Why pushing through is the problem, not the solution.

A personal reminder that rest isn’t weak — it’s wise.

This past weekend, I was humbled—big time.

I coach others through all kinds of growth and transformation. I tend to attract bold, purpose-driven humans—folks who won’t compromise on meaning, contribution, or alignment within themselves or the world around them.

And yet, there I was: in a moment of total misalignment.

I’m in what I affectionately call my “silly season”—that sweet spot (okay, sometimes chaotic spot) where I’m doing a good deal of client work that I absolutely love with leaders and teams. Fueled by momentum, I convinced myself that the weekend would need to be “productive.” I had to get ahead. So, of course, I decided to work through it.

Enter stage left: my old buddy, the Hyper-Achiever Saboteur. Oh hello there! High fives! High kicks! I recognize you instantly—shiny, persistent, and ever-so-convincing.

Here’s where it gets interesting. I’ve been deepening my somatic awareness lately—thanks in part to some treasured members of my Personal Board of Directors and some choice learning that helps me serve my clients more wholly.

So, I walk into my office Saturday, settle into my chair, cozy clothes on, and my stomach lurches. I pause. “What are you trying to tell me?” I ask.

A slow, anxious drop rolls through me.

Then my head—logical, determined, classic overachiever—pipes up: “Push on! It’ll only take a few hours. Let’s just see how far you get!”

My stomach flips again.

There it was. A clear message from my body. But my head? Fully disconnected.

I wasn’t listening. I was bypassing the signal. And that, right there—that moment of noticing—is the magic.

Why? Because I had a choice. Listen to the message, or deny it. If I ignored it, I’d burn through my energy reserves and show up depleted—for myself, for my loved ones, and for my clients.

My opportunity: pause, tune in, trust my body’s wisdom, and let it lead.

Now, some of you might be thinking, “She’s gone bonkers.”

I say: I’ve gone the right kind of bonkers that makes me a better human—more grounded, more joyful, more in service. And I owe that to myself and to the brilliant humans who invest their trust in me.

This isn’t new intel. We’ve been talking about the mind-body connection for years. But here’s the nudge: when something feels hard, it might be harder than it needs to be. And that’s often a cue to stop, ask, and really listen.

Your body might lead you to do something that seems counter to “productivity”—and in doing so, it’ll offer the very bridge you need. Not just to get more done, but to do it with greater clarity, deeper alignment, more fulfillment, and actual joy.

So, next time you find yourself pushing through, here’s a question to try:

What is my body trying to say right now?

Your brain might resist. That’s its job. But your body? It’s a wise and trusted companion—if only you let it speak.

P.S. As I write this, I’m buzzing with energy and clarity. Look out, world. I’m back in alignment—because I paused, I listened, and I honored what I needed.

 

Challenging assumptions: what if they’re doing their best?

Assuming someone’s intentions is a tricky game. What if, instead, we considered that they’re doing the best they can with what they have?

When I took Dare to Lead™ training years ago, the masterful Laurie Hillis posed a powerful question in the BRAVING Trust component of the curriculum: “What if we believed people are doing the best they can?” That question shifted my perspective. Moments with colleagues, friends, and past interactions flashed before me. I felt lighter—more compassionate, curious, and willing to let go of assumptions.

Some situations call for feedback. Others require us to release judgment and let go, best we can. Intent may be good, but impact can still harm—those are the moments to align with our values and respond with clarity.

Next time you assume the worst of another person, what if you pause and get curious? Questions that have worked in my own reflections for now years include: “What if they were doing the best they could in that moment?” Then I might consider: “Am I okay with that? How do I clarify intent vs. impact?”

Less assumption. More understanding. Strengthened relationships.

How might your relationships shift if you assumed, just for a moment, that others are doing the best they can?

You don’t have to do it alone – asking for help is a courage move!

Why is asking for help so hard in leadership? Some fear looking incompetent or weak. Others were raised and/or socialized to believe they should always have the answers. If that’s been your experience, I get it. As leaders, we’re wired to be resourceful and self-sufficient—but that doesn’t mean we have to go it alone. Sometimes, we need a trusted circle to help us navigate the way forward.

In emotionally mature, conscious, trust-based environments, asking for help isn’t a weakness—it’s a strength. It sets the tone for others to do the same. Yet, too many leaders struggle in silence, wrestling with tough decisions, relationships, and self-doubt.

The irony? When we reach out to those we trust, we’re often met with support, perspective, and relief. I used to try and power through alone—until I realized how much harder that made leadership (and life). Now, when I’m stuck, I turn to my Personal Board of Directors—and they always show up with real help.

