Welcome to The Blog

A widening, a deep breath, and a season of evolving with intention.

This is the story of how ‘Expand’ found me this year — and how it might spark something for you as you choose your own word for 2026.

Understanding the neuroscience of safety, threat, and leadership integrity

We like to believe we’re rational. Thoughtful. Deliberate.
But most of the time? We’re not.

Our brains are wired first and foremost for survival, not logic.
Zoe Chance’s framing in Influence Is Your Superpower — the Gator and the Judge — has become one of my favourite ways to help leaders make sense of what’s really happening inside their heads (and their teams’) when things heat up.

As we near the close of this year, it is that time where I reflect on the word that quietly guided
me through 2025: Flourish.
When I chose it last January, I imagined growth, ease, and expansion. I imagined blooming.
What I couldn’t have predicted was how precisely Flourish would ask me to stretch—not in
grand, sweeping gestures, but in the subtle, rooted, everyday choices that shaped the year.

When we think about leadership transitions—new roles, reorganizations, retirements, or even layoffs—our first instinct is often to focus on strategy and structure. Who’s leading what? What’s the plan? How do we communicate the change?

But underneath every org chart update sits something deeply human: grief.

We rarely name it that way, yet every transition involves a loss. The loss of a familiar rhythm. Of a trusted colleague. Of a way of working that, even if imperfect, was known.

We all worry—it’s part of being human. A little worry can even be helpful: it nudges us to prepare for the presentation, double-check the flight time, or plan for the future.

But for many of the leaders I work with, worry doesn’t stop there. It spirals. What starts as a protective instinct quickly becomes a mental loop—one that drains energy, clouds decision-making, and robs us of presence.

In preparation for The Energy Edge Program, coming January 2026, I found a rabbit hole on worry and thought I would share some of what I found and liked.

September arrives with a jolt. The air is sharper, routines pick up pace, and suddenly we’re
not floating in summer mode anymore — we’re back in the thick of it. It’s like the world
collectively exhales and says, okay, let’s get serious again.

 Here’s a leadership truth we don’t talk about enough: 
Leadership truth: Joy is a powerful source of energy—and often the first thing to slip away in the swirl of pressure, performance, and people management.

But when leaders reconnect with what lights them up, they lead with more clarity, steadiness, and presence.
But when leaders reconnect with what lights them up, they lead with more clarity, steadiness, and presence.

I’ve been thinking about stillness for a while now.
Not as absence or inaction—but as a kind of grounded presence. A way of being that anchors us in the middle of the swirl that surrounds us.

Because let’s be honest: leadership can feel like a moving target. There’s urgency, decision fatigue, competing agendas, and the relentless pressure to perform. In that churn, the pull is always toward more—more speed, more visibility, more doing.

Grief doesn’t always show up in the ways we expect.
And it’s not always about death.
Sometimes, it’s the dream that didn’t materialize.
The version of your role that no longer exists.
The team you once had that felt aligned, energized, yours.
The leader you thought you’d become by now.