What is unconscious bias? The Bias Specialist

The Power That Holds The World

Mon, 20 Apr 2026 23:45:01 GMT

I recently found myself rewatching one of my favourite films, The Matrix. It wasn’t a casual choice. There was something in me that knew I needed to see it again - this time with the eyes I have now.

At first, I wondered if I might feel disappointed. The familiar narrative is clear: a chosen one, a singular saviour, a man destined to rescue humanity. It is a story we have seen countless times, and one that has shaped much of how we understand power and leadership.

But as I watched, something unexpected happened.

I didn’t feel disappointment.

I saw more.

Beneath the visible story, another layer revealed itself - one that had always been there, but which I had never fully recognised. It was quieter, less defined, but no less powerful.

It was a story of relationship.

A story of knowing.

A story of what holds everything together when the structures we rely on begin to fracture.

Yes, Neo is positioned as “the One.” But nothing in his journey happens in isolation. Morpheus guides him. The Oracle offers insight, not certainty. And in a pivotal moment, it is Trinity’s knowing - her refusal to accept what appears to be true - that calls him back from death.

This is not the power we have been taught to look for.

It is not loud. It does not dominate. It does not conquer.

It recognises.

And in that recognition, something shifts.

Watching this unfold, I found myself reflecting on some questions that have been forming in my work for some time now:

What if the world is not saved by a single figure?

What if it is held, rather than rescued…
woven, rather than won…
grown, rather than imposed?

When we look at history, we tend to focus on visible acts of leadership - the moments of decision, intervention, and control. But alongside these, and often beneath them, another kind of power has always been at work.

The power that sustains.

The power that connects.

The power that continues.

And so often, it is women who've carried this.

Not always named. Not always recognised. But present in the ways families endure, communities adapt, and relationships are held together through complexity and change.

This is not about replacing one narrative with another. It is not about positioning women as the new saviours. That would simply replicate the same structure.

It is about expanding our understanding of what power is.

Because the acts of holding, weaving, sensing, and responding are not secondary. They are foundational. They are the very conditions that make life, leadership, and continuity possible.

As I watched The Matrix this time, I realised I hadn’t lost anything of what I loved about it.

I had simply gained the ability to see more of what was already there.

And in that seeing, something settled.

My work is not to dismantle dominant narratives.

Others will do that.

My role is to call to something deeper—to the wild, untamed, organic power in women that has always existed, even within systems that could not name it.

To help women recognise that power.
To trust it.
And to use it, consciously.

Because in the end, it is not a single saviour that sustains us - it is the quiet, enduring power that holds the world.

Vision without Visibility

Mon, 13 Apr 2026 04:32:02 GMT

Learning to Trust Timing in Leadership and Growth

There are moments in leadership and personal growth when you can see what is coming before it has any visible form.

This isn’t wishful thinking or ambition.

It’s a deeper kind of knowing.

And yet, these moments often come with tension—the space between vision and visible results.

The Challenge of Vision Without Immediate Results

Recently, I found myself sitting in that space.

I could clearly see the next stage of my work: the conversations, the speaking engagements, the invitations, and the impact landing exactly where it was meant to. Internally, it felt real and already in motion.

But externally, it wasn’t fully visible.

There were signs of progress. Momentum was building. But the full expression hadn’t yet arrived.

This is a common experience in leadership, particularly for women—feeling ready for growth, yet not seeing immediate results.

Our conditioning often tells us to close that gap quickly:

Take more action
Push harder
Refine the strategy
Accelerate outcomes

But what if this gap isn’t something to fix?

The Mycelium Lesson: Growth Happens Beneath the Surface

In nature, growth doesn’t begin with what we see.

Consider mushrooms. They appear suddenly after rain—visible, tangible, undeniable. But what we don’t see is the vast mycelial network beneath the surface.

This underground system is constantly working:

Building connections
Preparing the environment
Creating the conditions for growth

By the time a mushroom appears, the real work has already been done.

The visible result is simply the final expression.

The same is true in leadership, business, and personal development.

Why Timing Matters More Than Readiness

In my own work - through keynotes, leadership conversations, and the Mycelatrix framework - I’m recognising that what is visible is only a small part of a much larger process.

Opportunities, invitations, and growth don’t appear simply because we are ready.

They appear when conditions are aligned.

This became clear through a recent keynote opportunity with an international organisation. The connection had been building for months. The invitation came naturally. Everything was opening.

And then, due to global events, it was paused.

The old mindset would have framed this as a setback—something to chase, fix, or force forward.

But a different understanding is emerging: Not everything that pauses is lost. Sometimes, it simply isn’t time.

A Different Kind of Discipline in Leadership

This is where leadership requires a different kind of discipline.

Not the disciplie of constant action, but the discipline of trust.

Trusting that:

Progress is happening, even when it’s not visible
Relationships and opportunities continue to develop beneath the surface
Timing and readiness are not the same thing

You can be fully ready...and still be early.

Trust the Unseen Work

If you are in a season where your vision is clear but your results are not yet visible, consider this:

Nothing has gone missing.

The network is active.
Growth is underway.

In leadership and in life, not all progress is visible.

Sometimes the most important work is happening where you cannot yet see it.

And just like the mycelial network beneath the soil, what is unseen is not absent.

It is preparing.

Power Without Control

Wed, 08 Apr 2026 00:30:00 GMT

Recently, I sensed two movements within me — one clear, the other still forming.

The clarity came from a postgraduate seminar I attended last week. As I listened to the discussion unfold, and particularly to the responses from others in the room, I realised something important: when I present my own work in May, I am likely to encounter similar pushback. Not because the work is weak, but because it touches something deeper - identity, belief, long-held frameworks of meaning.

I can prepare for that. Not by sharpening my arguments, but by grounding myself. By expecting resistance without personalising it. By holding a tone that reflects the very essence of my work - awareness without accusation, compassion without the removal of responsibility. I don’t need to resolve discomfort in the room. I only need to hold space for it.

Alongside this clarity, something else has been quietly rising: A recognition that much of what has filled my world for the past decade - social media, political commentary, prescribed ways of doing business - no longer feeds me. I still need to remain connected in order to share my work. But I no longer wish to be immersed in that constant stream of noise.

It leaves me asking a different question: How do I stay rooted while only lightly touching the surface?

There is something unsettling in this shift. Stepping back from constant visibility, from chasing outcomes, from managing how things unfold - it feels, at times, like relinquishing control. And that’s not comfortable.

Because control is the only model of power most of us have ever seen.

Control plans. Drives. Secures. Measures.

But what I am beginning to understand is this: control and power are not the same thing.

Control is often a response to uncertainty - an attempt to ensure that something happens. Power, however, does not need to grip. It does not disappear when effort is withdrawn. It remains.

This realisation came into sharp focus through a simple exchange. After the seminar, I wrote to the presenter, offering a reflection on his work - particularly on the role of shame in shaping defensive responses. His reply was generous and thoughtful. More than that, he engaged with the idea. He took it seriously.

I hadn’t tried to persuade or position. I had simply offered what I saw.

And it created movement.

That is when I recognised it: This is power, not control.

Control seeks to manage outcomes. Power changes the space in which outcomes arise.

It does not force agreement. It invites expansion.

There is still a sense of fear in this - a loosening of the structures that once provided reassurance. But alongside that fear is something steadier.

Not hope, which looks forward and waits to be confirmed. But trust.

Trust does not ask, “Will this work?”
It says, “I will meet what comes.”

And perhaps that is where real power begins - not in holding everything together, but in standing, grounded and present, as life unfolds.

Liminal Is Not Waiting: A Month Without Orientation

Mon, 23 Mar 2026 05:02:01 GMT

We often think of liminal spaces as waiting rooms. Temporary pauses between what was and what will be. Places we pass through on the way to something more real, more productive, more defined.

But what if a liminal space is not a waiting time at all?

What if it is a legitimate time in its own right?

I am currently in such a space. Not a tourist, not a resident. Here for a month. Long enough to settle, but not long enough to belong in the conventional sense. And in that in-between, something unexpected is emerging.

There is no expectation on me here.

That, in itself, is different.

I have come straight from a performance environment — a global speakers’ conference where identity is shaped through delivery, reception, and visibility. There are clear reference points: audience, outcomes,

feedback. You know where you stand.

And then… nothing.

No stage. No audience. No structure.

It is not disorienting in the sense of confusion. It is de-orienting — the removal of orientation altogether. The usual coordinates by which I locate myself have fallen away.

And what remains is a question I did not expect to face so directly:

Who am I when nothing is required of me?

I notice the reflex to produce. The subtle voice that says I should be doing something, achieving something, making use of this time. A lifelong imprint shaped by a work ethic that equates worth with output.

But here, that pattern is gently exposed.

Because nothing is asking that of me.

And in its place, something quieter begins to emerge.

Each morning, instead of asking what I need to do, I find myself asking: What is calling me today?

It is not a question of discipline in the traditional sense. It is discipline as self-trust. A willingness to listen rather than to impose.

Some days, what calls me is observation — the cadence of rain, the movement of birds, the rhythm of a place that does not hurry.

Some days, it is rest.

Some days, it is thought — a thread that wants to be followed, not forced.

Curiosity begins to lead.

And I am discovering that curiosity is not distraction. It is direction — just not in a linear form.

This space is gently confronting. It reveals how deeply the need to justify time through productivity has been embedded in me. And yet, it is also freeing. Because if creation itself was declared good without needing to achieve or produce, then perhaps there is a form of goodness — of wholeness — that exists simply in being.

This month is showing me that being is not the absence of work. It is the ground from which all true work emerges.

And perhaps that is the quiet invitation of liminal spaces: Not to rush through them. Not to fill them. But to inhabit them. Fully. Attentively.

Trusting that nothing essential is lost in the absence of urgency.

This is not an anomaly.

It may, in fact, be a more honest way of living.

The Words That Shape the World We Live In

Tue, 17 Mar 2026 23:15:00 GMT

At a recent speakers’ conference, I noticed a session titled Hooked and Booked. The presentation focused on how to craft talks that “sell themselves.” It clearly designed to help speakers think more strategically about their work.

Yet it was the title itself that stayed with me.

Hooked and Booked.

The phrase is clever, but when I paused to sit with it, I realised how much our professional language is shaped by metaphors of capture and conquest. “Hooked” comes from fishing - the act of catching something, often before it fully realises what has happened. “Booked” turns that moment of capture into a transaction.

None of this is unusual. In fact, it reflects the everyday language of business and marketing. We talk about grabbing attention, targeting markets, dominating the stage, winning clients, and closing deals. Much of this language comes from the worlds of warfare, hunting, and competition.

And it made me realise something quietly but clearly: these are metaphors I no longer want to live inside.

Language is never neutral. The words we choose shape how we understand influence, leadership, and success. If our language comes from warfare or capture, it subtly trains us to believe that power is something exercised over others - something we win, secure, or extract.

But what if the world we want to build requires a different language?

Much of my work now sits within the framework of Mycelatrix™ , which draws inspiration from the underground networks of mycelium in nature. Mycelial networks do not compete in the way we often imagine. Instead, they connect. They share nutrients. They strengthen the health of the entire ecosystem.

In that world, influence looks very different.

Instead of hooking people, we invite them.

Instead of capturing attention, we resonate with those who recognise something of themselves in the work.
Instead of targeting audiences, we speak to communities that already exist.

Influence becomes less about capture and far more about recognition.

This shift also helped me understand something about my own work as a speaker and writer. Many presentations promise action - practical steps to take tomorrow morning, tactics to implement immediately, strategies to drive results.

My work often asks for something different.

It asks for reflection.

Rather than pushing people toward action, it cultivates recognition - those quiet moments when someone suddenly sees something they had not seen before. Recognition of their own patterns, their leadership, their assumptions, or their influence.

Recognition is slower. It cannot be forced or engineered. It ripens in its own time. And perhaps that is why reflection can feel uncomfortable in environments that reward speed, performance, and certainty.

Yet reflection is often where real change begins.

The words we use matter because they reveal the world we believe in, and the world we are helping to create. When we speak in the language of conquest, we reinforce systems built on competition and control. When we speak in the language of connection, invitation, and growth, we open the possibility of something different.

Perhaps one of the quiet superpowers available to all of us is this:

To listen carefully to the words we use.
To notice when they no longer fit.
And to choose language that reflects the world we are ready to live in.

Because before we change systems or structures, we almost always change the words.

The Invisible Rules I Am Stepping Out Of

Wed, 11 Mar 2026 13:00:17 GMT

New Title

There is a moment — often quiet, often unannounced — when you realise that the rules you’ve been living by are no longer yours.

Not because they were malicious.
Not because the people who taught them were wrong.

But because they were written for a different nervous system, a different economy, and a different way of being in the world.

This year I have become conscious of a set of invisible rules that shape how women are expected to work, lead, create, and succeed. These rules are rarely spoken aloud. They are not enforced by contracts or policies, but by a more subtle force — anxiety. Many of us followed them because, at one time, they helped us stay safe or be accepted.

What I am doing now is not a rebellion against work, ambition, or discipline. It is something quieter than that. It is a reclaiming of authority — over my timing, my energy, my worth, and my voice.

One of the first rules I am stepping out of is the belief that if you are not visible, you are failing. The cultural script is simple: consistency equals credibility, and absence equals irrelevance. Women are trained to stay present, producing content, speaking, showing up, even when there is nothing meaningful ready to be said. Visibility becomes a moral obligation.

I am choosing something different: visibility that emerges from resonance rather than obligation. Words carry weight when they are true, not simply when they are frequent. Silence does not erase presence; often it deepens it.

Another rule insists that momentum must always be manufactured. We are taught to engineer movement through schedules, funnels, launches, and constant activity. Beneath this lies a persistent anxiety: Am I doing enough? Am I falling behind?

But not all momentum needs to be forced. Some of it gathers naturally. I am learning to allow interest to accumulate rather than chasing it, trusting that meaningful work develops its own pace.

A third rule quietly ties worth to commitment. When someone does not respond, the reflex is to follow up again, refine the pitch, try harder. Silence becomes something to interpret — often as personal failure.

Instead, I am practising what I call clean engagement. I follow up once, and then I release. Other people’s hesitation, delay, or silence is no longer a referendum on my value.

There is also a deeply embedded cultural belief that discipline must override intuition. Serious work, we are told, requires self-coercion. Intuition is dismissed as soft or unreliable, especially for women. Discipline is praised only when it looks like pushing through exhaustion or overriding the body’s signals.

I am learning a different form of discipline — one that listens. Commitments still matter, but timing becomes relational rather than punitive. The body, the mind, and the work itself all have something to say about readiness.

Another rule suggests that we must adapt ourselves to the platforms we use — shaping our thinking to suit algorithms, compressing nuance into simplified language, performing certainty to remain legible. Integrity becomes secondary to reach.

I am choosing to treat platforms as containers rather than authorities. My work travels through relationships and resonance, not just noise and metrics.

Finally, there is the expectation that success must be provable early. If results are not immediate, the assumption is that something is wrong. Slow development is treated with suspicion.

Yet some work needs to live underground before it becomes visible. Roots often deepen long before leaves appear.

Stepping outside these rules can unsettle people. For many women, following them once meant survival. Breaking them carried real consequences. When someone chooses another path, it can provoke fear, resentment, or longing.

