human inside this triangular relationship of body, mind, and soul, rather than trying to override it.

So why explore this?

Because our worlds are changing quickly, and anxiety and stress seem to be rising alongside that change.

Many of us want to contribute. To create something meaningful. To improve the systems we’re part of. And we want to feel okay inside ourselves while doing so. Which means messing up. Feeling lost.
Changing our minds.

I found myself asking…is it possible to create change without losing ourselves? Is there a way to stay human inside all of this?

A brief truth about rationality

Psychology and neuroscience tell us something important. While humans are capable of rational thought, our reasoning is regularly shaped, and distorted, by emotion, bias, and context.

We rely on shortcuts. We favour information that confirms what we already believe. We’re influenced by how things are framed. We struggle with uncertainty more than we realise, which explains why feeling lost can feel so threatening.

And perhaps that isn’t a flaw.

Because truth and rationality can be confronting. They strip away certainty. They expose vulnerability. They challenge the stories we use to feel competent, righteous, or in control. Perfect logic offers little comfort when what we really want is safety, belonging, or meaning.

So maybe the question isn’t ‘why aren’t we more rational?’. Maybe it’s ‘what are we protecting ourselves from?’.

The external pressure

Then there’s everything outside of us.

Relationships. Expectations. Work. Money. Roles. Social spaces that celebrate polished outcomes but rarely make room for the messy middle.

We’re asked to be calm but urgent. Authentic but appropriate. Confident but not too much. Caring without slowing things down. It’s a lot!

And here’s the part that keeps pulling me back to this exploration: These systems were created by humans. Which means they reflect our fears, our values, our assumptions. Not some neutral truth about how life should be lived.

I often hear people say “the system is fecked” or “the system is rigged.” And that saddens me, because we made them. So I find myself wondering…Is this the result of complexity we don’t know how to hold? Of honesty we don’t yet have the capacity for?

I’m choosing to believe that humans aren’t inherently broken. That we are, at our core, caring. So instead of writing systems off as the problem, I want to understand how they come into being in the first place.

What drives our behaviour? What do we reward? What do we fear? What does “being human” even mean inside these structures?

Staying human

I’ve come to believe that being human becomes less hard, not when life gets easier, but when we develop better ways of being with our own inner worlds. And even that can feel uncomfortable.

We often carry guilt when things feel lighter, as if ease needs justification. Another story we’ve created. Self-reflection doesn’t come naturally for most of us. We’re rarely taught how to notice what’s happening inside us. We can feel it, but we don’t always know what to do with it.

Often, reflection arrives through disruption: a loss, a breakdown, a moment when the old way stops working. Not because we’re resistant. But because our brains prefer the familiar. Known discomfort over unknown change. Stability over uncertainty.

So sometimes we need an interruption. Not to fix ourselves, but to listen.

What happens if we stop asking What’s wrong with me and start asking…

• What is my body responding to right now?
• What story is my mind telling to keep me safe?
• What do I actually need, underneath the noise?

Different ways of coping

What if we also allowed that people cope differently?

Some lean in. Some step back. Some need time. Some need grounding. Some need space. Some need rest. Some need to speak (or shout). And none of that is failure.

My practice

My practice… in myself, in my work, and in the spaces I hold… is an exploration of how we stay human while navigating complexity. Complexity in our inner worlds. Complexity in relationships. Complexity in the systems we unconsciously create and then try to change.

I’m not exploring this through answers or neat frameworks (even though our brains love them!). What we like and what we need aren’t always the same thing. So I begin with curiosity. With compassion. With a willingness to stay present with what’s here.

I believe being human isn’t about having it figured out (thank goodness, because that would be a complete charade!). It’s about learning how to remain grounded without certainty. How to question our thoughts without believing every one else’s. How to live inside systems without losing ourselves to them.

We’re all learning how to do this, in different ways, at different speeds, with the tools we’ve been given.

And honestly? Sometimes the work is simply learning how to stay steady, and not lose our shit, most of the time.

