Written by Sarah Hurst, Coach and Creator of the Mind Medicine Movement™ Drawing on her own healing journey through cancer, Sarah Hurst is a coach and creator of the Mind Medicine Movement™, helping people calm the nervous system, reconnect to themselves, and take back their power to heal body, mind, and soul. When life becomes frightening or uncertain, we are often told to “stay positive”. It is usually said with love, but when you are facing cancer, grief, trauma or another life-changing experience, positivity can sometimes feel like another thing you have to get right. Hope is different. Hope does not ask you to deny what hurts, it simply leaves the door open to the possibility that something else may still be ahead. What is hope? Hope and positivity are often used as though they mean the same thing, but I believe there is an important difference between them. Positive thinking tends to focus on expecting a good outcome, whereas hope can exist even when we genuinely do not know what the outcome will be. During my own cancer journey, I learnt that I did not need to convince myself that everything was going to be fine. Sometimes I was frightened, sometimes I was overwhelmed, and there were moments when I could not see very far ahead at all. What I needed was something quieter and more believable than certainty. I needed to know that there was still possibility. Psychology gives us an interesting way of understanding this. Hope Theory, developed by psychologist Charles Snyder, describes hope as involving both agency, meaning our sense that we can move towards something meaningful, and pathways, meaning our ability to see or create possible routes towards it. Hope, in this sense, is not simply wishing for the best. It contains movement, possibility and a sense that we may still have some choices available to us. That distinction matters enormously when so much of life feels beyond our control. Positivity can become pressure There is nothing wrong with positivity. Optimism, gratitude and noticing what is good can all be valuable parts of emotional wellbeing. The problem comes when positivity becomes an expectation rather than something that arises naturally. People facing cancer know this particularly well. Comments such as “You’ve got to stay positive”, “Everything happens for a reason” or “Don’t think negatively” are usually intended to reassure, but they can unintentionally silence the very emotions someone needs space to feel. Fear does not disappear because we tell ourselves not to feel it. Neither do grief, anger, sadness or uncertainty. When positivity asks us to push these feelings away, it can create another layer of pressure because now, not only are we frightened, but we may also believe we are somehow failing at healing because we are frightened. This is where I think hope offers something much kinder. Hope can say, “This is really hard, and I am frightened, but I am still here.” It allows reality and possibility to exist in the same sentence, which is very different from pretending everything is okay. Hope makes room One of the things I feel strongly about in my work is that emotional healing needs room for the whole human experience. We do not heal by dividing emotions into good ones that are allowed and bad ones that need to disappear. Sometimes fear needs to be heard. Sometimes grief needs to be felt. Sometimes anger is telling us that a boundary has been crossed, and sometimes sadness simply needs somewhere safe to land. Hope does not compete with these emotions. It can sit beside them. You can be terrified before a scan and still hope for good news. You can grieve the life you had before illness and still wonder what your future might hold. You can feel exhausted by treatment and still have a tiny part of you imagining walking along a beach again, seeing your children grow, taking another holiday or simply waking one morning and feeling more like yourself. Holding hope does not make the difficult feelings less real. It simply means they are not the only thing that is real. Hope creates possibility This is one reason hope sits so firmly within the Purpose pillar of my Slow Down, Identity, Purpose and Self-Love (SIPS™) framework. Purpose gives us something to move towards, and hope allows us to believe that movement is still possible. Purpose does not have to mean discovering a huge mission for your life. In the middle of illness or emotional overwhelm, that idea can feel ridiculous. Purpose might simply be wanting enough energy to sit in the garden, having something in the diary you genuinely want to do, reconnecting with someone you love, or deciding that you want to feel a little more peaceful in your own body. Those small desires matter because they point towards a future. In my article Why Healing Begins With Gentle SIPS™, I explored why slowing down comes first in my framework. When we create enough space to hear ourselves again, we begin to notice what matters. From there, identity and purpose can gently start to emerge. Hope gives that purpose somewhere to breathe. It reminds us that the future has not been completely written yet. Why hope matters Hope is not just a lovely idea. It has been studied extensively within psychology and healthcare, including among people living with cancer. A systematic review examining hope during cancer treatment found that hope was positively associated with factors including quality of life, social support and spiritual or existential wellbeing, and negatively associated with psychological distress and depression. A further meta-analysis examining positive psychological resources also found a positive association between hope and quality of life in people with cancer. These findings need to be understood carefully. They do not mean that hope cures cancer or that someone who is struggling emotionally is somehow affecting their chances of recovery. That kind of message places an enormous and unfair responsibility on the person who is ill. What the research does suggest is that hope can be an important psychological resource. When life becomes uncertain, having something meaningful to move towards can influence how we experience that uncertainty, how we cope and how connected we remain to life beyond what is happening today. For me, that is where hope becomes powerful. Finding everyday glimmers Hope does not always arrive as a great surge of confidence. Quite often, it begins much more quietly, through what I call glimmers. A glimmer is a tiny moment that catches your attention because something about it feels good, safe or alive. It might be sunlight coming through the window, the warmth of a mug between your hands, birdsong, somebody making you laugh, a favourite piece of music or the feeling of fresh air on your face. These moments can be easy to overlook, particularly when the nervous system has been living in survival mode. When we are frightened, the brain naturally becomes more alert to threat. As I explored in my article The Nervous System and Healing: Why Calm Is Not a Luxury, It’s Essential, slowing down helps us begin to notice cues of safety again. A glimmer does not need to make you happy. That is important. You might still be having an awful day and notice the sky for ten seconds, and the power is in recognising that, alongside everything difficult, something else exists too. When we begin collecting these tiny moments, we create evidence that our experience is not entirely made up of fear. There are still moments of connection, beauty, humour, comfort and meaning available to us. Those moments may seem very small, but sometimes hope begins exactly there. Hope needs honesty There is another side to hope that I think is particularly important when we are talking about cancer and serious illness. Hope needs to be allowed to evolve. At the beginning of a diagnosis, hope may mean cure. During treatment, it may mean responding well or reaching the end of chemotherapy. Later, it might become hope for a clear scan, more time, less pain, a meaningful holiday, a conversation with someone you love, or simply a peaceful day. Changing what we hope for is not necessarily giving up. Sometimes it is an extraordinarily courageous way of meeting reality while continuing to remain connected to what matters. Research involving people with cancer increasingly recognises the importance of realistic hope, including conversations that honestly acknowledge prognosis while still allowing meaningful hope to exist. Hope does not require false reassurance. In fact, I think authentic hope is stronger when it is grounded in truth. There is a world of difference between saying, “Everything will definitely be fine” and saying, “I don't know exactly what happens next, but we will keep looking for what is possible.” The second leaves room for reality, but it does not close the future. When hope feels distant There will be times when hope feels almost impossible to access. This is particularly true when somebody has just received frightening news, is waiting for results, or has been living with uncertainty for a long time. At those times, asking someone to “find hope” may feel almost as unhelpful as asking them to think positively. We do not need to turn hope into another job. Sometimes we borrow hope. It might come from the medical team, who can still see possibilities we cannot yet see. It might come from a partner, friend, therapist, or coach who can hold a steadier perspective while ours has temporarily disappeared. It might come from hearing somebody else's story, being reminded of something we still care about, or simply having someone beside us who does not try to fix what we are feeling. Hope can be relational. We do not always have to manufacture it alone. This is also why I believe support matters so much after a cancer diagnosis or major life event. There are moments when our own view becomes incredibly narrow because fear takes up all the available space. Having someone calmly walking alongside us can help widen that view again. Hope is not certainty Perhaps the thing I most want people to understand is that hope does not require certainty. If we wait until we know everything will be okay before allowing ourselves to hope, hope becomes impossible in many of the moments when we need it most. Hope lives in uncertainty. It says there might be another path. There might be another option. There might be another beautiful moment tomorrow. There might be strength in me that I have not discovered yet. There might still be life here that is worth leaning towards. This is why I believe hope is more powerful than positive thinking. Positivity can sometimes ask us to change the way we feel about what is happening. Hope allows us to feel exactly as we do while still remaining connected to possibility, and that feels much more human to me. Choose one small hope If life feels uncertain at the moment, you do not need to create a grand vision of the future. Start much closer to where you are. Ask yourself what you hope for today. Not what you think you should hope for, but what would genuinely feel meaningful. Perhaps you hope to sleep well tonight, feel calm for ten minutes, have a conversation you have been avoiding, or notice one glimmer that reminds you there is still beauty around you. Then ask yourself whether there is one tiny thing you can do that supports that hope. This is where hope begins to become more than wishful thinking because, even when we cannot control the outcome, we can sometimes participate in the next step. And if hope feels too far away to hold by yourself right now, allow someone else to hold a little of it with you. You do not need to see the whole path ahead. Sometimes healing begins with believing there may still be a path and taking one gentle step towards it. If you are navigating cancer, illness, or another major life change and would value support in finding your way through fear and back towards hope, you can explore my coaching and the Mind Medicine Movement™. Sometimes the first step is simply having someone in your corner while you begin to see what might still be possible. Follow me on Facebook, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Sarah Hurst Sarah Hurst, Coach and Creator of the Mind Medicine Movement™ After walking her own path through cancer, Sarah Hurst discovered that true healing isn’t just physical, it’s emotional, spiritual, and deeply personal. She went on to create the Mind Medicine Movement™, helping others calm their nervous systems, rediscover purpose, and reconnect with themselves through her SIPS™ framework, Slow Down, Identity, Purpose, Self-Love. Today, Sarah supports people living with or beyond cancer and anyone seeking calm, clarity, and wellness through her coaching, meditation, and touch therapy practice in Hove, East Sussex. She also offers an online coaching service.

