I realised, as I started to work with one of my kids about creating more awareness around their well being, and having a more balanced approach to their days, that I perhaps need to look at whether I have the right balance in my own life.

We seem to live in a society that values productivity that can be outwardly measured—things like achievements, tasks completed, and visible progress. But how can we recognise and value the less obvious aspects of well-being?

Like many adolescents today, my kids struggle with social anxiety and healthily processing their emotions, which they feel very intensely. Recently, we did a project together focused on their well-being, and we both enjoyed it. Noticing how important processing time is for them, especially with all the academic and social input they receive, helped them understand the balance I try to maintain with screen time and boundaries.

Here's how we did it:               

1. Brainstorm Activities: We started by listing all the activities they do, from basic needs like sleeping, eating and showering to things like, school, extracurricular activities, screen time and socializing.
2. Identify Essentials: Next, they circled the activities that are essential for survival, like eating and sleeping.
3. Assess Energy Impact: Then, we went through the list and added symbols to each activity: a "+" for those that give energy, a "-" for those that drain energy, and an "=" for those that are neutral.
4. Notice Anything Missing: Finally, we looked for any activities that might be missing. The surprise for them was realizing the importance of processing time—taking time to think and reflect on experiences.

I explained this by comparing it to eating without digesting or eliminating waste. As I illustrated this, they realised that all the academic, social, and emotional input they receive also needs to be processed similarly. Then we listed all the ways they naturally do this through activities like journaling, singing, drawing, or even showering—if they have the time.

I’m trying to teach them that it's not just about what we accomplish externally, but also about noticing and making time for the things we need internally, like emotional balance and physical health, which aren't always as apparent.

Next, we shaded in their current activities on a weekly calendar, and they could clearly see that processing time was missing when they stayed on their screen until late. I think this visual helped them understand the balance they need and why they have certain boundaries in place to help them manage that balance.

We also explored what happens when they are out of balance. This can manifest in various ways—like feeling more tired, getting sick more often, struggling to cope with everyday challenges, and perceiving things as more intense or disproportionate to reality. All of these signs indicate that their well-being is being compromised when things aren't in balance.

One tool we've been using to track how things are going is an emotions intensity scale, which we use for a quick check in; they rate the intensity of their feelings from 1 (not intense) to 10 (very intense). To build on that, I suggested adding a similar scale for physical feelings, to check in on how their body is doing.

For the physical scale, they rate how they’re feeling physically, with 1 indicating they’re feeling very run down or unwell and 10 meaning they’re feeling really good and energised. A lower number on the physical scale shows they’re feeling more run down, while a higher number suggests they’re physically better.

The idea is to have my children think about the two numbers each day—one reflecting how they're feeling emotionally and the other for their physical state. This helps them build awareness and track how both their emotions and physical condition change over time, and it also allows me to stay connected and understand how they’re doing, even when I’m not there.

This practice also helps them recognise which activities require more energy and which need less, helping them plan their timing better—like when asking for sleepovers or lots of socialising. It also helps them notice the natural cyclical changes within their own body.

A wise friend of mine recommended scheduling around the days of her menstrual cycle and ovulation because she knows her physical and emotional states change during those times. As best as she can, she works with that when planning activities and commitments. My kids may not be at that level of awareness yet, but they will get there. To be fair, it’s really only relatively recently I’ve started to do that myself.

As I’ve been guiding my kids through this, I’ve noticed how their expanding social lives impact my own energy levels. Something as simple as driving to the local bowling alley in the evening to pick them up can leave me feeling drained when I’d normally be at home unwinding. I can always tell when I haven't picked up a book in a few days—my muscles are tight and stressed from overworking on the computer, signaling that I need more downtime to get lost in some fiction.

Holding my own boundaries and prioritising self-care will become even more important as my kids grow and start to go through that phase where they burn the candle at both ends. I’ve experienced burnout enough times in my life to realise that I need balance. And just as I’m teaching my children to find their balance, I’m reminded that I need to maintain mine as well.

As parents, we often focus so much on guiding our children that we forget to apply the same principles to ourselves. Just as our kids need balance to thrive, so do we. It's easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily life but, for me, recognising when I’m out of kilter is crucial. By modeling self-care and setting boundaries, I can teach my children by example that maintaining well-being is a lifelong practice.