Have you ever expected someone to do something the way you would… only to feel frustrated when they didn’t? Or maybe you’ve been on the other end, trying your best, but someone expected more (or less) than you could give.

Expectations. Capacity. Capability.

Three small words that quietly shape how we work, lead, and live together. And when they clash, things can get messy.

We talk a lot about communication, teamwork, or motivation, but rarely about capacity: the invisible fuel tank that drives everything.

Most of us:
• Don’t fully know our own capacity
• Don’t recognise the capacity of others
• Often expect too much (or too little) without realising it

Hands up… I have been one of those people. And when that happens? Frustration. Misunderstandings. Burnout. Blame. A perfect storm of “why can’t they just…” and “why can’t I keep up?”

🪴 Quick check-in

How full is your cup right now… 20%, 60%, or overflowing? There’s no right answer. Just awareness.

The Spectrum of Capacity

Someone else’s 100% might be your 50%. Your 100% today might be your 70% tomorrow. It’s forever moving, never fixed. We love to imagine people as consistent… same effort, same energy, same output. But humans don’t work like that.

We have seasons, cycles, hormones, stress, sleep (or lack of it), and emotional weather systems constantly changing the forecast. When we ignore that, we start holding others, and ourselves, to unrealistic standards.

Knowledge Box: What is Capacity, Really?

In psychology, capacity is often seen as the combination of energy + focus + emotional bandwidth available at a given moment. It’s not just “time.” You can have six free hours and still be at zero capacity.

When we’re unaware of capacity, we:
• Expect others to work at our pace
• Push ourselves beyond healthy limits
• Underestimate people who need a different rhythm

Awareness isn’t about constantly analysing every move, that’s exhausting! It’s about noticing just enough to respond, not react. I often say two things (so often that people tease me for them):

“I just want to check in…”, “Does that make sense?”

Because those small pauses open space for understanding. They help me know where someone’s at, not just what they’re doing.

🪴 Try this

Next time someone “drops the ball,” pause and ask yourself: “What might their 100% look like right now?”. That one question can change the whole tone of your response.

Expectations, Discomfort, and Learning

Here’s something I’ve noticed: we don’t take enough risks anymore. We’ve become scared of trying, failing, learning… the very things that teach us what we’re good at. We’ve built a culture where being uncomfortable is seen as bad. WTF! When did that happen? We avoid discomfort like it’s contagious. But discomfort isn’t dangerous, it’s data.

It tells us where our edges are. And edges are where growth happens. One of my favourite quotes sums this up: “Mistakes are the portals of discovery” — James Joyce.

We can temper expectations, yes. But we also need to stretch. Stretch without snapping. If we never stretch, we stagnate. If we stretch too far, we burn out. The art is learning how to flex.

🪴 Reflection

Where have you avoided discomfort recently? And what might that avoidance have cost you?

Capable vs Capability, and Why It Matters

When I first realised the distinction between capable and capability, I went “Ah!”.

Capable means: I can already do the work.
Capability means: I have the potential to become capable.

Simple, right? Yet we mix them up all the time. And when we do, we make poor decisions around delegation, training, and support. I once worked with a team who proudly said, “We have the capability to deliver this service.”. In reality, only one person was truly capable at the time. A handful had potential. The rest were… hopeful. You can imagine what happened next. The capable person became overloaded. Others felt overwhelmed and under-supported. Morale dropped. The project failed. Not because people didn’t care, but because expectations didn’t match reality.

Learning by Example

If I picked up a flute today, I wouldn’t be capable (let’s not even imagine the sound that would come out!). But I have capability. I’m creative (and pretty determined), so with the right support, I could learn.

To build capability into capable, I’d need:

1. A goal (play a tune in 3 months)
2. Standards (know basic scales)
3. Mentorship (someone who already plays)
4. Practice (turning theory into skill)

Work is no different. Capability becomes capable through time, structure (goals and expectations), and support.

🪴 Reflection

Think of your team (or even your friends). Who is capable right now? Who has capability, and what do they need to grow into it?