Written by Annyx Day, B.A., M.A., RTT Hypnotherapist and RTC Success Coach Annyx Day is the founder and CEO of Living Life Above, Moving Yourself Forward, an RTT Practitioner/Certified Hypnotherapist, and an RTC Success Coach. She helps and guides her clients to excel in their personal and professional lives. Depending on who you talk to, therapy for maintaining a healthy mind is gaining momentum. Some people still think seeking therapy is taboo. Some people don’t believe they need therapy. Some people don’t see the value based on their experiences with previous therapists. Some people praise themselves for seeking therapy with the purpose of self-betterment. I truly believe we are all on this planet with our own destined purpose, which, in turn, contributes to the overall evolution. I have grown to believe we have an obligation to heal our wounds and personal trauma in order to upgrade our lineage and leave this world in a better place than when we found it. My personal experience with therapy is mixed. I have talked with four different traditional therapists over the years to resolve trauma, grief, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), miscarriage, postpartum depression, anxiety, and stress. Each therapist was different, and my results were different each time. From one extreme to another, I saw one therapist for 6 sessions and one for over two years. But one thing always stood out, I was still left with something inside that was unresolved or unhealed. I discovered Rapid Transformational Therapy® (RTT®) in 2021. I was so intrigued that I signed up for the RTT® course with Marisa Peer, the creator and founder of the RTT® School. I knew nothing about Marisa Peer, RTT®, or hypnotherapy. Therefore, this was a huge leap of faith for me, and as a result, it changed my life in so many positive ways. RTT® was the catalyst for these profound changes, and it has helped me finally heal from past trauma, weight issues, PTSD, permanent injury, grief, loss, bereavement, postpartum depression, anxiety, and stress in only 6 RTT® sessions. Yes, I healed all of these struggles in only 6 RTT® sessions. As Marisa Peer encourages all of her graduates to start their own businesses and help others using the RTT® methodology, that is exactly what I did. In 2022, I created and founded Living Life Above to help others the way RTT® helped me. I was paying it forward, and my clients were experiencing amazing results themselves and succeeding beyond what they thought was possible. I wanted to expand my reach and continue helping my RTT® clients, so in 2023, I registered for Marisa Peer’s Rapid Transformational Coaching® (RTC®) course as well. RTC® was the catalyst for my expansion and has helped me refocus my purpose, embrace a growth mindset, manifest what I want in life, and flourish with gratitude. In essence, RTT® is about healing your past wounds, trauma, and what is keeping you stuck, while RTC® is about adopting a growth mindset and helping you manifest the life you really want and deserve. In my next Brainz Magazine article, I will contrast RTT® and RTC®. Why are people afraid of therapy? It is said that people avoid therapy due to the stigma that asking for help equates to weakness. This fear often stems from anticipating judgment, the sheer vulnerability of opening up to a stranger, a lack of trust, or the daunting realization that the process requires confronting painful emotions and making life changes. Here are some of the root causes and reasons why people decide to avoid therapy: 1. Fear of judgment People’s fear of being judged by others is valid and very understandable. Here is the truth, a therapist who demonstrates true integrity and an excellent work ethic will approach every session with an unbiased mindset and will guide you to true healing. It is a matter of finding the right one who understands what you are going through and has proven experience in helping others with similar issues. Connection with your therapist is highly important, and your level of healing is a direct reflection of that. 2. Vulnerability Disclosing past wounds and discussing trauma is very, very painful. Here is the truth, doing so with the right therapist who uses the right methodology brings about inner peace and freedom. Here is one important thing I have learned over the years. Sweeping past traumatic experiences under the rug only amplifies them, whether you realize it or not, and they surface at the most inopportune times in your life. Enter triggers here. Triggers can happen anywhere with anyone. You don’t see them coming, but you sure feel them when they happen. They hit you like a ton of bricks. Unwanted and unhealed memories can trigger unwanted feelings, behaviours, and actions. This is where the unwanted patterns happen, and the vicious cycle continues. In order to change those unwanted patterns, you need to go through this vulnerable stage and get the help you need from the right therapist to finally get to the other side of healing, where the wounds of past trauma no longer have such a hold on you. Yes, this is absolutely possible! 3. Fear of change People fear uncovering or discovering the root of their problems. Again, this is absolutely understandable. Here is the truth, this is where freedom exists. Freedom exists on the other side of healing the root of the problem. It is like extracting the poison from your body, mind, and soul so it no longer affects you the same way. Of course, change will ensue when you understand where the pattern comes from and when you heal from it. In changing the patterns, you free yourself from destructive behaviours. 4. Stigma and shame I use the term “maintaining a healthy mind” instead of “mental health issues.” There is a negative connotation attached to the latter term because it suggests something is wrong with the person instead of trying to understand what has happened in the person’s life for them to think the way they think and act the way they act. I have stated this in my previous articles, “Are Organizations Missing the Mark on Employee Mental Well-Being?”, “How Healing Past Trauma Can Unlock Peace, Purpose, and Happiness”, and “You Do Not Need Years of Therapy to Heal Trauma: An Interview with Annyx Day of Living Life Above.” Slowly, I am dismantling the stigma of seeking help from a therapist, one person at a time. In my opinion, if people shared their positive outcomes from working with a therapist with proven results, more people would be open to therapy. As a result, the stigma would no longer have a leg to stand on. As for shame, here is the truth, I would argue that everyone has shame about something or has situations in their lives they wish to eliminate. This is a part of life. We are not handed a book on life that describes how to navigate through everything on our paths. We do the best we can with the knowledge we have at the time. Most of us, if not all, wish we could go back in time and have a redo, a second chance, and be pardoned for the mistakes we made. Talking with a therapist who is empathetic and unbiased and who provides constructive support regarding the best way forward is necessary and advantageous for you. 5. The unknown Here is the truth, "Does anyone know what tomorrow brings?" Therefore, tomorrow is unknown, yet we still get up the next morning, start our routine, follow through with our obligations, nourish and hydrate ourselves during the day, complete our daily tasks and responsibilities, travel to and from destinations, come home, finish our days with our personal routines, and go to bed expecting to do the same tomorrow. Of course, there are parts of the therapy process that are unknown. Of course, there are parts of your past you wish you never had to revisit again. Of course, therapy is scary. Of course, you hope to feel better after your sessions. Here is the other truth, read your therapist’s client testimonials and pay attention to the results clients achieve from working with them. This usually gives you a great indication of the types of results you can also achieve. Yes, everyone is different, everyone has different lives, and everyone will have different experiences working with that therapist. But if the results point to positivity, then this may be possible for you as well. Here is a hard truth I have come to recognize when I meet new clients, if a person is skeptical, usually that tells me the person does not trust themselves enough to heal from what is keeping them stuck, and they may feel unworthy of receiving similar results. Five signs someone is ready to experience Rapid Transformational Therapy® (RTT®) Now that I have outlined why people are afraid or hesitant to go to a therapist, I will highlight the signs that someone is ready to experience RTT®. The RTT® methodology is considered more effective than traditional therapy because it combines techniques from neuro-linguistic programming (NLP), cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT), hypnotherapy, and psychotherapy. Marisa Peer was a traditional therapist for over 30 years, and she always wondered why it took such a long time for her clients to achieve healing results. Therefore, she created and founded RTT®. Unlike traditional therapy, 3 to 6 RTT® sessions are recommended for profound, concrete, and permanent results. Usually, RTT® practitioners and certified hypnotherapists help clients heal one issue per session. Traditional therapy can feel like you are only scratching the surface of what is really going on, while an RTT® practitioner and certified hypnotherapist goes to the root, cause, and reason why you have an issue in the first place, right from the first session. In essence, RTT® is not a band-aid solution, and I have helped my clients achieve concrete, permanent, and profound results in 1 to 4 RTT® sessions. Some clients come to me never having experienced traditional therapy. Many clients come to me wanting to experience RTT® after being in traditional therapy for years. They want to find a different resolution and finally heal at the core of what is keeping them stuck. They feel traditional therapy has gotten them so far, and they are ready for more profound healing. Other clients come to me having tried traditional therapy, including eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR), CBT, NLP, group and family therapy, Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), talk therapy, Reiki, breathwork, holistic healing, and somatic healing, but never hypnotherapy. RTT® interests them because it sounds so promising, and the prospect of RTT® being a quicker way to healing is very appealing to them. In this section, I will highlight 5 points from my previous article titled “A Roadmap to Healing: How to Know You Are on the Right Path,” which are signs you are ready to experience RTT®. I outline various stages or levels of the healing journey that a person will most likely feel, experience, and overcome. 1. Recognizing I am a firm believer that many people eventually come to a crossroads at which they recognize there is a problem in their lives. Not long after, they are faced with a dilemma, a fork in the road, whether to go left or right. The road to the left represents denial, ignorance, irresponsibility toward personal healing, letting fear dictate your future, and so on. The road to the right represents the opposite. It represents courage, knowing you are worthy of not feeling this way anymore, healing your past, strength, curiosity, facing the unknown, loving yourself enough to know you deserve a better life, exploring limiting beliefs, moving beyond what is keeping you stuck, personal growth, expansion, breaking free from the status quo, having faith in your soul wanting more out of life, and so on. First and foremost, I truly believe everyone at a crossroads has that choice, to go left or right, and that choice determines their outcome. 2. Willingness At that crossroads, willingness is choosing to go right. It represents the willingness to explore why a problem has been plaguing your life and why it has kept you stuck in a looping pattern, the willingness to give yourself a chance at a better life, the willingness to stop fighting and start healing, the willingness to trust yourself and listen to yourself instead of self-sabotaging, the willingness to do something different to get different results, the willingness to prioritize yourself, and the willingness to make that commitment to yourself. 3. Curiosity You have been helped by counsellors, therapists, and psychotherapists. It has been helpful, but you feel there is still something there. It may feel like something is still lingering in your mind, body, and/or memory. It feels like traditional therapy modalities have gotten you so far, and you want to explore another modality, a modern methodology. Then, RTT® may be right for you. RTT® is a different type of therapy with different results. 4. Commitment Once you have made that commitment to yourself, you are in it through thick and thin, for better or worse. For some, making that commitment may be easy. For others, it may be the hardest thing they have ever done. Making that commitment to yourself is prioritizing yourself, wanting better for yourself, and loving yourself. You are declaring your self-worth by making that commitment. It can also be understood as taking accountability to be better and to do better. You are choosing the path to self-betterment. More importantly, if you are fully committed to yourself and your healing journey, you are setting yourself up for a much better life. 5. Action Commitment means taking action. To commit to something without taking action is counterintuitive and does you a great disservice. Taking action involves tapping into a different mindset, putting your body in gear even when you don’t want to or don’t know how, facing the deep emotions and feelings you have been avoiding, even if they are scary and uncomfortable, and reaching out for help. That is the starting point. The key to success is being guided by someone who knows how to heal from past trauma and who has done it for herself. My clients have stated that the actions of reaching out to me and completing their RTT® sessions with me were some of the best things they have done for themselves. If healing yourself is something you wish to explore, if you are ready to heal your past wounds, trauma, and what is keeping you stuck, or if you have started your healing journey and want to experience RTT® sessions with me to achieve true healing in less than 6 months, contact me here, 613-797-8096, or Living Life Above, and I will be honoured to help and guide you! If you would like to know how I have helped my clients heal themselves, please read my clients’ testimonials at Living Life Above. Follow me on Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn for more info! Read more from Annyx Day, B.A., M.A. Annyx Day, B.A., M.A., RTT Hypnotherapist and RTC Success Coach Annyx Day is bridging the gap between people’s personal and professional excellence. Regardless of the various careers she upheld, one theme always stood out to her. Why do people do what they do in their personal as well as professional lives, and what is behind people’s behaviours? Her life’s purpose has always been to help people and to inspire people to move beyond life’s obstacles and challenges and to live a better, more evolved life. Annyx is the founder and CEO of Living Life Above, Moving Yourself Forward, a Rapid Transformational Therapy (RTT) Practitioner/Certified Hypnotherapist, and a Rapid Transformational Coaching (RTC) Success Coach.

