I think differently and for a long time, I tried to hide that.

I worried what people would think if they saw how my mind worked. The way I notice patterns, read between the lines and sense what's happening beneath the surface.

I didn't want to be seen as different and I didn't want people to think I was broken.

But I can now see that my lived experience is also one of my greatest strengths. And it’s actually why I was so successful in my corporate career even if I never knew that at the time.

Part of the reason I think differently? Trauma.

I'm feeling so grateful for the magical evening we experienced on Friday with The Longer Table.

This was our second gathering and each time we navigate a shared theme with conversation, perspective and curiosity. This time nearly 30 people came and joined me and my co-conspirator Kate as we explored the concept of ‘Enough’.

It's an interesting concept and it relates to our idea of sufficiency. What's enough money? Do I have enough possessions? Do I really know what ‘enough’ means to me?

I was away last week and for the first time I can remember, I decided that also meant a break from writing this. So here I am with a fortnight's worth of field notes to share.

The Friday before my break, we hosted our seventh workshop in The Natural Network wheel of the year. It's an adventure me and Kate at Four Acre Farm started back in September to build workshops that balance seasonal energy with practical insights for work, life and everything in between.

It’s the 23rd of June and that means it’s been 2 days since the Summer Solstice. Did you celebrate it? Or maybe just witness it? It’s the longest day of the year and reminds us that summer is in abundant flow with nature in full bloom. Hopefully you can sense that energy in your life too!

It probably isn’t a surprise that I love witnessing the rhythms of the year. It’s a principle I use in my work and has opened up profound changes in my own relationship with the light and the dark.

These are now moments I consciously feel rather than just mark on a calendar. Something shifts in me at the solstices and equinoxes, a kind of internal weather change that I've learned to pay attention to.

I’d like to start today where we ended last week.

I'd left you with a reflection: Where can you be daring this week? Or maybe willing to be naive? Or maybe even finding other people to nurture your courage together?

I've been wondering how that landed? It's been sitting with me too.

Looking back across my life, I can see how many moments have asked me to choose courage. And the shape of that courage has almost always been the same - going with the truth, even when it was painful or destabilising.

I hope you enjoyed the re-introduction last week, It was a temporary meander to give some context and one that's hopefully laid a solid foundation for us to push on into new territory together.

This week builds on that energy. So as I’ve re-introduced myself, maybe I should provide some context to the philosophy behind my business name.

I thought I'd start this week with a welcome to our new readers. I've been writing these newsletters for over a year now and you might have missed the backstory.

Firstly, thank you to all of you that have read, supported or attended something I’m part of. It genuinely means so much to me.

Anyway, back to the newsletter. I started without much of a plan. The odd email here and there, letting people know about things I was involved in. Then a few of you started telling me you liked the writing, which caught me off guard, because after a lifetime of fairly successfully silencing myself, it turned out I had more tosay than I'd ever given myself credit for.

I hope you enjoyed the bank holiday weekend. As I land back at my desk, I’ve got a mix of cool things to tell you about but I’m also reflective about an anniversary today.

Firstly, I recorded a podcast with Anna Lundberg a little while ago and it went out yesterday. I often find it difficult to listen to myself speak so I was relieved when I nodded along to what I said.

‘Community’ has been a concept I’ve become increasingly curious about and I've noticed the different metrics people use to measure its success. We count members, followers, ticket sales, open rates. And those numbers can look very healthy right up until the moment you actually need people and then find out how many of them were really there.

The true measure of a community is much simpler and much harder to track, who shows up when the chips are down? Not when it's fun and photogenic but when showing up costs something.

I've been noticing something this week that keeps showing up across different parts of my work and life and when something shows up that many times I've learned to pay attention.

The theme, if I had to name it, is ‘measurement’. What we measure in our lives, why we measure it and whether the measures we've inherited actually serve us or just make us easier to manage?

I hope you’ve had a good bank holiday weekend. It felt really good to slow down and embrace the mixed bag of weather - a proper balance of beautiful sunshine and rain. Perfect growing weather.

On Friday evening we celebrated the ancient festival of Beltane at Four Acre Farm (where we host The Natural Network workshops). It was a truly magical evening of sun, storytelling and cake. Lots of cake.

I hope you’ve been able to get outside and enjoy this warmer, brighter weather. It’s given me a burst of energy and opened up some wonderful conversations with people. It’s also highlighted a tension I’ve been sitting with for a while and I’m curious if it resonates with you too?

I’m seeing that the more meaningful your work becomes, the less you want to shout about it. And the more your practice is rooted in something real, the more it feels wrong to pitch it.

So, slowly, you make yourself harder to find…

I’m glad to be back in our usual rhythm this week and I’m here in your inbox on the usual day.

For anyone who missed it, the pause came after my eldest son unfortunately had a seizure and we ended up in A&E. I’m grateful he has recovered well from the concussion and he will have an EEG soon so we can understand whether epilepsy might be part of the picture. It feels like we’ve been moving through choppy waters and the tide is beginning to settle.

I hope this doesn’t confuse your internal clock too much but today is obviously Friday, not the usual Tuesday when I send this.

It’s been one of those weeks where the rhythm of life gets completely thrown off. On Monday, I was sitting in the garden, finalising the original version of this newsletter and enjoying a bit of sun, when I heard a crash from inside the house. I didn’t think too much of it at first. With teenage boys and a dog, noise is just part of the background.

It's bank holiday Monday and I'm writing this in the sun in my garden. I've just got back from a night at a wonderful campsite and there are some genuinely exciting things on the horizon this week.

But if I can be honest (and that's always been the deal here), I'm feeling rather overwhelmed. Not in a desperate sense, just an unease and a feeling of imbalance. In the past I would have ignored it, masked upand carried on but I know better now.

Testing new things is all part of nurturing my curiosity and to help me recover from decades of perfectionism. I held myself back because I feared getting things wrong and I assumed others would judge me, when really the judgement was coming from within. By growing my self‑compassion, I’ve created more space to play.

And that brings me to this week’s theme: the stories we live inside and the freedom that comes when we question them.

I’d like to start this week with a recent reflection if that’s ok….

I don’t think anyone really knows what’s going on any more.

That might sound extreme but I’ve been noticing something. The world feels increasingly weird, complicated and heavy. The hyper-normalisation of genuinely odd things has left many of us unsure which way is up, who to trust, which side we’re on and whether the images we’re seeing are even real.

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