Next time you feel stuck, ask yourself: Who’s in my corner? Who can I reach out to? The help is there—you just have to ask.

Never too late, never too old.

From dancers to painters, public servants to writers, leaders to entrepreneurs, marketers to therapists—I wholeheartedly believe age doesn’t have to be a barrier to purpose, growth, and contribution that aligns.

My dad, nearing 80, still plays in bands. My stepmother just finished her latest book. My late grandmother closed real estate deals well into her 80s. A former grief counselor I adored earned her PhD in her late 60s and is still practicing today.

I loved Live to 100: Secrets of the Blue Zones, Dan Buettner’s docuseries exploring the world’s longest-lived communities. Many centenarians there are still active—dancing, creating, working, and contributing. Their vitality proves that longevity isn’t just about living longer, but living well.

Of course, health, privilege, and life circumstances shape what’s possible for each of us. Not everyone has the same choices. Yet within our own realities, the desire for meaning doesn’t retire. Many of my clients in pre-retirement are reflecting on what’s next—writing books, joining boards, starting businesses, going back to school, or consulting on their own terms.

Jane Goodall, age 90, is tirelessly advocating for conservation. The Dalai Lama, now 88, continues to share wisdom.

So, what if your best work is still ahead of you? What would you pursue if age weren’t a factor?

The Relationship We Often Neglect

So many of us look outward—seeking validation, striving to contribute, giving endlessly. It’s natural. We want to belong, to make an impact. But in that pursuit, we often neglect the most important relationship: the one with ourselves.

I see it all the time—leaders, business owners, and high achievers pushing so hard they become depleted, even resentful. Their battery drains, yet they don’t know how to recharge or deprioritize and avoid it. I know that pattern well. I lived off that energy until I had to go inward, do the deep work, and rebuild in a more sustainable, authentic way.

Last week, I wrote about my Personal Board of Directors—with me as the Chair of myself, and my inner “battery”. Daily, I prioritize one small act of joy, creativity, or play—and movement as a foundation for how I lead, cope, and live. At the end of each workday, I take a moment to pause, check in, and realign from within before showing up for others.

What began as calendar reminders are now ingrained habits. Slips happen, but I know how to reset when I get disconnected from within, to reconnect with myself. I owe it to myself to feel good, stay true to my values, and show up more fulsomely in the world.

It’s easy to lose ourselves in the hustle. But when we prioritize the relationship with ourselves, we align our heads, hearts, and bodies—stepping into the world with greater resilience and authenticity, ready to do our best work and be who we truly are.

So, what’s one small thing you can begin to strengthen your relationship with yourself?

“A mistake is not a mistake if we can learn from it.”

We’ve all heard “there’s no such thing as failure, only learning.” But how that lands really depends on the culture you create.

If we treat failure punitively, we:

  • Undermine confidence and belonging
  • Demotivate others
  • Create fear
  • Disempower ideas and perspectives
  • Stifle creativity, productivity, and growth

It’s a heavy toll to pay.

But when we view failure as a learning opportunity, we:

  • Foster a supportive, motivating environment
  • Encourage adaptability and problem-solving
  • Strengthen decision-making
  • Turn setbacks into growth opportunities
  • Build healthier communication, rooted in emotional intelligence

So, here’s the question: Are you creating a space where it’s safe to learn, even from mistakes? If not, could there be a new way to reframe errors as possibilities?

Psychological safety is a big topic, and learning from mistakes is just one part of it. In times of uncertainty, fear is natural—but learning drives progress. Mistakes can be powerful but often become costly when we don’t allow ourselves to learn from them.

My wish for more teams and organizational cultures is we continue to consciously work towards systems with less fear and more room for learning.

Together we have work to do. What might be a constructive starting point?

Two great resources to explore with much appreciation for their work: Fearless Organization by Amy Edmondson and The Four Stages of Psychological Safety by Timothy R. Clark.

Thanks to Maeve O’Byrne, (she/her) PCC, MAIS, CEC for this wonderful quote in a webinar on psychological safety recently, with appreciation for Neil Pretty for expertise and time.

The power of a Personal Board of Directors: you’re never alone

A huge thank you to my Personal Board of Directors—you know who you are! Some of you are here, others are in different parts of my life, and I’m deeply grateful for all of you.

People sometimes ask if working for myself feels lonely. My answer? Never. I just have to remember to ask for help, and—voilà—you’re there.

As Brené Brown says, “We’re hardwired for connection.” We’re not meant to navigate life’s struggles and joys alone. When I was about to launch my practice, my biggest fear was doing it solo. My coach at the time, Sylvie Marcil, kindly but directly challenged me: “Do you have to do it alone?” That question changed everything. I realized I had an incredible circle of support—friends, family, chosen family, mentors, coaches, healers, and peers. My Personal Board of Directors.