Written by Richard Harrison, Harmonic Resonance Guide Richard Harrison is a Harmonic Resonance Guide and founder of Compassionate Breath. With a rich background in yoga, meditation, and breathwork, he empowers individuals to transform trauma into resilience through his unique blend of breath, sound, and symbolic geometry. As children, we are often unaware of the profound impact that early experiences can have on our lives. For some, these moments become echoes, persistent feelings that shape our identity and influence our choices long into adulthood. At the age of seven, I experienced one such moment that left an indelible mark on my life. It was during a morning assembly, a seemingly ordinary event that transformed into a defining incident. I became dizzy, collapsed, and was taken outside while classmates stared, some even laughing. I didn’t realise it then, but this trauma would cultivate a fear of being seen in public that I would carry for years. The incident: A moment frozen in time I still remember the cool morning air, the smell of polished floors, and the sound of muffled whispers echoing through the assembly hall. As I stood among my peers singing ‘Morning Has Broken’, I suddenly felt lightheaded, the world tilting beneath me. I remember the sensation of nausea rising up, the heat in my cheeks, and then vomiting. I knocked into the children in front of me, and everything spiraled into chaos. The next thing I knew, I was outside the hall, sitting on a cold chair with a bucket beside me. I felt exposed and vulnerable, stripped of the protection of my childhood innocence. Behind me, the assembly ended, and as I sat there, I could hear the whispers and laughter of my classmates as they filed past me, some pointing, some mocking. Their laughter echoed in my ears, not just as noise but as a judgment that pierced my sense of safety and belonging. In that moment, I felt shame wash over me. I wanted to disappear into the ground. I felt lonely, surrounded by a sea of faces that had once been familiar but now felt alien and hostile. I was taken out of the hall, but my spirit felt trapped in that moment, unable to escape the weight of what had just happened. When my mother arrived shortly after, I felt a flicker of safety. As we made our way home together, I found solace in the familiar rhythm of her footsteps and the warmth of her presence. My home was my safe haven, a place where the echoes of laughter could not reach me. But deep down, I knew that I would have to return to that place, the school, where the laughter still lingered in the air, like a ghost haunting my memories. The lasting impact: Fear of being seen This incident planted a seed of fear within me, a fear of being judged, ridiculed, and exposed. Over the years, this fear manifested as a pervasive anxiety that affected nearly every aspect of my life, particularly in social and professional settings. In school, I became known as the quiet one, often overlooked, sometimes even invisible. I learned to hide in the background, convinced that blending in was safer than standing out. When group discussions arose, the thought of speaking sent a wave of dread through me. I would rehearse what I wanted to say, but when the moment came, my voice would falter, or I would remain silent altogether. This quietness was not a choice, it was a shield I wore to protect myself from the embarrassment and shame of being seen. As I transitioned into the professional world, the impact of that childhood incident continued to resonate. I landed a teaching role in information technology (IT), a position that required me to speak in front of groups. I remember the sweat on my palms, the wobbly voice, and the racing heart as I addressed my students. Though I managed to get through it, each moment felt like a battle, and it was never truly enjoyable. Teaching became a challenge, not because of the content, but because of the fear that gripped me every time I stood in front of a room. This anxiety was amplified when I moved into a role in the pharmaceutical industry, where the pressure to perform was unbearable. Speaking to groups and persuading others was a fundamental part of the job, yet I found myself going out of my way to avoid these situations. I would skip meetings, dodge presentations, and seek any excuse to stay behind the scenes. This avoidance made my work life incredibly difficult, as I was trapped in a role where visibility was essential. It was during this time that I first encountered Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP). Initially, the company wanted us to use it to develop sales techniques, but I discovered a different application, managing my anxiety. NLP provided me with some wonderful tools to reframe my thoughts and control my responses, but it was never a complete fix. The trauma was still there, simmering beneath the surface, and while I learned to cope, I knew I had not fully healed. Over time, I grew more comfortable speaking in front of others, especially as I transitioned into teaching roles where I felt more in control of the environment. Yet there remained an underlying dread, a fear that would bubble up unexpectedly, a whirling washing machine of anxiety in my stomach. Despite my progress, the echoes of that childhood incident continued to reverberate through my life. It was only through the lens of compassion that I began to heal. I learned to extend kindness to my inner child, the child who had felt so alone in that moment. I embraced the fear, acknowledged it, and transformed it into a source of strength. Using compassion toward myself, toward my inner child, and toward all that came with those experiences was the only thing that truly shifted the narrative. It allowed me to reclaim my voice, not just for others to hear, but for myself to finally feel seen. The journey of healing: Compassion as the key Understanding the root of my fear was the first step toward healing. It began with a deep awareness, an acknowledgment of the problem that had silently shaped my life. I realised that the fear of being seen was not just a quirk, it was a pattern woven from years of unprocessed trauma. This awareness was not something I had always known, it emerged only when I began the Compassion Key clearing work, a journey of introspection that unearthed memories I had long buried. The school assembly incident, once forgotten, resurfaced as a powerful clue, a reminder of the moment when my fear first took root. In the stillness of breath, a sacred space arose where I could listen. It was here that the emergence of the wounded inner child occurred, the child who had collapsed in that school assembly, the child who felt unseen and unworthy. I began to have conversations with this part of myself, speaking gently and reassuringly, as I would to a dear friend or a frightened child. “You are safe now. You are seen. You are enough.” I want to acknowledge the amazing people on the Compassion Key journey who helped me create that sacred space to listen. Their wisdom, support, and shared experiences provided the foundation for my healing. Together, we cultivated an environment of understanding and compassion, making it possible for me to face the shadows of my past. Giving compassion to the wounded aspects of my being became a profound act of reclamation. I learned to embrace the shame, the embarrassment, and the loneliness, not as burdens to carry, but as stories that needed to be heard and understood. As the wounded child reintegrated into my consciousness, I felt as though a missing part of me had been rediscovered. But this trauma is just one thread in a larger tapestry. Each wounded aspect from my childhood, be it moments of misunderstanding, silent fears, or unspoken disappointments, is connected. They form a constellation of experiences that shaped my early world. Each piece carries its own story, its own pain, and its own wisdom. As I began to heal this particular wound, I realised that the others were not far behind. They, too, were calling for recognition, for compassion, for healing. It became clear that true integration means not only addressing one pain but embracing them all. It was as if the pieces of a broken mirror were finally coming together, reflecting a more complete and authentic image of who I am. Each story, once fragmented and hidden, now contributes to a fuller, richer narrative, a narrative of healing, wholeness, and resilience. I began to notice the changes. When I stood in front of a group, the overbearing feeling of fear, the worry, and the nausea that once gripped me began to fade. They were replaced by a sense of calm and clarity. Don’t get me wrong, those natural nerves that can be helpful when performing still lingered, but the crippling thought patterns were a thing of the past. The fear that had once paralysed me was no longer in control, it had been transformed into a source of energy that I could channel into my presentations. I realised that our emotions are all there to be felt. They are not the enemy, they are our allies. It is when they become stuck and take over unnecessarily that problems arise. I learned to feel those emotions fully, to give compassion to them, and to honour them as part of my journey. This practice of compassion is the best way I know to bring emotions back into a state of natural function, a state where they serve us rather than hinder us. Through this journey, I discovered that healing is not about erasing the past, it is about integrating it. It is about transforming fear into strength, shame into compassion, and silence into voice. In doing so, I reclaimed not only my voice but also my power to inspire others to do the same. Reclaiming the power of being seen Today, I stand before you not as someone defined by past trauma, but as a person who has transformed pain into purpose. My journey has taught me that our past does not define us, it shapes us. Through the lens of compassion, we can heal the wounds that once held us back. This trauma, the incident that seemed so small in the grand scheme of life, is not the worst people have experienced. Yet, it serves as a poignant example of how something we may have forgotten about can still impact us today. It reminds us that even the most seemingly trivial moments can leave lasting imprints on our psyche, shaping the way we navigate the world and interact with others. In my case, the echo of that school assembly reverberated through the years, influencing my social interactions and professional choices. It was a reminder that trauma does not always manifest in dramatic ways, sometimes, it lingers quietly, shaping our fears and insecurities without our conscious awareness. I may one day share with you further events from my childhood, events that rocked me to my core and challenged my sense of safety and belonging. Each of these moments has contributed to the tapestry of my life, each a thread woven into the fabric of who I am today. But this article is not just about my journey, it is an invitation for you to reflect on your own. Perhaps you, too, carry echoes of moments that still resonate within you. Perhaps there are experiences that have shaped your fears, your choices, and your voice. I want to share my experiences, what has helped me, and what may help you. Through compassion, we can reclaim our narratives. We can transform our wounds into wisdom and our fears into fuel for growth. By sharing our stories, we honour our journeys and create space for others to do the same. Together, we can break the silence that often surrounds trauma and empower one another to rise, to heal, and to be seen. Embrace the power of being seen, and let your voice resonate with the truth of who you are. Your story matters, and it has the potential to inspire healing in others. You are not alone on this journey. We are all in this together. Join me on the journey My journey has not made me a guru or the finished article, it has made me a fellow traveller, someone who has walked the path of transformation and emerged with insights that can light the way for others. If these words resonate with you, I invite you to work with me and explore the practices I’ve cultivated on my journey. From breath and meditation to compassionate listening and healing techniques, each experience is there to empower you to navigate your own path of transformation. How to connect You can find me here or follow my journey here. Whether you’re seeking guidance, inspiration, or simply a space to reflect, I’m here to share what I’ve learned. The possibilities ahead The journey of transformation is not a destination, it is a series of moments, each one a chance to awaken to your true self. Together, we can explore the depths of possibility, uncover the wisdom within, and create a life that reflects our highest potential. Join me, and let’s walk this path together. Follow me on Facebook, Instagram, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Richard Harrison Richard Harrison, Harmonic Resonance Guide Richard Harrison is a Harmonic Resonance Guide and the founder of Compassionate Breath, where he integrates compassion, stillness, and remembering to help individuals transform trauma into resilience. Through a unique blend of breath, sound, and symbolic geometry, he empowers others to reclaim their sovereignty and live authentically. Richard’s mission is to harmonise the human experience through coherence and compassion, offering transformative practices that resonate deeply with those seeking healing and alignment.

Written by April Michelle Ratchford, Occupational Therapist & Podcast Host April Ratchford, Occupational Therapist, Registered/Licensed, is an autistic occupational therapist and the voice behind Adulting with Autism. She supports neurodivergent adults across the world with relatable storytelling, lived wisdom, and empowering strategies for real-life challenges. Have you ever looked around and felt like everyone else's life is moving forward while yours is falling apart? Maybe you've failed at something important. Maybe your relationship ended. Maybe your child is struggling. Maybe your career isn't where you thought it would be. Maybe you're exhausted from constantly rebuilding after setback after setback. I know that feeling. For years, I believed life would eventually settle down if I worked hard enough, planned carefully enough, or simply pushed through one more challenge. What I've learned instead is that life rarely follows the script we write for it. If you're in a season where everything feels harder than it should, I want you to know something, your story is not over. The myth of the perfect life plan We're taught that life should move in a straight line. Graduate. Get the job. Build the career. Find the relationship. Buy the house. Live happily ever after. The problem is that real life doesn't work that way. Life is messy. Plans change. People leave. Dreams shift. Unexpected challenges show up without warning. The sooner we stop measuring ourselves against a perfect timeline, the sooner we can start appreciating our actual journey. What my life really looked like When people look at me today, they see an occupational therapist, podcast host, autism advocate, and mother of a college student. What they don't always see is everything that happened before that. At eighteen, I failed out of college. At twenty, I failed again. My mother believed in me enough to take out a private loan so I could attend nursing school. By twenty-two, I was a nurse. By twenty-six, I had my son, who was born with spina bifida. By twenty-nine, I found my mother dead. In my early thirties, I was fighting for autism services while being told my son wasn't autistic. Over the years, I survived divorce, homelessness, job loss, failing my occupational therapy boards by a single question, an abusive relationship, Child Protective Services (CPS) investigations, lung disease, coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19), autistic burnout, menopause, and watching my son struggle through college. There were moments when it felt like life kept knocking me down faster than I could get back up. Yet here I am. Resilience is not positive thinking One of the biggest misconceptions about resilience is that resilient people stay positive all the time. That's not resilience. Resilience isn't pretending everything is fine. Resilience is getting up after life knocks you on your ass. Again and again and again. There were times I was angry. Times I was exhausted. Times I wanted to quit. Times I questioned whether anything would ever improve. The goal wasn't to feel inspired every day. The goal was to take the next step. Sometimes that's all resilience really is. Disappointment does not mean failure Recently, I had to let go of a dream I had spent nearly a year planning. I was supposed to travel internationally. I had done the research. Bought the clothes. Planned the experiences. Then my son's educational funding situation changed, and helping him stay on track became the priority. I was disappointed. I was frustrated. I was angry. But disappointment isn't failure. Disappointment is evidence that something mattered. Too many people believe they have to pretend they're okay when they're not. You don't. Feel the disappointment. Acknowledge the loss. Just don't build a permanent home there. Sometimes the detour becomes the destination One of the lessons life keeps teaching me is that the path rarely looks the way we imagined. The opportunities that changed my life often arrived through setbacks I never wanted. Today, my son has another chance to continue his education. The podcast I started has grown to millions of downloads. I finally signed with an agency. I'm working fewer jobs than I once was. None of those victories happened according to my original plan. Every single one came through a detour. Every single one came after a setback. Every single one required me to keep moving when I wasn't sure where the road was leading. What I want you to remember If you're struggling right now, I want you to remember this, a bad chapter is not the end of the book. A failed semester is not the end of your education. A lost relationship is not the end of love. A career setback is not the end of your future. A disappointment is not the end of your story. Life is going to keep life-ing. There will be seasons that challenge everything you thought you knew about yourself. But if there's one thing I've learned after decades of setbacks, grief, burnout, and rebuilding, it's this, you are far more resilient than you think. Your story is still being written At fifty years old, I can tell you something with absolute certainty, the moments I thought would break me became the moments that built me. Not because they were easy. Not because I enjoyed them. But because I survived them. If you're standing in front of a closed door right now, keep moving. The next opportunity may not look like the one you lost. The next chapter may not resemble the one you planned. But your story is still being written. That means there is still hope. To learn more about autism, adulthood, transitions, and neurodivergent life, visit AdultingWithAutism.com and explore resources, coaching recommendations, and podcast episodes designed to help autistic young adults and families navigate life with confidence. Keep fierce. Keep focused. Keep adulting. Follow me on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from April Michelle Ratchford April Michelle Ratchford, Occupational Therapist & Podcast Host April Ratchford, Occupational Therapist, Registered/Licensed, is an autistic occupational therapist, writer, and global advocate for neurodivergent adults. As the creator and host of Adulting with Autism, an internationally ranked podcast with over two million downloads, she blends clinical expertise with real-life lived experience. April specializes in supporting autistic young adults as they transition into independence, higher education, and adult identity. She is known for her clear, empowering approach that makes complex neurodivergent challenges accessible and manageable. April is currently advancing her studies in neuroscience through King’s College London to further elevate her work in autistic well-being and adult development.

