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For the past few weeks, I’ve been sharing the journey of my entrepreneurial shift — the ups and downs, the joy of building a business, and what happens when you decide to slow down. Building a business is an act of creation. You can change it, transform it, close it, reinvent it. It’s like a canvas. You can do whatever you want with it. And yet, sometimes we limit ourselves with what we think a business should be, instead of treating it as a creation. So I’ve been walking myself through an experiment: taking a pause, slowing down, and giving things some space and silence. And I’m still very much in the middle of it. What happens when you stop achieving? One of the main things I’ve identified, both in myself and in the high-achieving leaders I work with, is that we often don’t know what to do with ourselves when we are not achieving or doing something. For me, spending the past weeks without signing new clients, creating, producing or building the things I’m so familiar with has been very uncomfortable. Because when you stop doing, other things start to surface. Some very old fears that I thought I was already free from have come back: the fear of not making it, the fear of not being useful, and the fear of being lost. And the main fear underlying behind all of those: the fear of not being in control. So I’m observing myself through this experiment. What does it feel like to be lost? How long can I stay with feeling unsure and unclear? How long can I handle not being in control and allow something else to emerge? I don’t necessarily need to solve these feelings. I’m trying to stay with them and see what they have to teach me. And something very interesting has happened. When I leave enough space, bigger ideas start to emerge. Ideas that I don’t think I could have accessed if I had continued doing, doing, doing. The strategic value of slowing down This experience has reinforced something for me: retreating from your business is not necessarily a luxury. It can be a strategic need. As a leader, founder or business owner, sometimes the best thing you can do is step away from the business and stop trying to make things happen. Especially now, in an era of AI where we can execute more and more things, faster and faster. But if the idea is weak, you simply execute on shaky foundation. What is increasingly asked from us as humans is the quality of our thoughts, our ideas and the depth behind them. I’ve found that the longer I wait and listen, the more those aha moments appear. I start to see the big picture beyond the bushes and the trees. I start to see the mountain. And if I hadn’t given myself that time, I would probably still be doing, doing, doing. That has been a big reminder for me. Going back before moving forward Every year, especially around the change of seasons, I like to stop and revisit what has happened. This time, I decided to go much deeper. I started by reviewing the numbers of my business over the past three years. What grew? What worked? What didn’t? I did a huge retrospective of the business. Then I started cleaning up the administration of my business: my CRM, the work I had done, the people I hadn’t followed up with, all the things that had accumulated while I was busy building. But one of the most interesting parts has been going back through the trainings and learnings I have absorbed over the past three years. I realized that I had been so focused on acquiring knowledge that I hadn’t actually integrated much of it. I was moving from one training to the next, from one learning to the next, without really stopping to absorb what I had already learned. Now, when I go back and study the material again, I receive another layer of depth from it. And I have had this thought several times: “Wow. The gold is already in my hands. I just forgot about it.” I also went back and read testimonials from people who have been through my containers and experienced transformation. Sometimes we need to look back at what we have already created to remember what is actually working. Letting ideas breathe Another practice that has been helping me is simply not acting immediately on every idea. I journal. I read. I study. I let ideas come. And then I give them space. If an idea is still there after a week, I look at it again. If it disappears, maybe it was simply an impulse from the mind — another attempt to create, control or move forward. I’m planting multiple seeds right now and see which ones actually grow. This is particularly interesting for me because I love creating new ideas. I love being in flow. But I can also very easily move from one thing to the next, chasing the next shiny object. So slowing down has also been a way of asking: Is this something I really want to build, or is this simply another idea that wants my attention? What would I create if money wasn’t the driver? The most profound question that started to emerge when I realized I could give myself more financial freedom and space. What would I really create from my heart if money was out of the equation? Of course, money is still part of reality. I have bills, a mortgage, a lifestyle and responsibilities. But if money wasn’t the primary driver, what would I actually choose to create? And one thing became very clear. I want to continue building deep containers with women and holding spaces for transformation. I just came back from our retreat in Portugal, and witnessing such profound change in such a short amount of time confirmed something for me. This is where my heart goes. This is the work I want to continue doing. And I want to create it from a place of expansion and freedom rather than scarcity. So what happens when you stop? This is the experiment I want to invite you into. What would happen if you slowed down? Not forever. Maybe for a day. A few days. A week. What happens when you’re not doing? What starts to feel shaky or uncomfortable? What fears come up? Because that discomfort might actually be showing you something. And once you stop filling every empty space with action, something else can emerge. A bigger idea. The right path for you, from a place of truth, not fears. Maybe you realize that what you were looking for isn’t actually something new. That the gold is already in your hands. Thanks for reading Rise and Play! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit riseandplay.substack.com

Welcome to a new episode of A Spark of Awareness. This week, I want to talk about something that has been a major theme in my own entrepreneurial journey: business partnerships, co-founders, collaboration, and trust. For a long time, I wore what I now recognize as the mask of the lone wolf. “I’m better by myself. I know what to do. I don’t need anyone.” I also wore the masks of the high achiever, the strong woman, and the person who could handle everything alone. Maybe you recognize yourself in some of these. The interesting thing is that these identities aren’t necessarily bad. At some point in our lives, they probably helped us. They became ways of protecting ourselves and creating a sense of safety. Being strong, independent and self-reliant can take us very far. But what protects us at one stage of our life can become a limitation at another. And that is what I have been discovering in my business. When independence becomes a limitation Over the past three years, I have become very good at building things independently. I created a business where I own my time, choose who I work with, decide how I work and have a lot of control over where I put my energy. There is a lot of freedom in that. But I also started to see the other side of it. I had become very comfortable being in charge, but I hadn’t learned equally well how to rely on others, receive support and build something with an equal. There is a big difference between working with a team member and working with a true partner. When you hire someone, there is still a hierarchy. You are ultimately the person making the decisions. You have authority, responsibility and control. But with a business partner or co-founder, you have to meet each other as equals. You can’t simply use authority or money to make things happen. You have to communicate, negotiate, trust, share responsibility and create something together. And that has been one of my biggest personal and professional challenges. The deeper question: Can I trust others? This has made me look beyond business strategy. Because the real question isn’t simply: “Should I have a business partner?” The deeper question is: “Can I trust another person enough to build with them?” And if not, why? For me, this question has connected to a lot of deeper inner work around trust, control, boundaries and my relationship with power. I realized that I had created a narrative that working with powerful people—particularly powerful men—could mean losing my own power. So I protected myself by creating distance. But that also meant I was limiting myself from collaborating with amazing people who had their own power, sovereignty and integrity. The problem wasn’t necessarily other people. It was my own capacity to trust, to collaborate and to remain grounded in myself while being in relationship with someone equally powerful. That required me to rewrite an old story. You can go faster alone. But can you go further together? One of the biggest stories I had to examine was this: “If I work with other people, I have to divide the wins.” Of course, that’s partly true. If you share a business, a project or an opportunity, you may also share the financial outcome. But I realized how limited that perspective was. Because if you only focus on maximizing what you get, you can miss what becomes possible when several people bring their strengths together. If you want to go fast, you can go alone. If you want to create greater impact, you need others. That has become increasingly clear to me. Over the past year, I have deliberately started experimenting with different forms of partnership. I’ve worked with people who understand marketing much better than I do. I’ve explored new platforms and advertising. I’ve started surrounding myself with people who can help me expand the reach of my work instead of trying to figure everything out myself. And I’ve discovered that this isn’t necessarily about maximizing profit margins. It’s about asking: What is the most powerful way to create the impact I want to create? Sometimes that means keeping everything in-house. Sometimes it means bringing in someone who can do something ten times better than you, or building something together. Your environment is part of your growth Another major shift for me has been moving out of my own bubble. For three years, I worked mostly from home. I was productive. I could organize my days exactly as I wanted. I didn’t see much need for a coworking space. But productivity isn’t the same thing as growth. Working alone also meant I was missing perspective, spontaneous conversations, new ideas and opportunities to co-create. So I started joining more curated communities and environments. I joined a co-creation coworking space where people actively connect, share ideas, create events and find ways to collaborate. I also joined a carefully curated network of founders and business leaders. And what I noticed was this: I didn’t just need to be a source of inspiration for others. I needed to be inspired by others, too. As a coach and mentor, I’m used to holding space for people, supporting their growth and helping them see things differently. But I also need people who challenge my thinking. People who have walked paths I haven’t walked yet. People who see things I don’t see. People who are a few steps ahead of me—and sometimes completely outside my frame of reference. That is where growth happens. Back Into Co-Founding The final experiment—and perhaps the biggest one—is that I’m opening myself to co-found a business with a partner again. I’ve co-founded several ventures in the past, and not all of those experiences were easy. There were difficult conversations, misalignment and complexity. At one point, I thought: “This is not for me anymore. I’m never going back there.” So I closed that door. And now, I’m opening it again. But I’m not entering partnership with the same identity I had before. I’m coming with more maturity, more experience and more awareness of what I need. I’ve learned that trust doesn’t mean abandoning your boundaries. A few reflections for your own business If you’re building something right now, I invite you to look at where you might be operating from the lone wolf archetype. Ask yourself: * Where am I doing everything myself when someone else could help me grow? * Where am I holding onto control because it makes me feel safe? * Do I actually want to maximize what I keep, or do I want to maximize the impact I can create? * What boundaries would I need in order to collaborate from a place of trust? * Who are the people I currently surround myself with? Are they reinforcing what I already know, or expanding the way I think? The most underlying question behind those questions: Am I building this business primarily for myself, or am I building it for the impact I want to create? Because those two questions can lead to very different choices. We are not meant to do everything alone One of the stories of modern entrepreneurship is that the successful founder is self-sufficient. The person who can do everything and doesn’t need anyone. “I have AI to build this and that.” But I increasingly believe that this isn’t the highest expression of leadership. We are human beings. We are wired for relationship, community and interdependence. And the next level of growth may not come from becoming more independent. It may come from becoming more capable of trusting, receiving, collaborating and creating together. This is something I’m learning myself. I’m still experimenting. I’m still navigating the transition in my business. And I’m still learning what the right partnerships look like. But I know now that closing the door to partnership because of what happened in the past can also mean closing the door to what might become possible in the future. And perhaps that’s the next chapter for me: not building alone, but learning how to build with others. A final reflection Take a moment today and ask yourself: Where might my need for control be limiting my growth? And what could become possible if I allowed myself to trust and create with others? Then take a breath, close your eyes if it feels comfortable, and simply notice what happens in your body when you imagine letting someone else in. That response might tell you more than your mind does. This episode is part of Sophie Vo’s A Spark of Awareness podcast, exploring the inner work behind leadership, entrepreneurship, transformation and creating a life and business from a place of greater alignment. Thanks for reading Rise and Play! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit riseandplay.substack.com