Building Awareness and Empathy in Teams

This is where everything comes together: awareness, capacity, expectations, and empathy.

To me, empathy isn’t about “being nice.” It’s about seeing clearly.

Knowing that everyone’s experience is different, and still finding ways to work together.

Just because someone’s 100% is different to yours doesn’t make it less valuable. Far from it.

Here’s a simple framework I use: The Awareness Loop -

1. Check-in: “Where are you at right now?”
2. Clarify: “What’s your focus or goal today?”
3. Collaborate: “How can we support each other?”
4. Calibrate: “What needs to change?”

Repeat as needed. It’s not a one-time thing, it’s a rhythm.

Knowledge Box: Emotional Intelligence in Practice

Research from Harvard Business Review shows that teams with high emotional intelligence outperform others by up to 20–30%. Why? Because they name tensions early, build trust faster, and recover from mistakes more easily.

I’ve seen this in my own work. When teams make space for reflection, not just on what went well, but on what was hard, things start to shift. Goals become clearer. Expectations get named. People feel seen. And when people feel seen, they do better work.

🪴 Mini-Exercise

In your next team meeting, try asking:
“What helps you thrive when things get busy?”
“What drains you the most?”

You’ll learn more in 10 minutes than in a month of observation.

Managing Different Capacities in a Team

Managing different capacities isn’t about lowering standards. It’s about creating the right conditions for everyone to thrive. Think about it like an ecosystem. Plants come in all sizes, grow at different rates, and flourish in different environments. Here are a few practical anchors I’ve found helpful:

1. Clear Communication
Don’t assume people know the “why.”
Share goals, context, and reasoning.
Even simple things like weekly emails outlining what everyone’s doing can ground people.
Transparency is massively underrated.
When people understand why something matters, they naturally focus better.

2. Emotional Intelligence
Develop your ability to read the room.
Notice tone shifts. Be curious about silence.
Ask, don’t assume.
“I just want to check where you’re at right now” can open doors no policy ever could.

3. Organisation
Create structure that supports flexibility.
Use planning tools, visual boards, or whatever works for your brain… but don’t let systems replace conversation.

4. Delegation
Delegate wisely. Give people tasks that match both their capability and current capacity.
If someone’s running low, reduce load or pair them with someone who can coach them through.
It’s not about equal work, it’s about equitable contribution.

🪴 Pause and Reflect

When was the last time you honestly asked your team, or yourself…“What do you need right now to do your best work?”.

Slowing Down and Redefining Success

Now for a wee curveball… we need to slow down. We’ve built a world that worships “efficiency,” but humans are not meant to be efficient all the time. We need space to think, rest, integrate, and even be a bit messy.

Why do we keep believing that being effective and efficient equals success? Where does that come from? I’ll explore this more in my next blog, but for now, here’s a thought:

Nature doesn’t rush. It grows, rests, and renews, yet everything gets done. We could learn a lot from that.

The Ecosystem Mindset

Not every plant blooms at once. Some take years to root before flowering. Some shed leaves to make space for others to thrive. Teams, and humans, work the same way. We don’t all need to do everything, all the time. We need to understand our roles in the ecosystem. Because when we do, we stop competing for sunlight, and start sharing it.

🪴 Pause for a moment

• What’s one expectation you could release this week, from yourself or someone else?
• What’s one capacity-building conversation you could start?

Write it down. Or better yet, act on it.

Final Thoughts

Capacity isn’t static. Capability takes time. Expectations shape everything. But when we bring awareness, empathy, and honest conversation into the mix, something magical happens…People thrive. Teams flow.

And we stop managing outputs and start nurturing humans. So… do you want to build a long-term community that has ripple effects? Or just get the job done? Both are valid. But only one leaves the world a little better than before.

Over to you

How do you check in on capacity, in yourself or in others? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

When we think of leadership, we often picture bold, confident people who know exactly what they’re doing. We even confuse leadership with management.