Written by Godelieve van der Leij, Experience Expert in Recovery Godelieve van der Leij has extensive lived experience in international business and recovery. Through her website and blog, both named The Surf of Life, she aims to support others throughout their recovery journeys and bridge the gap between business and mental health care. She is also actively involved in the Recovery Movement in the Netherlands. In my previous article, ‘Why The Surf of Life is Recovery Reinvented’, I briefly mentioned my lived experience with medication, therapy, loss, and grief during my recovery process. These are the first things that come to mind when people think of recovery from any life-altering experience, like being diagnosed with a chronic mental illness, as in my case, or maybe recovery from substance abuse for others. What does come to mind when we think of recovery? 1. A sad story, or ‘lived experience’? Recovery from a physical injury from sports, or getting over a long-term relationship that has come to an end, can take months, or even years, and leave its scars. There is no better or worse when it comes to recovery. Losing the old and learning to live with the new takes time and is hard work. There is simply no way to speed up the process, and it is different for everyone. But luckily, today the Recovery Movement is ever-growing, and more and more coaches and counsellors are stepping forward to support others during their recovery process. Related article: Summer Recovery – Why a Recovery Coach Can Be Your Greatest Ally It took me years to find the ‘right’ medication and the ‘right’ dose for me specifically. I saw two dozen therapists, coaches, psychologists, and psychiatrists over the course of a decade, if not more. Then there were the years of grieving over everything I had lost, over and over again. Not just jobs, but people, houses, and habitats too. Luckily, getting over a fallback (read: manic episode) goes faster today than it did at the beginning. I didn’t even know what bipolar disorder was when I woke up in the hospital that one summer day in August 2013, after my first episode. I had never even been in a hospital, well, maybe when my brother was born, or my grandma broke her arm years earlier. So, you can imagine my surprise when I woke up in an unfamiliar, bright white room (after weeks of sleepless nights and racing thoughts), a room that looked like the movies. I thought that was it. I must be dead, I thought, but I wasn’t. Related Article: Understanding Hypomania In Bipolar Disorder 2. A recovery process, not just medication and therapy What impacted my life most after I was diagnosed with Bipolar I Disorder was the constant overestimation by health care professionals. Since I was well educated and had significant work experience with large corporations, psychologists, psychiatrists, and business managers thought, ‘she’ll be fine’. I was, for a large part. I would still go to my appointments on time, and I even kept working for a while. I was able to articulate how I felt, organize my days around volunteer work, and live on my own. This apparent self-reliance was tricky, though. Even though I felt fine most of the time, it usually took a few weeks, and sometimes even months, before people around me noticed I was not okay. The thing is, when I slowly moved from a ‘normal’ state of mind to the hypomanic phase, followed by the manic phase, I felt great. Larger than life, even. My thoughts went fast, and I became more and more creative. But soon, this would turn into paranoia and sometimes even psychosis. This is when it started to show that something was wrong with me. I would be late for appointments because matching time and place had simply become impossible. One time, I even wrote on the wall at work and moved objects around in the hallways, like mannequins and business cards. ‘Ma’am, are you okay?’ the security guards asked me. My house would be covered with Post-its, think of that movie, A Beautiful Mind, by Ron Howard, starring Russell Crowe (2001). The most dangerous thing that ever happened was in the US. I lived in Oregon at the time and had access to three credit cards and a car. For some reason, I felt like driving, and I drove. For a week. All across the state, from national park to national park. In snowy conditions, because it was wintertime. My friends from the Dutch Club in town (Portland) had literally ‘lost’ me. They had to contact my brother in the Netherlands over Facebook to tell him, they had no idea where I was. Luckily, for some reason, I ended up back home after a week and found my way to my psychiatrist, who gave me the necessary medication. Human Resources (HR) at work gave me some forms and two weeks off, but after that, once again, I returned to work before I quit my career in International Business for good a year later. I remember my senior manager saying, ‘It’s just a job’, when I was bawling in her office because I had just quit. But to me, it was not just a job. It was a lifestyle, a dream, that had ended. I had to leave everything behind and go back to Europe. 3. From book smart to street-wise, the ‘double culture shock’ What really gave me a ‘double culture shock’ was the social declassification that came with being unemployed. I used to work for companies like Nike and IBM, which paid me good money for the work I did for them for years. But without that salary, my life completely changed. I had to move continents, cities, neighborhoods, and even into a group home for the mentally ill for a while. I couldn’t go on vacation to visit friends in the US anymore. I am out of money at least two days a week. I lost a great part of my network from university due to different lifestyles and a constant lack of money. Among my university friends, I am ‘the patient’, but among my fellow patients in long-term mental health care, I am the ‘elite’. I am better educated, well-spoken, and have learned skills in school and at work that they don’t have, as they ‘grew up’ in care. I am the outsider in both worlds. Not good enough for the ‘normal’ world. The ‘top of the food chain’ among the other ‘patients’. I get slightly better benefits (because I used to have a good job), am good at networking because of my work experience, and do well at my volunteer jobs. Constantly having to adjust my perspective about the future and reinvent myself over and over again in different living environments was, and still is, exhausting. But don’t feel sorry, I am not trying to complain. I wouldn’t be able to tell you these stories if I didn’t have this ‘lived experience’. 4. Peer support, we support each other Over the past few years, during my own recovery, I was a peer worker and facilitator at the local recovery college, offering a listening ear and mental support for others in recovery wherever possible. At first, this was in the common area, and later I told my story during lunch sessions, followed by a Q&A. Finally, I facilitated sessions where we shared our recovery stories through exercises, which helped. You feel less alone in what you have experienced, even though you might not have the same experiences. Life-altering events still mean letting go of the old and, step by step, learning to live with the new, whatever you have been through in your life. The great thing about peer support is that, unlike counselling or coaching, you do it together. I don’t just support my peers, we support each other. I don’t talk to my peers, I talk with them. Related article: The Benefits of Lived Experience Counselling Recovery reinvented So, to conclude, recovery is not a linear process, as I advocate through my Surf of Life theory. It is like a set of waves, sometimes you’re up, sometimes you’re down. So is life. Secondly, recovery these days is about much more than medication and therapy, especially when you were once high up on that wave and now you are down. Don’t ever think your current situation will be your situation forever. Tides change all the time in this ever-changing world. Luckily, peer support and the Recovery Movement are steadily growing globally by adding lived experience to the care package. What I am trying to do as an Experience Expert in Recovery is threefold at the moment: Support as many people as possible during their recovery process. Give people faith in their abilities to overcome. Promote and grow the Recovery Movement as a whole. So, have faith in your abilities to overcome, this too shall pass. When you have to recover from a life-altering experience (whether it is an illness, a broken relationship, or the end of a career), take your time. Let go of the old and learn to live with the new, it is a process, always. Follow me on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Godelieve van der Leij Godelieve van der Leij, Experience Expert in Recovery Godelieve van der Leij is a former IBM and Nike employee. After being diagnosed with a mental illness in 2013, she began working on her own recovery and became involved with the Recovery Movement. This experience inspired her to share the idea behind The Surf of Life, which compares life to a series of waves with its inevitable ups and downs. She is the founder, content manager, and author of the website and blog of the same name, which aims to “give people faith in their abilities to overcome.”

Kimberly Stokka Merendino, PhD, is a psychotherapist, writer, speaker, and nonprofit founder whose work explores what it means to remain fully alive through grief, uncertainty, caregiving, relationships, and life’s unexpected transitions. In this interview, she reflects on what more than two decades as a therapist and her own journey from clinician to caregiver have taught her about suffering, healing, enoughness, presence, and the quiet wisdom of ordinary life. Kimberly Stokka Merendino, Therapist Author & Nonprofit Founder How has your understanding of healing changed as you have moved between the roles of therapist, caregiver, writer, and nonprofit founder? I used to think about healing primarily as movement toward resolution. As a therapist, you are often helping people understand what happened, develop healthier patterns, repair relationships, or learn ways to cope with what cannot be changed. Then I became a caregiver, and healing became much less tidy. When my husband was diagnosed with stage IV lymphoma, there was no insight that could remove the uncertainty. There was no therapeutic intervention that could guarantee the outcome I desperately wanted. I began to understand healing less as fixing and more as learning how to remain present to life as it actually is. Writing has deepened that understanding, and founding PaRC Place has expanded it further. Sometimes healing means recovery. Sometimes it means acceptance, accompaniment, grieving, resting, or simply feeling safe enough not to hold everything together. I no longer think healing always means becoming who we were before something happened. Sometimes healing is discovering who we can become because we lived through it. After more than 25 years as a therapist, what has lived experience taught you about suffering that clinical training could not? Clinical training taught me a great deal about grief, trauma, relationships, family systems, and resilience. What it could not teach me was what uncertainty feels like at three o’clock in the morning when the person you love is seriously ill. When my husband was diagnosed with stage IV lymphoma, everything I understood intellectually became emotional. I learned how exhausting it is to live without answers. I learned that people can be grateful and terrified at the same time. I learned that strength is often much quieter than we imagine. Most importantly, I learned that people in pain do not always need someone to make meaning of their experience. Sometimes they need someone willing to stay beside them while there is no meaning yet. That changed me as a therapist. I am probably less interested now in finding the perfect thing to say and much more interested in helping people feel less alone. Suffering taught me that presence is not the consolation prize when we cannot fix something. Very often, presence is the gift. Where do you see people adding unnecessary suffering to pain that is already difficult enough? Life gives us plenty of pain that we do not choose: illness, loss, rejection, disappointment, aging, uncertainty, and change. Then we often add another layer. We tell ourselves we should be handling it better. We compare our grief to someone else’s. We believe we should already know the answer. We replay conversations, try to control outcomes, criticize ourselves for being tired, or decide that another person’s response determines our worth. That second layer is what fascinates me. Pain might say, “This relationship ended.” Unnecessary suffering says, “It ended because I wasn’t enough, and I will never be loved again.” Pain says, “I don’t know what will happen." Unnecessary suffering insists, “I have to figure this out right now.” We cannot eliminate the first kind of pain. I am not sure we would want to, much of it is part of loving and being human. But we can become more curious about the suffering we add. Sometimes freedom begins by asking, “What am I carrying that this moment never asked me to carry?” What do families facing a child’s life-limiting condition need that the traditional healthcare system often struggles to provide? Families need excellent medical care, of course, but they also need something medicine alone cannot provide–a place where the entire family is seen. When a child has a life-limiting condition, the diagnosis does not happen only to the child. It changes the rhythm of an entire household. Parents become caregivers and medical advocates. Siblings adapt around appointments and emergencies. Ordinary family life can begin to revolve around illness. Families need respite without guilt. They need emotional and spiritual support. They need people who understand anticipatory grief. They need opportunities to include siblings. They need environments where their child is recognized as a child first, not simply as a diagnosis. They also need permission to experience joy while living with something terribly difficult. That is part of the vision behind PaRC Place and Hayley House, the first home we plan to build. We want to create care that asks not only, “What does this child medically require?” but also, “What does this family need in order to continue being a family?” Those are different questions, and both matter. As you have developed the vision for Hayley House, what have you learned about supporting caregivers without losing sight of the family as a whole? One of the most important things I have learned is that caregiving rarely belongs to one person, even when one person carries most of the responsibility. Illness enters a family system. Everyone adjusts around it. The primary caregiver may be physically exhausted and emotionally overwhelmed, but partners, siblings, grandparents, and other family members are also experiencing their own versions of uncertainty, fear, grief, and change. That means supporting caregivers cannot simply mean telling them to practice better self-care. Sometimes the problem is not that a caregiver has forgotten to take a bath or go for a walk. The problem is that the family is carrying an enormous amount of responsibility with too little support. Respite matters because it gives families room to remember who they are beyond caregiving. The goal is not simply to help someone endure more. Sometimes the most compassionate intervention is making sure they don't have to carry so much in the first place. When someone is caught in perfectionism or constant striving, what helps them recognize that their worth is not tied to achievement? I think the first step is noticing how often we move the finish line. We tell ourselves we will finally feel settled when we finish the degree, get the promotion, lose the weight, raise successful children, earn enough money, help enough people, or accomplish whatever happens to sit next on the list. Then we arrive, and almost immediately create another finish line. For much of my own life, I quietly believed I was moving toward enough. Enough education. Enough experience. Enough accomplishment. Eventually, I began asking a different question, "What if enough was never something I needed to achieve?" That does not mean giving up ambition or growth. I still love learning, creating, building, and contributing. The difference is that those things no longer have to determine my worth. They can become expressions of a life that is already enough. That distinction changes everything. We can still grow without treating the person we are today as a problem that needs to be solved. How can people become more present in ordinary life without needing a crisis to show them what matters? I wish I could say we always learn this before the crisis. Often we do not. A serious illness has a way of making ordinary things suddenly feel sacred: drinking coffee together, sitting on the porch, hearing someone laugh from another room, waking up beside someone you love. But we do not have to wait for tragedy to begin paying attention. Presence is often much smaller than people imagine. It may mean leaving your phone in another room while you have dinner. Sitting outside for ten minutes without accomplishing anything. Noticing the light through a window. Listening to someone without preparing your response. Last Tuesday, I spent an ordinary day with my family. We talked, ate together, laughed, and simply spent time in one another's company. Nothing extraordinary happened. That was precisely the point. Life is happening while we are waiting for something important to happen. The practice is not creating more meaningful moments. It is becoming available to the ones already here. You describe yourself as a “student of ordinary life.” What has ordinary life taught you about joy and enoughness? Ordinary life has taught me that joy is much less dramatic than I once imagined. It is rarely fireworks. More often, it is coffee in a favorite mug. A dog asleep nearby. Dinner with people I love. Light coming through the trees. A conversation that lasts longer than expected. Someone reaching for my hand. For years, I think I treated ordinary life as the space between important events. I was moving toward the next milestone, accomplishment, trip, celebration, or goal. Now I wonder whether I had it backward. Perhaps the milestones are punctuation marks. The ordinary days are the story. Enoughness has become similar for me. It is not the moment when everything is complete, and nothing more is required. I do not think that moment exists. Enough is recognizing that this imperfect, unfinished life is still worthy of being fully inhabited. The older I get, the less interested I am in waiting for extraordinary circumstances before allowing myself to experience an extraordinary amount of gratitude. What would you encourage someone to lay down today if they want to live with more presence, connection, and hope? I would invite them to lay down one impossible job. Maybe it is making everyone happy. Maybe it is earning your worth. Maybe it is controlling something that was never yours to control. Maybe it is rescuing everyone you love, never disappointing anyone, knowing what comes next, or carrying an old version of yourself because someone else is more comfortable with who you used to be. We accumulate these impossible jobs quietly. Eventually, we can mistake them for responsibilities. They are not. Ask yourself, “What am I carrying because I genuinely value it, and what am I carrying because I am afraid of what will happen if I put it down?” Those answers can be very different. Laying something down does not mean we stop caring. Often it allows us to care more freely. Life will bring enough weight of its own. We do not need to manufacture more. Sometimes hope begins not by adding something new to our lives, but by finally releasing something we were never meant to carry. Follow me on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Kimberly Stokka Merendino