Welcome to another episode of A Spark of Awareness. This week, I want to share something very raw and very alive for me: what do we do when there is no hope left? I’m sharing this alongside my own process as an entrepreneur and founder, because building a business aligned with purpose is not a straight line. There are moments of expansion, moments of doubt, and moments when an old version of ourselves has to die before something new can emerge. I recently came back from Gamescom, after spending some time away from the gaming industry and going deeper into consciousness, working with founders, CEOs, and leaders in transition. Being back in that environment made something very clear to me: this is no longer my space. And that realization hit me harder than I expected. For years, being a gaming leader and working with gaming CEOs had been part of my identity. Coming back from the conference, I realized that I was grieving that identity. I felt depleted, confused, and without much hope for what would come next. I didn’t know whether I wanted to continue coaching, retreats, or even what kind of people I wanted to work with anymore. For a few days, everything looked negative. I think many of us know this place. We reach a point where we feel like we are at the bottom of a hole and cannot see the way forward. And when we are in that state for long enough, we can start believing that this feeling is reality. But it isn’t. What I’ve learned through my own coaching practice, and through working with many leaders, is that when you reach this place, the answer is often not to push harder. It is to stop. One thing that many high-achievers have a hard time to do. First, feel what is here The first thing we tend to avoid is actually the thing we need most: feeling the feelings. When I came back from Gamescom, I was incredibly sad. I cried. I felt grief. In the past, I would have judged myself for that. I would have thought, What is wrong with me? Why am I not happy? I have so much to be grateful for. But I have learned not to make myself wrong for feeling what I feel. Instead, I surrender to it. I inquired: What is this sadness about? And I realized I was grieving an old identity. I was grieving the version of myself that people knew from my gaming career, the persona I had built and become attached to. I was grieving something that had once been important to me but was no longer where I was going. Once I understood that, I didn’t need to fix the sadness. I just needed to let myself grieve. And that is often how we move through grief: we don’t bypass it. We go through it. Don’t make big decisions from an empty tank The second lesson is simple: don’t make major decisions when you are depleted. When I was feeling hopeless, I could feel my mind racing. I wanted to create a plan immediately. I wanted to know what client I should sign next, what I should send, what I should fix, what I should control. But underneath all of that was fear (hello again, friend!) My nervous system didn’t feel safe, and my mind was trying to regain control. So instead of following every thought, I simply observed it. Why do I need to control this right now? Why don’t I feel safe? And just noticing that started to calm things down. When your tank is empty, your perception becomes narrow. You don’t see possibilities clearly. You are not in the energy to create something new. You are simply trying to survive. So the priority is not strategy. The priority is you. For me, that meant sleeping, going back to yoga, taking care of my garden, spending time with people I love, and doing simple things that refilled my heart. Most importantly, I stopped asking myself, What am I going to do next? I gave myself permission not to know. Ask for help The next thing I did was ask for help. Not from my clients—I am the one holding the space for them—but from people who hold space for me. Mentors, my partner, and conscious people in my circle who could simply listen while I was feeling lost. Sometimes we don’t need someone to give us the answer. We just need someone to witness what we’re going through. There is a lot of healing in being witnessed without having to perform, explain, or solve anything. And slowly, when the energy comes back, something interesting happens. Perspective returns. The light comes back A few days later, I woke up completely differently. I had energy again. I felt almost like a warrior, ready to face things again. But from a new perspective. And suddenly, some of the things that had felt overwhelming became very simple. There was one practical example: my accountant had been difficult to reach for months, and I had been receiving warnings from the Finanzamt about late submissions. I had spent weeks going back and forth in my mind about whether I should wait, call again, or try to fix it. And suddenly I had a very clear thought: I don’t have to fight this. I can simply stop working with him and find another way. The situation hadn’t changed dramatically. I had changed. And from that new state, I could see things differently. I also started seeing my business differently. Instead of panicking about what I needed to fix, I could see that I was actually in the middle of a much bigger transition. Three years of building had prepared me for something beyond the gaming industry. There was a bigger vision emerging: a network and movement for conscious leaders. That insight could not have come while I was depleted and desperately trying to find an answer. It came when I gave myself enough space to grieve, rest, refill, and listen. There is always a rebirth after the death This is what I want to leave you with if you are currently in a place where you feel hopeless. You are probably in a cycle. Something may be ending. An identity, a relationship, a business model, an old dream, a way of seeing yourself. And when something dies, it can feel like there is nothing left. But there is often a seed already forming underneath it. You don’t have to know what that seed will become yet. You don’t have to rush to create a plan. You don’t have to force yourself to be positive or pretend that everything is fine. Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is to stop, feel what is here, take care of yourself and trust the cycle. There is light again. There is always another chapter. And this is also why I believe retreats and spaces for deep inner work are so valuable for leaders. We rarely give ourselves enough space to step outside the noise of our businesses and see the bigger picture. Sometimes we need to step away from the forest before we can see where we are actually going. A simple practice for when you feel hopeless Take a few minutes and close your eyes. Breathe slowly, allowing your breath to become longer and softer. You can breathe in for five seconds and out for five seconds. Then bring your attention to your body. Where do you feel the grief, sadness, fear, or hopelessness? Maybe it is in your heart, your belly, your chest, or somewhere else. You don’t need to change it. Simply place your hand there if that feels supportive and breathe into that space. Ask yourself gently: What am I feeling? What am I grieving? What am I trying to control? What would happen if, just for today, I didn’t have to solve it? Stay there for a few minutes. The path forward rarely appears when we are forcing a path. Sometimes it appears only after we stop looking. You just have to stay there long enough to see. Thanks for reading Rise and Play! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit riseandplay.substack.com

In this episode of A Spark of Awareness, I want to share something very personal: how forgiving my father became one of the deepest turning points in my life, my relationships, and my business. We often look outside ourselves when something isn’t working. When a business struggles, we look at the market, the strategy, the economy, or our clients. When a relationship breaks down, we look at the other person. But sometimes the biggest shift doesn’t come from changing anything outside of us. It comes from understanding what is happening within us. Over the past year, my business has expanded into new spaces, from working with people in technology and venture capital to conscious leadership and retreats. But I realized that for my work to make a quantum leap, I also had to make a quantum leap within myself. No investor, coach, friend, or external opportunity could make that leap for me. That realization became especially clear after a painful separation last year. I had spent much of my life believing that if I made good choices and had a good plan, I could keep things under control. Then a relationship I had invested deeply in ended, and many of the plans I had for my future disappeared with it. I had to face the uncomfortable truth that I am not in control of everything. Instead of trying to rebuild the old plan, I began asking myself what my life and relationships had been trying to show me. What patterns was I repeating? What was happening inside me that was attracting certain experiences? Through that process, I discovered something I had understood intellectually for years but had never fully embodied: I didn’t completely trust other people. I had experienced betrayal and situations where I felt controlled, used, or taken advantage of. I had learned to rely primarily on myself. That had made me strong and independent, but it had also created a layer of protection around my heart. I could explain the pattern. I could analyze where it came from. But knowing something intellectually is very different from actually being free from it. Eventually, I reached the source of it: my relationship with my father. I realized that much of the resentment I had carried toward men in my life was connected to what I had experienced with him. I had felt controlled, unheard, and pressured to fulfill expectations that weren’t necessarily my own. And for years, I had unconsciously been looking for something from other men that I had never received from him: acknowledgement and an apology. At some point, I understood that I might never receive those words. So I had to find another way to become free. For me, forgiveness wasn’t an intellectual decision. It meant going back to the hurt itself and allowing myself to see my father differently—not only as my father, but as a young man who had left Vietnam at eighteen, lost many of his own dreams through war and displacement, and had to rebuild his life from almost nothing. I began to see that he, too, had carried wounds, shame, disappointment, and a sense of failure that he didn’t necessarily have the tools to process. Some of what he carried had been passed on to me. And I realized that I didn’t have to carry it anymore. After one particularly deep period of inner work, I wrote my father an eleven-page letter containing everything I had never said. I eventually burned it. I didn’t need him to read it anymore. I needed those words to leave me. Something shifted after that. I felt less distrustful, less guarded, and more open to life. And perhaps most importantly, I stopped feeling that I needed external achievements to prove that I was worthy. I didn’t need to become a mother, build a huge company, become popular, or be recognized in order to feel that I was enough. I began to feel that nothing was missing. Happiness is what’s there when you remove the sense that something is missing in your life — Naval Ravikant And from that place, I started building differently. Instead of asking, What can this business give me? recognition, success, money, popularity, validation… I could ask, What does the world need? What am I here to create, of value for the world? That distinction has changed the way I lead my work. I can listen more deeply. I can change direction when something no longer feels relevant. I can allow my business to evolve without feeling that my identity or worth is attached to it. Because I am not my business. This is also why my work has been evolving toward conscious leadership, retreats, deeper human connection, and spaces where people can reconnect with themselves and others. I see a growing need for this in a world where technology and AI can increasingly provide information and efficiency, while human beings are still searching for meaning, connection, love, and belonging. So if you are trying to change something in your life or business, I invite you to look beyond the surface problem. Instead of only asking, What should I change externally?, ask yourself what might be underneath it. Where did you first learn not to trust? What are you still protecting yourself from? What are you trying to prove? And what are you carrying that doesn’t actually belong to you? Because sometimes the obstacle to your next level isn’t your strategy. It’s an old pattern still running underneath it. For me, forgiving my father didn’t change him. It changed me. And because I changed, my relationship with my work, my relationships, my partnerships, and my future changed too. That is the paradox I’ve experienced: sometimes the fastest way to create an external quantum leap is to stop forcing the outside world to change and have the courage to go deeper within. The real transformation starts there. Thanks for reading Rise and Play! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit riseandplay.substack.com