Reflecting on the importance of processing time, I'm reminded of how essential it is for all of us. Making room to reflect isn't just about improving our well-being; it's about recognising that in a world focused on productivity, the quieter, less visible moments of self-care and contemplation are equally important. By intentionally carving out this time, we nurture our emotional and physical health, ensuring we're fully present and ready to take on whatever life throws our way. In doing so, we're creating a more balanced, fulfilling life for ourselves and our loved ones.

So, as you consider your own well-being today, remember the exercise we discussed: rate your emotional state from 1 to 10, with 1 being not intense at all and 10 being very intense. Then, rate your physical state from 1 to 10, with 1 being very run down and 10 being fully energised. How are you feeling today?

​If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Finding Balance: Making Big Changes Through Small Steps in a Complex Life, Start With the Self and the Rest Will Take Care of Its-Self, Make Choices That Will Have the Most Positive Impact in Your Life and Mastering the Art of Inner Harmony: A Journey from Turmoil to Tranquility. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

Navigating the challenges of raising children whose learning needs don’t align with the way the curriculum is taught requires us to consider both their experiences and our emotional responses. Reflecting with close friends on the challenges of motherhood, especially when raising children who struggle with school, I found myself wondering, “Are there parents out there whose kids genuinely find joy in life?”

While my kids enjoy certain aspects of life, their day-to-day experience with school is something they loathe. I often think how much more fulfilling it might feel to be the parent of children who are truly happy.

Yet I also know that life’s challenges are where our opportunities for growth come from. In my fifties, I wouldn’t have half the resilience, competence, and confidence my kids see in me if I hadn’t been through some tough times. Not that we wish tough times on our kids, but they are an inevitable part of life, and I try to teach them that they can do hard things. I truly hope that as I watch them grow and mature into adulthood, I’ll see them flourishing, and that may bring a deeper sense of fulfillment in my role as a parent.

I don’t remember being as miserable as my kids when I was growing up. I remember the thrill of climbing onto the top of communal garage blocks, running across rooftops, and playing games like Hide and Seek with friends in my younger years. Sure, there was angst over friendships and boyfriends, anxiety in new situations, and resistance to my mum’s behavior and opinions most of the time, but on the whole, school wasn’t something I actively resisted. On the contrary, it was an area where I found autonomy and independence.

Through my competitive swimming, I experienced another world of independence outside the home, traveling to distant towns and staying away overnight. My mum used to say the biggest benefit of the intense training schedule was keeping me off the streets while doing something healthy. In high school, though, I always felt like I didn’t belong. I was “Shona the Swimmer” or, devastatingly once called, “Shona the Man” because I did Physical Education with the boys. I was dorky, wreaked of l'eau de chlorine, and often drifted off in class. But thankfully I didn’t have any learning difficulties; I did reasonably well academically.

Reflecting on my childhood, I can’t help but contrast it with the experiences of my kids. It makes me think about what Abraham Hicks says—that the purpose of life is to experience joy. When we’re true to ourselves and follow our inner guidance, we naturally feel joyful. Growth happens as a by-product of that joy; we don’t need to force it. But then I think about how tough it is for kids with learning challenges. The traditional school environment can be so frustrating for them because it doesn’t fit how they naturally learn. Every day can feel like a great effort, and it’s hard for them to find any joy or motivation in that kind of setting.

From kindergarten onward, my kids have balked at being in school. I didn’t fully understand why they seemed so exhausted and overwhelmed early on. Sure, there are days when they go without fuss, and occasionally things they look forward to, but both have (different) dyslexic and sensory challenges that make the learning environment particularly tough, leading to resistance and frustration.

I think about the concept of optimal motivation, which involves aligning tasks with intrinsic goals or value. While I understand that there are things in life we might not want to do but have no choice about other than choosing our attitude, for most kids, this is a level beyond their understanding unless they regularly see it role-modeled. Their childhood is filled with obligations they have to fulfill because the government or their parents say so.

For many kids, especially those who are neurodivergent, understanding and embracing the idea that they can choose their attitude toward learning tasks is both complex and often unattainable. They may struggle to see the purpose behind what they’re forced to learn in class, leading to feelings of frustration, resentment, or even helplessness.

As children grow, how they internalize these experiences can significantly shape their adult behavior. Some may continue to comply out of fear of disappointing others, leading to a pattern of people-pleasing and self-sacrifice. Others might rebel, seeking to assert their autonomy but sometimes doing so in ways that are self-centered or harmful to others. Finding that balanced approach—being assertive yet mindful and compassionate—is rare and often requires a conscious effort in adulthood to unlearn deeply ingrained patterns.