But leadership is rarely neat. It’s often silent, messy, and filled with uncomfortable conversations. It’s not about simply managing a business or a team. It’s about holding a vision, guiding people, and creating a culture where both the organisation and individuals can flourish.

I learned this lesson early. At 17, I told my manager I was struggling with transport because of challenges at home. I promised I’d still come in, but I might be late or very early. Her reply: “Is your personal life going to impact my business? I don’t have time for that.”

I left that conversation feeling small. And that day, I promised myself I’d do leadership differently.

Over the past decade, I’ve run a social enterprise and charity supporting adults with additional support needs. In that time, I’ve supported over 50 employees and countless volunteers, often people facing barriers to work. Many of these roles were for a set time to help as a stepping stone. At one point, I led a team of 19 people across three locations. I know many people will have managed more. The way I did it was different. Regular mentoring, regular team meetings, training, person centred development, and managing it alongside developing an organisation and concept. It was…and still is…ambitious, and at times overwhelming. But I wouldn’t change it, because every experience taught me lessons that continue to ground me.

These lessons keep me asking myself one question: “Am I selling a product, or creating a way of being?”. I check in with this on a weekly basis. If my behaviour or reactions are leaning more towards a product, I know I need to get back on track or pivot.

Here are five concepts I return to often, which I believe can help create more inclusive and human spaces for employment and volunteering.

1. Mindset is key

Policies matter, but they don’t create culture. People do. A policy without the right mindset is like a book on a shelf: it looks good, but it doesn’t shape daily behaviour.

To lead inclusively, we need curiosity. We need openness. We even need playfulness. Because when you work with people, things get messy. Emotions come into the room. Situations change. Challenges surface. A rigid mindset can’t handle that.

I’ve seen this first hand. A staff member once struggled in a role, and the stress rippled across the team. I could have forced it, blamed them, fired them, or let frustration build. Instead, we had honest conversations. Together, we looked at their strengths and shifted their role. That small act of flexibility unlocked new ideas and contributions that I would have missed if I’d only focused on “the job description.”

Practical tip: Pay attention to the words you use. Instead of “What do you need to get the job done?” try: “I notice you don’t seem yourself in this task. How can we adapt it to play to your strengths?”

That shift opens the door to collaboration instead of compliance.

Reflection prompt: Where in your workplace is mindset, not policy, the real barrier?

2. Vulnerability and bravery

Mindset is the foundation. Vulnerability and bravery help us build on it.

Many times, I’ve sat across from a staff member and admitted: “I don’t have the answer right now, but I want to work through this with you.” Those conversations weren’t easy. Sometimes they lasted weeks. Sometimes there were tears. But by naming challenges honestly and staying with the discomfort, we almost always moved forward together. When we didn’t move forward, it was usually a sign that the soil wasn’t right for growth, and sometimes the most inclusive act is helping someone find a different place to flourish

Too often, leaders avoid difficult conversations out of fear. Fear of saying the wrong thing, fear of making it worse. But silence is worse. It leaves people isolated, or quietly excluded.

Brave leadership means speaking, even when you’re unsure. Vulnerable leadership means admitting mistakes and inviting others to call you out. Both are essential for trust.

Practical tip: Try saying to your team: “I will make mistakes. Please tell me when I do. Let’s learn together.”

That one sentence changes everything.

Reflection prompt: What conversation have you avoided for fear of saying the wrong thing?

3. Know yourself

This one is tough — but vital.

Working with people is like looking in a mirror. They will press your buttons. They will trigger your insecurities. And if you haven’t done your own inner work, you’ll react from frustration instead of calm.

I think back to my manager at 17. Later, I learned she was under enormous personal and financial stress. I don’t hold her reaction against her anymore. In fact, I’m grateful. It taught me that when leaders don’t know themselves, their stress seeps into their decisions.

As leaders, we need to be honest about our own struggles. We need practices that help us notice when our reactions are about us, not the person in front of us.

Practical tip: Try a weekly reflection. Ask yourself:
“Where was I reactive this week? What does that tell me about me?”