Now, when my clients feel stuck, I ask, “Who’s on your Personal Board of Directors that could help with this?” And just like that, light bulbs go off. Support can come from so many places—friends, family, peers, therapists, unconventional healers. And I’m there too.

If you’re struggling with something big (or exciting!), who can you reach out to? We often hesitate to ask for help, but the people in our corner usually love to show up for us. Try naming your Board, letting them know, and see how much it means—to you and to them.

In uncertain, challenging times, strong, trusted connections matter more than ever. So thank you, Sylvie, for that nudge. And to my Board—you know I’ve got your back too.

 

“Change management is all about loss management.”

When we reality-check the people side of change management, we see a grief process unfold. Change means losing what’s familiar—some embrace it, while others feel threatened or saddened. As leaders, we can either acknowledge and support this emotional journey or ignore it.

Uncomfortable with emotion, especially when leading others through it? That’s part of change leadership. It’s messy but rewarding as we build capacity over time.

What’s your learning edge in supporting people through change?

 

Gossip Versus Processing: How To Tell The Difference

Did you talk about someone today who wasn’t there to hear what you had to say? Was it constructive, or did it veer off into the gossip terrain, offloading hurt or stress?

Themes I’ve noticed of those who are processing with constructive intent:
·       They’re processing to seek clarity or solutions.
·       They’re discussing something with a trusted individual for support.
·       They are reflective, trying to make sense of a situation or dynamic.
·       Often, they may be trying to understand different perspectives.
·       Most of the time, they want to figure out how to problem-solve and open to their role in doing so.

Signs of gossip:
·       Spreading negativity or criticism.
·       Talking behind someone’s back, often in a way they wouldn’t speak to the person directly.
·       Judgment and sarcasm are present.
·       Trust is bruised with indirect, avoidant or destructive communication.
·       A person is often the target versus interest to repair the issue or relationship.

Processing can be on the edge at times too, even with the best intentions. Gossip, however, just plain hurts people. The behaviour of gossip can spread. It gets normalized, and quickly. As leaders, we model our cultural norms daily, shaping what we wish to cultivate and tolerate. Pausing to distinguish between gossip and constructive processing can make a difference in whether we build up or take down trust, psychological safety, and constructive communication—creating spaces where people belong, learn, share ideas, and challenge each other without fear.

Before discussing someone who isn’t in the room, what questions might help you reflect on your intention and approach? And if you’re with someone who is gossiping, how might you handle that moment to set the tone you wish for?

Note on psychological safety is with inspiration from Timothy R. Clark.

Why Are We So Afraid of Conflict at Work?

“Conflict is inevitable”, they said during my Conflict Dynamics training at Mediation Training Institute at Eckerd College. I felt a weighted acceptance normalizing conflict as not only unavoidable but essential for trust, creativity, diversity, better decision-making and a call for us to step further into emotional intelligence.

Many of us fear conflict. In comes narrative… Judgment. Things could get worse. The job could be at risk. Avoidance could solve it. It’s too uncomfortable. The power dynamics are uneasy. The outcome is unknown. Past experiences with conflict were tough.

How do we bridge the gap from fear to constructive conflict? Moving from fear to constructive conflict starts with self-awareness, empathy, curiosity, and intentionality. Growth, healing, and learning new tools take time, and key to handling conflict with grace.

Here are a few practical tips from my experience—working with leaders and teams, navigating tough moments myself, and being an avid learner on the topic.

·      Ensure both parties consent and are grounded before starting.
·      Set shared ground rules (e.g., facts over assumptions, “I” vs. “we” statements, non-judgment, curiosity, no interrupting, a plan for de-escalation).
·      Focus on shared goals and values, not just the issue at hand.
·      Check in on alignment and emotional safety throughout.
·      Self-regulate emotions (deep belly breaths work wonders!).
·      Accept that you may need to agree to disagree or acknowledge different recollections.
·      Let go of controlling the outcome—only your intent and approach are within your control.
·      Sometimes, walking away is a fair choice, especially when risks are high.
·      Consider using SBI (Situation-Behavior-Impact) for clear, constructive feedback from the Center for Creative Leadership.

Fear of conflict is information. It doesn’t have to block constructive conversations, but it helps assess if we are safe to proceed, and in our values. As a beloved friend says, “You have voice and choice” in these moments.

Conscious, creative tensions can be worth the inner tensions we feel. Dynamics, how things get done, and outcomes we strive for, can benefit in profound ways.

What resonates with you here? What would you add or change? This is a complex topic, and I share it as an ongoing learner too!

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