MAYA stands for “Most Advanced Yet Acceptable”, a principle coined by the industrial designer Raymond Loewy. People are drawn to innovation and new shiny objects, but only up to the point where it still feels safe, recognisable, and familiar. Push too far ahead of what people are ready for, and the idea is rejected. Stay too close to what already exists, and nothing changes.

Progress lives in the tension between the familiar and the surprising.

There’s a moment where something has clearly finished - a job, a role, a relationship, a version of you - but you aren’t particularly sure what is beginning, and you find yourself standing there thinking: Ok. Now what?

This is the liminal space. Like you are in suspense. The uncomfortable pause after the door has closed, before another one opens. It can feel exposing, unsettling, and deeply personal and confusing. You might be grieving what was, relieved it’s over, angry it ended this way, or quietly terrified that nothing is coming next. Often, it’s all of those things at once.

Christmas can be a much needed buffer. A moment between what was and what will be. Maybe. Even if it doesn’t feel like it. Even if everything is uncertain. Even if you’re simply trying to get through. If all you do this Christmas is breathe a little deeper, rest a little more, distract your mind, and let yourself be off duty, you’ve done enough. You’ve honoured the transition you’re in. And you’ll be better equipped to face whatever comes next.

In my book Why Losing Your Job Could Be the Best Thing to Happen to You, I describe three options available to us at moments like this: Stick, Twist or Bust. They’re not career strategies in the traditional sense. They’re ways of thinking, lenses that help you navigate uncertainty without force before you’re ready.

If you’re thinking about writing a book, it great to set out some principles which will help shape the book. Start with questions about why you are writing it, why would someone buy it, what is the problem you are solving for the reader, who are they and then some creative principles which will then make it yours and unique to you.

Change can come slowly and then suddenly, an (expected) announcement, a (rumoured) restructure, a (much talked about) takeover, and then you are in suspense as redundancy consultations that aren’t yet confirmed but loom in the air. It creates a space of liminality: that uncomfortable in-between where nothing is clear, emotions run high, and our minds race faster than facts can keep up.

You’re not “getting left behind” with AI. In moments of, what can feel like, revolutionary change, there is a swell of getting busier, ‘catching up’, chasing, getting ahead. But that can also cause burnout and overwhelm before we’ve even started. So how we can approach AI development with an open curiosity, to understand what it can really do, and contribute to the world, rather than join the 100m sprint into the land of ‘Who-Knows-Where’ (which should’ve been a land in the Never Ending Story but wasn’t).

There’s a moment in every change journey when the old ways no longer fit, but the new ways haven’t fully formed. The door has closed, but the new one is yet to open. It’s where news has come, but the news doesn’t include how it ends. This liminal space is not a waiting room. It’s where the magic begins.

“Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it has always been a sign that you are alive.” - Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

Riding the waves of what was, what is, and what might be.

Change is messy. It’s emotional. It’s confusing. It’s that in-between place where the old no longer fits and the new hasn’t quite formed. It’s the moment you realise you’re not in control of the tide, you’re just learning to ride the waves.

You don’t need a big life event to activate your Change Mastery. We need these skills everyday: adjusting to a new routine, learning a skill, navigating a tough conversation. Each time you cycle through Pause, Mess, Play, Try, Restart, you build your capacity for change.

Change mastery doesn’t mean you’ll always find it easy. It means you’ll be better equipped to walk through the uncertainty with courage, curiosity, and intention.

Change is not waiting for us at the next closed door. Change is happening every day.

There’s a particular kind of flutter that shows up, right in the pit of our stomach.It comes when we’re waiting for something… It’s that unmistakable sense that our insides have turned into a tiny circus, butterflies doing back flips, clowns juggling thoughts that we never signed up for. We call it “butterflies.” But what the heck actually is ‘butterflies’?

When I wrote Another Door Opens, one of the core steps I wanted to explore was “Try.” Not “Achieve,” not “Succeed,” but try. Because so often we dont allow ourselves to even try, and when we do we berate ourselves for the none achievements. But there’s a quiet joy in putting one foot forward, in testing an idea, in giving something a go, even when we don’t know what will come of it.

Leading change starts with you. When we talk about leading change at work, it's often about others: our team, our organisation, our stakeholders, our processes, the stuff that is changing. But leading change well has to start with ourselves. Quite often leaders skip this bit.

Children are trying to navigate change everyday. Friendship groups, family changes, new lessons, new school, new teachers, new body, new thoughts, new latest thing they all need! Using these steps might help to talk about it without the icky parent child conversation we sometimes end up having.