It sounds simple, but that pause creates self-awareness. Without it, you can’t create safe space for others.

Reflection prompt: What triggers in your leadership are really about you, not someone else?

4. Belonging matters

Work is more than a job. It’s dignity. It’s contribution. It’s belonging. When people feel they belong, they shine. When they don’t, confidence withers.

Belonging isn’t a nice extra, it’s a basic human need. Feeling useful and valued is primal. It gives us purpose, and it fuels resilience. In a world where change is constant, resilience is essential.

I’ve seen people transform not because their role changed, but because they felt needed. A volunteer who doubted their abilities started thriving once they were invited to share their skills with others. A staff member with low confidence blossomed when they realised the team relied on them.

Practical tip: Don’t just design roles around tasks. Design them around contribution. Ask: “How does this role make someone feel they belong?”

Reflection prompt: How do people in your organisation know they belong?

5. We are an ecosystem

Finally, we need to remember: no one works in isolation. Employment isn’t just about filling roles. It’s about feeding a healthy ecosystem.

Not everyone’s 100% looks the same. My 100% might be someone else’s 40%. Someone else’s 100% might be my 50%. That doesn’t mean either of us has less value, it means our contributions are different.

Sometimes inclusion means helping someone move into a different role, even outside your organisation. That might sound counterintuitive. But when people find the right place to thrive, the ripple effect strengthens the whole system. And your organisation, an ecosystem itself, is also part of a wider ecosystem.

I’ve had to do this many times. Supporting someone into a role elsewhere wasn’t easy. But I know it contributed to the wider economy of care, talent, and dignity. It was still leadership, just not the kind that shows up neatly on a staffing chart.

Practical tip: Redefine success. Instead of “Did this person stay here?” ask: “Is this person in a role where they can contribute at their best, and flouirsh, whatever that looks like for them?”

Reflection prompt: Where are you holding onto people or roles that no longer serve them or the wider ecosystem?

Closing

Leadership is not about being bold, confident, or always right. It’s not about selling a product or managing a process. It’s about creating a way of being.

A way of being where people belong.
Where policies align with mindset.
Where vulnerability builds trust.
Where leaders know themselves.
And where employment is not just jobs, but soil which is nourishing, grounding, and alive.

The more nourishing we make that soil, the more people take root, grow, and flourish. And for me, that’s what leadership will always be about.

Have you heard of self-regulation? Or maybe the term happy hormones? You might be wondering, what do these have to do with leadership or running a business?

Everything.

This blog’s a bit longer, and yes, we’re going to touch on some science. But bear with me. It all connects, and it’s all really important.

The World Is Changing. Fast.

In today’s ever-shifting world, we’re dealing with more uncertainty than ever: constant tech updates, changing customer expectations, global competition, and then there’s our personal lives. We’re expected to keep up, perform, adapt, lead. It’s no wonder we’re overwhelmed! The reality? To thrive, we need to learn how to regulate ourselves better…and faster. Let’s explore why this matters, and how we can do it.

The Body–Business Connection

We all have a nervous system. It’s our built-in communication system, sending chemical messages (hormones) around our body to coordinate how we think, feel, and act. Some of these hormones are associated with stress (like cortisol and adrenaline), and others are linked to joy, motivation, and bonding (like dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and endorphins — aka the happy hormones).

Why talk about this in the context of leadership? Because our body is the vessel we lead from. If our body is dysregulated, our mind follows. And if our mind is struggling, how can we possibly make strong decisions, build thriving teams, or lead with vision?

The Nervous System 101 (Without the jargon)

We have an autonomic nervous system (ANS) with two branches:

• Sympathetic: fight or flight — gets us ready to act and react
• Parasympathetic: rest and digest — helps us calm, recover, and reset

Think of your nervous system like a wave fluctuating slightly above and below a “0” line, between the systems. A healthy, regulated body moves within a small range, maybe up or down by 10 points. That’s normal. That’s manageable. But then… BAM. Something stressful happens. Your wave spikes 100 points up. That spike often comes with a sharp crash down. And the more this happens, the harder it becomes to recover. This is when we start living in chronic stress.

