THE DARING WORKS NEWSLETTERTrimTabs - small shifts, big possibilities.
A weekly dose of curiosity, perspective and the occasional provocation.
A trim tab is a small flap on the rudder of a ship. By moving this tiny piece, you can help turn the much larger rudder and ultimately change the direction of the entire vessel.
It's an idea I came across through the brilliant and unconventional thinker Buckminster Fuller, who saw it as a metaphor for how individuals can influence much bigger systems.
And I love the idea that small shifts in how we think, see and act can create ripples far beyond ourselves. That's the spirit behind TrimTabs.
Every Tuesday morning, I share something that's got me thinking. Sometimes it's about business, leadership or the systems we've created. Other times it's nature, burnout, community, technology or simply what it means to be human.
I draw on my experiences in the corporate world, my work as an Accredited Coach and strategist and my growing fascination with what the natural world can teach us.
It's a place to connect seemingly unrelated ideas, challenge a few assumptions and perhaps see something familiar in a different light.
Sometimes personal. Sometimes practical. Occasionally provocative.
And hopefully, every now and then, something that acts as a little trim tab in your own life.
Joy is an act of resistance.
I’m curious about how you’re feeling about the hot and dry weather? Some people are loving the Mediterranean summer and others are sensing climate change is rapidly speeding up and becoming more visible and dangerous.
Whatever your perspective, more people are talking about our changing climate. Wildfires, drought, hosepipe bans, failing crops. It's hard to miss.
You don’t need to see the whole path.
It’s been a big couple of weeks in our house.
Henry got his A Level results and a week later, Arlo got his GCSEs. Two very different young people, two very different journeys and both have left me thinking about resilience, ‘success’ and the power of simply keeping moving when you can't see where you're going.
I spent a lot of my life believing that security meant working hard, earning well and building a successful career. I stayed in corporate life longer than was healthy, telling myself I was doing it for my kids.
Daring to look below the surface.
I’ve taken time recently to take some of my own medicine - slow down, create some space and see what becomes visible when I'm not rushing to the next thing.
It's got me thinking about clarity. We're often told to sharpen what we do, find your niche and maybe pick one thing and get really good at it.
Belonging without performing.
Last week I wrote about the fear of nobody choosing us and how putting our energy in to building deep roots can mean we’re okay whatever happens. That's stayed with me and it's led me back to something I first explored in my coach training and later found again in eco-psychologist Bill Plotkin's work - the idea of ‘the loyal soldier’.
Our story today goes back to WWII. Japanese soldiers were stationed on remote Pacific islands and told never to surrender.
What if nobody chooses us?
I've been thinking lately about the different parts of myself. I'm learning to appreciate all of them, even the ones I used to hide away.
Last week I wrote the appreciation and lessons from the more stormy parts of our lives. They can give us a way of noticing things, reading situations and understanding people that we might otherwise miss.
It got me thinking about another thing that keeps us stuck - fear. Not always the big, obvious kind but the more subtle fears of starting something new, of being judged, of wondering if anyone will actually show up.
Two years ago I hadn't run a single event.
The power in the parts we hide.
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.