At the age my youngest is now, I was immersed in an intense routine—swimming morning and evening, attending school all day, and sneaking in late-night reading sessions by the hallway light. In contrast, my youngest doesn’t seem to have any strong interests outside of school. Social activities are rare, and by the end of the school day, they are completely drained, having expended all their energy at school.

My older child, who overcame many early reading and writing challenges, would greatly benefit from a hands-on, project-based learning environment now that they are in high school. They thrive in settings involving experiments, arts, crafts, and building models. Unfortunately, traditional education still relies heavily on a lecture-based approach, where teachers present information and students are expected to follow along all at the same pace. This system can be particularly challenging for students with non-linear thinking, as it often exacerbates issues related to memory, organization, time management, concentration, and communication.

On top of these learning challenges, my children also navigate typical social anxieties and emotional pressures of being teens—further complicated by screens and social media. These factors often lead to internalised stress, adding to their complexity of experience.

Reflecting on their journey since kindergarten, I understand the value of both education and resilience, yet it’s heartbreaking as a parent to see every day feel like a struggle for my children. I often feel frustrated with how the education system seems to overlook opportunities to make learning more engaging and fulfilling.

As I think about re-imagining education, it closely aligns with my current book project on healthcare, finding better ways to support people more holistically. While my current focus is on health, I’m eager to explore and share the stories of the people and organisations doing something different in terms of engaging our younger generations more holistically into the realms of learning.

It’s been forty years since I sat in a classroom, and back then, neurodivergences were not recognized. Those who struggled with traditional methods were often misunderstood and labeled unfairly. I’ve encountered many intelligent individuals who were misjudged simply because the system didn’t accommodate their learning styles.

Today, we recognize that learning differences exist, yet many educational systems still rely on outdated methods. This raises an important question: When will we embrace a more inclusive approach that truly supports diverse learning needs?

As we reflect on these issues, I invite you to consider your own experiences with education and the impact of outdated systems. How can we collectively work towards a future where every child’s learning style is valued and supported? How can we advocate for changes that will make learning more engaging and effective for all students? Your insights and actions could be key to driving the transformation we so urgently need.

If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Finding Balance: Making Big Changes Through Small Steps in a Complex Life, The Silent Wins: How to Acknowledge and Celebrate Your Growth, Leaders Who Walk the Talk and Are Interested in People and Self Empowerment , Crafting a New Vision for Healthcare: How Our Personal Journeys Shape the Future and Evolving Education. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

Juggling multiple roles can make life complex. As a mum to children who are growing fast and navigating the increasing demands of school with dyslexic challenges, along with their expanding social landscapes and issues, this alone can be time-consuming. On top of this, I’m managing household responsibilities, negotiating a new childcare contract, and balancing my own self-care while nurturing relationships. Adding to the complexity is my pursuit of a new purpose.

I’m about to embark on research for a book on re-imagining healthcare and will be working on a future project about education. I’ll be curating stories and experiences of those offering alternatives to government systems, looking for commonalities and inspiration for how we might address healthcare and education in the future. Balancing this with my existing responsibilities feels overwhelming, especially when immediate concerns demand my full attention.

Right on cue, I listened to a powerful conversation between Tami Simon and Otto Scharmer, addressing both personal empowerment and urgent societal changes. Their podcast, What Future Is Wanting to Emerge Through You? posed a profound question: “How do we move from just reacting against the issues of the past, toward sensing and actualising the future that is wanting to emerge?”

In my world, this question translates to: “How can I contribute to evolving the world while managing all my current responsibilities?” Tami Simon, founder and CEO of Sounds True—one of my favorite publishing houses—and Dr. Otto Scharmer, a senior lecturer at MIT renowned for his Theory U framework, provided insights that made listening to their discussion a must. Theory U guides individuals and organisations in moving from existing patterns to emerging future possibilities.

I’ll admit, I’m not much of an academic, and I often find theoretical discussions full of jargon challenging. However, Dr. Scharmer’s work on leadership, big-picture change, and tapping into emerging possibilities was so relevant that I paid close attention.

In their conversation, they discussed key ideas including:

• Common feelings of depression and disillusionment today
• Moving from a fear-based outlook to one of hope
• Bridging gaps in environment, society, and spirituality
• Shifting from focusing on individual benefits to understanding broader impacts
• How small actions can lead to big changes
• Being open to new possibilities
• Letting go of what no longer serves us
• Embracing uncertainty
• The concept of Social Presencing
• The role of courage in change
• How unlocking our potential is more achievable than we think

They also emphasized creating spaces that encourage positive change, focusing our efforts, the role of relationships, and the importance of deep listening and awakening the human spirit.