In the reality of human work and collaboration today, it is inevitable to face at work intense moments of emotion (stress, anger, fear, frustration, grief…). When those emotions are suppressed in teams and leadership, they slowly cause stress, resentment and when unwatched, mental or physical health problems and burnout. According to Gallup and Deloitte research (2025): * Around 48% of employees report experiencing burnout at work. * 82% of executives report experiencing symptoms of exhaustion or burnout * Only 20% of employees worldwide are engaged at work We can’t discard the trend. The future of work and good leadership is in the ability of managing stress and emotional health at work. But most executives and employees were never trained for it, neither in personal or professional life. And when leaders are constantly operating from stress, that energy doesn’t stay with them. It trickles down into teams, relationships, decision-making and ultimately into what the organization creates. When we are stressed, our nervous system moves into survival mode: fight, flight or freeze. Our thinking becomes narrower. We become more focused on protecting ourselves than creating, innovating or taking thoughtful risks. This is why self-regulation is not just a wellness practice. It is a leadership skill. Let me share this week two very simple practices, especially when you have a high-demand job. 1. Heart-focused breathing The first is heart-focused breathing, inspired by the work of the HeartMath Institute. It is a simple way to interrupt the momentum of stress and give yourself a moment before reacting. Bring your attention to the centre of your chest and imagine your breath flowing in and out through your heart area. Then breathe slowly: five seconds in, five seconds out, for around five minutes. You can use it in the morning, before a difficult conversation or presentation, when you feel activated, between meetings, or at the end of your workday to create a transition into your personal life. A good routine is to pause and practice the heart breathing three times a day. The goal isn’t to make the stress disappear. It is to create enough space to choose your response rather than acting from your automatic reaction. 2. The one-minute self-awareness check-in After the breathing, take one more minute to simply notice yourself. What am I feeling right now? Where do I feel it in my body? Are you tense? Angry? Anxious? Frustrated? Sad? Calm? You don’t need to fix anything. Just notice. Our emotional state changes the way we perceive situations. The same difficult message can feel like an attack when we’re exhausted and completely manageable when we’re grounded. This is particularly important for leaders. Before asking “What is the right decision?”, we can also ask: “From what state am I making this decision?” Fear, anger and exhaustion can all influence the way we lead without us realizing it. Come back to yourself I believe one of the biggest challenges for leaders today is not access to information or intelligence. AI can already process more information than we ever could. The challenge is increasingly ourselves: how we regulate, how we respond under pressure, how we hold uncertainty, and how we protect our energy and vitality. Your team doesn’t only experience your words. They experience your state. So for the next 28 days, try this simple practice: five minutes of heart-focused breathing, followed by one minute of self-awareness. Do it every day. And observe what changes. Perhaps you react differently and notice your emotions earlier. Can you feel more space before reacting? Do you feel more grounded? The practice is simple. The transformation comes through repetition and new habits. You don’t have to be at the mercy of your stress. Let me know how it goes after 28 days 🙏 About HeartMath Institute HeartMath Institute (HMI) is a nonprofit research and education organization dedicated to helping people build resilience, emotional balance, and clarity through practical, science-based tools and technologies. HeartMath techniques and heart rhythm coherence feedback technologies are used worldwide in workplaces, schools, healthcare settings, families, and communities to reduce stress and support well-being in real, everyday situations. Beyond The Mind: The Science of Plant Medicines Watch The Masterclass Replay Thanks for reading Rise and Play! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit riseandplay.substack.com

Over the past year, my work has been taking me deeper into a question that has been sitting underneath much of my coaching practice: what happens when we have already done a lot of the work in the mind, but something is still keeping us from living our full potential? As a coach, I have spent years working with leaders on strategy, decision-making, self-awareness, leadership, relationships, purpose and business. And yet, again and again, I have seen that knowing something intellectually does not necessarily mean that we can change it. We can understand why we behave the way we do. We can talk about our fears, our childhood patterns and our limiting beliefs. We can even have a very clear vision of the person we want to become. And still, we repeat the same patterns. This is what eventually led me to explore another dimension of the work: the wisdom of the body, the intelligence of the heart and, eventually, plant medicine. For this episode of A Spark of Awareness, I invited Omar M’Rabet Gomez to have a conversation about his own journey with plant medicine, what he has learned through almost three decades of working with these traditions, and why so many leaders are increasingly curious about this work. This is not an invitation to see plant medicine as the answer to everything. There are many paths to transformation. But for some people, it can be a powerful catalyst for going beyond the patterns of the mind and accessing something that has been difficult to reach through conventional approaches alone. From the corporate world to the jungle Omar’s story is very different from mine, but there was something very familiar in it. Born in Mexico, he grew up with a strong connection to nature and spent much of his youth seeking out indigenous communities and learning from people who had maintained a relationship with nature that modern society has, in many ways, forgotten. Long before plant medicine became a mainstream conversation, Omar was traveling, spending time with indigenous communities and learning from them. His first experience with peyote happened in Mexico, followed years later by his first experience with Ayahuasca in the Amazon in 2004. At the time, very little was known publicly about these traditions. There were no Instagram accounts explaining how to prepare for a ceremony, no mainstream podcasts and very little public conversation about psychedelics. He entered this world through direct experience. What happened in those early ceremonies profoundly changed him. He describes experiences of forgiveness, self-love and a deep sense of connection. One of the most important realizations for him was what he calls radical unconditional self-love. But what struck me most about Omar’s story is that he did not immediately leave the corporate world and become a facilitator. He went back. He worked in business. He managed a law firm. He lived a very material, successful life. And yet, something was missing. Eventually, a series of profound life events brought him back to the path he had encountered in the jungle and ultimately led him to build a healing centre and dedicate his life to this work. Looking back, he says something that stayed with me: he didn’t build the healing centre to heal other people. He built it to heal himself. Helping others became a byproduct of his own healing journey. And perhaps this is an important distinction for anyone working in the space of transformation: We cannot guide others where we have not been. Why are leaders drawn to plant medicine? One of the questions I wanted to explore with Omar was why so many high-performing leaders and entrepreneurs are increasingly curious about psychedelics and plant medicine. Because this is not only happening in spiritual communities. Omar has worked with people from all walks of life: electricians, mechanics, mothers, entrepreneurs, executives and CEOs of some of the world’s largest companies. And according to his experience, the most powerful leaders often encounter the same fundamental challenges as everyone else. They get in their own way. Behind the performance, the success, the intelligence and the ability to make decisions, there can be self-doubt, imposter syndrome, fear, the need for recognition and a deep attachment to control. The more successful someone becomes, the more sophisticated the protection mechanisms can become. You can build an incredible company while simultaneously building an identity around being the person who cannot fail. You can become a CEO while secretly wondering whether you are good enough. You can have millions in the bank and still be afraid that everything could disappear tomorrow. You can become very powerful externally while feeling insecure internally. This is where Omar believes plant medicine can become a powerful catalyst. It can help people step outside the usual patterns through which they perceive themselves and their lives. Not because the medicine magically fixes anything, but because it can create an experience where you are able to see yourself, your story and your patterns from a different perspective. The biggest barrier is ourselves One of the themes that came up repeatedly in our conversation was control. Leaders are often rewarded for being in control. Control the strategy. Control the numbers. Control the team. Control the outcome. Control the risk. But what happens when control becomes the way we navigate our entire life? Omar shared a simple metaphor that stayed with me. Imagine holding a handful of sand. If you squeeze it as hard as you can because you are trying to control it, the sand will escape through your fingers. But if you hold it gently, it can remain in your hand. The same can happen with life. Sometimes, the harder we try to control an outcome, the more resistance we create around it. And this is particularly interesting for high achievers because the very qualities that helped them succeed can eventually become the things that limit them. Discipline can become rigidity. Ambition can become exhaustion. Focus can become obsession. Self-reliance can become isolation. Confidence can become an inability to receive help. And control can become an inability to surrender. But going beyond the mind does not mean becoming passive. This was an important point in our conversation. Being in flow is not about doing nothing and waiting for the universe to solve your problems. It is not about abandoning ambition or responsibility. It is about removing some of the unnecessary weight that we carry while pursuing what matters to us. The backpack we carry up the mountain Omar gave another metaphor that I loved. Imagine that you are climbing a mountain. You are determined to reach the top, but you are carrying a huge backpack filled with everything you have accumulated throughout your life: past relationships, childhood wounds, fears, limiting beliefs, negative thought loops, expectations and identities. You can still climb the mountain. But it is going to be much harder. Plant medicine, in his experience, can sometimes help people look inside that backpack and ask: Do I still need to carry all of this? Maybe the goal is not to stop climbing. Maybe the goal is to climb without carrying what no longer belongs to you. This is where I see a very interesting connection with leadership. Many leaders are not lacking ambition. They are not lacking intelligence. They are not lacking discipline. They are carrying too much. And sometimes the next level of performance does not come from adding another strategy, another course, another productivity system or another goal. It comes from releasing what is consuming the energy that could otherwise be available for creation. What are you afraid will happen if you change? There is also a deeper fear that comes up when we talk about this work: who will I be if I change? I have heard this question many times in my coaching practice. What if I don’t want to run my company anymore? What if I stop wanting the promotion? What if I don’t care about the money anymore? What if I want to build something completely different? What if I become a different person? For many leaders, their ambition has become deeply connected to their identity. The fear is not necessarily of failing. The fear is of discovering that the thing they have been chasing for the last 10, 15 or 20 years is no longer what they actually want. And that can be terrifying. Because if you have built your entire identity around being successful, what happens when your definition of success changes? This is where I believe the work becomes much deeper than performance coaching. It becomes a question of identity. Who are you underneath the achievement? Who are you when nobody is watching? Who are you without the title? Who are you without the company? Who are you without the recognition? Who are you when you no longer need to prove anything? Plant medicine can sometimes open the door to these questions very quickly. But the questions themselves are available to all of us, with or without medicine. Why now? Another question we explored was why this conversation is becoming so present now. For me, there is something happening collectively. We have never been more connected digitally, and yet many people have never felt more disconnected from themselves, from nature and from each other. We are constantly stimulated, consuming information, looking at screens. Receiving notifications, messages and opinions. And our ability to simply be present is becoming increasingly difficult. For leaders, this is amplified. They are making decisions in an environment of constant uncertainty, rapid technological change, AI, economic pressure and competition. The old model was already intense. The speed of the new world is even faster. And perhaps the answer is not to make humans operate even faster. Perhaps it is to develop another form of intelligence: one that is not only analytical, but that also includ