But what I am trying to model is not a formula. It is a form of permission.

Permission for business to be relational rather than extractive.
Permission for timing to be learned rather than enforced.
Permission for authority to be embodied rather than performed.

I do not yet know all the outcomes of living this way. I am practising trust rather than control. I am learning a rhythm that honours my body, my mind, my relationships, and the work itself.

And for the first time in a long while, that feels less like risk — and more like freedom.

When Hope Requires Self-Betrayal

Wed, 17 Dec 2025 21:15:00 GMT

For many years, I lived on hope.

Not the light, spacious kind of hope that opens futures, but a heavy, determined hope that asked me to endure, to wait, to try harder. A hope that whispered: If you can just get this right, things will change.

Recently, while watching a television show, I recognised parts of my own life unfolding on the screen — a woman navigating a relationship shaped by imbalance, disappointment, and unspoken strain. What struck me wasn't the familiarity of the story, but my response to it. I could see it clearly. I could feel compassion. And yet I was no longer bound or defined by it.

That distance allowed a phrase to surface — one that has stayed with me ever since: Hope can require self-betrayal.

For over a decade in my first marriage, I hoped against hope. I hoped the relationship would improve. I hoped the toxicity I couldn't yet name would lessen. I hoped that if I could just find the right key — say the right thing, be the right version of myself — then the marriage would become healthy and whole.

What I couldn't see at the time was the cost of that hope.

In holding on to what I believed was a virtuous, faithful, even noble form of hope — shaped by my Christian faith and the cultural expectations placed on women within marriage — I was quietly betraying myself. I betrayed my needs. I betrayed my values of honesty, openness, and mutuality. I betrayed the truth that while I was strong, I could not — and should not — have to carry everything alone.

I needed partnership. I needed steadiness. I needed my husband's strength alongside my own.Instead, I learned to endure. To accommodate. To keep working at something that was not working for me.

The turning point did not come through greater effort or deeper faith. It came when hope finally died.

I realised — with devastating clarity — that there had never been a time when that relationship was truly healthy. Stable at moments, perhaps. Functional, mostly. But never grounded in the kind of mutual care and integrity that allows two people to flourish.

And when that hope died, something else became possible.

Without hope tethering me to an imagined future, I could finally listen to the truth of my own body, my own values, my own needs. I could begin to be faithful to myself — not as an act of selfishness, but as an act of integrity.

This reflection isn't an argument against hope itself. It is an invitation to examine what kind of hope we are holding — and at what cost.

If this resonates with you, if you recognise yourself in this tension between endurance and self-betrayal, I'd love to hear from you.

Does this strike a chord for you? Share your reflections in the comments below.
If you'd like to receive more writing like this , exploring integrity, identity, and the quiet reclaiming of self, you're warmly invited to join my newsletter by leaving your email details.

Sometimes the bravest act is not holding on — but letting go.

The Weight of Small Wounds

Tue, 09 Dec 2025 22:00:00 GMT

Over the past few days, I’ve been aware of a heaviness I couldn’t quite name. Nothing dramatic had happened. Life was unfolding as it usually does. And yet there was a quiet emotional density sitting just beneath the surface — not overwhelming, but persistent, as though something inside me was waiting to be acknowledged.
It wasn’t until this morning that the clarity arrived.

As I reflected on why certain novels affect me so deeply — why I sometimes need to close the book and let tears gather — I recognised something essential about myself: it is not the dramatic scenes or the grand tragedies that undo me. It is the small moments. The quiet cruelties. The dismissive words. The everyday meanness that characters inflict on one another without even noticing.

A sharp comment.
A look intended to diminish.
A casual hurt passed off as nothing.

Those are the moments that pierce me. Those are the ones that bring the tears.And today I finally understood why.

I know the weight of small wounds .
I have lived them.

My first marriage was marked by passive-aggressive behaviour — not explosive, not overt, but steady, quiet harm. Tiny cuts delivered without ownership. Each one too minor to point to, but collectively erosive. Over time, I learned what emotional abrasion feels like: the slow wearing-down, the internal calculation of “Is this worth mentioning?” and the ongoing tolerance of harm that never quite qualifies as harm.
Death by a thousand cuts. That is how I used to describe it.

So when I encounter subtle hurt in fiction, it resonates instantly. It’s not about reliving the past. It’s about my body recognising the energetic shape of something familiar. Not trauma returning, but truth remembered.

And interestingly, once I named it — once I said internally, Ah, this is the weight of small wounds — the heaviness lifted. Completely. The clarity itself was release.This is what healing looks like now. I don’t brace against the feeling. I don’t collapse beneath it. I don’t override it with logic or judgement. Instead, I let the sensation move through, noticing it with tenderness and then allowing it to go.

There is no torment in this recognition. There is only testimony.

The tears that rise when I read those scenes are no longer the tears of a woman burdened by her past. They are the tears of a woman who survived, who understands herself, and who feels deeply without losing herself.

And there is a broader truth here for women in leadership.

Small wounds happen everywhere — in workplaces, meetings, families, communities. They are often dismissed because they are subtle. But their impact on confidence, belonging, and self-trust is profound.

Naming them is part of reclaiming power. Feeling them is part of reclaiming humanity. Speaking about them — publicly, on platforms not always designed for feminine wisdom — is part of reshaping leadership itself.

I share this here because women need to see their emotional intelligence reflected and validated. Because leadership that makes room for nuance, empathy, and embodiment is stronger, not weaker. And because the weight of small wounds lifts the moment we recognise it for what it is.

If this resonates with you, I invite you to share your reflections below or join my mailing list for weekly updates.

When the Heart Dances First

Wed, 03 Dec 2025 22:00:00 GMT

The Gentle Art of Becoming

Recently, I found myself in Sydney, wandering along Circular Quay. A huge cruise ship was docked, its towering presence casting a long shadow across the wharf, and tourists were doing what tourists do — drifting in clusters, taking photos, following tour guides with small flags or signs, absorbing everything with a kind of wide-eyed openness.

I had no particular agenda that morning. I was simply walking, letting my feet find their own pace. And that was when I heard her.

Off to one side, a young woman sat with an electric violin tucked under her chin, her bow moving with effortlessly. What poured out wasn’t classical or recognisable; it was the kind of music that seems to pulse from somewhere deep within the earth. My feet began tapping, my hips swayed a little. I stopped. I listened. And something inside me — something that lives closer to instinct than intention — whispered: Dance.

I walked over, placed some money in her case, and said, with a smile that felt almost too wide for my face, “Your music makes me want to dance.”She beamed. “Oh, you can dance!” she said, sweeping her arm out toward the open space around us.

It was such a simple statement, so matter-of-fact.
Of course I could dance.
Of course the space was mine.
Of course the invitation was real.
And yet — I didn’t move.

Not because I didn’t want to. But because of something quieter, deeper, more familiar. A thread of conditioning woven through decades of being a woman in a culture that teaches its girls early and relentlessly:

Don’t draw attention to yourself.
Don’t make a spectacle of your body.
Don’t be too much.
Don’t take up space. And so, I didn’t dance with my feet.

But I danced in my heart.I softened into her music. I let it move inside me. Tears pricked unexpectedly, and I smiled — widely, openly, unapologetically — because even though my body stayed anchored to the ground, something in me was dancing, freely and without restraint.

nd perhaps even more importantly: I did not berate myself for not dancing.

I didn’t call myself cowardly.
I didn’t scold myself for “missed opportunities.”
I didn’t shame the hesitation.
I didn’t demand instant transformation.

There was a time in my life — a long time — when I would have.But on this morning, I simply allowed myself to be exactly where I was.
I stayed.
I listened.
I softened.
I let the music reach the places in me that were ready to be reached — no more, no less.

And the kindness I offered myself in that moment felt like its own kind of dance.
Soft.
Unhurried.
Born of deep knowing.

Because the truth is this: You cannot undo decades of conditioning in a single moment of courage. Nor should you force yourself to.

The work of becoming — true becoming — doesn’t happen through pressure or force or emotional gymnastics. It happens slowly, gradually, almost imperceptibly, until one day the light is simply there and you realise you are standing in it.

The Gentle Work of Becoming

We have been sold, in so many ways, the myth of the dramatic transformation: the big leap, the grand gesture, the overnight change. And yet, if you pay attention to your actual lived experience, you’ll notice that your deepest shifts never happen that way.

They begin quietly.
Privately.
Softly.Long before there is any external sign, something inside you reorients itself. A small courage awakens. A long-buried longing surfaces. A truth you’ve been avoiding finally speaks clearly.

What I’ve learned — and what Mycelatrix™ is built upon — is that real transformation does not rush.
It unfolds.Just like mycelium beneath the forest floor, change spreads invisibly first. Networks form. New life stirs. Strength gathers quietly. And only later — sometimes much later — does something break the surface where others can see it.

This way of being isn’t passive. It isn’t avoidance. It is organic.
It is alive.
It is sustainable.

In the Mycelatrix™ world, everything grows from the inside out:

Roots before fruit.
Resonance before visibility.
Inner movement before outer action.

This honours the truth that change has its own timing — just like my urge to dance did. The moment wasn’t wrong. My response wasn’t wrong. The internal dance was real, even if my feet remained still.

When we show ourselves kindness at these small, quiet thresholds, something profound happens. The old conditioning — the “don’t be seen,” the “don’t be too much,” the “don’t step out of line” — begins to loosen.

Not shattered or destroyed (that, too, is a myth), but softened. Made porous. Rewritten from within.

And one day, without forcing anything, you may find yourself rising from the bench, stepping out into the open space, and dancing — not because you pushed yourself to “be brave,” but because something in you simply said: Now.

That is the Mycelatrix™ way.
That is becoming without breaking yourself open.

An Invitation to You

So let me ask you gently: Where in your life are you longing to “dance,” but still learning to soften the conditioning that holds you still?

And more importantly: What would it feel like to offer yourself the same kindness — the same spacious, Mycelatrix™ gentleness — as you take your next small step?

You don’t need to leap.
You don’t need to perform bravery.
You don’t need to “fix” decades of inherited patterns in one moment.Let it unfold.
Let your heart move first.
Your feet will follow when they’re ready.

I’d love to hear from you. If this reflection resonated with you — if you’ve had your own “almost-dancing” moments, or if you’re learning to be gentler with yourself as you grow — I invite you to share your thoughts in the comments below.

And if you’d like more reflections like this, alongside my ongoing work with Mycelatrix™, leadership, archetypes, and the quiet revolutions of self-awareness, you’re warmly welcome to subscribe to my newsletter for weekly insights.

Your voice, your journey, your unfolding — they matter here.

When Objectivity is an Illusion - and why it matters for power.

Wed, 26 Nov 2025 23:00:00 GMT

We often hear the advice: take a helicopter view. Rise above the detail. Step back. Be fiercely objective. It's familiar guidance in research, leadership, and personal development — the belief that clarity comes from distancing ourselves from the tangle of specifics.

But the more deeply I reflect on this idea, the more apparent it becomes that pure objectivity — the clean, unfiltered vantage point we imagine — doesn't really exist.

Not because we aren't trying hard enough. But because we are human.

Every one of us carries a unique constellation of experiences, beliefs, assumptions, and unconscious biases. They shape how we interpret the world long before we have a chance to "zoom out." They determine what we notice, what we ignore, and the stories we instinctively attach to situations. To insist we can fully remove ourselves from this inner landscape risks hiding its influence rather than illuminating it.

Objectivity, in its truest and most ethical form, doesn't require us to deny bias. It asks us to recognise it.

It asks us to name the lenses through which we see. To be transparent about our own positioning. To acknowledge the forces — personal, cultural, relational — that shape our perceptions.

This isn't a flaw in our perspective. It's a strength.

When we become aware of our biases, they lose their power to operate unnoticed. When we understand how we are shaped, we gain the capacity to step back with greater clarity, not less. Awareness becomes the anchor that allows us to hold critical distance without pretending we stand outside our own humanity. This is the quiet revolution at the centre of the work I do: awareness as a form of power.

Not the loud kind. Not the heroic kind. But the grounded, steady kind that transforms how we lead, relate, and make sense of complexity.

True clarity doesn't come from standing above the landscape. It comes from knowing the contours of our own inner terrain. It's slow work. Deep work. Transformative work. And it's available to all of us.

Reflection for you: Where might acknowledging your own assumptions or biases actually increase your clarity, rather than compromise it?

If this speaks to you... I'd love you to join the conversation. Share your thoughts in the comments — or if you'd like more reflections like this, you're warmly invited to join my mailing list for weekly updates and insights. Your awareness is a power. Let's explore it together.

Embracing Ageing: A Cultural Act of Rebellion

Wed, 19 Nov 2025 21:00:00 GMT

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In Western culture, ageing is treated as something to resist. When value is tied to productivity, fertility, and physical strength, the years between 20 and 40 become our cultural ideal — the so-called "prime of life."

We see it everywhere: anti-ageing creams, fitness programs that promise to "get your body back," and the admiration for those who "don't look their age." Ageing is framed as a problem to be fixed, not a process to be honoured.

Both men and women feel this pressure, but it affects women more deeply. Men remain fertile for life; women do not. A greying man is seen as wise or powerful. A greying woman is often described as "past her best."

But what if that entire narrative is wrong?

I've chosen to embrace ageing — intentionally, decade by decade. It hasn't always been easy, but it has been freeing. As I move through my sixties and prepare to turn seventy, I've discovered a different kind of power: one rooted in creativity, wisdom, and perspective. My energy isn't what it was at thirty — but my insight, compassion, and clarity are far richer.

To embrace ageing is an act of rebellion in a culture that glorifies youth. It's to say: I am still here. I am still becoming. Old is not a dirty word. It's a declaration. It's the visible truth of a life fully lived — and that's something worth celebrating.

Reflection:

What would it mean for you to embrace ageing — not as loss, but as liberation? Love to hear your thoughts - please leave a comment below.

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The Gift of the Storm

Wed, 12 Nov 2025 21:00:00 GMT

Sometimes the clouds gather more than once before we understand what they're trying to show us.

A few days ago, I drew The Clouds card from my oracle deck — twice. The message that came with it was simple but powerful: "If you continue chasing after unrealistic ideas and keep floating in the clouds, success will continue to elude you. Success needs vision and down-to-earth execution."

That spoke to where I am right now — holding a clear vision for my speaking and Mycelatrix work, while staying grounded in the daily, practical actions that bring that vision to life.

Then a real-life storm appeared. I discovered two unexplained transactions on my business account. For a brief moment, the clouds thickened. I contacted the bank, reported the transactions, and had my card cancelled. It all unfolded calmly — no panic, no drama. Later, I learned the payments were legitimate annual renewals for an online service I use.

What could have been a stressful episode instead became something else entirely — a moment of clarity and confirmation. I realised that I had acted from calm self-trust. I didn't spiral into fear or self-blame. I simply did what needed to be done. And that's when I saw it: the gift of the storm.