Written by Sophie Anderson, Burnout Prevention Specialist, Creator of AMBP™, Coach, Speaker & Author Sophie Anderson is an ICF-certified coach, speaker, author, podcast host, and the creator of The Anderson Model of Burnout Prevention™ (AMBP). After 25 years working in high-pressure corporate roles, Sophie knows exactly what it feels like to juggle huge workloads, constant pressure, and burnout creeping up. She now helps busy professionals worldwide protect their energy, manage their workload better, and avoid burning out. University lecturers are telling allied health and healthcare students to prepare to burn out, as if it's simply part of the job. It's not true, and telling anyone that burnout is inevitable is doing real harm. Here's what they actually need to hear instead, and why the difference matters more than you'd think. "Just prepare to burn out" Lecturers are telling students to prepare for burnout. You will burn out. It's part of the career. One student, an osteopath, told me their lecturer at least had them read a book on burnout and write a dissertation on how to lower its effects. That part is genuinely great. But the framing underneath it isn't. Telling someone entering their career that burnout is inevitable is not preparation. It's a prophecy, and it's an unnecessary and incorrect one. Here's what students, and honestly all of us, actually need to hear, you might need to be in burnout prevention mode for your whole life. Not because burnout is coming for you regardless, but because prevention, done consistently, is what stops it from arriving at all. Rachel Rachel leads a team of 220 people. Like other leaders in her team, she believes burnout just comes with the role. She's depleted, yet she's still doing everything. She doesn't take leave. She still says yes to covering someone's shift. She bakes the cupcakes for her kid's school event. Her house is clean, her makeup is spotless, and her office is always tidy. She answers messages outside work hours. She works overtime. When she's sick, she works from home. She’s reliable, hard-working, praised, and utterly exhausted. In coaching, what Rachel wants to achieve is to live well alongside burnout. How do I burn out without it wrecking my whole life? She has already decided burnout is part of her life, and her only question left is how to live with it without too much damage. That's what I want to change because I have a lot of respect and admiration for people who are so caring and dedicated that they get there. What burnout actually is Real burnout isn't being exhausted, cynical, and at capacity. It's a mind and body collapse. Complete cognitive and emotional impairment, exhaustion so total that normal rest doesn't touch it, and sometimes physically collapsing and needing medical care. It can mean not being able to get out of bed. It's a very scary place to be, and recovery can take months, sometimes years. Think about what "burnt out" means elsewhere. A light globe that's burnt out isn't dim or flickering, and a rocket that's burnt out has used every bit of fuel it had. That's the true meaning. Most people who feel like Rachel, depleted and stretched to capacity, are not there. That's genuinely good news because it means there is still a lot they can do. The three zones, and why "prevention mode for life" is the point The Anderson Model of Burnout Prevention™ (AMBP) maps how burnout actually builds, in three predictable zones that stack on top of each other rather than replacing one another. Activation comes first. High output, high engagement, and stress starting to show while everything still looks fine from the outside. Over-functioning comes next, where work comes before everything else. Coping strategies are overused to stay afloat, and we become hypervigilant. In these two zones, we call it high-functioning burnout, or invisible burnout. Depletion is the third zone, and it's where most existing burnout conversations actually start. No energy. Unusual errors. Isolation. Panic attacks. This is what most people mean when they say they're burnt out. But it isn't burnout. It's the zone right before it, you've hit a wall and you keep climbing it anyway. Burnout itself sits beyond all three. It's the threshold we absolutely want to avoid. That's why I say that we need to be in prevention mode for our whole working life, lowering demands and building resources isn't a project with an end date, it's an ongoing practice, especially the moment you notice yourself more stressed than usual, more reactive than usual, working non-stop, or telling yourself it will pass on its own. That's what the students in those lectures need to hear. Not "you will burn out," but "you can stay in prevention mode for as long as your career lasts. That's a skill to be learnt." Why the diagnosis itself is subjective Most of the "X% of people are burnt out" headlines lean on the Maslach Burnout Inventory (MBI), a self-report tool built by Christina Maslach and Susan Jackson in 1981 (Maslach & Jackson, 1981). Maslach and her colleagues have since said that it was designed as a research tool, not a clinical diagnostic one (Maslach, Leiter & Schaufeli, 2008), and the diagnostic cut-off scores were removed from the official manual in 2016 for having no diagnostic validity (Maslach, Jackson & Leiter, 2016). A 2024 paper by researchers Bianchi, Swingler, and Schonfeld goes even further, arguing the MBI isn't a measure of burnout at all (Bianchi, Swingler & Schonfeld, 2024a), and that true burnout prevalence is very hard to pin down given how inconsistently it's defined across studies (Bianchi, Swingler & Schonfeld, 2024b). None of this means burnout isn't real. It means the number on the headline represents people's perception of burnout but includes a lot of individuals who can still turn things around. Rachel, catching herself Rachel's turning point came the moment she noticed herself in the Over-functioning zone, the zone she's now most wary of because she never wants to see Depletion again. She built boundaries and held them. When she says she's finishing at a set time, she finishes then. She plans her days. She allows herself breaks despite putting fires out all day. She has become a role model for her team. Rachel isn't cured. She's not immune. She's just in prevention mode all the time, and it's working. It's not just the workplace, and it's not just self-care The usual narrative lands in one of two places, it's entirely the workplace's fault, or the fix is more self-care and a good holiday. Both are part of the picture. Neither is the whole picture. Workplaces genuinely can pile on demands and strip away resources. Rest and real self-care genuinely help rebuild them. But plenty of the imbalance comes from inside us too. Perfectionism that won't let good enough be good enough. Saying yes when we mean no. Being offered leave and not taking it because we don't want to let the team down. Knowing we need to change jobs, or ask for a demotion, and not doing it because it feels like failure. Those are demands we place on ourselves, and no policy or bubble bath fixes them without us looking at them directly and taking control. Why this matters My problem with "we're all burnt out" isn't that it's dramatic. It's that it makes people less resourceful because it convinces them they've already reached the end when they haven't. That's the opposite of what I want for anyone reading this, including every student being told to just brace for it. This isn't about anyone being wrong. It's an invitation. If you catch yourself in Activation or Over-functioning, that's not a problem to be ashamed of. It's the easiest possible moment to do something about it. Nothing means you're guaranteed to burn out. Bring awareness to your own signs, make small changes early, and you will change the outcome. Frequently asked questions What's the difference between being depleted and being burnt out? Depletion is hitting a wall and still climbing it, still functioning, even though it's genuinely hard. Burnout is the body and mind forcing a complete stop. One is a serious warning sign. The other is a full shutdown. Is the Maslach Burnout Inventory a reliable diagnostic tool? It's a well-researched self-report measure, but its own developers describe it as a research tool, not a clinical diagnostic one, and its diagnostic cut-off scores were removed from the official manual in 2016 for lacking diagnostic validity. Why do burnout statistics vary so much between reports? Different surveys measure different things, from lifetime prevalence to current self-reported exhaustion, with inconsistent definitions, perceptions, and scoring. There is no universal definition and no clinical diagnostic for burnout. I'm exhausted but still functioning. Am I burnt out? Probably not yet. Exhaustion that hasn't tipped into complete physical and cognitive collapse is more likely to be Over-functioning or Depletion, both of which still leave real room to turn things around. I invite you to start with a visit to your qualified health or medical practitioner to rule out any medical or mental illness, then contact me for support. Can burnout be prevented once you're already exhausted? Yes. Prevention is possible right up until the system fully shuts down. The earlier you can name which zone you're actually in, the smaller the load and the more options you have. Where to go from here This isn't about me being right and everyone else being wrong. It's about giving you and every Rachel out there the language to see exactly where you stand, and the belief that there's still a lot you can do about it. Explore the Anderson Model of Burnout Prevention™ (AMBP) at sophieanderson.au, or come listen to my podcast, No Time for Burnout, where I go deep on exactly this. Follow me on Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn for more info! Read more from Sophie Anderson Sophie Anderson, Burnout Prevention Specialist, Creator of AMBP™, Coach, Speaker & Author Sophie Anderson is an ICF-certified coach, speaker, author, and podcast host. She is the creator of The Anderson Model of Burnout Prevention™ (AMBP), an evidence-based model that helps people understand the predictable steps toward burnout, and more importantly, the protective practices that build genuine resilience and keep us well long-term. She is currently writing a book called “No Time for Burnout” about this. Sophie delivers keynotes, workshops and coaching programs for organisations that want to protect their people from burnout while supporting engagement and productivity. She also works privately with professionals who feel the pressure building and want practical ways to regain clarity, confidence, energy and balance. References: Bianchi, R., Swingler, G., & Schonfeld, I. S. (2024a). The Maslach Burnout Inventory is not a measure of burnout. WORK: A Journal of Prevention, Assessment & Rehabilitation. Bianchi, R., Swingler, G., & Schonfeld, I. S. (2024b). Burnout: Fifty years later. Workplace Health & Safety, 72(8), 354. Maslach, C., & Jackson, S. E. (1981). The measurement of experienced burnout. Journal of Organizational Behavior, 2(2), 99–113. Maslach, C., Jackson, S. E., & Leiter, M. P. (2016). Maslach Burnout Inventory Manual (4th ed.). Mind Garden. Maslach, C., Leiter, M. P., & Schaufeli, W. B. (2008). Measuring burnout. In C. L. Cooper & S. Cartwright (Eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Organizational Well-Being (pp. 86–108). Oxford University Press. Anderson, S. (2025). The Anderson Model of Burnout Prevention™ (AMBP).

Written by Fanny Elizaga, Certified Trauma-Centered Neuro-Coach and SD Transformational Coach Fanny Elizaga is an occupational therapist, mindfulness practitioner and trainer, Reiki Master Practitioner, and certified Qigong instructor. Over the years, she has embraced her passion for learning, applying, and teaching holistic approaches to mind-body healing in both her personal and professional life. The way we speak to ourselves can shape how we respond to stress, mistakes, and difficult emotions. By replacing harsh self-criticism with self-compassion, we can create more space for calm, clearer thinking, and emotional resilience. Have you ever noticed how quickly your inner critic shows up when something doesn't go as planned? You make a mistake, forget something important, lose your patience, miss a deadline, or simply have one of those days when everything feels harder than it should. Before you know it, that familiar voice begins. "Why can't I ever get it right?" "I should have known better." "What's wrong with me?" Sound familiar? Most of us don't realize how much those quiet conversations shape the way we feel. Your brain is always listening. It doesn't distinguish between criticism coming from someone else and criticism coming from your own inner voice. Harsh self-talk can be experienced as a threat, activating stress responses that make it even harder to think clearly, solve problems, or move forward. Ironically, the very strategy we often use to motivate ourselves can leave us feeling anxious, discouraged, or stuck. So, please don't beat yourself up. Instead, offer yourself a little kindness. It may seem like a small change, but it can have a powerful effect on both your mind and your nervous system. Imagine trying to solve a difficult problem while someone is constantly criticizing you. That's often what we do to ourselves. A little kindness creates the emotional space for the brain to settle, think more clearly, and begin again. One of the most fascinating discoveries in neuroscience is that self-compassion isn't simply a "feel-good" practice. It actually influences the way our brain and nervous system respond to stress. Try this simple practice: The next time you notice anxiety, shame, or self-criticism beginning to take over, pause. Slow down and take a few deep breaths. Then offer yourself a soothing self-hug, gently massaging your arms or shoulders. Choose a form of touch that feels comfortable and reassuring, and give your mind and body a chance to feel a little safer and calmer. Acknowledge what you're feeling without trying to fix it. You don't have to make the difficult feelings disappear. You simply begin changing the relationship you have with them. The next time life doesn't go as planned, pay attention to the first words you offer yourself. They have the power to either deepen the wound or begin the healing. If this article resonated with you, you'll find more brain-based insights and practical strategies for living with greater calm, clarity, and self-understanding in my new ebook, "Living Mindfully with Neurodiversity: Brain-Based Strategies to Reduce Stress, Build Confidence, and Practice Self-Care." Click here to download my free ebook. Follow me on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Fanny Elizaga Fanny Elizaga, Certified Trauma-Centered Neuro-Coach and SD Transformational Coach Fanny Elizaga is an occupational therapist, certified Neuro-Coach, and trauma-informed mindfulness trainer. Over the years, she has embraced her passion for learning and applying holistic modalities for mind-body healing in her personal and professional life. Fanny is also a Reiki master practitioner and certified instructor in the art of Qi-Gong. Fanny inspires, empowers, and educates her clients by teaching brain-enhancing tools for self-improvement, expanding out of their comfort zone, and thriving. Fanny is an occupational therapist, mindfulness practitioner and trainer, and the founder of Neuro-Wellness Academy. She is passionate about transforming lives by teaching practical brain science for greater wellness, resilience, and personal transformation. Sources: Neff KD. Self-Compassion: Theory, Method, Research, and Intervention. Annu Rev Psychol. 2023 Jan 18;74:193-218. doi: 10.1146/annurev-psych-032420-031047. Epub 2022 Aug 12. PMID: 35961039. Neff, K. D. & Germer, C. (2017). Self-Compassion and Psychological Wellbeing. In J. Doty (Ed.), Oxford Handbook of Compassion Science, Ch. 27. Oxford University Press.