There is something I have been noticing more and more in my conversations with clients, friends, and former colleagues in tech and games: there is a growing fatigue with the industry. People are tired of working in tech. They are tired of working in digital. They are tired of games. And when we look at the games industry, it is no longer experiencing the same golden years that many of us who built our careers in the industry experienced. Week after week, we read about thousands of layoffs. People who thought they were safe suddenly lose their jobs. Some find another position, only to lose it again six months or a year later. Others keep applying and eventually reach a point where their nervous system simply cannot take it anymore. They feel exhausted. Unmotivated. Disconnected from their work. Sometimes they leave. Sometimes they are eventually let go because they are no longer able to perform at their best. If you find yourself in this place, first of all, know that you are not alone. Probably thousands of people are asking themselves the same questions right now: Am I in the right place? Am I doing the right thing? Does it still make sense for me to spend the next ten years of my life this way? And when is the right time to change? These are not only career questions. They are questions about identity, safety, purpose, time and energy. You could call it a mid-career or midlife crisis, and yes, I believe it is real. At a certain point in life, we naturally start asking ourselves: How do I want to spend my time? Where do I want to put my energy and my talent? Does what I am doing still make sense to me? From my coaching work, I have noticed that this process tends to move through seven different stages. They are not necessarily perfectly linear, and everyone experiences them differently, but they offer a useful map for understanding what happens when you are ready—or eventually forced—to change something about your work and your career. 1. The Trigger There is usually a trigger. Something happens that forces you to examine whether you are still in the right place. It can be an external event, such as losing your job, a reorganisation, a company closing, or simply seeing what is happening in the market and realising that the environment you built your career in is changing. It can also be much more internal. You start noticing that your health is suffering, that you are exhausted, that you no longer feel passionate about what you are doing, or that you are simply asking yourself whether this is really how you want to spend the next decade. With the rise of AI and automation, there is another question emerging as well: Does it still make sense to spend years developing skills that machines are increasingly able to perform? I see two very different ways people respond to this trigger: The first is to take ownership. They notice the wind is changing and decide they would rather initiate the transition while they still have resources, energy and choice. They don’t want to wait until they are forced to change. They want to own their destiny. The second is denial. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I don’t need to change. I don’t want to change.” But if something inside you has already started shifting, ignoring it does not necessarily make it disappear. Eventually, the trigger becomes impossible to ignore. And for many people, that is when the second stage begins. 2. The Dance I call this stage the dance because it is a constant back and forth between the old and the new. One moment, you think, I’m ready. I want to change my life. Then the next moment, you convince yourself that everything is actually fine. “Maybe I don’t need to do this.” “What if I lose my friendships if I leave this industry?” “What if I don’t have enough money?” “What if I made the wrong decision?” “What if I end up under a bridge?” I have heard all kinds of versions of these stories in coaching. This is where the mind starts producing every possible argument against change. It is the ego trying to protect the identity it knows. Even when the current situation is no longer working, the familiar still feels safer than the unknown. And sometimes, if you can create a little distance from these thoughts, there is almost something humorous about the stories we create to avoid doing the work. But this dance is part of human evolution. Growing means letting something die. It means adapting, rebuilding, and sometimes creating a completely new identity. So if you are in this back-and-forth right now, it does not necessarily mean you are doing something wrong. It may simply mean you are in the middle of the transition. Eventually, however, the dance becomes exhausting. 3. Pain, Anger and the Threshold At some point, you get tired of going back and forth. Your mind becomes exhausted. Your body starts talking to you. You may notice health symptoms, chronic stress, frustration, anger or a growing sense that you simply cannot continue this way. This is often the moment when people who have been avoiding the decision are finally forced to confront it. I have clients who arrive at this stage saying, “I’m done. I’m tired of myself. I don’t know what to do anymore, but I know I can’t keep doing this.” The pain becomes greater than the fear of change. And that creates a threshold. Sometimes the trigger was enough to make someone move. Sometimes it takes years of discomfort before they finally reach this point. But eventually, something in the body says: enough. This is also why I pay so much attention to the body in my work. When the mind has spent years negotiating, rationalising and creating arguments, sometimes it is the body that finally tells the truth. 4. The Decision The fourth stage is the decision. And this is a very important distinction in my coaching work: I don’t want to work against someone’s will to change. There is very little point in pushing someone toward a new direction when they have not actually decided that they want something different. The decision creates momentum. “I’m done with this phase.” “I want to own my time.” “I want more stability and financial freedom.” “I want to feel vitality again, in my life and my work.” Once the decision is made in the body, something shifts. I experienced this myself in my career. Twice, I had the experience of receiving a surprise call telling me that my team was being made redundant, or that I was being made redundant, and that everything I had built would stay with the company. The first time, I told myself I would change something, but then I let the year happen. I tried another job. And then it happened again. That second time, I paid attention. I remember thinking, No more. That was the moment, three years ago, when I decided to own my time and own how I spend my energy and what I build. I did not want to spend my life knowing that someone in a company could simply make a decision one day and sweep the ground from underneath me again. That is why I built my own business. Today, I own my time. I work when I want to work. I don’t work when I don’t want to work. It is a gift, but it is also something I built for myself. And this is what I tell people I work with: it starts with a decision. It is not always a question of capacity. It is first a question of whether you believe you are ready to choose differently. 5. Grief But deciding to change does not mean that everything suddenly feels good. There is grief. Because when you change careers, a part of you is going to die. Maybe it is a fifteen-year career. Maybe it is twenty years. Maybe it is the identity of the achiever, the successful executive, the expert, the CEO, the person who knows exactly how the system works. Those identities often gave us something very important: safety. When I left my corporate career, I had to go through this myself. I had been quite known in gaming and associated with big companies and big titles. I had to ask myself: Who am I when I don’t have the glow of PlayStation, Voodoo, or another big company behind me? Who am I when I am no longer the CEO or the leader? That is a big part of career change that we don’t talk about enough. You are not simply changing what you do. You are letting go of who you thought you were. And that requires grief. 6. Acceptance After grief comes acceptance. Acceptance that the person you were is no longer who you are. Acceptance that your lifestyle may change. Acceptance that some relationships may change. Acceptance that the way you relate to money, success, purpose and even your own identity may be completely different. When I look back at my own transition, I also had to examine my relationship with money and status. At one point, I was earning very well and spending a lot because I felt that if I worked that hard, I deserved to spend that money. Restaurants, expensive things, a lifestyle that was partly compensating for how much time and energy I was giving to work. When I changed my life, I realised I didn’t actually need as much. My relationship with money changed because my relationship with myself changed. I didn’t need to compensate for what was missing in my life by buying things or creating a lifestyle that proved I was successful. Acceptance is also about asking a much bigger question: What am I actually here for? Am I here to maximise profit for shareholders? Or am I here to create something I genuinely believe is valuable for other people and for the world? That shift can change everything. 7. The New Self And then comes the seventh stage: the new identity. This is where the deepest work begins. When you strip away the job title, the company, the status, the salary, the industry, the role and the professional identity, who are you? Many people know exactly who they are when they are employed. They know how to operate within the system. They have learned the rules. They know how money works, how st

FREE Masterclass “Beyond The Mind: The Science Of Plant Medicines” 📅 Date: August 11 🕒 Time: 18:00 CET / 9:00 PST / 12:00 EST After working with hundreds of founders, executives, and leaders, I have started to notice something that comes up again and again in my coaching sessions. People rarely come to me saying, “I need to understand myself.” They come with a business problem. I have a problem with my team. I want to raise money. I need to grow my revenues. I want to feel more grounded. I feel stressed. I don’t know what to do with my company. And of course, those problems matter. Vision and strategy matters. Product-market fit matters. The business fundamentals matter. But very often, they are not the real problem. They are the symptom. From the first few sessions, we usually start moving beyond what is happening on the surface of the business and into a much deeper question: what is actually preventing you from doing what you already know you need to do? What is preventing you from having the difficult conversation, making the decision, letting go, taking the risk, or looking honestly at ‘Why’ you built this company in the first place? Because when we create enough space, confidentiality, and safety, something very human tends to appear underneath the business story: the unexamined truth. And after working with over hundreds of leaders, I keep seeing the same themes. What Are You Really Looking For Through Your Business? The first is the need to feel safe. Many people build businesses because they believe that having their own company will finally give them the security they couldn’t find elsewhere. They want enough money in the bank so they don’t have to worry anymore. They want financial freedom. They want to be in control of their own future. They want to work with conditions that don’t make them feel controlled, sick or burnt out. And I understand this deeply. But there is an interesting contradiction here: building your own business is one of the least predictable ways to create safety. You don’t know where the next revenues will come from. You don’t know whether the market will change. You don’t know whether your company will survive. And yet, I see people leave corporate (or being forced to) because they didn’t feel safe there, believing that entrepreneurship will finally make them feel safe. The difficult realisation is that if you don’t feel safe internally, changing the external environment will not solve the problem. You can leave the company. You can build your own business. You can eventually make more money. You may have millions in the bank. And the nervous system can still be asking, “But what if it all disappears? is it enough?” There is no external place where you can permanently install yourself into safety. At some point, the work becomes learning how to create a sense of safety from within. The second theme I see is the need to feel seen. Some people build because they need to express something. They are creatives, builders, artists, entrepreneurs. They want to create something that represents who they are. They want to make an impact. But what’s behind, they want to be recognised. Again, there is nothing wrong with that. We all have a fundamental human need to matter. But what happens when there is no end to the need to be seen? You reach a million followers, and you want two million. You raise ten