Storms — whether financial, emotional, or relational — often come uninvited. Some shake our foundations; others pass quickly. Yet every storm carries a gift: it shows us who we are when the winds rise. It reminds us that we are capable, resourceful, and steady. For me, this small storm cleared the air. I now have a new business card, a fresh start, and a renewed sense of confidence as the year draws to a close. The Clouds card, drawn twice, has revealed its deeper message: I can stand firm. I can trust myself. The gift of the storm isn't found in the storm itself — it's in what's revealed when it passes. The clearer sky. The steadier ground. The deeper knowing of who we truly are.

Reflection:

Have you ever faced a storm — big or small — that revealed a hidden strength in you? I'd love to hear your story. Share it in the comments below, or if this reflection resonates with you, subscribe to my newsletter for more stories about the power we discover in everyday life.

When The Air Feels Heavy

Wed, 05 Nov 2025 21:00:00 GMT

A recent comment gave me pause to reflect: that Māori energy feels 'heavy' at the moment. I wonder if what is named as heaviness is, in fact, history speaking.

Māori energy isn't heavy by nature — it's burdened by centuries of harm still unhealed. It carries the long memory of colonisation, of a treaty honoured in law but rarely in spirit. It's the collective weight of survival: the effort of continually asserting identity and sovereignty in a nation that still centres whiteness as the default.

When governments begin rolling back progress, when language and land rights are questioned, when policies lean nostalgic for "simpler times" — times when white men ruled without question — that weight deepens. The haka, that powerful embodiment of pride, becomes both celebration and protest. It speaks of resilience and resistance, of the pain of being unseen and the power of refusing to disappear.

From across the waters, I see a similar story playing out here in Australia. First Nations peoples also carry a heaviness, one that many non-Indigenous Australians are quick to misread. After the Voice referendum's defeat, that heaviness grew thicker, not because hope had died, but because yet again the message was clear: You may live here, but your voice will not shape this nation's future.

It's easy to label that energy as heavy. Harder to ask why.

What my friend feels is not Māori anger alone — it's the spiritual and emotional residue of ongoing injustice. It's the ache of being unheard. And perhaps, if we are honest, it's also the discomfort of privilege sensing its own reflection.

So maybe the better question isn't why are they so heavy? but what weight have I not been willing to feel?

Because when one group shoulders the pain of a nation, the imbalance touches everyone. The land itself grows weary under that distortion. The heaviness isn't theirs alone — it's shared, whether we acknowledge it or not.

Perhaps the invitation, then, is to stay present to the heaviness rather than recoil from it. To let empathy, not defensiveness, guide our response. To understand that grief, resistance, and pride can coexist — and that each carries truth.

When the air feels heavy, it may not be a warning. It may be a call — to listen, to learn, to finally take our part in lifting the weight.

What heaviness are you being asked to feel, rather than fear? Love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

If you'd like to learn more, or continue this conversation, subscribe to me weekly email newsletter.

From Lone Wolf to Living Web

Thu, 16 Oct 2025 22:00:00 GMT

A New Model of Quiet Leadership

Many of us have grown up on stories of leadership defined by presence — the person at the front of the room, commanding attention, taking charge, holding the vision. The alpha model has been our cultural shorthand for strength: decisive, dominant, unshakable.

But a new archetype has been emerging in recent years — the sigma leader. Often portrayed as a "lone wolf," the sigma operates outside traditional hierarchies. They lead quietly, guided by their own compass rather than public validation. Independent, self-contained, and comfortable on the edges, the sigma archetype offers an appealing alternative to the noisy assertiveness of the alpha.

It suggests that leadership doesn't have to mean dominance — that autonomy, authenticity, and inner strength can be enough. And yet, something about this image still feels incomplete. Because the lone wolf still walks alone.

And leadership, at its most transformative, is never solitary. The sigma's self-reliance can easily slip into isolation — a story of strength that forgets the power of connection.

That's where Mycelatrix™ leadership enters the conversation. Where the sigma values independence, Mycelatrix™ values interdependence. It keeps the integrity, the inward strength, the quiet conviction — but roots them in relationship.

Like mycelium beneath the forest floor — unseen yet vital — Mycelatrix™ leadership moves through the unseen networks of trust, empathy, and shared purpose. It doesn't seek the spotlight. It doesn't compete for dominance. It leads through resonance, not rank. Through coherence, not control.

Where the sigma says, "I stand apart," Mycelatrix™ whispers, "I am part of the living web."

This is leadership as ecology — a living system where power circulates rather than accumulates. It's not the lone wolf. Nor the alpha at the top. But the quiet, intelligent web that connects and sustains everything else.

In a world that still rewards visibility over substance, Mycelatrix™ leadership offers a quiet revolution. It invites us to lead through relationship, not rivalry. To influence through presence, not performance. To remember that leadership is not about standing above others, but standing among them — deeply rooted, quietly alive, and in rhythm with the whole.

The mycelium doesn't ask permission to grow. It simply spreads — through resonance, through connection, through the fertile soil of trust.

That's what leadership can be: not the lone wolf, but the living web that holds the forest together.

Where does your quiet influence flow — and who is nourished by the web you're part of?

I Am the Script

Thu, 25 Sep 2025 03:33:00 GMT

I have regularly prepared for masterclasses and workshops using carefully-planned scripts. Every word planned, every transition carefully marked. It gave me a sense of safety — if I knew the script, I knew I could deliver.

But something shifted.

I realised that when I spoke, what resonated most deeply wasn't the line I had crafted perfectly, but the moment I set the script aside and spoke from myself — my body, my experience, my knowing. That is when people leaned in. That is when the connection sparked.

And so I find myself moving into a new way of leading, not through lack of preparation, but through trust in what I already carry. Now, when I run a full-day masterclass it can be without a script. Not because I haven't prepared, but because I have. The preparation isn't on the page anymore — it's in me.

This is what I call embodied knowledge.

When you've lived something, studied it, wrestled with it, tested it, it doesn't just sit in your head as theory. It becomes part of you. The stories are yours. The insights are yours. The wisdom is yours. And when you stand up to teach, lead, or share, you don't need to clutch a script because you are the script.

There's a freedom in this. A spaciousness. Instead of straining to remember the next line or worrying about whether I've covered every dot point, I can pay attention to the people in front of me. I can notice their questions, their silences, their sparks of recognition. I can respond in the moment, not because I'm improvising, but because I already carry the substance within me. It doesn't mean I won't prepare. I will always prepare. But preparation is different now. It's not about writing every word. It's about grounding myself in the essence of what I want to share and trusting that the right words will come when I open my mouth. "I am the script" is more than a mantra for teaching — it's a way of living.

How often do we rely on external scripts in our lives? Scripts about what success should look like. Scripts about how women should lead. Scripts about ageing, about family, about worth. These scripts can keep us small, contained, safe — but they can also keep us from trusting what is already in us.

When we say, "I am the script," we take back authority. We say: I carry enough. I don't need to mimic someone else's words or patterns. My life is the material. My wisdom is the content. My voice is the script. And in that moment, we lead not from performance, but from presence.

Laying Down the Mirror

Mon, 02 Jun 2025 00:30:00 GMT

A Life Reclaimed

There is a quiet revolution unfolding within me. Not one of defiance, but of release.

For so long, I wore the garments stitched from others' expectations—parents, church, family, tradition. I felt glassy and brittle, I was merely mirroring what others needed me to be. It was survival masquerading as identity.

But I see it now, and I see who I was then not with contempt, but with compassion. She kept me safe in a world that prized obedience over authenticity. But she isn't needed anymore. Her work is done.

The persistence that defined me—at school, in marriage, in ministry—wasn't just tenacity. It was the clenched jaw of a woman trying to hold together a self she never chose. And now? I'm releasing that persistence. No longer pushing. No longer striving to prove or belong. I am choosing instead to rest. To flow. To be.

I understand now why the concept of authentic leadership has always burned so brightly within me. Because at this stage of life - this third act – it's not about leading as others expect. but about leading from the core of who I truly am. Unfiltered. Undiminished. Whole.

I've come to see that the life I lived before 50 was shaped by boundaries not of my making—interpretations of old words, filtered through centuries and sewn tightly into a corset of obligation. I thought that was my real life. But it was a persona. A mask. An echo.

Now, I know: the woman I am today is not a deviation. She is the original. The true. The real Bronwyn.

Old patterns still whisper. I expect they always will. But I no longer answer. I don't need to fight them. I simply acknowledge their presence, and let them drift past like autumn leaves on water. They are no longer mine to carry.

This journey is not without its grief. There is sadness for what was lost or never found. But that sorrow is gentle now. It lives beside the joy of rediscovery. Because I'm not leaving my past behind in anger. I am laying it down in gratitude.

Today, I feel the ground beneath me differently. Not as a platform I must perform upon, but as soil I can root into. I no longer need to reflect light. I generate it. From within. Unapologetically. This is the gift of a life reclaimed.

Reclaiming Myself

Sun, 25 May 2025 23:45:00 GMT

The Quiet Undoing of Self-Erasure

There was a time – I was around the age of 40 - when I was quietly slipping away from myself, although I didn't see it at the time. I'd just had my third son and I was depressed. My then-husband and I attended counselling, at which the psychologist gently suggested that I wasn't just carrying my own depression - I was carrying his too.

That made sense to me. For most of my first marriage, I took responsibility for my husband's mental health and happiness. I thought that was my role as a good wife. And I disappeared in the process.

What I can see now is that I'd engaged in self-erasure—the quiet, consistent dismantling of my own needs, voice, and presence in service of someone else's. And I know I'm not alone, that self-erasure is something far too many women do. Often it's praised—being selfless, loyal, sacrificial.

But it costs us our vitality, our identity, our joy.

I'm learning that reversing that tendency is not a one-time act. It's a steady, often painful practice of reappearing. Here's what I'm doing to show up:

Name the pattern Self-erasure is subtle. It's saying "I'm fine" when you're breaking. It's not applying for the role because "he needs the spotlight." It starts with noticing the moments when we shrink. Naming it robs it of power.
Reclaim desire I had no idea what I wanted for years. Desire had been equated with selfishness. But wanting—to rest, to create, to speak—wasn't wrong. It was the beginning of coming alive again.
Anchor in values rather than roles Roles—wife, mother, leader—change or collapse. But values endure. When I reoriented around what I truly valued (courage, creativity, connection) I found a steadiness that no role could offer.
Make myself the subject, not the object For so long I saw myself through others' eyes. Now I ask: What do I see? What do I need? This re-centring is sacred work.
Practice self-reflection to foster action Insight alone isn't enough. Action is important, like setting boundaries and asking for what I need.
Be witnessed by others Healing didn't happen alone. I needed other women to see me, to hear me. In their gaze, I began to reappear.
Tell the truth of my life This is the most powerful act of reemergence. Speaking the truth of that season - the depression, the numbness, the quiet ache for something more - has become part of my wholeness. I know now that telling the truth of my life – even if it's hard for me (or others) to hear – is vital, something to honour.

I can look back at that younger version of myself now with compassion, not shame. She did what she could with what she knew. But I'm no longer her. I've stepped into the woman I was always meant to be. Not erased. Not hidden. Fully here.

Have you ever felt yourself fading? It's never too late to reappear.

True poser is more than positional authority

Thu, 28 Nov 2024 22:00:00 GMT

True Power is far more than Positional Authority.

Not long after I returned from working with asylum seekers on Nauru I moved into a new role that saw me in an associate leadership role. Technically, we were to partner in leadership. In practice, I was treated as second class, excluded from leadership decisions, and very much made to feel unwelcome.

As I talked with a friend about this time, she commented about how much one of the other leaders was jealous of me, how he was threatened by me, how he bullied me. I was so glad to have this person's behaviour named so clearly. It enabled me to put a lid on that time in my working life. It also gave me a clear example of true power.

The person who was jealous of me, who bullied me, had positional power. However, it was my intrinsic organic inner power that threatened him.

Many of us know what is like to be bullied. And I'm here to tell you that it is your power that threatens the insecure.

Your insistence on authenticity. Your ability to sit comfortably with who you are.

Being excluded and bullied is hard to deal with. Knowing that it's your power that threatens a bully does not take away from the real pain they can cause you.

Don't allow bullies to convince you that you're the problem. Don't let their insecurity dim your light. Stand in your power.

Identifying Barriers to Inclusivity in the Workplace

Thu, 21 Nov 2024 22:00:00 GMT

What's stopping my team from being fully inclusive?

Many organisations face the challenge of building truly inclusive teams, despite investing in diversity and inclusion initiatives. A common question arises: What's stopping my teams from being fully inclusive? Often, the answer lies in unseen barriers—hidden factors influencing workplace culture, decision-making, and team dynamics—that are not immediately obvious. Addressing these unseen influences is key to fostering genuine inclusivity.

Uncovering the Unseen

The first step towards solving this problem is to uncover what's hidden. Unconscious drivers of behaviour play a significant role in shaping how decisions are made—whether it's in recruitment, promotion, or whose opinions carry weight in meetings. Many people are unaware of how these subtle, often deeply ingrained, forces impact their daily interactions.

Effective unconscious bias training goes beyond merely introducing concepts. It involves helping individuals and teams identify the specific hidden factors that are affecting their behaviour and the dynamics within their organisation. By bringing these influences to light, teams can begin dismantling the barriers that prevent them from being truly inclusive.

Addressing Emotional and Psychological Barriers

Another key aspect of effective unconscious bias training is understanding the emotional and psychological dimensions that underpin many of these hidden behaviours. Research into the intersection of bias and emotions, such as shame or fear, reveals how these deeply felt but often unspoken feelings can shape workplace interactions.

Without addressing these emotional underpinnings, awareness alone may not lead to lasting change. By exploring how emotions like shame can contribute to biased behaviour, individuals can work through these feelings and create a more open, inclusive environment. This process of self-awareness leads to more thoughtful, inclusive decision-making, as individuals become conscious of the internal drivers shaping their actions.

Empowering Leadership, Especially Women

Women in leadership positions often face additional challenges due to societal expectations that may limit their potential. While unconscious bias training often focuses on identifying bias within teams, it's also essential for women to recognise any unconscious factors that may be holding them back from fully owning their leadership role.

Self-reflection, understanding personal values, and developing personal empowerment are key elements in addressing these challenges. Leaders who are more aware of their own drivers are better equipped to foster inclusive environments within their teams, creating workplaces where all voices are heard and valued.

Providing Practical Tools for Inclusion

Awareness of unconscious influences is just the beginning. To achieve lasting change, organisations need practical, actionable tools that can be applied in everyday workplace interactions. Effective training offers strategies that help individuals recognise when unconscious drivers are influencing decisions and how to engage in open, honest conversations that promote inclusivity.

The ability to tailor these strategies to different organisational contexts is crucial. Every workplace has unique challenges, and the most effective solutions are those that address the specific needs and goals of the organisation, whether in a corporate, nonprofit, or governmental setting.

A Holistic Approach to Inclusivity

Ultimately, successful unconscious bias training should offer more than just raising awareness. It should facilitate a deeper understanding of the hidden factors influencing behaviour, provide practical tools for overcoming these barriers, and support lasting, meaningful change. Organisations that embrace a holistic approach will see real results—teams that are more inclusive, leaders who are more self-aware, and workplaces that are more equitable. True inclusivity requires ongoing effort, reflection, and action. By recognising and addressing the unseen influences at play, organisations can take significant steps towards fostering a more inclusive, dynamic, and fair working environment.