Written by Elliot Ross Surgenor, Visionary Entrepreneur and Founder Elliot Ross Surgenor is the founder and CEO of Fly Business Aviation, with operational bases in Miami, Scottsdale, and Cabo. With a background in media, entrepreneurship, and luxury aviation, he specializes in elevating private travel through innovation and exceptional client service. I have never finished a 60-minute meeting and thought, I wish we'd booked 90. I have, however, left plenty wondering why seven people needed to be there, why something that could have been decided in ten minutes took an hour, and whether the whole thing could have been replaced by a reasonably coherent voice note. Running a business in private aviation has probably made me less patient about this than I otherwise would be. Aviation requires constant communication. A single trip can involve pilots, operations, maintenance, a fixed-base operator (FBO), ground transportation, catering, and the client, often with plans changing in real time. Weather moves, departure times change, a passenger wants to leave earlier, or an aircraft needs attention. When something genuinely needs to happen, there is usually very little confusion about why people are talking. Several people can resolve a real operational issue in five minutes because the conversation has a clear outcome. Then you return to normal business life and somehow spend an hour discussing whether another meeting is needed. That contrast has always amused me. Most people I know complain about having too many meetings, yet our response to almost every new situation is to schedule one. Something isn't clear, so we meet. Someone has an idea, so we meet. We need to make a decision, so we invite everybody who might conceivably have an opinion. If two people missed the first meeting, we schedule another one to explain what happened in the meeting they missed. At some point, collaboration became almost synonymous with calendars full of rectangles. The problem isn't that meetings are inherently bad. Some conversations absolutely need to happen in real time. The problem is that we have stopped being particularly selective about which ones do. Talking about work can feel a lot like doing work Meetings are comforting because they look productive. Everyone is present, people are talking, notes are being taken, and somebody is usually sharing a screen. If things are going particularly well, there may even be a spreadsheet involved. From the outside, something is clearly happening. Whether anything is actually moving forward is another question. You can spend 45 minutes discussing a problem and leave with exactly the same problem, except now there are meeting notes. You can spend half an hour deciding who should make a decision. You can invite ten people because each person knows one piece of the story, only to discover that nobody actually owns the outcome. Of course, you can finish by agreeing that the subject needs further discussion next week. Aviation gives you a relatively low tolerance for this because outcomes are difficult to fake. The aircraft either leaves or it doesn't. The car is either waiting, or it isn't. The crew is either available or it isn't. If the client changes the departure time, somebody has to work out what that changes. There is a useful clarity to that. In other parts of business, it is surprisingly easy to talk around something for several weeks and still feel as though everybody has been very busy. This is also why I don't think the solution is simply “fewer meetings.” Sometimes, getting the right people into the same conversation is by far the fastest way to solve something. If a client changes a flight at short notice and that affects crew duty time, the airport, the aircraft, and perhaps the trip that follows, I don't want twenty separate messages moving around between people. I want the relevant people to speak, understand the problem and make a decision. Five minutes can be enough. That is what real-time communication is good at. The problem is using the same tool for everything. If somebody is giving me information, I probably don't need a meeting. If they need a simple yes or no, we probably don't need one either. If it is a status update that requires no discussion, there is a very good chance I could read it in an email in a fraction of the time. This is where my slightly provocative theory comes in. Your meeting probably should have been a voice note. I say that partly as a joke, but only partly. A two-minute message saying, “Here's what happened, here's what I recommend, and I need your answer on these two things,” can sometimes achieve everything a 30-minute call was supposed to accomplish. The point isn't voice notes specifically. It is matching the form of communication to the problem instead of automatically reaching for everybody's calendar. Collaboration can become an excuse Another part of meeting culture I find more interesting has less to do with efficiency and more to do with responsibility. Not everybody needs to be involved in everything. That sounds obvious, but businesses are remarkably good at forgetting it. We often invite people because it feels collaborative, because someone might have an opinion, or simply because it is easier politically than deciding who actually needs to be there. There is an important difference between keeping somebody informed and requiring their participation. A person can understand a decision without sitting through the entire conversation that produced it. Sometimes ten perspectives genuinely make a decision better. Sometimes they give you ten new ways to complicate something that was relatively straightforward in the first place. The fastest way to slow down a perfectly good decision is to make absolutely sure everyone has the opportunity to contribute. Occasionally, I think meetings exist for an even simpler reason. Nobody wants to make the decision. A meeting spreads responsibility. Instead of one person saying yes or no, seven people discuss. Instead of choosing a direction, we “align.” Instead of committing to something, we gather additional input. That additional input creates a few more questions, so everyone agrees to reconvene next Thursday. Nobody has made the wrong decision, which is comforting. Nobody has made any decision either. There is a point where more discussion stops improving the outcome and starts postponing it. Good organizations need collaboration, but they also need people who are willing to eventually say, “We've heard enough. This is what we're doing.” Meetings are more expensive than they look There is also a practical cost to all of this that we rarely calculate. A one-hour meeting with eight people is not really a one-hour meeting. It is eight working hours before you even account for the time around it. There is the person who avoids starting a complicated task because they have a call in twelve minutes. There is the person who needs another fifteen minutes afterward to get back into what they were doing. There is the employee who sits through 52 minutes of a conversation because eight minutes might eventually concern them. Because meetings appear on a calendar rather than an invoice, we tend not to think of them as expensive. Imagine if every time you clicked “Send invitation,” a warning appeared saying, “Estimated organizational cost, 11 working hours.” I suspect quite a few agendas would suddenly become much shorter. None of this means meetings should disappear. Some of the most useful meetings I have been in have been difficult, messy or longer than expected. What made them useful was that everyone had a genuine reason to be there. A decision had to be made, a real problem needed solving, two people genuinely disagreed, or something had changed and the plan needed to change with it. Those conversations feel different because when they finish, something is different from when they began. That may be the simplest test. Did we make a decision? Did we understand something we didn't understand before? Did we solve a problem? Does somebody leave knowing exactly what happens next? If the answer to all of those questions is no, it is probably worth asking what the meeting was for. Communication is essential in my business. Poor communication can ruin a trip long before the passenger reaches the aircraft. But good communication doesn't mean everybody talking all the time. Sometimes the right answer is a meeting. Sometimes it is a five-minute call. Sometimes it is three bullet points in an email. Yes, sometimes it really is the voice note. Before putting another rectangle on six people's calendars, there is one question worth asking, "What needs to happen here that cannot happen more easily another way?" If there is a good answer, book the meeting. If there isn't, don't. Because a good meeting moves the work forward. A bad one simply pauses the work while everyone talks about it. Follow me on Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Elliot Ross Surgenor Elliot Ross Surgenor, Visionary Entrepreneur and Founder Elliot Ross Surgenor is a leading entrepreneur in private aviation and the founder of Fly Business Aviation, based in Miami, Scottsdale, and Cabo. With a background in media and international business development, he has built a company known for its innovation, personalized service, and refined operational standards. Elliot also leads Lusso Jet Design and Air Dining Cabo, subsidiaries focused on luxury jet interiors and in-flight catering. His expertise spans brand strategy, client experience, and aviation operations. He also hosts a podcast exploring leadership and the future of the industry. Passionate about giving back, Elliot supports philanthropic efforts, including initiatives for children in need.

Written by Angelika Attwood, Creative Director & Founder Angelika Attwood is the Creative Director and Founder of DjE’KA Marketing, known for her sharp approach to neuromarketing and creative business-to-business (B2B) strategy. With an extensive background in advertising and marketing, she focuses on the key psychological triggers that drive human behaviour, interaction, and conversion. Over the years in the business-to-business (B2B) environment, I have noticed a persistent delusion across executive levels: the belief that B2B marketing operates in a realm of pure, unadulterated rationality. C-level executives almost always try to sell enterprise products in a way they themselves would never buy. The irony lies in their blind belief that enterprise investments are evaluated purely on clear financial models and objective risk mitigation, while their own procurement processes look like a battlefield. Our humanness doesn’t shed the moment we enter the office or log into a LinkedIn account. While B2B decision-making differs fundamentally from consumer procurement journeys, the nature of personal risk operates on the exact same crucial dimension. When buying a consumer product, we risk our own capital for personal gratification. When procuring an enterprise solution, an executive spends institutional capital but collateralises their own professional reputation and peer standing. In simple terms, nobody fears buying the wrong pair of shoes, but every executive quietly dreads becoming "that guy" who signed off on a failed £10 million Enterprise Resource Planning (ERP) transformation. To capture attention and dictate choice in high-stakes B2B environments, marketers must cease relying on dry value propositions. Instead, we should deploy targeted sensory and cognitive anomalies that bypass intellectual gatekeeping to engage the subconscious professional ego. Here is how to execute this strategy. The professional persona and the threat of social extinction As people living in society, we maintain a rigid functional bifurcation between our social personality and our professional persona. Interpersonal friction in everyday life is mediated by social politeness, we are more likely to tolerate a child's behavioural outburst without severe confrontation. In the corporate hierarchy, however, judgment is silent and permanent. Our professional persona is a calibrated defence mechanism designed to navigate power dynamics and avoid institutional expulsion. Enterprise decision makers rarely buy to achieve optimal gains, instead, they buy to prevent professional ruin. Their primary driver is not efficiency, but the subconscious terror of reputational exposure. Because enterprise decisions involve spending money that is not theirs, buyers do not feel the immediate pain of financial loss. Instead, they feel the threat of accountability. B2B messaging that speaks exclusively to logical features or abstract return on investment fails to pierce the defensive armour of the corporate persona. To command genuine priority, a message must engage implicit social cognition and sensory threat detection mechanisms. Disturbing imagery and flashbulb memory mechanics Standard enterprise marketing is aggressively forgettable. Corporate websites, slideshows, and white papers are filled with sanitised stock photography of smiling teams and bullet points. Marketers overlook the fact that our brains naturally filter out predictable visual stimuli through visual habituation. To break through this cognitive clutter, B2B brands must induce what neurobiologists call a flashbulb memory effect. Originally documented by Brown and Kulik (1977), flashbulb memories are highly detailed, exceptionally vivid snapshot memories formed during events of high emotional arousal and unexpectedness. At a neural level, emotional shock triggers a surge of norepinephrine from the locus coeruleus, activating the amygdala and hyper-consolidating hippocampal memory encoding.[1] When a decision maker encounters a headline or image that breaks the corporate pattern, it triggers a "brain on shock" response, causing them to register the anomaly instantly. That unexpected visual shock floods their brain with norepinephrine, firing up the threat detection centre. As a result, instead of glossing over another generic visual, the executive's brain freezes, treats your pitch as a high-priority event, and permanently locks the brand's message into long-term memory. Neurocognitive mechanism: Visual dissonance At DjE'KA, our agency brand identity is built on Dzika ("wild" in Polish), a neuro B2B marketing framework engineered to break corporate visual boredom through targeted psychological triggers. We pair near-disturbing imagery with rich Slavic motifs, triggering a micro-trauma in the reader's visual cortex. The brain halts visual processing, registers an anomaly, and instantly attaches high cognitive priority to the accompanying text. Our positioning intentionally blends near-disturbing visual iconography with deep Slavic heritage, leveraging raw, archaic motifs, stark high-contrast framing, visual asymmetry, and folkloric symbolism. This aesthetic acts as a sensory shock in a landscape of corporate visual mediocrity. It forces the executive to pause, process the visceral discomfort, and evaluate the core message. Synthesising safety: The exposure familiarity loop While shocking visual stimuli capture immediate attention, they must be counterbalanced by cognitive safety mechanisms. High-risk enterprise buyers will not commit institutional funds to a vendor perceived as unhinged or unpredictable. Here lies the strategic synthesis of the Mere Exposure Effect and the Familiarity Heuristic. Zajonc’s Mere Exposure Effect (1968) proves that repeated, non-reinforced exposure to a stimulus increases an individual's affective preference for it. However, in B2B marketing, mere repetition of a brand logo might be insufficient. By pairing it with Tversky and Kahneman’s Familiarity Heuristic, individuals assume that if an item is familiar, it possesses higher value, safety, and operational reliability.[2] The B2B safety paradox Disruption gets you into the executive's conscious mind, but familiarity makes you the defensible choice. When a Chief Executive Officer (CEO) must justify a vendor choice to the board, they require an option that feels both cutting edge and implicitly safe. An enterprise example: The shock: A Chief Information Security Officer (CISO) sees an unconventional, pattern-disturbing ad. It shocks them, breaking visual habituation. The repetition: Over eight weeks, the CISO sees this campaign across LinkedIn, trade publications, and executive newsletters. The messaging shifts, but the typographic layout, aesthetic, and sharp tone remain identical. The repeated exposure makes the brand feel ubiquitous. The heuristic: When an unpredicted breach hits a competitor, the CISO needs to present a new security vendor to the board. Faced with two unknown vendors and this one, their brain applies the heuristic: If I recognise this brand's structure instantly, they must be established, reliable, and safe. By pairing disruptive visual hooks with a predictable, familiar framework, you convert raw attention into a defensible, board-ready choice. When an aggressive visual stimulus, a flashbulb visual, is delivered across multiple touchpoints using consistent underlying linguistic structures, the message transitions rapidly from a disruptive novelty to a "safe harbour" option. The buyer’s brain processes the recurring structure with high perceptual fluency. In neuroscience, high perceptual fluency is automatically misattributed by the brain as safety, truth, and low operational risk. For instance, a supply chain software provider utilises bold, unconventional advertising layouts across specialised industry journals. While the copy topics rotate, the structural architecture and typographic rhythm remain rigid and familiar. Over twelve weeks, targeted Chief Supply Chain Officers are exposed to the brand seven times across discrete professional environments. When a supply crisis hits, the vendor is selected for an Request for Proposal (RFP) because their brand has been transformed into a psychologically safe option. The decision maker can recommend them to the board without risking reputational damage. Chemosensory communication and scent-induced pattern completion Perhaps the most controversial and underutilised frontier in executive persuasion is olfactory social perception and chemosensory communication. While modern office environments and digital sales channels attempt to sterilise sensory inputs, human evolutionary biology remains profoundly tethered to olfactory cues. Research by Pause (2012) and de Groot et al. (2014) demonstrates that human chemosignals communicate emotional and social states directly to the recipient's limbic system, completely bypassing conscious visual or auditory processing. Olfactory inputs possess a unique direct pathway to the hippocampus and amygdala, enabling powerful pattern completion in memory retrieval.[3] [4] Pattern completion occurs when a small sensory fragment of an original memory cue reactivates the entire neural network associated with a complex autobiographical episode, reinstating the exact emotional state previously experienced. In high-stakes B2B interactions, physical collateral, such as contract proposals or executive invitation kits, infused with subtle, sophisticated chemosensory cues, such as specific synthetic notes mimicking aged leather, cedarwood, or subtle ambient chemosignals, establishes a distinct sensory anchor. When the executive encounters that specific olfactory signature in a subsequent physical meeting or pitch environment, the brain instantly executes pattern completion, reinstating the feelings of authority, gravity, and trust established during initial exposure. Associative memory networks and thin slice implicit judgments Our memory does not operate like an organised digital file archive. Instead, it behaves as an interconnected associative neural web governed by Spreading Activation Theory.