A good moment to pause

Central Park, Plovdiv, Bulgaria, August 2025

This week, I had four unique and separate conversations in completely different settings and within totally different contexts. One was about a challenging work dynamic in a team of highly over- and annoyingly under-achieving individuals, one was about some worrying behaviour of a child that has been spiralling for a while, one was about a relationship breakdown over a historical disagreement both partners simply couldn’t resolve, and one was about a perceived standstill on a career path.

In all four cases, there was a lot of juice in the story: real-life consequences, strong emotions, repeating patterns, and objectively speaking, behaviours one could quickly have opinions about. In all four cases, mistakes had been made, lines crossed, standards ignored, agreements broken and “right” moments missed. All these cases, looked like there was very little room to regain common ground or to even think up a plan to move forward. In each situation, all players sat firmly in their places, feeling unable to move. But they also felt very right about their position and the validity of their expectations, which clearly have not been met.

I know this frustration so well and I was tempted to stay just there with them, holding hands in the churning cycle of a reality that had been created and solidified. But luckily, under all this hopelessness I could sense something else too, something powerful, always present, which in this moment was entirely overlooked.

It struck me again, how quickly and deeply we get distracted by surface level sensations; words that were said, agreements that were not met, insecurities that come up, who was right and who was wrong, who should be doing things differently and why and most of all, how bad that made us feel.

There is so much advice out there on assertiveness and communication, on negotiation and on boundary setting. But this would have meant staying in the same level of thinking that got them to the place they found themselves in. I could see that the feeling of stuckness in each of these conversations was 100% coming from circling relentlessly in this unsolvable cycle of thought. Like a washing machine, that keeps on tumbling dirty laundry without ever changing the water.

There is one thing, I have come to see: In a churn like this, is no solution. There is effort and commotion, there is pain, energy wasted, a constant rearranging of the same arguments, more disagreement and more stuckness. All the while we are spinning ourselves further and further away from our own stronghold, our own ability to act wisely, with creativity, clarity and resolve. There is no heartfelt connection possible in a whirl of off-track thinking. All we can see in moments like this is how much we were wronged and how we need others or things out there to change for us to feel better.

In all four conversations there was a point to say: STOP.

They all had the same confusion going on: someone out there seems to be causing me to feel pain and I think I need to change that and them before I can be at peace again.

Every time this happens in a conflict, regardless of the context, we get to a stalemate. Even if we could dominate this battle by being more forceful than the other side, we won’t actually win or end the war.

This is where noticing comes in: Being in a churn like this feels reliably shit. It feels urgent, personal, pressured and comes with a big load attached. We feel pulled in different directions. It always creates a lot of thinking. Consequences we fear, experiences we don’t want to remember. It all looks incredibly real! That’s why it can be so tricky to spot. It feels justified. But luckily, it also comes with the same unmistakable flavour, that once you’ve recognised as off-track feeling, you can use it as a signpost next time to know when to say STOP.

Today, I am grateful it is as uncomfortable as it is, so that I can take notice and come back to myself. And sometimes, more often than I wish, I need someone else to point it out to me.

Underneath all four conversations, was something far more powerful and constant than any of the stories, accusations, exit strategies, putting feet downs and drawing lines. It was the quiet ‘I love my child, I can see how intense this must be for them’, ‘This project is my baby, but maybe I am a little too protective around it.’, or ‘I guess I was quite confrontational when we spoke, he didn’t really have anywhere to go but to push back.’ There was a true closeness and connection to the life partner, warm feelings and understanding for the colleagues, hope and excitement for creating something new in the business. There was a compassion for why the other side and oneself may have said or done what they did. There was a surprise appreciation for what they now knew to be true in this moment.

All this had been true all along but was invisible in rage. Just by taking a step back to pause it became obvious, and this totally changed the entire story.

Coming back to this space, to ourselves, or True North as I call it in this blog, always allows completely new ways of dealing with the trickiest of situations. Coming back to the good feeling for the child or partner, that deep connection that doesn’t ask for things in return, the one that just wants the best for the situation/project/relationship. Suddenly people see new ways of asking, listening, starting afresh. Suddenly, behaviour looks like yesterday’s news, not something that needs to be worked on or changed.

There is power in knowing about True North and noticing the signs when we are moving away from it.

The result of this approach can be quite undramatic, but powerful, long-term. It’s a softening, a new start, a smile of appreciation, a gesture of good will, a new way of listening and communicating, a noticing of positive changes, a new style of briefing or involvement, or a new agreement on working together. It comes with curiosity and an openness that just wasn’t there before. It often comes with the side effect, that you have a much clearer idea of why you are in this relationship in the first place.

There is no action plan to follow, no ultimatum to achieve, not even a compromise. We don’t have to allow behaviour that is unacceptable. We don’t have to sacrifice our boundaries. On the contrary. With wisdom and clarity, we can hold and communicate boundaries a thousand times better than with rage and frustration. It allows a fresh start from a completely different place. It might surprise you how well this is met by the other side.