million, and the next milestone becomes twenty. You receive thousands of likes on LinkedIn, and somehow you still don’t feel recognised. Because being seen externally doesn’t necessarily create the feeling of being worthy internally. And this is where we often return to the same place: safety. When I feel seen, I feel that I matter. When I matter, I feel worthy. When I feel worthy, I feel that I belong. And when I belong, I feel safe. The third theme is connection and belonging. Building a company can give you a community. It can give you a social identity. There is a particular status attached to saying, “I’m a founder,” or “I’m a CEO.” You belong to a certain club. At a networking event, you don’t introduce yourself as “I’m just Sophie.” You have a title. You have a company. You have a story. And there is nothing wrong with enjoying that. But again, the question is: what are you actually trying to receive from the business? Are you building because you have something meaningful to contribute? Or because the business gives you something you are trying to find within yourself? The Uncomfortable Question This is where coaching becomes interesting. When someone feels safe enough to really look at the deeper why, we can ask a question that is sometimes very uncomfortable: If you already felt safe, worthy, and loved, would you still be chasing this? Would you still need this particular title? Would you still need the exit? Would you still need the millions? Would you still need everyone to know your name? If the answer is yes. That’s beautiful. Because you are building from choice. But most of the time, the answer is no. And that is where the real work begins. Because if the business is compensating for something that feels empty inside, there is no amount of business success that will permanently fill that space. You may make more money. You may build a bigger company. You may become more recognised. But the emptiness remains. And this is not a judgment. I have been there too. When Fear Becomes the Culture What concerns me is what happens when these individual patterns become organisational patterns. If a founder is building from fear, that fear doesn’t stay inside the founder. It becomes part of the company. The pressure to grow becomes part of the culture. The obsession with market share becomes part of the culture. The fear of failure becomes part of the culture. And suddenly everyone in the organisation is operating from the same underlying insecurity. This is something I see particularly strongly in tech and games right now. When I speak to people in the industry, I don’t hear anymore “I love my job. I feel creative. I feel passionate about what I’m building.” More often, I hear, “It’s okay. I don’t know how long I’ll stay. I’m just doing my job. I don’t know what comes next.” There is a lot of fear. Fear of losing your job. Fear of not finding another one. Fear of being left behind by AI. Fear of what happens when fifteen years of experience in an industry suddenly no longer guarantees you a place in it. And when an entire industry enters that state, I think it is worth asking what the collective psyche of that industry looks like. What are we creating when everyone is operating from fear? Who can think creatively when they are primarily trying to protect themselves? Who can create meaningful value when everyone is trying to survive? Who Are You Without the Title? There is another question I find increasingly important for leaders today: Who are you when you are no longer your job? We have created such strong identities around our professional roles that losing a job can feel like losing ourselves. “I’ve been in tech for fifteen years.” “I’m a CEO.” “I’m a founder.” “This is what I do.” But what happens when that role disappears? What happens when the company is sold, when the business fails, when you retire, when the industry changes, or when AI transforms the work you spent twenty years mastering? These are not only career questions. They are identity questions. And I believe we are entering a period where many people will have to answer them. Awareness Comes Before Change So where do we go from here? For me, it always starts with self-awareness. Do you actually know why you are doing what you are doing? Why did you build this company? Why are you still in this job? Why is this particular milestone so important to you? Are you choosing this life consciously, or are you following a survival program that has been running for years? There is nothing wrong with being in survival mode when survival is genuinely what is required. The question is whether it is still necessary, or whether it has simply become your default. Because once we become aware of the pattern, we have a choice. And that brings us to the second step: decision. Who do you want to be? How do you want to spend your time? What do you want to give your energy to? What kind of life do you actually want to build? This is where many leaders become stuck. They know. They know they are self-sabotaging. They know they are not in the right place. They know something needs to change. And still, they don’t move. Why Knowing Isn’t Enough The reason is often fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of losing control. Fear of making the wrong decision. Fear of leaving something you’ve invested years into. We can spend months creating spreadsheets, comparing pros and cons, building elaborate plans and trying to calculate the perfect moment to move. But sometimes there is no perfect moment. There is simply a moment when you decide. And that decision is not always a cognitive process. Sometimes it is a movement. A willingness to step out of the familiar and create enough momentum to move into something new. That can happen through coaching, a mastermind, a community, accountability, or simply creating a container where you are no longer able to stay in the same place indefinitely. Because the status quo is incredibly comfortable, even when it is making you miserable. The Slow Death of Staying the Same This is something I have become increasingly aware of in myself. I would rather feel fully alive and experience the full range of emotions that come with being alive than live in a state of neutrality. Because when we stay in the comfort zone for too long, something slowly disappears. Not necessarily your physical life, but your sense of aliveness. You stop feeling excited. You stop feeling curious. Y

FREE Masterclass “Beyond The Mind: The Science Of Plant Medicines” 📅 Date: August 11 🕒 Time: 18:00 CET / 9:00 PST / 12:00 EST In last week’s episode, I explored the idea of survival patterns and asked a simple question: Who are you when you’re no longer trying to survive? As I reflected on that conversation, I realised there is another question that naturally follows. Who are you beneath the Mask you’ve been wearing for so long? Because surviving is only one part of the story. The other part is the identity we create in order to survive. I believe every one of us wears a mask. It is part of being human. It is how we learn to live in society, how we navigate relationships, and how we adapt to the world around us. The problem is not that we wear masks. The problem is that, over time, we begin to mistake them for who we really are. Our authentic self slowly disappears beneath the personality we have carefully constructed to feel safe, accepted and loved. Very early in life, we begin receiving messages about who we should be. Sometimes they are explicit. A parent tells us we are too shy, too loud, too emotional or too sensitive. A teacher tells us we are not trying hard enough. Children at school make fun of our appearance or the way we speak. Sometimes the messages are never spoken, yet they are deeply felt. We realise that expressing anger is not welcome. Crying is seen as weakness. Being different risks rejection. As children, we don’t have the capacity to analyse these experiences. We simply adapt. Looking back, it is remarkable how intelligent this adaptation is. At that age, our nervous system has one priority above all else: survival. We need to feel safe. We need to belong. We need to be loved. If being ourselves threatens those fundamental needs, we naturally become someone else. That is how the mask is born. The mask isn’t fake. It isn’t manipulative. It is one of the most intelligent strategies our nervous system could create with the resources it had at the time. The challenge comes later, when the strategy that once protected us continues running our lives long after the danger has disappeared. This is something I observe often in leadership. Many leaders believe they are simply expressing their personality, when in reality they are expressing a survival strategy. The leader who always has to know the answer may be wearing the mask of the expert because knowledge once created safety. The leader who avoids conflict at all costs may be wearing the mask of the nice person because harmony once protected them from rejection. The entrepreneur who rejects every form of authority may be wearing the mask of the rebel because resistance once felt safer than trust. The woman who insists she needs no one may be wearing the mask of independence because vulnerability once led to disappointment. These masks often bring success. They help us build careers, companies and reputations. They help us belong to a particular tribe or professional culture. But success does not necessarily mean authenticity. Eventually, many people arrive at a point where they have followed every step they believed they were supposed to follow. They have built the company. They have earned the recognition. They have become financially independent. And yet something still feels missing. It is often because the mask achieved everything. But the person beneath it was never invited into the room. As I reflected on my own journey, I recognised several masks that shaped the way I moved through life. One of the strongest was the rebel. Growing up, I inherited a deep mistrust of authority. My father had lived through war, displacement and political oppression. Distrusting authority had once been a survival strategy. Without realising it, I adopted that same relationship to power. As an adult, I questioned managers almost instinctively. I challenged institutions. I resisted teachers. Even healthy forms of authority felt threatening because my nervous system had learned that authority meant danger. For a long time, I believed this made me free. Only later did I realise I was still reacting to a reality that no longer existed. The rebel had protected me. But she was also limiting my capacity to collaborate, trust and grow. Another mask I carried was over-independence. For many years, I believed strength meant not needing anyone. If I could build my career, my company and my life on my own, then nobody could hurt me. Looking back, I can see that independence wasn’t really the goal. Protection was. The deeper wound wasn’t about achievement. It was about trust. Healing that part of myself changed not only my personal relationships but also the way I see leadership today. When I first created women’s circles, there was an energy of protection. Women needed a place where they could reconnect with themselves in safety. I still believe deeply in those spaces. But something has shifted in me. Today, my vision is no longer about creating separation between men and women. It is about facilitating enough healing that we no longer need separation in order to feel safe. The work is not to remain inside the mask forever. The work is to become whole enough that we can relate to one another without needing it. That, for me, is the real invitation behind this episode. Not to reject the masks we wear. Not to judge them. But to become aware of them. Every mask once served a purpose. Every mask protected something precious. The question is simply whether it is still protecting you today, or whether it has become the very thing preventing you from living as your authentic self? This is also why my work has evolved beyond conversation alone. Awareness is essential, but awareness is only the first step. These identities were not created through logic; they were created through experience. They live in the nervous system, in the body, in memories that often formed long before we had the words to describe them. My personal journey has taken me into somatic work and, eventually, into the respectful exploration of sacred plant medicines. Not because they replace therapy or coaching, but because they sometimes allow us to reach the place where these identities were first created, making it possible not simply to understand them but to work at the root of the blockage. As you finish reading, I invite you to pause for a moment. What mask has served you for most of your life? What part of yourself has it protected? And if, deep down, you already knew you were safe... Who would you be without it? Perhaps conscious leadership is not about becoming someone better. Perhaps it is about having the courage to slowly remove the identities we no longer need, until the person leading is no longer the mask, but the human being beneath it. FREE Masterclass “Beyond The Mind: The Science Of Plant Medicines” 📅 Date: August 11 🕒 Time: 18:00 CET / 9:00 PST / 12:00 EST Thanks for reading Rise and Play! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit riseandplay.substack.com