The Cost of Being Dysregulated

When we’re constantly operating from a place of survival, the effects show up in our health and behaviour:

• You dread checking your inbox.
• You enter conversations on the defensive.
• You procrastinate to avoid potential failure.
• You snap quicker, or can’t switch off.
• You feel unwell more often, struggling to recover.
• Your sleep is broken. Your digestion is off.
• Your body is tense. Your breath is shallow.

This isn’t just stress. It’s dysregulation. It means your body is stuck in a survival loop, and it impacts everything. Including your ability to lead.

So What Does This Have to Do with Leadership?

Everything.

Being regulated allows you to:

• Respond instead of react.
• Communicate calmly and clearly.
• Lead your team through change without spiralling.
• Build strong relationships.
• Make thoughtful decisions, not panic moves.
• Bounce back quicker when things go wrong.

Self-regulation supports not just your well-being, but your effectiveness as a leader. It’s how you become resilient and relational: two cornerstones of modern leadership.

So How Do You Regulate Yourself?

Let’s dive into the happy hormones, and how to increase them. Think of these as your personal toolkit for daily balance.

1. Dopamine — The Motivation Molecule

Boosts pleasure, achievement, reward.
Try:
✓ A nourishing meal
✓ Uplifting music
✓ Completing a task
✓ Creative projects
✓ A good laugh

2. Serotonin — The Mood Stabiliser

Regulates sleep, appetite, and mood.
Try:
✓ Sunlight
✓ Time in nature
✓ Movement
✓ Quality sleep
✓ Gratitude journaling

3. Oxytocin — The Connection Hormone

Builds trust, love, and empathy.
Try:
✓ Physical affection
✓ Meaningful conversations
✓ Giving compliments or gifts
✓ Shared activities with loved ones

4. Endorphins — The Natural Pain Relievers

Reduces discomfort and stress.
Try:
✓ Exercise (yes, a brisk walk counts, but not while on the phone)
✓ Laughing with others
✓ Music and dance
✓ Being creative and playful

Food, Sleep, Breath: Your Everyday Anchors

Food — Not just fuel, but a mood stabiliser. Cooking and sharing meals triggers all four happy hormones.
Sleep — Essential for restoring the nervous system. Sleep deprivation increases cortisol and reduces recovery.
Breathing — Deep, slow breaths restore balance and increase Heart Rate Variability (HRV). A higher HRV = stronger recovery.

Fun fact: breathing is one of the fastest ways to signal safety to your body. Try this: inhale for 5, hold for 5, exhale for 5. Repeat. Maybe try tapping your fingers while counting.

You’re Wired By What You Repeat

Neural pathways are built through repetition. That means regulation practices aren’t for when you’re already burnt out, they’re for before. On a personal note, daily check-ins help me stay on track. I tune into my thoughts, breath, body tension, and heart rate. I do this daily, try to anyway, I’m only human. Sometimes I do it while pushing a trolley while food shopping. This builds awareness, and from awareness I can respond, not react.

Regulation Is a Leadership Skill

If we want to build strong businesses, lead healthy teams, and make wise decisions, we have to start with our own vessel. Self-regulation isn’t fluffy or a nice perk. It’s foundational. It’s essential. And it might just be your most powerful leadership tool.

Let’s build resilience from the inside out, breath by breath, step by step, hormone by hormone.

Want to go deeper? I’ll be writing more about breathing techniques, and how to integrate regulation into your leadership rhythms. Stay tuned.

Nature is the perfect metaphor for life, in my opinion. In its infinite wisdom, it offers us a mirror to reflect on our own journeys, helping us navigate the complexities of leadership with more understanding, grace, and groundedness. It teaches us about resilience, adaptability, growth, the cyclical nature of existence, and the beauty of impermanence.

One of my favourite teachers from the natural world is the dandelion — often overlooked, misunderstood, and even despised. And yet, it’s powerful. That’s why I named my coaching practice Determined Dandelions. Because we are all dandelions.