These ideas offered a helpful perspective on how to navigate the complexity of my life:

1. Balancing Immediate Needs with Long-Term Goals: I’m dealing with pressing issues like renegotiating contracts through mediation alongside daily responsibilities. Dr. Scharmer’s approach emphasises the importance of not just focusing on these immediate concerns but also nurturing my long-term goals, such as my book projects. It’s about finding a way to manage both aspects effectively.
2. Creating Space for Emergence: Moments of reflection, like my beach walks, where I let my creative thoughts flow, align with Dr Scharmer’s idea of creating "holding spaces." These are environments where new ideas can emerge despite the chaos of daily life. It’s about making room for these moments of inspiration.
3. Integration of Everyday and Creative Processes: Dr. Scharmer’s approach involves blending daily tasks with creative pursuits. Finding ways to weave my book ideas into my busy schedule, even if it’s through small, incremental steps, is key to making some progress. I felt better when he said "Big changes through small steps."
4. Reflection and Patience: Dr Scharmer highlights the importance of patience and reflection. While immediate concerns may dominate my time, the insights gained from reflective moments are crucial. This process involves trusting that creative ideas will continue to develop, even if progress feels slow.

My biggest take away was that small, intentional actions can lead to big changes over time. Dr. Scharmer emphasizes that transformative work doesn’t always (and, in fact, most often doesn’t) require grand gestures.

Instead, by focusing on small, meaningful actions, we can make significant progress over time, aligning our daily efforts with our long-term goals. For those of us navigating complex lives, these principles can be transformative:

• Set Small Goals: Dedicate short, focused periods to work on our long-term goals.
• Create Reflective Spaces: Find or create environments where we can reflect and let new ideas emerge.
• Balance and Integration: Incorporate our goals into our daily routine in manageable ways.
• Trust the Process: Be patient and flexible, allowing our plans to adapt as we gain new insights.

As you reflect on your own aspirations and responsibilities, consider how these practical steps might fit into your life. By applying these principles, you can manage your day-to-day challenges while steadily advancing toward your larger goals, creating a harmonious balance between current needs and future possibilities.

If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Learning the Fundamentals of More Healthy and Balanced Relationships, The Art of Learning to Have and Hold Boundaries Healthily When Healing From Trauma Responses, Navigating Life's Balancing Act Authentically with Pink and Intuition, Finding Your Balance and From Endings to Beginnings: Let Go to Embrace New Possibilities. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog. 

It has been thirty years since I was diagnosed with panic disorder; it was a major turning point in my life for many reasons. I was fresh out of university, struggling to find my path in life. Juggling three jobs, I was involved in an unhealthy relationship, after having my heart broken the year before, and had been involved in a car accident that led to another critical experience in my life on the witness stand in court.

One day, while sitting on a bus en route to meet my boyfriend at the time, I experienced (what I now know to be) a severe panic attack. I felt like my heart was going to explode and there was a vice-like sensation around my head. Desperate for air, I got off the bus and walked several miles to my destination. This episode left a lasting memory, particularly of lying in a cold dark cupboard at my boyfriend’s office for two hours before he could leave work. Once home, I was in bed for days with chest pains and nausea.

Trips to the doctor resulted in misdiagnosis and multiple courses of antibiotics, leading to bouts of candidiasis. I was at home for months, with very low energy and unable to work because every time I ventured out anywhere significant I’d get these episodes like I’d had on the bus. Without the internet, I turned to self-help books and tried an anti-candida diet inspired by Dee McCaffrey’s work on nutrition. I had wondered whether I might have myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME), otherwise then known as chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS), which is a serious and often long-lasting illness that keeps people from doing their usual activities.

A significant breakthrough came when a psychiatrist finally diagnosed my panic attacks. As I reflected on it back in 2019, in Want Better Health? Be Shrewd About Stress, this was back in the early 1990s, panic attacks were often dismissed as overreactions. And while ME and CFS are now recognised by the World Health Organisation, both being classified as diseases of the nervous system, neither were recognised as illnesses back then by “orthodox” medicine, and the psychiatrist had been rather scathing about this despite noting I was “clearly highly intelligent”.

Nevertheless, I discovered Christine Ingham’s book Panic Attacks which explained the anatomy of panic attacks and how to invoke the parasympathetic nervous system to switch out of fight-or-flight mode, leading to my recovery. I still recommend that book to others today.

