What perception is projection asks us to consider is whether the meaning we are attaching to that behaviour belongs entirely to the other person, or whether some of it belongs to us. One of the reasons I find this topic so fascinating is that the human brain can only recognise behaviour it already understands.

Let's create space for people to tell us what they are feeling rather than telling them what they should be feeling. Let's just, for a moment, see the possibility of things going well.

Most of us say we want healthy boundaries. But often, what we're actually building is a defence, a line in the sand drawn in frustration, not clarity. We say things like I'm not working late anymore, or I'm done with people taking advantage of me, but those lines rarely hold. Not because we're weak, but because the boundary was built to block, not to serve.

I have been having an absolute field day lately with language and its impact on our thinking. I do, after all, educate and certify people in Neuro-Linguistic Programming. And my clients and graduates will tell you with certainty that it's far from the "let's all just think positive words and thoughts, and manifest the world" kind of narrative.

Change. Oh wow, it’s happened again. I’ve hit the wall of my little box called life and now I’m standing at that familiar crossroads asking myself the same question we all eventually ask: Do I keep doing what I’ve always done? Or do I peek over the edge and see what else might be possible for me?

If you feel like the state of the world is living inside your head, it is not a personal failing, it is a pattern called the Drama Cycle. Emotionally charged information is designed to pull you into one of three roles: victim, persecutor, or saviour.

Feeling unlike yourself: anxious, flat, or emotionally unrecognisable, is a normal response to collective uncertainty. Your emotions are not the problem. Fear, sadness, and anger are survival signals designed to guide you. When you learn to direct them instead of suppress them, they become tools for clarity and action.

If you're feeling flat, directionless, or quietly anxious despite nothing being obviously wrong, you're experiencing a common response to collective uncertainty, and it has a name. Here's what's happening and how to find your footing again.

Most of us were taught to avoid embarrassment. Something awkward. Something we should push away as quickly as possible, yet embarrassment has a purpose. At its core, embarrassment is a social emotion. It developed to help us stay connected to the tribe. Long before modern life, belonging to the group meant safety and survival. Embarrassment helps us pause and check in with our behaviour within the social world around us.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been writing about what I call our survival emotions. We’ve explored anger, sadness and fear; these emotions are designed to protect us, alert us and help us navigate the world around us. They are powerful, primal and deeply human. Now we move into the next layer. The social emotions. This is where it gets really interesting, because these emotions are not so much about life or death. They are not about whether the berry is poisonous or whether t

There is a very particular moment that comes just before we stretch ourselves. It rarely arrives loudly. It begins as a tightening somewhere in the body, a subtle shift in the breath, a flicker of doubt that feels almost logical.

The most fascinating thing I notice when I guide clients through emotional clearing is that, once anger is softened and understood, something quieter almost always emerges beneath it. Sadness. Not dramatic. Not explosive. Just present.

Anger is often the most reactive, volatile, and misunderstood emotion. It is the emotion most likely to push us into defensive behaviour, protective reactions, emotional outbursts, withdrawal, guilt, and regret. It is often the emotion that leaves us afterwards thinking, “Why did I react like that?” or “That wasn’t how I wanted to handle that.”

Over the next few weeks, I'm going to have a deeper conversation and work on emotions. What they are. Why do they exist?

There’s something tender about this week between Christmas and New Year. It’s a strange, floaty space. Not quite the year that was, not yet the year that’s coming. It’s a quiet pause in the middle and a moment where the noise softens just enough for us to hear ourselves think.

Have you ever noticed how some thoughts come back like ghosts? They drift in quietly at first, a whisper of doubt, a flicker of fear, until suddenly, they’re front and centre, convincing you they’ve been here all along. They’re not the kind of ghosts that rattle chains or slam doors. They’re the quieter kind, the ones that speak in familiar voices.

I was a pragmatist at heart, the kind of person who got things done and didn't stop until the job was finished. On paper, it sounded great: dependable, calm, organised, and consistent. The light side of those traits was stability and reliability. The shadow side told a different story. Beneath the calm was anxiety. Beneath the order, control. I was risk-averse, overloaded, and, truth be told, a bit of a people pleaser.

Who’s having endless discussions about AI and the future of our tasks, our jobs, our workforce, heck, our humanity?!?! Will AI replace me? Is AI a faster, smarter, better-looking, and more articulate version of me?

This week, I found myself, quite literally, covered in mud. I'd spent the day in the garden, laying stones, clearing tiles, digging out weeds, and finally laying fresh mulch. It was hard work, but when I stood back and saw the transformation, it was magic. The grime of winter washed away, green shoots ready to bloom, the quiet promise of spring in every corner.

With the end of the year approaching, how many of you have slipped into "panic work" mode? Working late, dropping boundaries, telling yourself you'll just "get a bit more done", but actually achieving less. I've been noticing how often I hear people say, "I can't believe it's already September, we're in the last quarter." I've even caught myself saying it. At first, it feels harmless, but here's the truth: those small words start to wire the brain into panic. Suddenly, time f