[5] When a specific sensory node is stimulated, electrical activation spreads along labelled pathways to adjacent semantic and autobiographical concepts. This biological reality explains the phenomenon of executive "gut feelings." What a CEO calls an intuitive instinct is simply a Thin Slice Judgment, a rapid, implicit social cognition executed by the subconscious mind within milliseconds of encountering a subtle sensory cue.[6] "An executive does not evaluate a vendor pitch through linear logic. They make an instantaneous thin slice assessment within 100 milliseconds, then spend the remaining 59 minutes using rational data to justify their subconscious conclusion." If a B2B campaign provides a single high-potency sensory cue, it can activate an entire autobiographical episode of professional authority or acute problem recognition. By deliberately embedding micro cues into pitch materials, executive correspondence, and digital touchpoints, marketers can dictate the exact associative web that fires when a buyer evaluates their brand. Strategic summary for B2B leadership To win in an increasingly automated enterprise landscape, CEOs and marketing leaders must abandon the comfortable lie of rational-only decision-making. To capture true market mindshare: Deploy emotional shockwaves: Utilise visual dissonance and culturally distinct, high-contrast imagery to generate flashbulb memories that break cognitive habituation. Build fluency to mitigate risk: Pair disruptive visuals with rigid, familiar messaging frameworks to construct a psychologically "safe" choice for risk-averse buyers. Leverage multimodal anchors: Integrate physical, chemosensory, and subtle visual cues to trigger pattern completion during critical deal milestones. Design for thin slice approval: Structure every executive touchpoint to win instantaneous implicit judgments, allowing data to serve its true role as post-decision justification. Follow me on Instagram and LinkedIn for more info! Read more from Angelika Attwood Angelika Attwood, Creative Director & Founder A creative mind decoding what actually drives human decision-making. With a strong background in advertising and marketing, she brings a sharp, strategic edge to understanding behaviour, persuasion, and conversion at scale. She focuses on the psychological and emotional triggers behind attention and action, turning behavioural insight into bold, creative strategies that move brands forward. Known for her clarity of thinking and leadership in the space, she bridges creativity and neuroscience to shape marketing that performs, not just communicates. Academic and research references: [1] Brown, R., & Kulik, J. (1977). Flashbulb memories. Cognition, 5(1), 73 to 99. [2] Zajonc, R. B. (1968). Attitudinal effects of mere exposure. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 9(2p2), 1 to 27. [3] Pause, B. M. (2012). Processing of body odor signals by the human brain. Chemosensory Perception, 5(1), 55 to 63. [4] de Groot, J. H., Smeets, M. A., & Seminenko, A. (2014). Chemosignals communicate human emotions. Psychological Science, 23(11), 1417 to 1424. [5] Collins, A. M., & Loftus, E. F. (1975). A spreading activation theory of semantic processing. Psychological Review, 82(6), 407 to 428. [6] Ambady, N., & Rosenthal, R. (1992). Thin slices of expressive behaviour as predictors of interpersonal outcomes: A meta-analysis. Psychological Bulletin, 111(2), 256 to 274.

Written by Patrick Bradford, Business Consultant Patrick Bradford is a business consultant, keynote speaker, and founder of Patrick Bradford Consulting and of PlanPro Institute, an online business planning academy, helping growth-focused small business owners grow sales and lead with clarity through structured, results-driven strategies. Sex, money, and religion are three subjects people often avoid discussing openly. After spending time in 19 countries, I noticed that money remains particularly uncomfortable for many people. Yet money influences almost every aspect of business, from hiring and investment to growth and survival. For me, understanding money has never been only about making more. It is about understanding what money can make possible and how we choose to use it. My story with money I grew up in a two-bedroom apartment with five siblings, my parents, and eventually my niece. I was the youngest. When my brothers and sisters left for school, university, or work, the apartment became quiet, and I was often the only one at home. During those quiet moments, I would sometimes overhear my parents discussing money. They both cared about the family, but they had different views on how money should be used. My father was interested in public relations, helping the community, and volunteering. My mother focused more on family security, maintaining the home, and making sure the family had what it needed. Neither perspective was wrong. They simply viewed money differently. At the time, I did not have the vocabulary to explain what I was hearing. I understood that money could create disagreement between two people who loved each other and wanted the best for their family. Looking back, those conversations shaped my curiosity about money, business, risk, and financial decisions. My fascination with money grew with me. As I entered entrepreneurship, I began to understand what those childhood conversations had taught me: money is rarely just about money. Behind financial decisions are beliefs, priorities, fears, goals, and personal definitions of what matters. One person may save because security matters, while another may invest because growth matters. Someone else may spend because they value experiences, generosity, or quality of life. The money may be the same, but the purpose attached to it can be completely different. Why money became my work As my career developed, my curiosity about money became practical. I began to see financial education as more than learning how to earn. For an entrepreneur, financial education means understanding opportunities, assessing risk, evaluating investments, understanding profitability, and making informed decisions. It means knowing when to invest, when to wait, when to expand, and when to protect the business from unnecessary risk. A business owner can have a strong idea, excellent products, and loyal customers without achieving financial success. The owner still needs to understand the financial consequences of each decision. Should the company hire another employee? Should it open another location? Should it invest in technology or increase its marketing budget? Should it borrow money for expansion, or should profits be reinvested into the company? These are business questions, but they are also financial questions. That is one of the reasons I became interested in business planning. A business plan should not be a document created only for a bank or investor. Done properly, it should help the owner understand the business and make better decisions. For me, financial education is about creating that understanding. It does not guarantee perfect decisions, it gives the entrepreneur a stronger foundation from which to make them. This is also an area I continue to explore through the work we do at PlanPro Institute, where business owners can access practical resources designed to help them understand and improve different areas of their businesses. Three difficult conversations My experience of being in different countries and working with people from different cultures reinforced something I noticed growing up: money can be difficult to discuss. Sex, money, and religion are often personal subjects. People may openly discuss their businesses, careers, homes, or lifestyles while avoiding conversations about income, debt, investments, or financial security. That discomfort can have consequences. If we cannot discuss money openly, it becomes harder to learn about it. If we are embarrassed to ask questions, we may make decisions without understanding the consequences. If we are afraid to admit what we do not know, we may avoid seeking advice altogether. I am fortunate that money became a subject I wanted to understand rather than avoid. I work with money, discuss business growth and profitability, and help business owners understand financial decisions. Honestly, I like money. I like making money, I like spending money, and I like what money can do when it is used intelligently. Money is a vehicle I see money as a vehicle. A vehicle helps you get somewhere, but it is not the destination. Money can improve quality of life, but other things matter too. Health matters. Relationships matter. Self-awareness matters. Humility matters. Purpose matters. Someone can have significant wealth and still struggle in other areas of life. Money can solve certain problems, but it cannot automatically create meaningful relationships, good health, emotional intelligence, or purpose. That is why I do not see financial success as the ultimate measure of success. At the same time, I do not believe money should be dismissed as unimportant. There is a tendency to associate an interest in money with greed or materialism. I disagree. Money itself is neutral. What matters is how we acquire it, how we use it, and what we allow it to represent. Money can build companies, employ people, support families, fund research, help communities, create opportunities, and solve problems. The important question is not whether money is good or bad. It is what we do with it. Money runs businesses When it comes to business, I describe money as the blood that runs through the veins of an organization. A business needs money to operate, but it also needs money to grow. Money allows a business to hire talent, pay salaries, train employees, invest in technology, conduct research and development, market products and services, improve systems, open branches, and pursue opportunities. Without adequate financial resources, even a strong business can struggle. This is why entrepreneurs need to understand the difference between revenue, profit, and cash flow. They are connected, but they are not the same. A company can generate significant revenue and still lose money. It can be profitable and still experience cash flow problems. It can appear successful while struggling financially. These are not simply accounting details. They influence business decisions. If you do not understand your financial position, you are making strategic decisions with incomplete information, and incomplete information can become expensive. Understanding the numbers helps business owners make better decisions about pricing, hiring, investment, expansion, and risk. Without that understanding, decisions can become driven by assumptions, emotions, or optimism. Optimism is valuable in entrepreneurship, but it should not replace financial discipline. Financial education matters Financial education does not require every entrepreneur to become an accountant. But every business owner should understand enough about their finances to ask the right questions and understand the answers. If you invest in technology, what return should it generate? If you hire employees, what capacity or revenue should they create? If you open another location, how much capital will you need before it becomes profitable? If you reduce prices, how many additional sales will you need to maintain your profit? If you borrow money, can the business comfortably service the debt? These are financial questions and strategic questions. Financial education helps entrepreneurs understand the consequences before making decisions. It also helps them distinguish between an opportunity and an attractive idea. Not every opportunity is a good opportunity. A new market may look attractive but require more capital than the business can provide. A new product may generate revenue but little profit. A new branch may increase the company's size without increasing its financial strength. Understanding the numbers allows the owner to look beyond excitement and ask the more important question: Does this decision make sense for the business? For business owners who want to explore this subject further, PlanPro Institute is one place where they can learn more about business planning, financial thinking, and practical tools for building a stronger business. Understand the risk One of the most important parts of financial education is understanding risk. Entrepreneurship always involves uncertainty. Every investment, expansion, product, employee, and market carries some level of risk. The goal is not to eliminate risk. It is to understand it. There is a difference between calculated risk and blind risk. A calculated risk begins with questions: What do we know? What do we not know? What could go wrong? What is the potential upside? How much can we afford to lose? What happens if our assumptions are wrong? These questions do not eliminate uncertainty, but they make it easier to manage. This is why I believe financial education and business planning should work together. A strong business plan forces the entrepreneur to consider the market, customers, business model, costs, revenue, investment requirements, and risks. The purpose is not to predict the future perfectly. It is to prepare for it intelligently. Structure matters I am a big fan of structure. Not simply a business that makes money, but a business that understands why it makes money, how it makes money, where the money comes from, where it goes, and what needs to happen for it to become stronger. Financial performance does not exist in isolation. It connects with marketing, sales, operations, people, pricing, strategy, and leadership. A decision in one area can create financial consequences somewhere else. Reducing prices may increase sales but reduce margins. Hiring employees may increase capacity while increasing fixed costs. Investing in technology may require capital today while reducing costs later. This is why entrepreneurs need to look at the entire business rather than one financial number. A business is a system, and financial results are often the consequence of what happens throughout that system. Structure helps business owners understand those connections and make decisions based on more than instinct. Money creates options One of the greatest benefits of financial strength is the ability to create options. A financially healthy business can say no to a bad opportunity because it does not desperately need the revenue. It can invest when competitors are cutting back, retain talented employees during difficult periods, and experiment with new products and markets. The same principle applies to individuals. Financial stability can create security, flexibility, and the ability to pursue opportunities that might otherwise be unavailable. That is why I see money as a vehicle. But a vehicle is useful only when you know where you want to go. Without a destination, having a better vehicle does not necessarily create a better journey. Making money isn't enough Making money and building a strong business are not necessarily the same thing. A business can generate impressive revenue without being profitable. A profitable business can still have poor cash management. A company can grow rapidly while creating financial pressure that eventually becomes difficult to manage. Growth itself is not always the objective. Healthy growth is the goal. The goal should be to build a business that generates value while managing its costs, cash flow, people, systems, and risks effectively. This is why I believe in planning. Planning gives entrepreneurs an opportunity to think before they act. It encourages them to examine assumptions, understand the numbers, identify risks, and determine whether the strategy makes financial sense. Planning does not remove uncertainty. It gives uncertainty a framework. Money is not everything After years of working with entrepreneurs, discussing profitability, studying business models, and helping business owners make financial decisions, I still believe money is not everything. But pretending money does not matter is a mistake. Money affects almost every business decision. It affects hiring, investment, growth, innovation, expansion, and survival. It influences the choices available to entrepreneurs and the opportunities they can pursue. The answer is not to chase money blindly. The answer is to understand it. My fascination with money began in a quiet two-bedroom apartment, listening to my parents debate how their money should be used. My father and mother had different priorities, but both were trying to use money to achieve something they believed was important. Years later, I understand those conversations differently. They were not simply conversations about spending. They were conversations about values, security, contribution, priorities, and the kind of life they wanted to create for their family. Perhaps that is why money continues to interest me. I do not see it simply as a number in a bank account or a figure on a financial statement. I see it as a tool that can create opportunities, support businesses, improve quality of life, and give people more choices. But money needs direction. Without knowledge, it can be wasted. Without discipline, it can disappear. Without planning, it can create unnecessary risk. Without purpose, even having more of it may not make life better. Financial education is not about becoming obsessed with money. It is about becoming comfortable enough with money to make better decisions. Conclusion Money has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. It began with two parents having different opinions about how to use it and eventually became a subject that shaped my career, my approach to entrepreneurship, and the way I work with business owners. Today, I believe the conversation around money needs to become more open, practical, and informed. We don't need to worship money, and we don't need to fear it. We need to understand it. For entrepreneurs especially, that understanding can be the difference between making decisions based on assumptions and making decisions based on knowledge. We need to learn how to make more of it so that we can spend more of it, create better lives for ourselves and our families, and help more causes and communities around us. Making more money is not the final destination. What matters is what we do with it and what it allows us to create. Money can give us choices, create opportunities, support people, build businesses, and contribute to causes that matter to us. If you are building a business and would like to explore your financial challenges, growth opportunities, or business strategy, I invite you to book a 25-minute discovery session with me. We can have a conversation about where your business is today, where you want to take it, and whether I can help you move forward. Book a 25-minute discovery session here. Money is not everything. But understanding money can change almost everything. Follow me on Facebook, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Patrick Bradford Patrick Bradford, Business Consultant Patrick Bradford is a business consultant and keynote speaker who helps growth-focused small business owners increase sales and lead with clarity. He is the founder of Patrick Bradford Consulting and of PlanPro Institute, an online business planning academy built to make business growth simple, practical, and accessible. He has traveled and worked with businesses across five different countries, bringing a hands-on global perspective to growth and leadership. Patrick is also the author of “Blueprint for Business Success,” where he shares practical frameworks for building strong, sustainable businesses.