Following my diagnosis, there was a trail of correspondence between the psychiatrist, the referring doctor at the hospital, and my regular doctor and I. As I wondered this week whether the impressions I was left with from that time reflected the reality, I dug out the correspondence and ran it through an AI engine, asking for an impression of the attitudes involved as a neutral observer.

Overall, it pegged the psychiatrist as being critical, judgmental, condescending and dismissive, with implied superiority. However, while I took it entirely personally at the time, I think the psychiatrist’s derision was pointed partly at the referring doctor (to whom his letter was written) for encouraging any notion of ME. He had taken “the unusual step” of copying me in, in an attempt to improve communications between me and my various medical advisors”. Unsurprisingly, it actually achieved the opposite.

Given that correspondence and my regular doctor’s response – which the AI noted as having an offhand attitude and making condescending remarks – I hadn’t been left with a false impression all those years ago. It fuelled an even greater determination to manage my own health, and out of it was born a stronger advocate for a more holistic approach to health.

This remains my attitude, but with it now is the desire to create a vision of a different future. It’s funny to think that the prevailing attitude I came across 30 years ago is but just a moment in time. What we think of as standard medical care changes constantly. My daughter was asking about convalescence hospitals, as there are a few old ones, now museums, which can be visited around New Zealand.

In my parent’s era, it was more common for people to be sent to one of those, rest and fresh air were a common prescription (and still the most sensible in many cases) but these days it’s all about micro surgeries and being in and out of hospital and back at work as fast as possible.

Nick Polizzi’s docu-series Remedy presents quite a compelling and concise history of healing that also explains why so many of us are feeling polarized around (what we refer to as) the conventional healthcare system in the western world. For many, it just isn’t cutting it.

So what is the alternative? It is a topic close to my heart. In the decades since that diagnosis I’ve been researching many aspects of health and healthcare in order to manage my own health and, in more recent years, that of my children.

Much of the last decade has been focused on raising them and learning more about developmental and inherited trauma, as I applied this to my own healing. I started my kids on homeopathic treatment at age 4 and 2. Before this, both had multiple prescriptions for antibiotics, but they haven’t needed any since.

My children are also no strangers to chiropractic care, predominantly to maintain a healthy nervous system, which also affects the immune system, and to ensure proper posture to prevent future issues. They are chronically out of alignment from sitting at school desks all day and using devices at other times. Overall though, apart from seasonal colds and flus – which are part of the body’s natural process – their health and well-being have greatly improved from a more holistic approach.

Along the way I’ve tried and come across many alternative approaches to health, and it’s the stories of those practitioners and their clients that interest me. I am in the process of starting to more formally research the varying approaches to healthcare around the world, in Western societies and beyond, to curate stories, investigate similarities and weave together the commonalities and create a vision for our future healthcare.

Imagine our current orthodox healthcare systems as a building on the right. I’m not interested in taking on that renovation project. Instead, I envision drawing a picture of an entirely different building on the left and bringing it to life with stories of places that already embody this vision. I see myself bringing people together, weaving ideas, spotting patterns, collaborating, and lending insight through my writing.

Reflecting on my journey, I’ve recently realized just how my career and life experiences have uniquely equipped me for the task of researching and creating such a vision. My background in driving sustainable strategic people change, managing large teams and complex projects, and aligning business objectives with cultural transformation has provided me with invaluable skills and insights in understanding what it takes to create systemic changes.

I’m always interested in people’s stories, and I’d love to hear from you if or someone you know can point me in the direction of people and organizations out there who are doing things more holistically. If you have a story to share or an organisation you admire for its different approach, please get in touch. Let's weave together a vision for a healthcare system that truly serves us all.

In my 2019 article, I emphasized the importance of taking personal responsibility for our health. There isn't a one-size-fits-all solution for everyone; instead, we each need to find what feels right for us at any given time. I echo the same now.

I encourage you to reflect on your own journey and consider how your experiences have shaped your approach to health and well-being. What insights have you gained along the way? How have these experiences influenced your understanding of what it means to live fully? Share your stories and thoughts, and let's learn from each other's paths as we work towards a more holistic vision for our future. Embrace life fully, recognizing the finite nature of our time here, and reclaim your power—your autonomy over your body, mind, and spirit. By doing so, you can live more authentically and richly.

​If you enjoyed reading this, you may enjoy Listening to the Signs – My Road to Health, You Have Amazing Options When it comes to Healthcare, Tuning In to Our Children’s Health (page 64) and Wake Up to the Truth About Healthcare and Healing. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also opt to subscribe to my blog.