What can we learn from The Patchwork Girl?

Thu, 14 Nov 2024 22:00:00 GMT

What can we learn from The Patchwork Girl?

Let me tell you about the Patchwork Girl.

Like all little girls, she was born perfect, but she didn't know that. As she grew, her parents would say, Be a good girl. Don't do that. This is what a good girl should do. Each of those ideas was sewn like patchwork pieces over who she really was.

She started school and her teacher said Stand here, Sit up straight, Don't scratch, Don't talk. You can't do that. And she allowed her teachers to sew more patchwork over her skin. Adding a new piece here. Another patch there. Friends told her how she should behave, what she should wear, how she should speak. And she let them sew more patchwork pieces over her heart.

As she grew older, not only did The Patchwork Girl let other people sew patchwork pieces onto her she started looking for pieces to sew onto herself because that must be what you do as a woman – become what people say you should be, act the way other people say you should act, think what other people say you should think. She became very adept at finding new pieces to stitch onto the patchwork. That was her life. A piece here, a patch there. All different shapes, sizes and colours.

She thought this must be what being beautiful looked like. The little girl had long ago forgotten who she really was, forgotten that she was beautiful, forgotten what she needed, forgotten that she was perfect in every way.

Until one day, she felt she could no longer take one more piece of patchwork being added to her life. The stitches were pulling terribly on her heart. Everything hurt. And so, she made the decision to start unpicking some of the patchwork pieces.

A patch here, a piece there - and this hurt but not as much as the weight she'd been carrying for so long. Some of those pieces of patch work were stitched with big stitches that went deep inside. Some of them were easy to remove – snip, snip, snip, and the piece fell away. It was the pieces that were closest to her heart that were the hardest to unstitch, the ones that had been sewn on the longest.

Finally, one day she was naked. She no longer had any pieces of the patchwork of other people's expectations, other people's needs. She could see who she really was. She was naked, and she was beautiful. And she was perfect.

She is me. And she is us.

Whether we're trans, cis-gender, gay, straight, non-binary, disabled, older, younger, however we show up in the world, so many women are like that Patchwork Girl. We've all had pieces of other people's needs and expectations added to our lives – often to the extent that we can no longer see who we really are.

More than this, women have been fed two lies.

One, that all we can be is princesses, with no power, waiting to be awakened by a kiss or rescued from a tower. Two, that we cannot use our power because when we do we turn into evil queens or wicked stepmothers, cruelly manipulating people to get our own way. However, there is a third way, my personal strategy which I've codified for women who seek to rediscover and reconnect with their true power as they unstitch the patchwork pieces of other people's expectations and discover the unique, beautiful, powerful person they truly are.

When women understand the powerful truth that there is truly more to us than meets the eye then together we can create the worlds we have been dreaming of.

World's where equity and equilibrium are the norm in the workplace. Where however people show up in the world, we are valued for what we bring to table, not penalised – consciously or covertly – for perceived lack. Where diversity of understanding and outlook are celebrated because leaders recognise that diversity builds innovation, productivity and cohesiveness.

As women cherish their needs, we ensure that our reserves of power are replenished so that we bring their best self to the table. When women identify our values, we lay a strong foundation for authentic decision-making that allows businesses and organisations to clearly pursue their goals. As women recognise the narratives that drive our lives, we are no longer blindsided by unconscious attitudes and outlooks that can hijack goals and shipwreck careers. By developing the subtle art of self-reflection women tap into the depths of our characters, build understanding of how we operate and strengthen the compassion and empathy that is essential for healthy workplace culture. As women rewrite the stories of our lives, leaving behind the narratives that no longer serve us and shape new stories we bring a powerful authenticity to all that we do.

And the men, the allies, who support women as we tap into our power discover that this growth of power in women does not diminish their own. They discover that there is no zero-sum game where for women to succeed others must fail. And understand that the slices of 'pie' are unlimited – in fact, the pie expands rather than diminishes.

And men discover that the strategy that works for women also works for them. That they too can cherish their needs without embarrassment, they can stand firm on the values they've identified, can understand and work with their own unconscious drivers, they can take time to reflect on their lives and write new life stories if the old ones no longer serve them. Together, women and men can create the worlds we have been dreaming of.

The Ghost of Christmas Past

Thu, 07 Nov 2024 22:00:00 GMT

Can we lay these ghosts to rest?

Many of us are familiar with Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, in which Ebenezer Scrooge is visited by three ghosts on Christmas Eve - the first of which is the ghost of Christmas past. This ghost takes Scrooge into the memories of the past, reminding him of a love lost.

There are times when I sense that some of my memories are like that ghost of Christmas past when they remind of times in my life. It is when the memories raised are of difficult times that make me sick to my stomach, and I wish I could lay these memories, these ghosts, to rest.

A memory came ghost-like recently of a time I felt trapped. Trapped in a dysfunctional marriage that I felt I could not leave. Too often, women (and some men) who are in troubled and abusive marriages feel trapped. They'd like to leave but feel that they can't. And, too often, the question is raised, "Why don't they just leave?" The answer is not simple.

For me, leaving my first marriage felt impossible. I was constrained, not only by having children to look after, but more so by the narratives and expectations of the faith tradition in which I was raised and in which I continued to operate. The narrative that said marriage was ordained by God and its vows were not to be broken. The narrative that said a woman was responsible for the health of the marriage and that I should just keep trying to make the marriage work. The narrative that said that divorce was an unforgivable sin.

When the 'ghost' of this time brought these memories back I wished I'd never had these narratives in my life. But as the old saying goes; "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride." Wishing is futile, but that I do this speaks to the depths of the pain that these memories bring back. I've broken out of the narratives of the past. I've written new narratives for my life.

So, what does this have to do with business and career?

All of us have a ghost of Christmas past. We all have memories that we'd like to lay to rest. We all have narratives that shape how we operate, how we relate to others, how we make decisions, and how we view others and the world at large. And we bring all of that with us into every place we go, every role we undertake, and every interaction with have in the day.

What is important to know is that all of us can discard the narratives that no longer serve us - even those that have been with us from childhood. And we can write new narratives that shape a new way of being in the world.

I don't know if I'll ever lay these memories, these ghosts, to rest. But what I do know is that I am the person I am today because I've had the experiences I've had. And I have power because of it.

Personal Branding and Reinventing Yourself Online

Thu, 31 Oct 2024 22:00:00 GMT

I'm not a personal or business branding specialist. However, I have learnt a thing or two from trial and error, by watching what others do and by learning directly from others.

And none of this is rocket science!

Be yourself. If being funny is not something that comes naturally...don’t try to be a comedian. If, like me, you’re naturally serious, use that to your advantage. Who you are is unique. Be yourself. Bring the authentic you into the online space. Only you can do you!
Trust yourself. I can hear you...you feel like you don’t know enough. Maybe you don’t. But you know something — and chances are what you know has its own unique spin. You have an outlook only you can have. Bring that. Trust that. It’s enough.
Aim for progress, not perfection. One of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever received is to aim for progress, not perfection. Perfection is the thief of progress and momentum. Just start. Just do it — great slogan! You’ll get better as you make progress.
Stay in your lane. For sooooo long I compared myself with others — and found myself wanting. A friend told me to put the measuring tape away. Who I am, who you are, is unique. Bring who you are out to play. Who you are — not who someone else is.
Trust the process. Whether you’re building a business on LinkedIn, or highlighting your skills on Instagram or YouTube, or using any other online platform, keep turning up, keep posting, keep putting yourself out there. Shape and re-shape your message. Keep at it. The process works if you do. Trust the process.

None of what I’ve written above is original — there’s nothing new under the sun (and when those words were penned thousands of years ago, I bet they weren’t original even then!) That doesn’t stop me from sharing the ideas with my particular slant. I know someone will read this and think, “I hadn’t thought of it quite like that,” or “I needed a reminder of this today.”

My brand represents who I am.

I’ve learnt to trust myself, to show up as myself.
I’ve learnt to trust the process, to not wait for perfection before I get started.
I really hope you will too.

Ageism

Sun, 23 Jun 2024 19:15:00 GMT

A Pervasive Bias Across Cultures

Ageism, the prejudice against individuals based on their age, stands out as one of the most prevalent implicit biases worldwide. Over the past fifteen years, extensive research across diverse countries has consistently highlighted this phenomenon. Interestingly, even in cultures traditionally believed to hold greater respect for the elderly, such as in various Asian societies, ageism persists.

The impetus to analyse data from Asian countries stemmed from a commonly held Western belief: that Asian cultures inherently value and respect their elders more than their American or European counterparts. However, the findings challenge this notion, revealing that ageist attitudes are, unfortunately, a global issue. This uniformity in bias suggests that the stereotypes and negative perceptions of aging are deeply entrenched in human societies.

A particularly intriguing aspect of ageism is the discord between how older individuals are perceived by society and how they perceive themselves. Many older adults often express sentiments like, "I only feel 20 inside," highlighting a significant divergence between their chronological age and their internal self-perception. This dissonance can be quite profound, underscoring a psychological reality that contrasts sharply with societal expectations and stereotypes.

For me, aging presents a challenge to maintain coherence between my self-identity and my physical realities. Given that societal narratives often dictate that aging comes with inevitable decline and diminishment, I’m working to resist this narrative, aiming instead to embrace a more nuanced understanding of aging – seeking consonance, rather than dissociation, in how I see myself at this point in my life.

This journey toward consonance involves acknowledging the dual truths of aging: I can possess a sharp mind while also experiencing physical decline. Statements like "age is only a number" or "you're only as old as you feel" attempt to dismiss the physical realities of aging, often leading to unrealistic expectations and further internal conflict. Instead, embracing the full spectrum of aging involves recognising and accepting that one can have both a vibrant intellect and a body that may not perform as it once did. This duality doesn’t diminish my value or capability but rather paints a complete picture of the aging experience. It’s about harmonising my vibrant, youthful spirit with the wisdom and limitations that come with age, which fosters a more realistic and compassionate view of myself and others as they age.

Combating ageism requires a societal shift in how we view and treat older individuals. It involves dismantling stereotypes that equate aging with obsolescence and recognising the continued contributions and vitality of older adults. This change begins with acknowledging the validity of older individuals' experiences and perceptions, appreciating the richness they bring to our communities.

Ultimately, the goal is to create a world where aging is seen not as a decline but as a continuation of growth and contribution.

Everything Everywhere All At Once

Sun, 16 Jun 2024 19:15:00 GMT

Embracing Our Unique Passions

Each day we're bombarded with information, and it's easy to feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of issues demanding our attention — from climate change to social justice, economic disparities to mental health. The vast number of issues that clamour for our attention reminds me of the title of a movie: Everything Everywhere All At Once.

In the midst of the noise, it's important to remember that we don't have to shoulder the burden of every issue simultaneously. The key lies in choosing our one thing — something we are deeply passionate about — and dedicating our energy and voice to it. As we do, ripples of influence form that inspire and encourage others to engage with their own passions.

When we insist that other people should care about the same issues we do, we often encounter resistance. Criticising others for not seeing what we see or for not talking about the issues we find crucial doesn't necessarily make them change their viewpoint. More often than not, it makes them defensive, causing them to double down on their existing perspectives.

I've seen too many social media posts hijacked by people with agendas, taking space and energy away from completely legitimate concerns. As we focus on articulating why our chosen issue matters to us — by sharing our story, our passion, and our reasons for caring — those who resonate with our message will hear us and feel inspired to join the conversation. Authenticity and genuine enthusiasm are far more compelling than coercion.

Each of us can become a catalyst for change by channelling our energy into what truly matters to us. Whether it's advocating for mental health awareness, supporting local businesses, volunteering at a homeless shelter, supporting refugees, or protesting wars and genocide, our individual efforts can collectively contribute to a better world. The beauty of this approach is that it respects the diversity of human experience and acknowledges that every issue is important to someone.

Engaging with our chosen passion also allows us to develop expertise and a deeper understanding of the issue. This, in turn, makes our advocacy more effective. When we speak from a place of knowledge and personal experience, our message is more likely to resonate with others. Over time, our dedicated efforts can attract like-minded individuals, creating a community of advocates who amplify each other's voices.

We can't expect to tackle every issue simultaneously, nor is it helpful to expect others to care as deeply for our passions as we do. Through our collective efforts, by focusing on what we care about, we can address a multitude of concerns.

Choose your one thing.

Care about it deeply.

Talk about it passionately.

We Can't See Past Our Own Blindspots

Sun, 09 Jun 2024 19:15:00 GMT

The Importance of Acknowledging Our Limited Perspectives

I became acutely aware of my own blind spots through a comment on one of my YouTube shorts. In that short, I discussed the concept of "enough" — how much work we cram into a day and the relentless pace we drive ourselves. One comment stood out: "What a privileged perspective. We're all out here just trying to survive." This remark hit home, making me realize how deeply entrenched I was in my own perspective. When I made that video, I was speaking solely from my personal experiences as an older woman, still pushing myself to achieve as I did 20 years ago. This mindset is neither appropriate nor beneficial at my stage in life.

The commenter's viewpoint was equally valid. Many people don't have the luxury to decide when enough is enough because their day-to-day existence is a struggle for survival. My blind spot was glaringly exposed — I had failed to consider the vast array of experiences outside my own.

Another stark example of not seeing past one's blind spots arose from a LinkedIn post. A woman criticized OpenAI and News Corp Australia for perpetuating patriarchal and non-diverse perspectives, particularly noting their all-white, all-male boards. She emphasized the achievements of women in STEM, AI, and cybersecurity fields. Most of the comments on her post were from women highlighting other accomplished women, reinforcing the need for greater representation.

However, one older white man commented, suggesting the use of his clips discussing patriarchy in male-dominated workplaces. Although his intentions seemed supportive, he inadvertently centred his perspectives and achievements in a conversation meant to uplift women. He did not recognize that, as an older white male, his voice was not what this particular discussion needed. His blind spot prevented him from seeing that his expertise, while valuable, was not the focal point of this conversation.

In both scenarios, my own as an older white woman and his as an older white man, we exhibited significant blind spots. My perspective in the YouTube video was valid and necessary for those who needed to hear it, but it was limited. Similarly, his resources and commitment to dismantling patriarchy are essential, but his timing and understanding were off. We both brought valuable insights but failed to recognize when to step back and let other voices take centre stage.

Our blind spots are shaped by our unconscious biases and experiences. They influence how we view the world and interact with it. Often, we are unable to see past these blind spots until someone else points them out. The key is to be open to these revelations and willing to adjust our perspectives accordingly.

Understanding and acknowledging our blind spots is crucial in creating more inclusive and empathetic dialogues. We must strive to listen actively and understand the diverse experiences of others. Only then can we truly contribute to meaningful change and support each other's journeys authentically. Recognizing our blind spots doesn't diminish our perspectives but rather enriches our understanding and ability to connect with others. In this way, we grow not just as individuals but as a collective striving towards a more inclusive world.

Inviting Connection

Sun, 02 Jun 2024 20:00:00 GMT

The Power of Perspective in Meaningful Dialogue

After a recent presentation, something deeply thought-provoking happened that gave me pause to think on my understanding of communication and human connection. As I stood before the audience, a member posed a question, rich with specific details, that immediately resonated with me. It was one of those moments where you can feel the weight of the inquiry, sensing its importance and the depth of thought behind it. I began to weave my response, feeling confident in my perspective, when, quite unexpectedly, another voice broke in, offering a challenge to my viewpoint.