Written by Janet Vantriet, Certified Organisational Ombudsman, Conflict & Culture Strategist and Founder Janet Vantriet is a Certified Organisational Ombudsman and conflict‑resolution specialist who supports leaders, human resources (HR) teams and boards to navigate workplace conflict, drive culture transformation and conduct risk management with independence, confidentiality and clarity. Have you ever been in a team meeting when an uncomfortable topic has been raised and the leader has simply brushed past it? Or worked in an environment where subtle bullying has been passed off as humour? Leadership is most visible in moments of discomfort, conflict or tension. While traditional leaders might default to avoidance, control or compliance, there’s an emerging practice that sees conflict as information and opportunity. Let’s talk advocacy leadership. Discomfort happens, avoidance shouldn’t For every leader, no matter the industry, the role, the team or the organisation, there will come a time when things get uncomfortable. You will almost certainly have experienced this yourself. (No, I’m not talking about the awkwardness of a video conference goodbye.) In those uncomfortable moments, everyone feels it, but most are afraid to tackle the issue head-on. Nobody wants to be the one to shake up the status quo or open themselves up to attack. Most leaders want the tension to dissipate and the team to stay focused on their goals. So, they redirect, the moment passes, and the team moves on. Only, they don’t really. As any aspiring pop-psych influencer with an Instagram login will tell you, avoiding an issue doesn’t mean it goes away. It simply goes underground. This can lead to major problems down the line. Fast-forward a few months, and you’ll find a team that nods in agreement during meetings but holds the real conversations in hushed whispers afterward. A team whose trust is slowly eroding, not just in the leadership, but in the organisation as a whole. Fundamentally, that’s a fractured team. When leaders advocate for themselves instead of their team This isn't just a theoretical concept. It plays out in workplaces every day, often in ways that aren't immediately obvious. Consider the following example. I once had a colleague who was hired into a team with a charismatic leader who had really impressed her at first. He was friendly and charming and appeared to be brimming with knowledge. But it wasn’t long before the cracks began to show, and she started to realise that it was all a façade to hide the fact that the leader’s focus was on advocating for himself, not for his team. At first, the warning signs were subtle. There were rude comments thinly veiled as jokes or sarcasm. Team members were hired and promoted because they fell in line with the leader’s approach and kept any complaints or negativity to themselves. Worse, the achievements of individual team members were downplayed, and the achievements of the team as a whole were fully attributed to the leader alone. Then came a situation that changed everything. An issue arose between her team and another, and a project key performance indicator (KPI) fell through the cracks. My colleague still isn’t sure exactly what happened because it wasn’t handled openly. Facts weren’t gathered. Assumptions replaced conversations, rumours were believed over facts, and, before long, the issue had escalated far beyond the original concern. The leader was approached to determine what went on, but instead of being open and backing his team, he threw them under the bus. He completely undermined team trust, and things went from bad to worse. This was the opposite of advocacy leadership. The leader senior to him challenged the accusations made against the team. When confronted with this hard truth, this leader made a second mistake, he didn’t acknowledge his misstep but made further attacks on the entire team. Despite earning accolades throughout the company for their work performance, this leader tried to performance-manage several members of his own team out of the business. The bullying then spread to other team members and eventually tore the team apart. When leaders advocate for their team Eventually, the concerns reached senior leadership. Rather than accepting one version of events or rushing to defend a senior leader, they took a different approach. An impartial investigation was initiated, team members were invited to speak openly, and the evidence was carefully reviewed. As individual accounts were compared, a clear pattern of behaviour began to emerge. Importantly, the investigation wasn't about finding someone to blame as quickly as possible. It was about understanding what had happened, ensuring every voice was heard and restoring confidence in the integrity of the process. Advocacy leadership isn't about protecting individuals from accountability. It's about making sure accountability is applied fairly, consistently and without bias. When the investigation was complete, the behaviour was addressed directly. The leader was held accountable for actions that had undermined trust, and it was made clear that leadership positions come with higher, not lower, expectations of integrity and conduct (as they should!). The consequences were significant, including the possibility of losing the leadership role if meaningful behavioural change did not occur. Poor leadership and workplace bullying were not excused simply because someone held a position of authority. For the team, this mattered just as much as the outcome itself. Seeing inappropriate behaviour acknowledged rather than ignored demonstrated that complaints would be taken seriously and investigated fairly. It reinforced that psychological safety isn't created through policies or slogans. It's created when people see leaders willing to confront difficult behaviour, uphold shared standards and act with integrity, even when those conversations are uncomfortable. That's what advocacy leadership looks like in practice. It advocates for people over position, accountability over avoidance and fairness over favouritism. It reminds every member of the team that respect isn't optional and that no one, regardless of title, is above the standards expected of everyone else. How did leadership get here? I’m not sure why this leader felt prompted to act the way he did. However, this was clearly not advocacy leadership. But most of the time, a lack of advocacy leadership shows up in a quieter and even more subtle way. That’s because most leaders don’t ignore conflict or tension because they don’t care or because they’re wilfully ‘out to get someone’. They ignore it because that’s what we’ve all been taught good leadership looks like. Most of the time, leaders fail to embrace advocacy leadership because they’re simply doing what they’ve seen their models and mentors do countless times in the past. They’ve been taught, implicitly and explicitly, that good leadership is about smoothing things over, staying focused on the big picture, and keeping things moving forward for the entire team. So, they’ll give a generic soothing response, they might even step in quickly to ‘resolve it’, but without taking the time to reflect on the real underlying issue. This is where the mistake lies. Because it’s in these uncomfortable moments that golden opportunities arise to step up and show real leadership. The conflict paradox Conflict isn’t the problem. Not creating space for the conflict is. Researchers describe this as the ‘conflict paradox’. While we traditionally think of conflict as a negative, good leaders can use this conflict for the betterment of themselves and their entire team. That’s because they treat it as data to reach a better place for their team. It’s when conflict isn’t addressed at its source that it creates a problem. The room might stay silent, but eventually that frustration will be expressed somewhere else. Real problems arise when teams don’t feel enough psychological safety to say what needs to be said aloud. They’re afraid that speaking up will make them vulnerable to negative repercussions. This doesn’t only lead to more destructive conflict, it also undermines the performance of your team overall. When teams and individuals feel safe, they’re able to raise concerns earlier, challenge ideas constructively, admit mistakes and learn from them (and work to remedy them), contribute more fully to the organisation as a whole, and show higher levels of learning, innovation and team effectiveness overall. How advocacy leadership creates psychological safety This is where the emerging practice of advocacy leadership comes in, because leadership behaviour is one of the biggest factors shaping whether a team feels safe to speak up and engage with conflict. Advocacy leadership creates the opportunity for leaders to be fair without becoming distant, to be curious about what’s really going on without losing direction, and to hold space for different ideas or opinions without rushing to resolution. Advocacy leaders treat conflict as information, not a problem to eliminate. They also recognise that conflict and bullying are not the same thing. Healthy disagreement should be explored. Harmful behaviour should be addressed. Advocacy leadership creates space for the first while taking decisive action on the second. Tension in a team is rarely random. It usually points to something that needs attention. This might be a lack of clarity in a role, competing expectations between teams, poor communication from leadership, or a decision that hasn’t been fully explained. Rather than trying to shut down the conflict, advocacy leaders look at what the conflict is telling them. What is sitting underneath the reaction? What isn’t being said? What does the individual or team need that they aren’t getting? This tells the leader where and why the pressure is building and where to focus their attention before a small issue becomes a much larger one. Advocacy leadership challenges the traditional leadership structure that prioritises authority and compliance. Instead, it’s about leaders who stand up for their team by seeing conflict as information, inclusion as strength, and open, even uncomfortable, communication as a pathway to building more trust overall. Advocacy leaders want to protect and elevate their team. Advocacy leadership in practice At its core, advocacy leadership is simple. But in practice, it requires leaders to be able to acknowledge the uncomfortable and to really sit in it, embrace it, and learn from it. Most leaders aren’t ever taught how to do that. (Let’s be honest, most humans have no idea how to do that!) Leadership isn’t just found in performance reviews and strategy sessions, it’s there in the small, uncomfortable interactions that most people want to avoid. In those moments, true leaders can step up and respond in ways that shape not only outcomes, but also mindsets, culture, psychological safety and trust. If you want to embrace advocacy leadership, start implementing the following ideas into your own leadership behaviours and watch the magic happen. When tension or conflict appears, pause. Most leaders want to move on too quickly. But advocacy leaders pause, name what’s happening and give space for the conflict. When someone raises a concern, get curious. Traditional leaders will immediately try to explain or justify. This is what we were taught, after all. But advocacy leaders get curious. They ask questions and then follow-up questions. Information is the key to understanding. When opinions clash, slow down. Many leaders will try to resolve disagreements quickly. While you can, and should, try to de-escalate big emotions, don’t try to find an agreement or resolution too quickly. Slow the conversation down instead. When conflict feels uncomfortable, sit with it. Don’t try to immediately reduce the discomfort. Stay with it long enough to understand it. This does get easier with time and practice, I promise! Advocacy leadership isn't measured by how comfortable your meetings are. It's measured by what happens when things become uncomfortable. Do leaders listen before they judge? Do they investigate before they assume? Do they hold themselves to the same standards they expect from everyone else? Leadership built on integrity and accountability doesn't ignore difficult conversations. It creates the confidence that those conversations will be handled fairly. That's what builds psychological safety, strengthens culture and ultimately earns the trust every leader hopes to have. Embrace the tension The biggest misconception about leadership is that we have to have all the right answers right now. But really, it’s about how you handle the moments where there perhaps isn’t a right answer at all. These are the moments that define your leadership, that shape the culture of your team and that build safety and trust. Most leaders avoid conflict. The best ones use it not only to advocate for their team, but also to ensure they’re acting with the greatest level of accountability and integrity. Which type of leader are you going to be? Learn more about Janet Vantriet’s approach to leadership at EquipMe Coaching and Consulting. Follow me on LinkedIn and visit my website for more info! Read more from Janet Vantriet Janet Vantriet, Certified Organisational Ombudsman, Conflict & Culture Strategist and Founder Janet Vantriet is one of Australia’s few Certified Organisational Ombuds, supporting HR leaders, chief executive officers (CEOs) and boards with workplace conflict, culture and conduct risk. With more than two decades in people and culture roles, she founded EquipMe Coaching & Consulting to address issues traditional HR cannot resolve early enough. She is an accredited mediator, certified coach and senior HR professional whose work is grounded in neutrality, independence, confidentiality and informality. Janet brings an advocacy‑led and multicultural perspective to helping leaders navigate difficult conversations with clarity and fairness.