FREE Masterclass “Beyond The Mind: The Science Of Plant Medicines” 📅 Date: August 11 🕒 Time: 18:00 CET / 9:00 PST / 12:00 EST Over the past few years, I have been studying human behaviour through leadership, psychology, trauma, somatic work and, more recently, consciousness. One question has become increasingly present in my own journey and in the work I do with founders and executives: Who are you when you’re no longer trying to survive? At first, it sounds like a strange question. Most of us would probably answer that we are not surviving. We have a home, a career, a salary, food on the table. We are safe. And yet, when I look at the world around me, I see something very different. We live in a time where fear has become part of our daily environment. Every day we are exposed to news about wars, economic uncertainty, layoffs, political instability and the rapid rise of artificial intelligence. Even if none of these events affect us directly, they slowly reinforce a collective belief that the world is becoming less safe. For leaders, founders and entrepreneurs, that feeling is amplified. The question is no longer simply, “How do I build a successful company?” It quietly becomes, “How do I make sure I’ll be okay?” Many businesses today are not built from purpose or creativity. They are built from survival. And that changes everything. When Survival Becomes Your Leadership Strategy One of the patterns I observe most often in coaching is that people believe they are making strategic decisions, when in reality they are making protective decisions. The business becomes the place where they seek safety. Success becomes proof that they are enough. Recognition becomes reassurance that they matter. Money becomes certainty. None of those things are inherently wrong. They are deeply human. But when they become the unconscious reason behind everything we build, fear quietly starts leading our decisions. Instead of asking, “What would create the greatest value?”, we begin asking, “What will make me feel safe?” Instead of creating from our purpose, we create from our survival. The difficult part is that most of us don’t realise we’re doing it. Knowing the Pattern Doesn’t Always Change It Many of the leaders I work with have already spent years doing inner work. They’ve been to therapy. They’ve worked with coaches. They’ve read countless books. They understand exactly why they react the way they do. And still, they find themselves repeating the same behaviours. They continue overworking. They continue betraying themselves. They continue staying in relationships or businesses that no longer serve them. It is now that they don’t know better. But understanding is different from transformation. For many years, I believed that if I understood the source of my patterns, they would naturally disappear. Eventually I realised that the mind had taken me as far as it could. The answer wasn’t only in understanding the story. The answer was hidden somewhere else. The Body Remembers What the Mind Has Shut Down This is what led me toward somatic work and the study of the nervous system. One insight completely changed the way I understand personal transformation. The body remembers. When we experience something overwhelming as children, our body adapts in order to survive. Sometimes it contracts. Sometimes it freezes. Sometimes it learns not to express emotions. Sometimes it becomes hyper-vigilant. These adaptations are incredibly intelligent. They helped us survive when we were five years old. The challenge is that many of us continue living with the same adaptations decades later. The situations have changed. We have changed. But our nervous system often hasn’t. That is why we can intellectually know that we are safe while our body continues reacting as if danger were still present. A growing body of research in trauma and somatic healing points in this direction. Authors such as Gabor Maté, Bessel van der Kolk and Stephen Porges have all contributed to our understanding that healing is not only about changing thoughts. It is also about helping the nervous system experience safety again. My Own Survival Story Looking back, I understand where many of my own survival patterns came from. My parents left Vietnam after the war. Survival wasn’t simply part of their past; it shaped the way they experienced the world. Safety could disappear overnight. Stability could not be taken for granted. Without anyone consciously intending it, those beliefs were passed on to me. I learned very early that achievement created safety. That working harder meant being worthy. That success meant I would be okay. Even after leaving my corporate career and building my own business, I noticed the same program running inside me. I had enough savings to live comfortably for years. Nothing in my external reality suggested that I was unsafe. And yet my nervous system kept repeating the same message: “It’s not enough.” “Keep pushing.” “You never know.” The circumstances had changed. The survival pattern had not. Beyond the Mind, The Next Human Evolution That was the beginning of another chapter of my journey. I started exploring movement, somatic practices and eventually travelled to Colombia to sit with Yagé for the first time. I wasn’t looking for another technique. I wasn’t looking for another framework. I was looking for something beyond the mind. During that journey, I experienced something I had never been able to access through thinking alone. I could feel, in my body, layers of fear that didn’t seem to belong only to me. They belonged to my family history, to generations that had lived through war, displacement and uncertainty. For the first time, survival was no longer an idea I understood intellectually. It became something I could feel. And because I could finally feel it, I could begin releasing it. That experience changed the direction of my work. It showed me that there are dimensions of healing the mind cannot reach on its own. Who Are You When You Stop Surviving? One of the biggest fears leaders have is that if they stop being driven by fear, they will lose their ambition. I had that fear too. What I discovered was the opposite. When survival is no longer driving your life, you don’t stop creating. You don’t stop building. You don’t stop performing. You simply stop performing to prove that you deserve to exist. Your work becomes lighter. More aligned. More joyful. You create because it is an expression of who you are, not because you are trying to outrun an old wound. That, for me, is what conscious leadership is truly about. Not becoming someone different. But removing everything that fear has built around who you already are. Reflection Questions As you reflect on your own journey, I invite you to sit with these questions. Where in your life are you still operating from survival rather than choice? What part of your identity was once necessary to protect you, but no longer serves you today? If your nervous system truly knew that you were safe, what decision would you make differently? And perhaps the deepest question of all: Who are you when you’re no longer trying to survive? Closing Thoughts Survival is one of the most intelligent adaptations our body has ever created. The question is not whether it protected us. The question is whether it is still protecting us from a danger that no longer exists. Because there comes a moment in life when surviving is no longer enough. There comes a moment when the work shifts from building a life that feels safe to building a life that feels true. And perhaps that is where real leadership begins. If you are ready to go a level deeper, I am inviting you to this workshop on August 11th to explore who you are without your survival patterns FREE Masterclass “Beyond The Mind: The Science Of Plant Medicines” 📅 Date: August 11 🕒 Time: 18:00 CET / 9:00 PST / 12:00 EST Thanks for reading Rise and Play! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit riseandplay.substack.com

Over the past weeks, we’ve explored the six core human needs and the shadows they create when they unconsciously drive our lives and leadership. We began with the need for certainty, which often becomes the need for control. We explored the need for variety and how it can create instability. We looked at significance, our desire to be seen and recognized, and at love and connection, where over-giving and people-pleasing often emerge. Finally, we reflected on the need for growth and how the pursuit of constant evolution can become exhausting when it never allows space for integration. Today, I want to close this series with the sixth and final need: The need for contribution. In many ways, I see this as the most mature of the six human needs. But it is also the easiest one to confuse with the others. What Is the Need for Contribution? The need for contribution is the desire to create meaningful impact beyond yourself. It is the desire to give back. To leave something better than you found it. To use your skills, experience, and life for something larger than your own success. Many people describe contribution as the highest expression of purpose. Yet there is an important question we rarely ask ourselves: From which place are we contributing? Because contribution can easily become another disguise for an unmet human need. Are you contributing because you need recognition? Then perhaps significance is still driving your actions. Are you contributing because helping others allows you to belong? Perhaps the need for love and connection is underneath. Are you contributing because it helps you learn and evolve? Perhaps growth is still leading the way. Contribution itself is not enough. The intention behind it matters. When Giving Is Another Way of Receiving One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that many of us give because, unconsciously, we hope to receive something in return. Recognition. Validation. Love. Belonging. Security. There is nothing wrong with these needs, they are deeply human. The invitation is simply to become aware of them. Healthy contribution begins when the act of giving is complete in itself. When giving is already fulfilling. When nothing needs to come back for the contribution to have meaning. That, for me, is where contribution becomes truly free. The Shadow of Contribution Like every human need, contribution also has its shadow. One of the most common expressions I see—particularly in women leaders—is over-giving. Helping everyone. Always being available. Giving expertise away for free. Putting others first. Feeling guilty for receiving. The intention is beautiful. But over time, it becomes unsustainable. Because contribution without receiving eventually creates depletion. Everything in nature exists in relationship. Breathing in. Breathing out. Giving. Receiving. Neither can exist without the other. One question worth reflecting on is: How comfortable are you receiving? Can you receive money without guilt? Can you receive appreciation without minimizing it? Say ‘Thank you’. Can you receive support without feeling indebted? Many people who love to contribute discover that receiving is actually much harder than giving. And yet both are necessary. My Own Shift When I look back on my own career, I can clearly see how this need evolved over time. For many years, I worked in the gaming industry. I loved the creativity. I loved the innovation. I loved building teams and creating products that reached millions of people. I also received a great deal in return. Meaningful work. Recognition. Financial security. Growth. But eventually, a deeper question emerged. What am I contributing to? The games we created generated engagement, screen time, and significant revenue. From a business perspective, they were successful. But I also knew who some of our players were. I knew stories of people spending thousands of euros in games. People whose behavior resembled addiction more than entertainment. And I had to ask myself: Is this the impact I want to have? That question changed everything. It wasn’t a judgment of the industry. It was an honest reflection on my own values. I realized that my deepest need was no longer growth. Or recognition. Or achievement. It had become contribution. That realization eventually led me toward coaching. Toward conscious leadership. Toward creating spaces where leaders examine not only what they build, but the impact they create on the people around them. When Contribution Becomes a Different Question At some point in life, many people reach a quiet transition. They’ve achieved. They’ve grown. They’ve accumulated experience. And the question changes. Instead of asking: “How can I become more successful?” They begin asking: “What do I want to leave behind?” Contribution is no longer about building something bigger. It becomes about building something meaningful. For me, that has become the work. Helping leaders move from fear to love. From leading through control, ego, and survival... To leading from awareness, integrity, and the heart. That doesn’t happen through strategy alone. It requires inner work. Because the quality of what we contribute will always reflect the quality of the place we are contributing from. Looking Back at the Six Human Needs As we close this series, I invite you to reflect on all six human needs. * Where do you seek certainty and control? * Where do you constantly chase novelty? * Where do you need recognition? * Where do you sacrifice yourself to maintain connection? * Where do you push yourself to keep growing? * And finally… How do all of these needs shape the way you contribute to the world? Every need is valid. Every need has a shadow. The goal is never to eliminate these needs. The goal is to become aware of them. Because awareness is where freedom begins. Reflection Questions Take some time to journal with these questions: * Which of the six human needs drives most of your decisions today? * When you contribute, what are you hoping to receive in return? * How comfortable are you with receiving? * What impact are you truly creating through your work? * If recognition, money, and status disappeared, would you still choose the same path? Closing Reflection For me, contribution is not about saving the world. It is about bringing more consciousness into it. Helping people move from fear to love. From unconscious patterns to awareness. From reacting to choosing. If this series has taught us anything, it is that our shadows are not something to eliminate. They are invitations. Invitations to understand ourselves more deeply. Because once we understand what has been driving us, we finally become free to choose a different way of leading, living, and contributing. And perhaps that is the greatest contribution any of us can make. Thanks for reading Rise and Play! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. I am opening the registration for a unique event on Sept 4-7, a medicinal retreat in Europe for conscious leaders ready to go to the next level. We are curating a selected group of 12. Book a discovery call for more information. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit riseandplay.substack.com