Can you believe the dandelion is considered a weed? What! Weeds are simply plants growing where they’re not wanted. It’s not a name of a plant, it’s a label. Just like leadership: it’s not always neat, pretty, or universally accepted. Sometimes, it’s messy, misunderstood, and disruptive. But it’s necessary.

The dandelion reminds me of how we, too, are often labelled, judged, or underestimated. Yet, like this wildflower, we are strong, purposeful, and essential to the ecosystem around us.

Here are a few lessons I’ve learned from my friend, the dandelion:

🌬 Dream Boldly, Journey with Courage
Dandelion seeds travel far, carried by the wind across continents. They embrace uncertainty and adapt wherever they land. Just like great leaders, they move forward with curiosity, not fear.

🌱 Life is a Team Game
Dandelions send deep taproots into the soil, pulling up nutrients that nourish surrounding plants. They quietly improve their ecosystem. Leadership, too, is about lifting others up and recognising our interdependence.

🌼 Resilience, Versatility, and Tenacity
Cut a dandelion down, and it comes back stronger. Its persistence is a beautiful metaphor for how we can rise after setbacks, grow through challenges, and stand tall in our authenticity. As a leader, you will go through a lot of challenges, but you will rise from them.

🌕 Embrace Transformation
From yellow bloom to fluffy seedhead, the dandelion doesn’t resist change, it embraces change and understands the power of release. Leadership asks the same of us: to evolve, to let go when needed, and to trust the process.

🌿 Value in the Unseen
Dandelions offer food, medicine, even natural dye. There’s value in what’s often dismissed. Likewise, your quiet strengths, unpolished edges, and hidden talents matter. They’re part of your impact.

👁 Perspective Shapes Reality
To one person, a dandelion is a nuisance. To another, it’s joy, a wish, a memory. What we choose to see determines what we experience. Leadership is the same, it begins with perspective.

Want to explore this further?

Read my full chapter in the book ‘From the Heart’ and discover how we can grow stronger, braver, and more grounded through nature’s wisdom. You’ll also be inspired by stories from other incredible women.

Buy today — From The Heart Book — Dina Behrman

🌼 Curious about working together one-on-one? I’d love to connect. Let’s grow something beautiful, together — determineddandelions.com

Vulnerability, a word that’s everywhere these days. But I believe it’s often misunderstood and misused.

This week feels like the perfect time to talk about it. I’m putting myself out there in a big way:

· A co-authored book featuring a chapter of my journey is being released this Thursday (1st of May!).

· I’ve also started a YouTube channel.

Honestly? I feel like a bit of a numpty. That little voice saying “Who do you think YOU are?” is very loud! And it made me stop and really ask: Why am I putting myself out there?

Because posting, speaking, or sharing publicly doesn’t automatically mean we’re being vulnerable (Controversial, I know). Sometimes, we use the idea of “vulnerability” as armour rather than openness.

We share our struggles, but not to grow, connect, or inspire. We share to deflect, to excuse, or to protect ourselves from real discomfort.

For example:

“I’m grumpy because things are hard at home.” → That’s a shield.
VS.

“I’m struggling with a lot of unknowns right now. I might not be at my best, here’s what I need…” → That’s authentic vulnerability.

This isn’t about blame. It’s about awareness. It’s something most of us do unconsciously. Even leaders who talk about “being vulnerable” often misunderstand how to practice it authentically.

So…

When you put something out into the world, ask yourself:

• Am I showing up to grow, connect, move forward?
• Or am I shielding myself under the label of “being brave”?

True vulnerability means being open to discomfort. It means knowing some people might not like what you say. It means facing awkward conversations, harsh feedback, or misunderstandings, and staying open-hearted anyway.

One of my favourite quotes by Brené Brown captures this beautifully:
“Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.”