The challenge was not just a dissenting opinion; it was a call to reflect and consider. As I listened to the new perspective, I acknowledged its validity, recognising that this was an opportunity for growth. For me, this exchange was not about right or wrong, but rather about expanding our horizons. Even as I stood firm in my original perspective, I found myself appreciating the nuance of this differing viewpoint.

As the session drew to a close, I was left in a state of reflection. The interplay of perspectives had been a powerful reminder of a fundamental truth about communication: challenging another's perspective often implies a binary of right and wrong. This dichotomy can be limiting, creating barriers rather than bridges. When we challenge, we assert dominance; we impose our worldview upon another. This approach, while sometimes necessary, can stifle dialogue and hinder the rich exchange of ideas.

Conversely, inviting someone to consider another viewpoint is an act of humility and respect. It acknowledges the validity of their perspective while gently offering an alternative lens through which to view the situation. This invitation fosters a collaborative atmosphere where ideas can flourish, and understanding can deepen. It's an approach that nurtures connection and cultivates a space where everyone feels heard and valued.

As humans, our default mode is more often challenging than inviting. We are conditioned to defend our beliefs and assert our opinions, seeking affirmation of our correctness. Yet, in doing so, we miss the profound opportunity to connect on a deeper level. We miss the chance to truly see through the eyes of another, to walk in their shoes, and to understand the world from their vantage point.

This experience has inspired me to consciously shift my approach. Instead of challenging, I aim to invite. I seek to engage in conversations that are not about winning or losing but about exploring and expanding. When we approach discussions with an open heart and mind, we unlock the potential for genuine understanding and empathy.

Our world not only feels divided, it is divided. So, fostering connections is more important than ever. By inviting others to share their viewpoints and considering them with an open mind, we create a tapestry of shared human experience. We build bridges of understanding, one conversation at a time.

I carry this lesson with me, seeking to invite rather than challenge. It is a practice with foundations in respect. It holds the power to transform interactions and, little by little, our world.

Swimming Beyond Unconscious Bias

Sun, 26 May 2024 20:00:00 GMT

Embracing the Journey from Fish to Frog

When I first delved into the intricacies and depths of unconscious bias, I stumbled upon an old Chinese proverb that profoundly resonated with me: "A fish is the last one to know what water is." This metaphor painted a vivid picture in my mind—a little fish swimming upstream, completely oblivious to the water surrounding it. To the fish, water wasn't just a substance; it was its entire world, providing oxygen, sustenance, and safety. Similarly, unconscious biases flow through our brains, shaping our perceptions, attitudes, words, actions, and relationships.

Explaining this concept using the fish metaphor struck a chord with many in presentations I gave. Unconscious biases are elusive, often lurking beneath the surface of our awareness. While we may not perceive them directly, we witness their effects in societal issues like racism, ageism, sexism, and discrimination. Confronting our biases can be uncomfortable; it requires acknowledging their existence and taking responsibility for their impact. I've found it helpful to liken ourselves not just to fish but to tadpoles. Tadpoles start their lives immersed in water, reliant on it for survival. As they change from tadpole to frog, they develop the ability to live both in water and on land. Similarly, becoming aware of our biases allows us to transition from solely existing within the confines of unconscious influence to embracing a more conscious, intentional way of living.

Becoming aware of our biases doesn't mean eradicating them entirely; rather, it entails recognising their presence and choosing which ones align with our values and beliefs. Just as the frog leaves behind its aquatic habitat but retains a link with its former environment, we can acknowledge our biases while actively working to mitigate their negative effects.

Choosing to be frogs means embracing our capacity for growth and adaptation. It means acknowledging the biases that have shaped us and making a conscious decision to transcend them. Like the frog venturing onto land, we can explore new ways of thinking, interacting, and existing in the world.

Living as frogs allows us to break free from the constraints of unconscious bias and live more authentically. By consciously examining our beliefs and behaviours, we can cultivate empathy, understanding, and inclusivity in our interactions with others. Rather than being passive recipients of bias, we become active participants in creating a more equitable and compassionate society. In the journey from fish to frog, we discover the power of self-awareness and intentional living. We learn to navigate the waters of our biases with mindfulness and compassion, forging a path towards greater understanding and unity. So let us embrace our inner frogs, daring to leap beyond the confines of unconscious bias and into the boundless expanse of possibility.

Navigating the Mind's Maze

Sun, 19 May 2024 20:00:00 GMT

The Dance Between Fast and Slow Thinking

In Daniel Kahneman's thought-provoking book, "Thinking, Fast and Slow," he delves into the intricacies of human cognition, highlighting the dichotomy between our fast and slow thinking processes. It's fascinating how these two modes of thinking shape our perceptions, decisions, and ultimately, our lives. Fast thinking, or System 1 as Kahneman calls it, is our intuitive, instinctive mode of thought. It's the rapid-fire judgments we make in the blink of an eye, often based on past experiences and subconscious biases. System 1 operates effortlessly, almost like a reflex, guiding us through everyday encounters with remarkable speed. It's our go-to when we need to make quick assessments or react swiftly to what's happening around us.

On the other hand, slow thinking, or System 2, is our more deliberate, analytical mode of thought. It's the part of our brain that kicks in when we pause to ponder, deliberate, and weigh options. System 2 requires cognitive effort; it's the conscious processing that occurs when we take a step back to consider information more thoroughly.

Understanding the interplay between these two systems is crucial, as it sheds light on the biases that influence our decision-making processes. While System 1 serves us well in many situations, allowing us to navigate the world efficiently, it can also lead us astray. Our reliance on quick judgments based on superficial cues can perpetuate stereotypes, fuel prejudice, and cloud our perceptions of reality.

Consider how our biases might colour our interactions with others. If we've had negative experiences with certain groups or individuals in the past, System 1 may unconsciously taint our perceptions of similar encounters in the future. We may find ourselves making snap judgments about people based on superficial traits like race, gender, or appearance, without giving them a fair chance to prove themselves.

This phenomenon isn't just limited to personal interactions; it permeates our professional lives as well. In the workplace, for example, snap judgments based on past experiences can influence hiring decisions, team dynamics, and performance evaluations. Without consciously engaging our slow thinking processes to challenge these biases, we risk perpetuating systemic inequalities and overlooking valuable contributions from diverse perspectives.

So, how do we navigate this cognitive landscape more effectively? Awareness is key. By acknowledging the existence of both fast and slow thinking processes within ourselves, we can strive to strike a balance between intuition and deliberation. We can learn to pause, reflect, and challenge our initial impressions, allowing space for more nuanced understanding and empathy to emerge.

In essence, Kahneman's insights serve to wake us up from the slumber of unconscious bias. By fostering a culture of mindfulness and critical reflection in our personal and professional spheres we can help mitigate the impact of unconscious biases. By encouraging open dialogue, embracing diversity, and valuing differing viewpoints, we create environments where fast thinking tendencies are tempered by thoughtful consideration and genuine understanding.

Shattering Illusions

Sun, 12 May 2024 20:00:00 GMT

Unravelling the Parallel Worlds of Bias and Logical Thought

Roger J. Davies once described unconscious bias as a parallel universe coexisting with our rational and logical thought. This notion struck me profoundly, akin to discovering a hidden dimension beyond the veneer of our conscious awareness. We often pride ourselves on our objectivity, our adherence to high standards, our rationality. Yet, Davies suggests, beneath this façade lies an intricate web of biases operating surreptitiously, much like a parallel world intersecting with our reality.

The concept of a parallel world immediately evokes imagery from "The Matrix," where Neo uncovers the illusory nature of his reality. Neo's perception of the world is shattered when he realises he has been living in a simulated construct. Similarly, Davies contends that our belief in the sole dominion of rationality and logic is an illusion—one we cling to fervently. We exist in a state of blissful ignorance, unaware of the biases shaping our thoughts, actions, and perceptions.

Becoming familiar with biases mirrors Neo's awakening after taking the blue pill. Suddenly, the veils of illusion are lifted, revealing the intricate workings of our minds. We confront the unsettling reality that our consciousness is not solely governed by rationality but is entwined with deeply ingrained biases formed over a lifetime. These biases stem from myriad sources—family, society, media, education—seeping into our psyche unnoticed, a silent infiltration.

Acknowledging the existence of these biases is the first step towards deeper freedom as we confront the uncomfortable truth that we are not immune to prejudice, stereotyping, or preconceived ideas. Yet, this realisation is not cause for despair but an opportunity for growth and transformation. Just as Neo embraces his newfound awareness to challenge the confines of the matrix, so we can move beyond the limitations imposed by our biases. Awareness grants us agency—the power to dismantle outdated modes of thinking and cultivate a more inclusive worldview. We are no longer passive recipients of societal conditioning but active participants in shaping our perceptions and behaviours. By probing our biases, we align our thoughts with our values, fostering empathy, understanding, and genuine connection.

However, the journey towards bias awareness is not without its challenges. It requires humility, introspection, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. Yet, the rewards far outweigh the discomfort. As we navigate the parallel worlds of bias and rationality, we gain a deeper understanding of ourselves and the intricate tapestry of human cognition.

In essence, Davies' metaphor invites us to shatter the illusions that cloak our consciousness, revealing the complex interplay between bias and rational thought. By embracing this duality, we cultivate a more nuanced understanding of ourselves and the world around us. We transcend the limitations of our conditioning, forging a path towards greater authenticity, empathy, and interconnectedness. Let's dare to peel back the layers of illusion and confront our biases with humility and grace, for in the depths of awareness lies the key to genuine transformation.

Embracing the Paradox

Sun, 05 May 2024 20:00:00 GMT

Navigating Unconscious Bias and Values

In the intricate tapestry of human cognition, lies a fascinating paradox—one that often eludes our conscious awareness but profoundly influences our perceptions, decisions, and interactions. Sigal Barsade, a former management professor at the University of Pennsylvania, eloquently sheds light on this paradox, noting that "You can be the most consciously unbiased, progressive thinker and still have unconscious biases that come from our culture and things you experienced as a child, and they don't necessarily align with your beliefs." At first glance, it may seem contradictory to believe in and uphold strong principles while simultaneously harbouring unconscious biases. Yet, as Barsade points out, these two facets of our psyche operate in tandem, often diverging and converging in unexpected ways. Our conscious mind, guided by our principles and beliefs, serves as our moral compass. Meanwhile, lurking beneath the surface, lie the remnants of our past—the ingrained biases, shaped by childhood experiences, societal messaging, and cultural norms.

This revelation offers both hope and enlightenment. It dispels the notion of moral absolutism, acknowledging the complexity of human cognition and the inherent duality of our nature. We are not merely creatures of unwavering virtue or irredeemable prejudice; rather, we are beings suspended between two realms, navigating the delicate balance between conscious intent and subconscious influence.

Understanding this paradox is liberating. It empowers us to unravel the intricacies of our own minds, peeling back the layers of conditioning and societal indoctrination to reveal the core of our authentic selves. By recognising the coexistence of our values and biases, we transcend the confines of self-delusion and embrace a more nuanced perspective of our humanity.

However, the journey towards self-awareness is not without its challenges. It requires a willingness to confront the uncomfortable truths lurking within the recesses of our minds, to interrogate our beliefs and behaviours with real honesty. Yet, it is only through this introspection that we can begin to dismantle the barriers erected by unconscious bias and forge genuine connections based on mutual understanding and empathy.

More than this, acknowledging our biases does not diminish the validity of our values, nor does it condemn us to moral bankruptcy. On the contrary, it invites us to engage in a profound act of self-reflection, to discern whether our actions align with the principles we hold dear or are unwittingly influenced by hidden prejudices.

As we look deeper within, we must do so with both compassion and curiosity, recognising that growth often emerges from discomfort and uncertainty. By embracing the paradox of our humanity, we transcend the limitations of binary thinking and embrace the richness of our complex and often complicated identities.

In the end, it is not our biases that define us but rather our willingness to confront them with courage and integrity. Armed with self-awareness and a commitment to authenticity, we navigate the intricate dance between conscious values and unconscious biases, forging a path towards greater understanding, empathy, and connection.

Can I still be sexist even if love the women in my life?

Tue, 30 Apr 2024 19:00:00 GMT

The short answer is: yes!

This week let's explore two other illicit biases that people sense are really wrong: sexism and ageism.

Just as my racial heritage is assigned at birth, so is gender - largely on the basis of visible sexual organs and is also outside the control of the individual at that time. Across the globe, across cultures, and across time, gendered norms of behaviour and roles have developed with those born male having privileged places over those born female, especially in terms of power, influence and decision-making.

While people know that there is a shared humanity between males and females, generations and millennia of tradition and training have ensured that there is an imbalance in power between males and females, with females being deemed less worthy or capable than their male counterparts. This perceived lack of worth plays itself out across workplaces and boardrooms, sporting fields and academia, across science and the arts. This over-riding of the recognition of shared humanity by the power imbalance resulting from gendered roles and norms may also explain why males who transition to female are viewed as somehow having betrayed their gender by 'going over to the other side'.

When accusations of sexism are levelled at males, a common response is that they could not possibly be sexist because they are married to a woman or have daughters. A similar argument is raised with regard to racism – that somehow racism doesn't exist when a person is married to a person of a different race or has friends from varied racial groups. Adjacency to – that is, being in a close relationship with - those who are a different race or gender does not automatically mean that racism and sexism doesn't exist within these relationships. It is this possibility of holding deep-seated biased attitudes towards even those we care about – let alone those we work with or pass in the street - that causes people to resist, often strenuously, any charges of racism or sexism.

Now, to the peculiarly 21st century problem of ageism.

As populations become top-heavy with those born post-World War II ageism has become an issue. The Baby Boomer explosion of the 50s and 60s - a response to the fear and scarcity of the war years - heralded educational reform, rapid technological progress and the loosening of gendered norms. However, later generations view Boomers as people who failed to take action environmentally and who are to be blamed for the current poor state of the natural world. Where past generations respected the aged among them as vessels of wisdom and knowledge that could be passed down to the next generation – an attitude still strong within indigenous cultures – western society deems aging as an event to be delayed as long as possible.

While ageing is a common experience for people, it isn't often viewed as the gift that it is - not everyone gets the opportunity to age. It is easy to simply denigrate those who are ageing while ignoring the reality that getting older is a common human experience. This shared human experience of growing older is overshadowed by the largely negative connotation attached to ageing. These negative perceptions then become the basis for judgement about the worth of those who are older. This can happen even while individuals hold close to their heart those within their family who are older, such as grandparents.

Racism, sexism and ageism are common experiences of the disparity between illicit biases and the shared value of being human.

Why do we hate racism?

Tue, 23 Apr 2024 19:00:00 GMT

Why do we hate racism?

Because it goes against our understanding of a shared humanity.

Pursuing a PhD by research is by its very nature an academic exercise. However, it is far more than that for me. At my core I seek to right injustices and build equity and inclusion. Many illicit biases - in terms of being prohibited, forbidden or outside societal norms - however, actively support injustice and inequity, and they run counter to the shared values that people build their lives on. There are three common illicit biases that people don't want to associate themselves with – racism, sexism and ageism – which are based solely on aspects of being human that are completely outside our control.