In this series on the six human needs, we’ve already explored certainty, variety, significance, and love and connection. Today, we’re looking at the fifth human need: Growth. For me, this has been one of the strongest drivers throughout my life. Growth has shaped how I learn, how I lead, how I build businesses, and how I relate to challenges. It has also been one of my biggest teachers. Because like every human need, growth is beautiful. And like every human need, it also has a shadow. What Is the Need for Growth? The need for growth is the desire to learn, evolve, and become more. People with this need often love challenges. They enjoy learning new skills. They seek transformation. They are energized by difficult situations because every challenge becomes an opportunity to grow. If this is your dominant need, you probably recognize yourself here: * You love learning. * You constantly seek new perspectives. * You are rarely intimidated by difficult problems. * You often feel excited by change rather than discouraged by it. Growth becomes a way of life. There is nothing wrong with that. In fact, growth is part of nature. Everything alive is constantly evolving 🌱. The question is not whether you should grow. The question is how you grow. When Growth Becomes a Survival Strategy Looking back, I can see that my need for growth didn’t begin as a conscious choice. It began as survival. Growing up in a family of immigrants, I inherited a simple belief: If we don’t grow, we won’t survive. We came to France with very little. Everything had to be rebuilt. A new life. A new future. A new generation. Growth wasn’t simply encouraged. It became associated with safety. Without realizing it, I carried that belief into every part of my life. At school, in my career, in my leadership, in business, and personal development… If I wasn’t growing, I felt like something was wrong. And even today, I can still feel that pattern if I don’t pay attention. The Shadow of Constant Growth The shadow isn’t growth itself. The shadow is never allowing yourself to stop. Always learning. Always improving. Always achieving. At first, this looks admirable. But eventually it becomes exhausting. I’ve experienced this personally. There were periods where I was so focused on growth that everything else became secondary: Relationships. Rest. Integration. Presence. Even joy. Growth became another thing to optimize. Instead of allowing experiences to settle, I was already looking for the next course, the next project, the next transformation. Ironically, I wasn’t integrating any of it. Hypergrowth Isn’t Always Healthy I also see this pattern in founders and leadership teams. Many organizations celebrate hypergrowth. Grow faster. Scale bigger. Raise more. Expand quicker. But organizations have nervous systems too. People need time to adapt. Teams need time to integrate change. Culture needs time to mature. When leaders push growth faster than people can absorb it, exhaustion follows. Not because growth is bad. But because sustainable growth requires rhythm. Just like breathing. Expansion. Then integration. Movement. Then rest. More Learning Doesn’t Always Mean More Growth One pattern I recognize in myself is the tendency to consume too much information. Four courses at once, several books, multiple trainings… Always learning. The result? I knew many things. But I hadn’t embodied them. Real growth isn’t measured by how much information we collect. It is measured by what we integrate. Sometimes learning one thing deeply creates more transformation than learning ten things superficially. Depth often matters more than volume. What Happens When You Stop? A useful question to ask yourself is: What happens inside you when you stop growing? When you don’t read another book. When you don’t sign up for another course. When you don’t work on yourself for a day. Can you simply rest? Or does anxiety appear? Many people discover that stopping feels surprisingly uncomfortable. Not because they enjoy constant movement. But because their nervous system has associated movement with safety. Growth has become the way they regulate themselves. The Leadership Practice: Integration The practice isn’t to stop growing. The practice is to pace your growth. Growth also happens through: rest, reflection, repetition, integration… Silence. Sometimes doing nothing is part of growing. Sometimes the deepest transformation happens when we stop adding something new and begin living what we already know. This is particularly important in leadership. Because leaders who never pause often create organizations that never pause. The pace of the leader becomes the pace of the culture. Practices for Balancing the Need for Growth If you recognize this pattern, here are a few practices to explore. 🔵 Practice One: Integrate Before You Add Before starting another book, another course, or another project, ask yourself: Have I fully integrated what I already know? 🔵 Practice Two: Schedule Rest as Part of Growth Treat rest as a discipline rather than a reward. Integration is part of learning. Not separate from it. 🔵 Practice Three: Observe Your Anxiety Spend a few moments doing nothing. Notice what happens. If anxiety appears, stay curious. Ask yourself: What am I afraid will happen if I stop? 🔵 Practice Four: Choose Depth Over Volume Rather than constantly seeking something new, spend more time mastering one thing. Depth creates wisdom. Volume creates information. They are not the same. 💡Reflection Questions Take a few moments to reflect: * Is growth one of your strongest human needs? * Do you associate slowing down with falling behind? * What belief makes rest feel uncomfortable? * Are you integrating your learning—or simply collecting more of it? * What would sustainable growth look like for you? Closing Reflection Growth is one of the most beautiful expressions of being human. We are meant to evolve. The invitation is not to grow less. It is to grow more consciously. Because growth without integration becomes exhaustion. Growth with awareness becomes wisdom. And sometimes the greatest sign of growth is not how fast you move forward. It is knowing when to pause. Thanks for reading Rise and Play! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. I am opening the registration for a unique event on Sept 4-7, a medicinal retreat in Europe for conscious leaders ready to go to the next level. We are curating a selected group of 12. Book a discovery call for more information. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit riseandplay.substack.com

In this series on the six human needs, we’ve already explored certainty, variety, and significance. Today, we’re looking at the fourth human need: Love and connection. At first glance, this need seems harmless. Who doesn’t want love? Who doesn’t want meaningful relationships, belonging, and connection? The challenge is not the need itself. The challenge is what happens when our need for connection becomes stronger than our willingness to be truthful. What Is the Need for Love and Connection? The need for love and connection is the desire to feel close to others. To belong. To be included. To feel connected to family, partners, colleagues, teams, and communities. People with a strong need for connection often thrive in collaborative environments. They enjoy working with teams. They build deep relationships and bring people together. They care deeply about harmony. These are beautiful qualities. But like every human need, this one has a shadow. And the shadow often appears in leadership. When Connection Becomes Dependency The shadow side of love and connection is not love. It is dependency, over-giving. It is people-pleasing. It is sacrificing your truth to preserve harmony. The fear underneath is simple: If I disrupt the connection, I may lose it. This fear shows up everywhere. A leader keeps an underperforming team member because they don’t want to hurt their feelings. A founder avoids difficult conversations with a business partner because they want to stay friends. A coach overextends themselves to keep clients happy. A person remains in an unhealthy relationship because leaving feels more painful than staying. In all these situations, connection becomes more important than authenticity. And eventually, that comes at a cost. The Hidden Cost of Keeping the Peace Many leaders don’t recognize themselves as people-pleasers. The behavior often looks different at senior levels. It may appear as: * Avoiding difficult conversations * Delaying necessary decisions * Keeping partnerships that are no longer aligned * Over-accommodating others * Struggling to set boundaries * Carrying emotional burdens that aren’t theirs From the outside, it can look like kindness. Inside, it often feels like exhaustion. Because maintaining harmony requires energy. And when harmony is maintained at the expense of truth, the cost is usually paid by the person carrying the burden: You. Where Does This Pattern Come From? For me, this pattern has roots in my upbringing. Growing up in an Asian family, I learned very early that harmony mattered. The harmony of the group mattered. Keeping peace within the family was associated with safety. Breaking harmony felt dangerous. Being excluded felt unsafe. Of course, as children, these adaptations make sense. Belonging has always been tied to survival. Our nervous system still carries traces of that evolutionary reality. The challenge is that many of us continue operating from those old assumptions long after the original circumstances have passed. We act as if disagreement will lead to abandonment. As if honesty and boundaries will destroy connection. But is that actually true? The Leadership Practice: Boundaries The practice is not to love less. The practice is to love differently. To learn that connection does not require self-sacrifice. To learn that boundaries do not destroy relationships. In fact, healthy boundaries often strengthen them. A question worth exploring is: Can you feel connected without giving everything away? Can you maintain a relationship while saying no? Can you disagree without withdrawing? Many people discover something surprising: The relationship survives. And sometimes it becomes stronger. Because authentic connection requires truth. Not performance. What Happens When Love Isn’t Reciprocated? This is another place where people struggle. Some people naturally give love very freely. They are generous, open-hearted and supportive. But not everyone knows how to receive love. And not everyone expresses it in the same way. When love isn’t returned in the way we expect, we often make it personal. We assume: “They don’t appreciate me = They don’t love me.” But reality is often more nuanced. People simply express love differently. The Five Languages of Love One framework that has been helpful for understanding this is the concept of the Five Love Languages (Resource) People tend to express and receive love through different channels: * Acts of Service * Quality Time * Gifts * Physical Touch * Words of Affirmation Problems arise when we expect others to love us in our preferred language. For example: You may need words of affirmation. Your partner may express love through acts of service. You may need quality time. Your colleague may show appreciation through practical support. The love is present, but the language is different. Recognizing this can soften resentment and create more understanding in both leadership and personal relationships. The Deeper Practice Ultimately, the practice is not about getting more love from others. It is about cultivating enough love within yourself that connection becomes a choice rather than a necessity. Can you feel worthy even when someone disagrees with you? Can you stay connected to yourself when a relationship changes? Can you remain open-hearted without abandoning your boundaries? These are the questions that transform the need for connection from a dependency into inter-dependency. A Personal Reflection This need has been very present throughout my life. But what has changed is how I relate to it. I’ve learned that sometimes love requires difficult conversations. Sometimes it requires saying no. Sometimes it requires risking disappointment. And paradoxically, those moments often deepen connection rather than destroy it. Because authentic relationships are not built on agreement. They are built on truth. Reflection Questions Take a moment to reflect: * Where are you sacrificing your truth to preserve harmony? * What relationship are you afraid to challenge? * Where are you over-giving in the hope of receiving connection? * What would happen if you trusted that real connection could survive disagreement? Closing Reflection The need for love and connection is one of our most beautiful human needs. It reminds us that we are not meant to navigate life alone. The invitation is not to need less connection. The invitation is to create healthier connection. Connection rooted in truth, supported by boundaries. Connection that allows both closeness and individuality. Because real love does not require you to abandon yourself in order to belong 💛 Thanks for reading Rise and Play! This post is public so feel free to share it. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit riseandplay.substack.com