What Authentic Vulnerability Is, and Isn’t

✅ Authentic vulnerability is:

• Admitting you don’t have all the answers, but you’re committed to finding a way forward.
• Sharing challenges with a desire to create solutions, not just offload problems.
• Recognising when others are struggling and being willing to feel uncomfortable to help.
• Receiving feedback, even if it’s hard to hear.
• Leading by example to build deeper connections and create flow.
• Sharing mistakes or lessons learned as a story, with a focus on growth.
• Praising others genuinely, even when it feels awkward.

🚫 Vulnerability is NOT:

• Sharing everything about your personal life (boundaries are key).
• Oversharing to seek comfort from others (that’s emotional dumping, not vulnerability).
• Using struggles as an excuse to stay stuck.
• Acting helpless or hopeless.

Ask yourself:

• Am I creating additional emotional work for others (burden)?
• Or am I helping create space for growth and connection (bridge)?

My Personal Reminder This Week

By putting myself out there with my book and YouTube channel, I know I may inspire some and rumble others. But my intention is clear: To create space for growth.

Growth is uncomfortable. It often hurts. But it’s where real change happens. This is what authentic vulnerability looks like for me right now, facing the discomfort, staying open, and choosing growth over perfection.

I’ll be sharing the book link on Thursday! I can’t wait!

In the meantime, I challenge you:
How does vulnerability show up for you?
Is it authentic, or is it still wearing a little bit of armour?

What if the Greatest Barrier to Innovation is Our Own Brain?

We’re innovating faster than we can evolve — and it’s making us anxious. Every day we’re surrounded by rapid technological advancement, digital transformation, and ever-growing expectations to keep up, scale up, and reinvent. But beneath it all, many of us feel… overwhelmed, disconnected, or burnt out.

Could it be that we’ve left the human brain behind?

In a world racing forward, our brains are stuck in survival mode. While technology has evolved at lightning speed, our brains have only taken small, careful steps. Did you know, the part of our brain responsible for reasoning and reflection — the prefrontal cortex — isn’t even fully developed until our late 20s. Did you also know, it only makes up about 30% of our brain. The rest? Still wired for threat detection, survival, and repetition.

So what happens when we throw this beautiful, ancient organ into a world of hyper-productivity, instant results, and digital-everything?

We get stress.
We get burnout.
We get climate anxiety, decision fatigue, and the sense that we’re running faster and faster, but feeling less and less connected.

The parts of our brain that manage fear, emotion and survival (Our amygdala and limbic system) still dominate in high-pressure or unfamiliar situations. Our brains are physically wired to keep us alive, not to thrive. Even if surviving makes us unhappy.

As a therapist and entrepreneur, I’ve seen this pattern everywhere. Even in myself. I’ve been pondering this for a while now, and had an aha moment. And this is me on the road to figuring out what we can now do. People are craving new ways of working, not because the old ones are broken, but because they’re not aligned with how we actually function…physically!… as human beings.

We can’t keep designing systems that forget the brain, or the body, or the soul.

We need innovation that doesn’t just come from the mind, but works with it. Purpose-led systems that feel sustainable not just environmentally or economically, but neurologically.

Here’s my theory:
👉 We’re not evolving fast enough — physically, emotionally, mentally — to meet the demands of forced innovation.
👉 And the pressure to keep up is quietly eroding our wellbeing, our relationships, and our connection to the bigger picture.

But what if we didn’t force it?
What if we let innovation be more human? More rhythmic? More curious?
What if we learned from nature, and gave ourselves space to think, to feel, to breathe?

What would actually happen to the world?

Nature doesn’t rush. It grows in seasons. It creates complex, adaptive systems that thrive through interdependence , not constant acceleration. And no offence, nature has been here longer than humans.

I believe we can find a new way forward by bridging psychology, innovation, and nature. A way of working, creating, and leading that honours the brain we have, not the machine we think we should be.

This is the beginning of a longer journey for me. I don’t have fancy solutions yet. But I’m percolating.

Have you ever felt outpaced by the world around you? Do you notice the tension between your desire to innovate and your need to rest, reflect, or just breathe?

Let’s start the conversation. Feel free to comment, share, or connect if this resonates.