I cannot control the genetic coding that is my racial heritage. Nor can I control the gender that was assigned to me at birth, governed by the particular arrangement of chromosomes – although people can change genders through medical intervention as adults. And people have absolutely no control over the moment in time in which they physically emerged into the world, marking their birth date and so their age. Over the next couple of weeks, I'll unpack why it is that people find the illicit biases of racism, sexism and ageism particularly abhorrent.

First, let's take a closer look at racism.

People cognitively acknowledge that they and others have no control over the racial group into which they were born. However, the tribalism connected with race - a tribalism that kept people groups separate and safe for generations when physical survival meant staying close to the tribe - leads to an 'us vs them' mentality that deems 'us' as right and 'them' as wrong, 'us' as in and 'them' as out, 'us' to be trusted and 'them' to distrust. Once this separation along racial lines became established and ingrained in the thinking within a particular racial group it's a fairly easy step to attribute behaviours and attitudes to those outside the group that run counter to the values that the tribe holds.

While the values of a shared humanity remain – such as the need to be safe, to have a home, to have loving relationships and be involved in meaningful work - the specific values of the rightness of the tribe are stronger. This is, in part, because this sense of rightness of the tribe is deeply embedded in the thinking of those within the tribe. And it's when these embedded attitudes are challenged - often merely by the taunt of racism - that such an accusation is vehemently denied. This is because there is an implied understanding that shared humanity should trump tribalism.

Subconsciously people know they should value the humanness of those who are different to them, but they value more highly those who are like them. It's this internal conflict between a shared humanity and tribalistic outlooks that results in passionate denials of racism at both personal and group levels.

As we begin to understand why we hold implicit biases, and why they spark such a feeling of defensiveness, we can begin to make choices about these biases – to continue to hold onto them or to intentionally work to ensure that they don't impact the relationships we have with other people.

Why do that?

Tue, 16 Apr 2024 19:00:00 GMT

It's about helping people understand themselves better.

In 2012, on a tiny tropical island in the Pacific, 35km south of the equator, I was confronted for the first time by my latent racist bias and my own white privilege.

Having lived for more than 5 decades in largely white Australia, I was working with The Salvation Army in the off-shore processing centre on Nauru – working alongside Pacific islanders and refugees from the Middle East, Sri Lanka and Asia, hearing a multitude of different languages and looking after the faith needs of a variety of faith groups (Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Zoroastrian). And the messaging I'd received as a child that difference was a threat, that it was somehow wrong, and that white people had the right way of viewing the world was seriously challenged. Not only was I able to reflect on what I'd observed in my own attitudes and behaviour, as well as those of other white ex-pats on the island, my reflections were confirmed when I talked with Fatima, who headed up the Salvo Nauruan team about the dismissive way in which the Nauruans were spoken to, how their advice was ignored, and how a very real sense of superiority was communicated. Fatima merely replied "We know that about you guys, but we just accept it."

For the first time, I understood that I had biases that impacted the decisions I made and the relationships I had. And I felt ashamed of these attitudes that did not align with how I saw myself as someone who was inclusive and valued connection. On returning to Australia, I wrote an honours dissertation evaluating Australia's response to asylum seekers and refugees using the ethics of Isaiah – and looked at the biases that are inherent in white Australian culture (you can read it here). The experience on Nauru and writing the honours thesis were pivotal in shifting the course of the last third of my life as I moved away from church-based ministry into establishing a speaking and consulting business which, over time, has focussed on unconscious bias.

At the end of unconscious bias presentations there is always at least one person in the room who pushed back against what I said, declaring that they weren't racist or sexist or ageist, that they did not have any kind of biases. I recognised that shame was one of the driving forces for the resistance and pushback against exploring our biases and so creating change. It was this recurrent observation – both my own and that of others who worked in the coaching and consulting space with whom I shared my observations - coupled with a seemingly random question from my business coach regarding goals that set the stage for moving into PhD research.

In all the work I do in the speaking and consulting space, my goal is to normalise the experience of illicit bias – those that are prohibited, forbidden or outside societal norms - as part of the way we all think and by so doing to mitigate the felt response of guilt and shame that arises. More than that, my goal in undertaking research into the intersection of bias and shame is to make a difference in how people understand themselves and their relationships to others. My research is more than an academic exercise - it is an attempt to bring understanding to the interplay of illicit biases that all people hold and the shame that is felt when those biases, that do not align with the values that are held dear, are unearthed.

Embracing Authentic Confidence

Tue, 09 Apr 2024 19:00:00 GMT

Breaking Through Gendered Expectations

Studies show an equality in levels of confidence between men and women, but the reality seems to be quite different. I've often heard a refrain from women: "I want to be more confident." This sentiment - at odds with statistical studies - prompts a deeper inquiry into how confidence is manifested. Are men and women truly on equal footing in this domain, or are there underlying factors at play?

It's not a matter of sheer confidence levels but rather how that confidence is expressed. Men, historically occupying leadership roles, have sculpted a paradigm where assertiveness, directness, and even emotional displays are celebrated. The image of a hand pounding the table or a victorious arm raised high symbolizes confidence in its quintessential form.

However, women navigating these spaces encounter a double bind. When they emulate traditional expressions of confidence—assertive, direct, or emotionally charged—they risk being labelled as "bossy" or "aggressive." The very qualities applauded in men become stumbling blocks for women, painting their confidence in a harsher light.

Conversely, women often possess nuanced leadership styles characterized by vulnerability and empathy. Their approach may be quieter, their influence more subtle. Yet, this quieter confidence is frequently overshadowed by societal expectations favouring louder, more assertive demonstrations.

This begs the question: Why must confidence conform to a singular mold? Great leaders throughout history—both male and female—have showcased diverse styles. From the resolute leadership of Angela Merkel to the empathetic governance of Jacinda Ardern, there's no one-size-fits-all approach to leadership.

True confidence transcends societal norms. It's rooted in self-awareness, authenticity, and a deep trust in one's abilities. Florence Nightingale didn't need to roar from the mountaintops to lead; her quiet determination spoke volumes.

So, women: trust in your own voice. Embrace your confidence, whether it's a bold proclamation or a soft whisper. Confidence is not about conforming to expectations but about embracing our individuality. Whether you lead from the frontlines or influence from behind, your style is valid, your voice essential.

Whether your confidence roars or whispers, know this—you are enough, just as you are. Trust in your voice, trust in your vision, and lead with the unwavering certainty that comes from embracing your authentic self.

Embracing Authentic Leadership

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 18:00:00 GMT

A Journey of Power for Women

For years, I grappled with a sense of inadequacy in my leadership style. I believed it wasn't strong enough, assertive enough, or fitting into the mold society deemed as 'normal'. But the truth wasn't that my leadership style lacked merit; it was that I lacked role models who resonated with my experience as a woman in leadership. Growing up in an environment where women were expected to be silent spectators rather than trailblazers, I struggled to find my place.

The prevailing notion was that men's leadership styles were the gold standard, while women were relegated to subordinate roles, always under the shadow of male authority. Even the few women in leadership positions often felt compelled to adopt a more masculine approach, which felt incongruent and stifling to me.

As I matured, I came to understand that men and women lead differently, and that's perfectly okay. Women bring unique strengths to the table—empathy, intuition, and compassion—that have long been undervalued in traditional leadership paradigms. Instead of conforming to a narrow definition of leadership, it's time to celebrate the diversity of leadership styles and perspectives.

It's disheartening to see women being told to be more confident, only to be criticized when they assert themselves. The truth is, women are confident, but their confidence manifests in nuanced and subtle ways that may not align with conventional expectations. This constant pressure to fit into predefined roles leaves many women feeling inadequate and undervalued in professional settings.

Moreover, women's natural empathy and compassion are often seen as liabilities rather than assets in the workplace. However, these qualities are precisely what make women effective leaders, capable of fostering inclusive cultures and driving meaningful change.

Recognising the need for a shift in how we perceive and nurture female leadership, I am excited to announce a two-day masterclass in Melbourne designed specifically for women leaders. This masterclass will delve into four key areas of leadership: navigating change, managing conflict, enhancing communication, and creating culture.

In addition, I will introduce a unique leadership model, the Pyramid of Authentic Leadership, tailored for women to lead authentically and confidently. This model embraces women's innate strengths and values, providing a framework for success that honours individuality and diversity. Whether you're a seasoned executive or aspiring leader, this masterclass offers invaluable insights and practical tools to elevate your leadership journey.

Embracing the Transformative Trilogy of Easter

Sun, 24 Mar 2024 18:00:00 GMT

Easter is a testament to the transformative power of love,

the sanctity of waiting, and the boundless hope found in resurrection.

In the bustling landscape of 21st century life, the emphasis often lies on individual experiences. However, the essence of life truly flourishes within community. As millions of people around the globe approach Easter there are lessons to be drawn out of the Biblical narrative that are useful regardless of our faith stance. As we delve into the depths of Easter's significance in 2024, let's reflect on the trilogy of days—Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Day—to unearth the profound truths that can shape our communal and personal narratives.

Good Friday beckons us to the sacred act of kenosis—the self-emptying—that the crucifixion of Jesus speaks of. In giving himself up to death, being caught between the opposing forces of Rome and its power, and the Jewish Sanhedrin with their traditions to uphold, Jesus' recorded words to the women who wept at his death were ones that sought to bring comfort. In the unravelling of privileges and the stripping away of rights, Jesus willingly embraced vulnerability for the sake of others. Somehow, Jesus held out a beacon of hope in the midst of death. Reflecting on his death we are encouraged to release our own expectations of how life 'should' be, and by relinquishing the demands we place on life and others, we create space for genuine connection.

On Holy Saturday, we find ourselves crossing a threshold, in a liminal space where waiting and uncertainty intertwine. This is a day of profound introspection, where we can confront our own sense of alienation and long for new beginnings. Saturday is a day of waiting, of grappling with the tension between death faced and new life not yet embraced. This day beckons us to sit with the discomfort of uncertainty and the ache of unfulfilled promises. Within this sacred pause, we are invited to embrace the transformative power of waiting, trusting in the promise of resurrection that is just beyond the horizon.

Finally, Easter Day dawns—a day of resurrection. In the resurrection, we witness the reshaping of the future. Death, once deemed futile, becomes the portal to liberation and the anticipation of humankind's potential. Easter challenges us to live an upside-down life—one that gives more than it keeps. Resurrection can take many forms—renewing a relationship that has been fractured, finding health again after a long illness, moving to a new neighbourhood, stepping into that new role or job, expanding our circle of friends. Easter Day speaks to us of the world that is full of possibility and potential, merely waiting for us to reach out, step forward and embrace.

In the tapestry of Easter's narrative, there is an intricate interplay between individual revelation and communal experience. It is within the embrace of community that the individual encounters we have with the divine (however you define that) find their fullest expression. So, as we explore the depths of Easter's mystery, let's carry with us the profound truths that have been unveiled—a testament to the transformative power of love, the sanctity of waiting, and the boundless hope found in resurrection.

Unravelling Narratives

Sun, 17 Mar 2024 18:00:00 GMT

The Serpent, Pandora, and the Blame Game

As I've been reflecting on ancient myths and the narratives that have woven themselves into the fabric of our culture, I find myself drawn to the symbolism of the serpent. In many ancient civilizations, the serpent was a powerful symbol, representing fertility, divine power, protection, and even the path to spiritual enlightenment. However, as I delve into these narratives, I can't help but notice a troubling trend, particularly in the biblical story of the Garden of Eden.

The serpent, once a symbol of feminine energy and wisdom, takes a sinister turn in the Garden of Eden narrative. It becomes the agent of opposition to God, using deceitful whispers to lead Eve astray. The consequence? Adam and Eve are cast out of paradise, burdened with curses that seem to lay blame squarely on their backs.

This narrative, echoed in various forms across cultures, has given rise to the idea that women are temptresses, untrustworthy, and inherently deceitful. Pair this with the Greek myth of Pandora, the first human woman, entrusted with a box containing all the world's evils. Despite warnings, her curiosity prevails, releasing a cascade of troubles upon the world, leaving only hope at the bottom of the box.

Combine these two powerful narratives, and a troubling overarching theme emerges: women can't be trusted; they are the source of all evil. The weight of this narrative has persisted throughout Western culture, shaping perceptions and influencing attitudes towards women. But here's the paradox — while women are portrayed as the culprits, history tells a different story.

Men, throughout history, have been the perpetrators of countless evils — genocide, nuclear war, famine, and the misuse of land. The irony is stark. The narrative points fingers at women, yet it is men who have unleashed the majority of these horrors upon the world. It raises a profound question: has this ingrained narrative subtly granted men a sense of innocence, a belief that they can act with impunity because, after all, it's not their fault? Consider the atrocities committed by men — in the realms of war, violence, and abuse. The narrative's undercurrent seems to absolve them of guilt, placing the blame squarely on women. This dynamic, ingrained in our cultural psyche, contributes to a distorted power structure and a sense of entitlement.

Victim-blaming, too, finds its roots in these narratives. When a woman falls victim to violence or assault, society often questions her choices — what was she wearing, had she been drinking, why was she alone? It's a subtle reinforcement of the age-old belief that women, in some way, are responsible for the evils that befall them.

This narrative, perpetuated through generations, may also explain why some cultures historically restricted women's education. A curious woman, according to these myths, could spell disaster. The fear of curiosity, fuelled by the belief that women are inherently prone to mischief, has had lasting consequences.

As we navigate the complexities of gender dynamics, it's crucial to challenge these deep-seated narratives. We must recognize that blaming women for the world's ills is a distortion of reality. It's time to acknowledge that true empowerment comes not from perpetuating myths but from dismantling them. Let us strive for a world where curiosity is celebrated, where blame is not heaped upon a gender, and where the responsibility for our collective actions is shared by all.

So, let this be a call to action — a call to question, to challenge, and to rewrite the narratives that no longer serve us. It's time to unravel the threads of blame and weave a new tapestry that embraces equality, understanding, and the shared responsibility of creating a better world for all.

Another Way to Lead

Sun, 10 Mar 2024 18:00:00 GMT

The Pyramid of Authentic Leadership

In the realm of leadership, women often find themselves navigating through a landscape where the norms and expectations are set by a different mold. But there exists within them a deep-rooted understanding that there is another path to leadership, one that embraces authenticity and challenges conventional notions. I invite you to explore with me the four key aspects of leadership that I've observed to be pivotal for women who dare to lead authentically.

1. Bias: Uncovering what lies beneath.

As I reminisced about my initial days in Nauru, surrounded by diverse cultures, I discovered an unconscious bias rooted in my upbringing in a predominantly white Australia. Bias, the first layer of the Pyramid of Authentic Leadership, is the inclination to favor specific groups or ideas, shaped by our upbringing and cultural influences. It operates in the realm of "fast thinking," affecting our decisions and relationships. Acknowledging our biases is the first step towards authentic leadership, fostering awareness and paving the way for growth.