In this series on the six human needs, we’ve already explored the need for certainty and the need for variety in the previous episodes. Today, we’re looking at the third human need: significance. This one feels particularly personal to me. As I’ve transitioned from leadership roles in tech and gaming into coaching and conscious leadership, I’ve had to confront my own relationship with significance. Not just professionally, but at a much deeper level. Because significance is one of the most celebrated needs in modern leadership. And one of the least examined. What Is the Need for Significance? The need for significance is the need to feel important. To be seen. To be recognized. To be valued. To know that we matter. There is nothing wrong with this need. It is deeply human. The challenge begins when our sense of significance depends entirely on external validation. When we need the title. The promotion. The company. The audience. The visibility. The achievement. The exit. To feel worthy. At that point, significance stops being a healthy need and becomes a shadow. Where Does It Come From? For many people, the need for significance is rooted in earlier experiences of feeling unseen. Perhaps your voice wasn’t heard. Perhaps your opinions didn’t matter. Perhaps you only received attention when you performed, achieved, or succeeded. That was certainly true for me. Growing up, I often felt invisible unless I achieved something. Recognition came through performance. Achievement became the place where I felt valued. Where I felt loved, where I felt safe. So I learned to achieve. I pursued promotions. Leadership positions. Recognition. Success. I became a founder, a CEO, a leader. And it felt good. Because every achievement temporarily filled the space where significance was missing. The problem is that external significance is never enough. There is always another milestone. Another title. Another level to reach. An endless hunger for ambition. How Significance Shapes Leadership This pattern shows up frequently in founders and executives. The company needs to be bigger. The revenue needs to be higher. The fundraising round needs to be larger. The impact needs to be more visible. When you ask why these goals matter so much, the answer is often revealing. Only then will I be successful. Only then will I be respected. Only then will I matter. Only then will I be “enough”. This is where significance becomes dangerous. Not because ambition is wrong. But because the business becomes a vehicle for proving personal worth. When leaders operate from this place, organizations often become centered around the ego needs of the founder rather than the needs of the people they serve. Everything starts to revolve around image, status, and perception. What looks impressive. What gets attention. What creates recognition — and we have seen a lot of that in the tech and gaming industry over the past years. And somewhere in the process, authenticity gets lost. The Hidden Cost of External Validation I know this pattern well. Earlier in my career, visibility gave me power. It gave me influence. It gave me opportunities. But it also consumed me. Because when significance is built externally, you become dependent on external feedback to maintain your sense of self. The applause becomes necessary. The recognition becomes necessary. The visibility becomes necessary. And eventually, you stop asking: “Am I fulfilled?” And start asking: “Am I seen?” These are very different questions. The Real Work The real work is learning to feel significant without needing to be significant. Stay with that for a moment. Learning to feel significant without needing to be seen. Without needing recognition. Without needing validation. Without needing the room to acknowledge your value. This is where internal significance begins. The question becomes: Can you appreciate your own accomplishments even if nobody else knows about them? Can you complete something meaningful without sharing it publicly? Can you find satisfaction in the work itself? Can your own witness be enough? This is not about hiding. It is not about becoming invisible. It is about loosening the attachment between your worth and other people’s recognition. A Personal Shift This has been one of the deepest practices in my own transformation. As I moved into coaching and conscious leadership, I realized I could no longer lead from the same need for visibility that had driven parts of my earlier career. I had to shift from being the expert to becoming the guide. From being recognized to being useful. From seeking significance externally to cultivating it internally. It is still a practice. But it has created far more peace than any title ever did. Practices for Balancing the Need for Significance If this pattern resonates with you, here are a few simple practices: ✅ Accomplish Something Without Sharing It Do something meaningful that nobody else needs to know about. Notice what arises. Do you still feel proud of it? ✅ Attend Without Being the Center of Attention Go to an event without trying to be noticed. Practice listening instead of performing. Observe what happens internally. ✅ Focus on Craft Rather Than Recognition Shift attention from how your work is perceived to the quality of the work itself. Can the process become more rewarding than the outcome? ✅ Ask Yourself ‘Why’ When you want more visibility, more success, or more recognition, pause. Ask: What am I hoping this achievement will give me? The answer is often deeper than the goal itself. 💡Reflection Questions Take a few moments with these questions: * Where does your sense of significance come from today? * Do you only feel valuable when you are achieving? * What would happen if nobody witnessed your success? * Can you appreciate your work without external validation? * Who are you when the titles, achievements, and recognition are removed? Closing Reflection The need for significance is not the problem. It is one of our most natural human needs. The invitation is simply to examine it. Because when significance is unconscious, it drives us. When significance becomes conscious, it teaches us. And sometimes the greatest achievement is not becoming more important. It is realizing that you were already enough before anyone noticed. Thanks for reading Rise and Play! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit riseandplay.substack.com

Welcome to a new episode of Spark of Awareness, continuing the series on the six human needs. If you missed the previous episode, I encourage you to connect with it. Each of these needs carries both a constructive expression and a shadow expression. In leadership, these shadows inevitably appear to varying degrees, and when they remain unconscious, they can hinder growth, decision-making, and long-term impact. Today, we explore the second human need: variety and uncertainty. This need reflects the desire for change, novelty, stimulation, unpredictability, adventure, risk, and new experiences. It is the drive toward what is unknown and evolving. If you recognize this in yourself, it is worth examining honestly. The Need for Variety in Leadership Personally, this need has been very present in my own life. I have often been drawn to new projects, new experiences, and new environments that create a sense of renewed energy. Repetition, long cycles, and sustained commitment have at times felt difficult. At its extreme, this pattern can lead to restlessness and a constant search for change. Without awareness, it can manifest in premature exits from teams, companies, or relationships — not necessarily because something is wrong, but because internal energy is pushing toward novelty. In hindsight, I can see moments where I was not responding to external reality, but to an internal need for change. Instead of understanding what was happening within me, I expressed it through external disruption. This pattern influences how things begin and end — projects, commitments, and relationships. The Shadow of Constant Change In leadership, this need can become highly destabilizing. For example, in executives or founders, it may appear as constant shifts in direction — an ongoing pursuit of what feels new, exciting, or stimulating. However, what feels energizing for the individual is not always what a business requires. Organizations often need stability, consistency, and sustained execution. When leadership is driven primarily by novelty, it can create confusion and lack of grounding within teams. A key challenge is distinguishing between: * Necessary evolution * And personal preference for change Without this distinction, decision-making becomes reactive rather than strategic. Restlessness and the Creation of Chaos This need can also express itself through intensity. When there is no clear channel for novelty or stimulation, it may manifest as unnecessary complexity, conflict, or even chaos. Situations become more complicated than they need to be, not because of external conditions, but because internal energy seeks movement. In some cases, this creates artificial urgency — a sense that something must be fixed, solved, or disrupted in order to feel alive. In business environments, this can be particularly damaging, especially where discipline, clarity, and consistency are required. Instability and Lack of Commitment When the need for variety dominates, it often leads to instability. There can be a resistance to planning, structure, or long-term commitment. This pattern is also visible in broader society, where commitment in work, relationships, and long-term projects is increasingly fragile. In a leadership context, this becomes a barrier to mastery. Growth requires repetition, patience, and sustained focus. Without that, execution becomes fragmented. Another shadow expression is addiction to novelty: constantly starting new things while rarely completing them. This leads to scattered energy and unfinished potential. The Cost of Unchanneled Energy At the core, this is not a lack of energy — it is often the opposite. Too much energy. Many people with this pattern have significant internal energy, creativity, and drive. The challenge is not generating energy, but directing it. When it is not consciously channeled, it tends to fragment: * too many projects * constant restarting * unresolved commitments * loss of continuity Instead of creating value, the energy disperses. The key question becomes: how do you channel energy into creation rather than disruption? Awareness and Rechanneling Energy The first step is awareness: recognizing the pattern without judgment. Personally, I noticed a tendency to start many projects but struggle to sustain them. Over time, I learned that consistency itself is a discipline — not a limitation of creativity. The practice is not to suppress this energy, but to contain and redirect it. When restlessness arises, the first step is not immediate action. It is observation. Sitting with the energy without reacting to it. Often, nothing needs to be done immediately. The body may feel agitated, but the system stabilizes when the impulse is not instantly acted upon. Once the intensity settles, the energy can be redirected into something constructive: * writing * reflecting * creating * consolidating vision * refining direction The goal is not to eliminate movement, but to transform it into intentional creation. Separating Expression from Responsibility One important practice has been learning where expression belongs. Creative exploration, experimentation, and self-expression are valuable — but they are not always appropriate in every context. For example, in coaching or leadership environments, the role is not self-expression, but service. The focus is on the needs of others, not internal impulses. This separation is essential. Without it, personal energy can unconsciously influence spaces that require neutrality, clarity, and presence. The same applies to leadership in organizations: personal excitement should not override what the system actually needs. A useful question becomes:Is this decision serving the business, or serving my own need for stimulation? If it is the latter, it may belong elsewhere. Channeling Energy Outside of Work When personal expression is needed, it is important to give it a proper outlet outside professional responsibilities. This may include creative practices, movement, or environments where expression is held safely and does not impact others’ work or expectations. This separation allows leadership spaces to remain stable, while personal energy still has room to flow. Both needs can coexist — but they must be held in the right contexts. Closing Practice: Working with Restless Energy To close, I invite a simple meditation practice centered on this theme. Sit comfortably and bring attention to your breath. Observe your internal state without attempting to change it. Notice where energy is present in the body: * the chest * the belly * the mind * the breath Simply observe. As you continue breathing, notice how the energy shifts. In many cases, it begins to regulate on its own. Some areas soften. Some tension releases. A sense of grounding emerges naturally. This practice does not require effort — only awareness. When restlessness appears in daily life, return to this observation. Sit with it before acting. Then, if needed, journal: * What is this energy asking for? * Where does it want to go? * How can it be directed constructively? Over time, this builds the ability to transform raw energy into intentional creation. Closing Reflection The need for variety is not a problem. In its healthy form, it brings creativity, innovation, and movement. In its shadow form, it creates instability, fragmentation, and unnecessary disruption. The work is not to remove this energy, but to learn how to channel it. Next week, we continue with the third human need: significance — the need for recognition and being seen 🥇. Thanks for reading Rise and Play! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. 🌿 Next ORIN Women’s Retreat on Sept 11-16 (Portugal) 🌿 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit riseandplay.substack.com