Redundancy is one of life’s sharpest, ouchiest (real word) curveballs. Even when the rumours circulate or logic tells us “it could happen,” the moment itself still lands with weight. It interrupts our routines, our identity, our sense of stability. But while redundancy is undeniably hard, it can also become a turning point, a moment to pause, reassess and rebuild with intention. This five-step framework is designed to guide you from shock to clarity, from stuckness to forward motion, and ultimately to thriving again.

Change doesn’t require us to become more certain. Often, it asks us to become more curious. Play is how we practise that, not as an escape from reality, but as a way back into it. Not everything has to be serious to be meaningful.

Sometimes the most important shifts begin when we allow ourselves to play.

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.

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.

When people hear I’ve written two books, Why Losing Your Job Could Be the Best Thing That Ever Happened to You (2020) and Another Door Opens (2025), they sometimes ask the question:

“What’s the difference between them?”

If you're considering a career change, you're not alone. Many of us reach a point where our current work no longer fits who we are or where we want to go. But knowing you want to change and knowing how to begin are two very different things.

Navigating change isn’t about controlling it, it’s about collaborating with it. By pausing, allowing emotions, playing, trying, and intentionally restarting, we create a relationship with change that is less about survival and more about evolution.

“Who do I want to be right now?”

It’s a question we often overlook, especially when life is unraveling, or ironically, when everything seems perfect. Yet it might be the most important question we can ask ourselves. Not tomorrow. Not someday. Right now.

“Resistance will tell you anything to keep you from doing your work. It will perjure, fabricate; it will seduce you. Resistance is always lying and always full of [it].” – Steven Pressfield

“People often fail to act on their good intentions because they do not specify when, where, and how they will act. ‘Implementation intentions’ help to automate goal-directed behaviour by linking situational cues to responses.” Dr Peter Gollwitzer

“We might be in the same ocean, but we are absolutely not in the same”