2. Shame: A Catalyst for Self-Reflection

The second side of the pyramid brings us to shame, an intense and often concealed emotion. Shame, as defined by Brené Brown, signals a breach of values, leading us to believe we are unworthy of acceptance. Instead of shying away from shame, we can view it as a powerful ally. By identifying the values underlying shame, we gain the opportunity to either reaffirm or reassess them, allowing us to discard outdated values that no longer serve our growth.

3. Vulnerability: The Strength in Authenticity

Contrary to popular belief, vulnerability is not about airing every secret or expressing unbridled emotions. Authentic vulnerability involves being aware of one's emotions, owning personal narratives, and selectively sharing them. Vulnerability is a key strength for women leaders as it builds connections and relationships. By sharing their authentic journeys, leaders can inspire and foster a sense of unity among their teams, ultimately enhancing trust and confidence.

4. Values: The Solid Foundation

At the base of the Pyramid of Authentic Leadership lies values—principles or standards that guide behaviour and judgment. Identifying our core values is crucial for staying true to ourselves in the face of external expectations. Courage, creativity, and connection are my core values, providing a stable foundation. Meg Selig's suggestions for identifying values include exploring admired individuals, reflecting on workplace role models, and observing personal triggers, all of which contribute to a deeper understanding of our core values.

Embracing the Pyramid: A Strategy for Growth

The Pyramid of Authentic Leadership is not just a theoretical construct; it's a practical strategy for personal and professional growth. By acknowledging biases, using shame as a guide for self-reflection, embracing vulnerability, and staying true to our values, we can create a leadership style that resonates with authenticity and inclusivity. This pyramid is not just for women; it's a universal framework for anyone aspiring to lead with authenticity and impact.

The journey towards authentic leadership involves a continuous process of self-discovery, growth, and a commitment to fostering genuine connections. As we navigate the Pyramid of Authentic Leadership, we contribute to a collective shift in leadership paradigms, creating a world where diversity is celebrated, vulnerability is valued, and leaders inspire through their genuine and authentic selves.

Reclaiming International Women's Day

Sun, 03 Mar 2024 18:00:00 GMT

A Call for Diversity, Equity, and Authenticity

As International Women's Day approaches, I find myself in a reflective and somewhat conflicted state of mind. On the surface, this day is a beautiful celebration of the accomplishments and potential of women worldwide. It shines a necessary spotlight on the ongoing struggles for equality and justice that women face in all corners of the globe. However, beneath the surface lies a disheartening reality – the commercialisation and lack of inclusivity that have hijacked the essence of this day.

It saddens me to see International Women's Day being exploited by profit-driven companies, who prioritise their own agendas over the true spirit of the day. Instead of a genuine celebration of womanhood and a call for gender equity, it has become a marketing opportunity for corporations. We see brands using feminism as a trend rather than a movement, diluting its significance and co-opting its message for profit.

Moreover, as a white woman, I cannot ignore the glaring lack of diversity in many International Women's Day events. Too often, panels and discussions are dominated by voices that reflect only a small fraction of the female experience. Women of colour, LGBTQ+ women, immigrant women, and other marginalised groups are sidelined, their stories and perspectives overlooked.

I recall being part of a panel where diversity was sorely lacking. Despite being honoured to speak, I couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy knowing that our panel did not represent the rich tapestry of womanhood of my area of Melbourne. It was a missed opportunity to hear from women with vastly different life experiences and cultural backgrounds.

This realisation has led me to reconsider my involvement in International Women's Day events. I refuse to contribute to an echo chamber where only voices similar to mine are amplified. Instead, I yearn for diversity, authenticity, and inclusivity. I want to hear from women whose stories challenge my own understanding of the world, whose perspectives broaden my horizons and deepen my empathy.

Furthermore, the expectation for women to speak for free – especially on International Women's Day - is a stark reminder of the devaluation of women's labour and expertise. While men are often compensated for their time and knowledge, women are expected to be grateful for the opportunity to speak. This disparity underscores the systemic inequalities that persist in our society.

So, what can we do to reclaim International Women's Day? Firstly, we must prioritise diversity and inclusion in all aspects of its observance – from panel discussions to keynote speakers. We must amplify the voices of marginalised women and create space for their stories to be heard. Secondly, we must recognise the value of women's labour and expertise by ensuring fair compensation for their contributions. Women's work should not be exploited or undervalued, but rather celebrated and remunerated equitably. Finally, let us remember that the fight for gender equality extends far beyond a single day of recognition. It requires ongoing commitment and action to dismantle systems that oppress and create a more just and inclusive world.

This International Women's Day let's embrace diversity, equity, and authenticity in real and practical ways and celebrate the strength, resilience, and beauty of all women.

The Three Voices of Women

Thu, 29 Feb 2024 18:00:00 GMT

Rage, Wisdom, and Encouragement

As I listen to the multifaceted voices of women echoing through time and space, I'm struck by the diversity of their tones, messages, and intentions. These voices form a tapestry of experiences, perspectives, and aspirations, each contributing to the ongoing narrative of gender equality and the power of women. Among these voices, I discern three distinct but complementary themes: rage, wisdom, and encouragement.

The first voice resounds with fury against the patriarchal structures that perpetuate oppression and inequality. These women are the torchbearers of activism, challenging societal norms and demanding justice with fervent determination. They stand on the shoulders of their predecessors, the suffragettes and civil rights activists, who fought tirelessly against injustice, often at great personal risk. Their anger is a catalyst for change, igniting movements and toppling barriers in its wake.

Yet, amidst the clamour of rage, another voice emerges – one of wisdom and reflection. These are the voices of older women, seasoned by life's experiences and tempered by the passage of time. Their words carry the weight of history, offering insights gleaned from decades of navigating a world rife with obstacles and inequalities. With a blend of strength and gentleness, they extend an invitation to dialogue, bridging divides and fostering understanding. They remind us of the importance of equilibrium, of working together towards common goals, and of the inherent value of every voice in the conversation.

And then there are the voices of encouragement, like mine. We are the cheerleaders, the allies, the ones who believe in the untapped potential of every woman. Our mission is to uplift and inspire, to remind women of their inherent worth, power and resilience. We recognise that the journey towards equality is daunting, but we also know that it is achievable – one step, one voice at a time. Through our words and actions, we seek to build a community of support and solidarity, where women can find strength in unity and courage in company with others.

Each of these voices plays a vital role in the struggle for gender equality and equity. The voices of rage fuel the fires of revolution, challenging the status quo and demanding change. The voices of wisdom offer guidance and perspective, drawing from the lessons of the past to shape a better future. And the voices of encouragement inspire hope and resilience, reminding us of the power we hold within ourselves to effect change.

But it's not enough for these voices to exist in isolation. True progress requires collaboration, empathy, and solidarity. We need the fiery passion of activism, tempered by the wisdom of experience and uplifted by the encouragement of community. Together, we can amplify our voices and magnify our impact, creating a world where every woman is valued, respected, and empowered to fulfill her potential – and every voice heard.

So let us embrace the diversity of women's voices, recognising that each brings its own unique power to the table. Let us listen, learn, and lift each other up, knowing that our strength lies in our unity. And let us continue to raise our voices in solidarity, until the echoes of equality reverberate throughout the world.

Focusing My Voice

Thu, 22 Feb 2024 18:00:00 GMT

Navigating the Allure of Versatility

In a world that often celebrates specialisation, I've always found joy in being an all-rounder. From my proficiency in spoken and written language to my love for the logic of mathematics and the patterns in numbers, I have revelled in the diversity of my interests and talents. Whether it was scoring strikes in 10-pin bowling or embracing the tranquillity of a swim, physical activity has been a constant companion throughout my life.

However, the allure of versatility comes with its own set of challenges. The temptation to spread my focus rather than narrowing it down can be overpowering. As someone who has explored various hobbies—from scrapbooking and embroidery to photography—I found my true calling in writing. But, like many all-rounders, the desire to explore different realms of interest persists. It's easy to succumb to the temptation of dabbling in numerous areas instead of homing in on my true strengths. Finding my voice and effectively utilising it is a journey of self-discovery.

I've discovered that, to be an effective communicator, I must channel my voice into one or, at most, two areas. Staying in my lane, as the saying goes, became a mantra for intentional and impactful communication. As an intelligent woman with diverse interests in world affairs and insights, the temptation to speak on a myriad of topics is strong. However, I recognise that if I want to make a meaningful impact, I must streamline my focus. This has led me to concentrate on the subjects of unconscious bias and the power of women.

In earlier years, when I delved into the unconscious bias space, I faced attempts to pigeonhole me into the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) field. While these topics intersect to a certain extent, my true lane is unconscious bias—a realm that encompasses every individual on the planet. It goes beyond the DEI space by examining biases across diverse human experiences. Similarly, my focus on the power of women isn't solely about challenging patriarchal systems or addressing gender inequities. Instead, my emphasis lies in showing women how to tap into their own strength and use it in ways that align with their values and priorities.

Over time, I've learned the profound truth in the phrase "stay in your lane." To have a genuine impact, I must resist the pressure to champion every cause and instead concentrate on the areas that resonate with me deeply. While I possess the ability to speak on a multitude of topics, I choose to focus my voice where I can contribute with power, insight, and grace.

Embracing versatility is a gift, but navigating the temptation to spread focus too thin is an art. By intentionally choosing my areas of impact and staying true to my passions, I've found a meaningful way to use my voice to contribute to the conversations around unconscious bias and the power of women.

Finding My Voice

Thu, 15 Feb 2024 18:00:00 GMT

A Journey of Self-Discovery and Power

As I reflect on a chapter of my life from many years ago, a time when my then-husband confessed his infidelity, I am struck by the stark contrast between the person I was then and the woman I have become. In those days, my voice was merely an echo of the expectations placed upon me by society, upbringing, and the norms I had internalised since childhood.

If I could transport the strength and conviction I possess now back to that moment, the narrative would have been vastly different. The pain and betrayal would still have cut deep, but I would have shown my former husband the door without hesitation, protecting the sanctity of our home and the well-being of our youngest son.

Back then, my voice was shaped by the expectation to accommodate, to submerge my own needs and values beneath the weight of societal expectations. I was devastated, yet when my ex-husband urged me to keep the revelation hushed until he had spoken to our church pastor, I obediently followed his directive. It wasn't in my nature then to confront and demand accountability. My voice was not my own; it echoed the notes of others, harmonizing with the values I had been taught.

Looking back, I realise that my ex-husband's modus operandi was to bury issues, hoping they would vanish with time. Reflecting on the situation now, it's clear that waiting for him to take the initiative was futile. I had to raise the issues myself and force his hand. My voice back then lacked the strength and self-assuredness it holds today.

My younger self believed she had to play small, in the idea that her voice held little value. And I owe her kindness and compassion because she simply didn't know any better. She hadn't been taught to stand up for herself, to assert her rights, or to speak her truth. The societal narrative prescribed submissiveness, quietness, and downplaying her values.

Even if I had possessed my current strength, I might still have desired reconciliation, but with a condition: my ex-husband would only be welcome back if he figured out why he strayed. "I don't know why I did it" wouldn't have sufficed. The imperative was for him to delve into his own psyche and understand the roots of his actions.

In speaking up and eventually telling my husband I was leaving, I was stepping into my power for the very first time. It was a leap into the unknown, a daunting journey into an uncertain future. Yet, even with a shaky voice and uncertainty, I spoke the truth—the truth that was essential for my life. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I see that every voice, no matter how small or wavering, is significant. Today, I stand on a larger platform, aware that there are countless women whose voices are stifled, who have been conditioned to play small.

Whether our voices are soft or resonate loudly, we can speak our truth. In shaping the world of the 21st century, we must recognise the value, validity, and necessity of our voices. It is through these voices that we can bring about real change.

Embracing the Power of My Voice

Sun, 04 Feb 2024 18:00:00 GMT

A Journey to Self-Trust

As a woman of definite ideas, articulation, and confidence, building my speaking business seemed like a natural progression. However, a hidden struggle emerged—one that echoed the messaging of my past. Growing up in churches, I was inadvertently taught to trust the voices of men, with women's opinions relegated to the background. This upbringing, coupled with the concept of female submission, created a deep-seated belief that my own strong ideas were somehow wrong.

Even though I relished debates and arguing my point, the challenge arose when it came to listening to others. I found myself doubting my perspective, especially when expressed strongly by individuals I respected. The echo of societal conditioning lingered, making me question whether my voice was truly valid. The journey to trusting my own voice has involved unlearning these ingrained beliefs. Breaking free from the notion that holding disparate viewpoints is acceptable allowed me to realise the strength in my opinions. I learned that it's okay to disagree, to hold a different opinion, and to do so with conviction.

The patriarchal structures in my early life attempted to confine me to a specific lane, reinforcing the idea that my voice should be muffled. However, I've come to understand that standing firm in my beliefs, even when they differ from others, is not only acceptable but crucial to my authenticity. Expressing my viewpoints, I've encountered dismissive reactions, sometimes disguised as jokes. Men have quipped that my disagreement meant I was wrong. However, I've learned to stand my ground, asserting that my perspective is valid and deserving of respect. Being okay with being dismissed or mocked has become a liberating realisation. Not everyone will resonate with my perspective, and that's perfectly fine. It's a revelation that has allowed me to turn away from those who don't align with those who truly need to hear my voice.

We've all been conditioned to doubt the validity of our voices, to question the truth, power, and strength within them. Yet, every voice is valid, shaped by a lifetime of experiences, learnings, and facing life's challenges. My perspective is my truth, and it holds value, even if others choose to dismiss it. While I continue to learn from others, staying grounded in my beliefs remains paramount. My voice not only helps me make sense of my life but also sets the direction for where I want to go. It is both a personal journey and a responsibility to share my insights, preventing others from making the same mistakes and offering them a different lens through which to view life.

Trusting my voice is a lifelong journey—one that involves constant self-reflection and growth. It's about embracing the power within, recognising the validity of my unique perspective, and fostering a space where diverse voices can coexist harmoniously.

Navigating the Interplay

Sun, 28 Jan 2024 18:00:00 GMT

...of Bias, Shame, and Values.

For several years now, I've been captivated by the intricate connection between bias and shame. Bias, an unconscious or subconscious cognitive function, shapes our thoughts and influences our decision-making processes. On the other hand, shame, is a universal emotion which arises when we cross invisible lines or breach socially acceptable boundaries which are often tied to our deeply held values.

Sigal Barsade, a former management professor at the University of Pennsylvania, astutely observed that biases don't always align with our beliefs. This dissonance can create internal conflicts due to the coexistence of inclusive values with hidden biases. I came face to face with this incongruity in my own life.

Having grown up in a predominantly white Australia, I uncovered a latent racist bias within myself when working on Nauru. Interacting with individuals from vastly different cultures, languages, and faith backgrounds than my own revealed a subconscious sense of superiority and fear. This realisation triggered a profound sense of shame, as this bias contradicted the inclusive values I held dear.

This prompted me to delve deeper into the intersection of bias and shame, where I discovered that our values act as the missing link. Values, whether personal, communal, or cultural, play a crucial role in shaping our beliefs and ideals. They straddle the emotional and cognitive realms, being both cognitive statements and elicitors of strong emotions like pride and passion.

When we feel shame, it often signals a breach of our values. This breach can lead us to examine the biases we may have absorbed, often in childhood, and bring them into the light of awareness. Further, discovering a bias, such as my own racial bias, can evoke shame, urging us to reflect on the values we aim to uphold.

This interplay creates a circular pattern. Shame signals a breached value, which prompts us to identify underlying biases. The shame around recognising these biases then propels us back to our values, encouraging us to strengthen or even form new ones. In my own journey, the shame I felt about my racist bias led me to flip a narrative on its head. I transformed the perception of difference from a threat to an asset, forging a new value that celebrates diversity.

Understanding this intricate relationship between bias, shame, and values empowers us to navigate our internal landscapes with greater self-awareness. It encourages us to question ourselves when we feel shame and explore the values we may have unknowingly breached. By doing so, we pave the way for personal growth, a deepening understanding of who we are and a fostering a more inclusive and compassionate way of being in the world.

The Long Game

Sun, 21 Jan 2024 18:00:00 GMT

Embracing the Twists and Turns of a Woman's Career Journey

As I scrolled through my social media feed recently, a friend's post caught my eye. It resonated deeply with me, sparking thoughts about my own career journey. The idea my friend shared was powerful — that a woman's career is a long game, marked by interruptions, twists, and turns, especially for those who choose to have a family.

Reflecting on my life, I realised how much this concept aligned with my own experiences. Growing up, I was ingrained with the belief that perfection was the only acceptable outcome. Any perceived failure, even a minor one like scoring 18 out of 20 on a math test at the age of nine, would leave me devastated. This pursuit of perfection followed me into adulthood, where I constantly compared myself to others.

My friend's post highlighted the unique challenges women face in their careers, particularly when raising a family. The reality is that our professional journeys often take unexpected detours during the child-rearing years. Whether leaving the workforce entirely or taking a temporary break, women often find themselves returning to a changed landscape — missed promotions, altered priorities, and a shifted professional mindset.

I can identify three distinct 'acts' in my life. The first act was my role as an educator and a young mother, focusing on being a stay-at-home mom while occasionally engaging in casual teaching. The second act unfolded after my midlife marriage break-up, leading me to join The Salvation Army and pursue a leadership role in the church. This chapter involved becoming an ordained minister and delving into theological studies.

Now, in the third act of my life, I am building a speaking business and pursuing my passion for writing. Despite occasional thoughts of why I hadn't started certain endeavours earlier, my friend's post reminded me that a woman's career is indeed a long game. The depth and breadth of my experiences — from teaching to motherhood to ministry — have shaped who I am today.

In my sixties, I am actively building a speaking career and authoring books, embracing the wisdom and insight garnered from my diverse life experiences. Despite occasional self-doubt, I now understand that my journey has been a process of continuous growth, with each act contributing to the woman I've become.

I've come to appreciate that success is not defined by a linear trajectory but by the richness of the journey itself. My career path has been far from a straight line, and yet, the culmination of my experiences has equipped me with a profound understanding of life, people, and their stories. Rather than viewing myself as a failure, I now recognise the value of my unique journey. I still strive for excellence, but I've learned to resist the urge to compare myself to others. Instead, I focus on the long game — the unfolding narrative that has shaped my understanding of unconscious bias and the power of women.

As I explore this third act of my life, I am grateful for the wisdom gained from playing the long game. I am hopeful for the years ahead, armed with the knowledge that the best is yet to come as I bring my life's experiences into the words I share through my books and speaking engagements. I embrace the long game, excited to see what the next 30 years of this extraordinary journey will unfold.

The Transformative Power of One

Sun, 14 Jan 2024 18:00:00 GMT

We only get one life.

As the final credits rolled on the last movie I watched in 2023, "One Life" starring Anthony Hopkins, I found myself submerged in a sea of conflicting emotions. The film, a retelling of the remarkable story of Nicholas Winter during World War Two, left an indelible mark on my heart.

Nicholas Winter, portrayed by Anthony Hopkins, undertook a monumental task during a dark period in history. His mission: to rescue over 600 children from Poland before they could be transported to prison camps. The narrative unfolded as Winter faced the daunting challenge of finding families in England willing to take in refugee children, raising funds for their journey, and navigating the perilous route from Poland to safety in England.

Initially, anger gripped me as I watched the unfolding tragedy. The injustice of these innocent children being torn from their families, separated by the arbitrary boundaries imposed by one man – Adolf Hitler – fuelled my rage. The film vividly depicted the cruelty of a single individual who wielded the power to rip families apart and dictate the fate of those he deemed unworthy of life.

Yet, as the storyline progressed, a contrasting emotion emerged. Nicholas Winter, against all odds, emerged as the driving force behind the salvation of those 600 children. While Hitler had accomplices in his malevolent plan, Winter too had support, but he stood as the unwavering force that set the rescue mission into motion. His heart impelled him to act, fuelled by an intrinsic sense of duty and compassion.

A poignant moment in the film occurs when Nicholas Winter is invited onto a popular chat show, That's Life, in the late 1980s. The host acknowledges his extraordinary work and asks the audience a profound question: "Would anyone in this room who owes their life to Nicholas Winter please stand up?" In a powerful display, the entire audience rises. One man, against the tide of hatred, had saved not only 600 children but had a ripple effect, touching the lives of over 6000 individuals.

This revelation struck a chord within me, prompting reflections on the power of one individual to shape the course of history. While one man, driven by malevolence, can wreak havoc and perpetrate injustice, another, fuelled by compassion and a commitment to justice, can create safety and redemption.

The film's narrative echoes a childhood hymn learned in Sunday school, with the poignant line: "You in your small corner and I in mine." It serves as a reminder that each of us holds the potential to live that one life – capable of immense injustice or boundless compassion.

As I reflect on "One Life" and its portrayal of Nicholas Winter's extraordinary journey, I am compelled to choose my small corner wisely. I choose to be the person who stands for justice, compassion, and the transformative power of one individual's actions.

Unmasking Unconscious Bias

Sun, 07 Jan 2024 22:57:00 GMT

Celebrating Women's Leadership

In the latter half of 2023, Victoria witnessed a transition of power when the long-serving premier resigned, paving the way for his deputy, Jacinta Allen, to assume the role. Allen, a woman with decades of experience in Australian state politics, was elected by her party as the new premier. However, a dismissive comment in a recent conversation questioned the legitimacy of her position.

The remark, in response to a TV commentator noting that Allen is only the second woman to lead Victoria, suggested that she hadn't earned her position because she hadn't won an election. The implication was that she had the role handed to her, raising concerns about her qualifications and actual ability to lead. I find this sentiment troubling, especially as I've heard similar comments made about my own achievements – "She only got it by default." Such attitudes reflect an undercurrent of bias that often surfaces when women achieve leadership roles.

The argument presented against Allen is rooted in the misconception that winning an election is the sole measure of legitimacy in politics. In fact, in the Australian political system, individuals first run for a parliamentary seat and then, if successful, are chosen by their party to lead. This pathway is the same for both men and women, yet it seems criticism disproportionately targets female leaders.

The scepticism surrounding Allen's ascent brought to mind the 2002 Winter Olympics, specifically the speed skating event where Stephen Bradbury secured an unexpected gold medal. Celebrated for his resilience as the last skater standing after others had fallen, Bradbury's unorthodox victory was lauded. This begs the question: Why do we readily dismiss women's achievements when they don't conform to established norms, while simultaneously applauding men for breaking the mold?

The incident with Allen highlights a broader issue: the subtle, often unacknowledged bias against women in leadership roles. Even well-intentioned individuals may harbour unconscious beliefs that women somehow don't deserve to be in positions of power, and is even more marked for women of colour, migrants, refugees, disabled women, and older women. However, as we face and address these challenges, it's essential to recognise and celebrate the inherent power within women. Women's strength and resilience have been honed over generations of being underestimated and undervalued. The narrative that women must prove their worth more than their male counterparts must be dismantled. Women are powerful, not in spite of their struggles, but because of them.

The call to action is clear:

• Women - reject the lie that you are less deserving of leadership roles, stand in your power.

• And men – check your biases, especially in casual conversations where you may think it doesn't matter. It all matters.

The power of women lies within. It's time to unapologetically embrace it.

The Dichotomy of Head and Heart in Western Thought

Sun, 17 Dec 2023 19:00:00 GMT

Understanding the Interconnection Between Bias and Shame

In Western philosophy and psychology, there's a longstanding tradition of separating cognition (head) and emotion (heart). This approach creates a distinct division between cognitive and non-cognitive ways of knowing. Such separation not only shapes our understanding of knowledge but also influences our perception of human behaviour, especially in terms of gender roles and emotional expression.

One prominent aspect of this separation is how it manifests in societal expectations and stereotypes, particularly regarding gender. Women, for instance, have often been labelled as 'too emotional' and are accused of thinking with their heart rather than their head. This stereotype implies that emotional responses are less valid or reliable than logical ones. On the other hand, men are traditionally associated with cognitive, logical thinking, which is frequently held up as the norm or the 'correct' way to approach problem-solving and decision-making.

This dichotomy is not just a theoretical concept but has real-world implications. In my research into the intersection of bias and shame, I've found that the way we think (cognition) and the way we feel (emotion) are deeply intertwined. Our biases, which are cognitive processes, significantly shape our decisions and relationships. These biases often lead to creating boundaries, categorising people as 'in' or 'out' based on preconceived norms.

Moreover, when individuals become aware of their biases or when they step outside the societal norms, they often experience shame, an intense emotional response. This connection between cognitive processes (like bias) and emotional experiences (like shame) is frequently overlooked. It reveals a profound link between our thoughts and feelings, challenging the traditional separation of head and heart.

Recognising this interconnection is crucial for understanding human behaviour more holistically. It's not enough to categorise thoughts and emotions separately; we must acknowledge that they influence each other in complex and significant ways. This understanding can lead to more empathy and inclusivity, as it allows for a more nuanced view of why people think and behave the way they do.

This interconnectedness also suggests that the path to self-awareness and personal growth involves integrating our cognitive and emotional experiences. By understanding how our thoughts influence our emotions and vice versa, we can work towards becoming more whole as individuals. We start to see that we are not divided selves, split between rationality and emotion, but complex beings with the capacity for a wide range of interconnected experiences.

The traditional Western view of separating head and heart, cognition and emotion, does not fully capture the complexity of human experience. As we continue to explore the intersections of how we think and feel, our biases and our emotional responses such as shame, we can gain a deeper understanding of ourselves and others.

At the Crossroads of Bias and Shame

Sun, 10 Dec 2023 20:00:00 GMT

Deep down, women know they are powerful but...

they feel shame for having allowed their power to be stripped away.

In a world where patriarchal systems are predominant across various arenas such as faith, culture, business, science, sport, education, and academia, the impacts of these biases are deeply felt by women, especially those belonging to minority groups. These groups include minorities based on skin colour, age, disability, race, faith, language, or culture. For decades, I, like many others, was part of a conservative Christian tradition that urged women to adhere to a subservient role — to sit down, keep quiet, play small, not question, and accept the status quo. This experience reflects a broader societal narrative where patriarchal systems, favouring men, have deep roots, and women, conditioned by these biases, often struggle to recognise and challenge them.

The journey of women through these patriarchal landscapes is complex. Generations of messaging to "sit down, be quiet, and play small" have led many women to disconnect from their inherent power, fostering a trust deficit in their ability to wield this power effectively. Deep down, women know they are powerful, which paradoxically leads to a sense of shame, mostly unacknowledged. This shame stems from the realisation of allowing patriarchal biases, perpetuated both by men and women, to continue diminishing their connection to their power. Shame acts as a reminder of an internal boundary or a broken internal code, making women feel ashamed for having let their power slip away. This code may not be helpful, as it can be built on the foundation of patriarchal biases that do not really serve anyone. Additionally, women who openly breach the accepted codes often face shame from other women who adhere strictly to gender biases and norms.

However, there is a transformative potential in recognising and confronting this shame. Rather than letting it drive them into hiding, women can use it as a beacon to identify and confront the biases in their own lives. These biases, often disguised as thoughts like "I'm too old," "I'm too young," "I lack the skills," or "I've been out of the workforce for too long," can be acknowledged and owned. Recognising these biases allows women to decide whether to continue letting them shape their lives and futures. When shame is used to illuminate our biases, women can reconnect with their power, becoming the superheroes of their own lives.

This process of reconnection is not just about personal power but also about challenging and reshaping the societal norms that have long perpetuated gender inequalities. It's about acknowledging that while patriarchal systems have been the norm for millennia, they are not set in stone.

Women, by embracing their power and confronting internal and external biases, play a crucial role in building a more equitable and inclusive world. The journey from recognising the impact of patriarchy to reclaiming one's power is both deeply personal and profoundly collective. It requires introspection, courage, and the willingness to challenge long-standing norms. It's about women supporting each other in breaking the chains of traditional gender roles and biases, and collectively moving towards a society where equality is not just an ideal, but a lived reality. In so doing, they pave the way for future generations to live in a world less constrained by patriarchal norms.

The Value of Knowledge Beyond Textbooks

Sun, 03 Dec 2023 20:00:00 GMT

A Reflection on Lifelong Learning

A recent interaction sparked a thought-provoking reflection on the nature of knowledge and its value in our lives. A woman who reached out to me on social media, after being drawn to my profile, assumed that my knowledge was purely academic.

It's a misconception that the only valuable knowledge is academic or scientific – knowledge that is quantifiable and qualified. As an educator, I'm aware that education systems often reinforce this belief, prioritising formal learning over organic, experiential learning. There is, however, immense value in the latter.

Consider the "sitting with Nelly" method used in Australia in the early 1900s for training teachers. This approach involved apprenticeship, where trainee teachers – such as my grandmother - learned by observing and assisting experienced teachers in the classroom. They gained practical skills and insights without formal psychological training or academic instruction. This method underscores the significance of learning through observation and experience.

Women, in particular, embody the essence of this kind of knowledge acquisition. The skills and insights gained, for example, from motherhood and managing a household, often while juggling jobs, are profound. These experiences teach conflict resolution, collaboration, and management – skills not derived from textbooks but from the 'coal face' of life.

Historically, knowledge has been passed down orally, with written records being a relatively recent phenomenon. Indigenous cultures, for instance, continue to rely heavily on oral traditions to transmit knowledge. This form of knowledge transfer, though less formal, is rich in wisdom and depth. The workplace often undervalues such experiential knowledge, favouring academic credentials instead. While I appreciate and engage in academic learning myself, I recognise the immense worth of life lessons. The knowledge gained through personal struggles, observations of others, and self-reflection is invaluable.

Women, in particular, possess a unique "superpower" in this regard. The knowledge we acquire through living, reflecting, and learning from life is often overlooked or undervalued, sometimes even by the women themselves. It's crucial to acknowledge that this experiential knowledge is as valid as any academic learning.

It is important we broaden our perspective on what constitutes valuable knowledge. We need to appreciate and value knowledge from all sources – be it academic institutions, personal experiences, or the wisdom passed down through generations. By embracing this inclusive approach to learning, we can enrich our understanding and appreciation of the world and the diverse experiences of those within it.

Navigating the Stormy Seas of Conflict

Sun, 26 Nov 2023 19:00:00 GMT

Conflict is not inherently negative.

Conflict is an inevitable part of human interaction, be it in the workplace, among friends, or within romantic relationships. Most of us have a natural aversion to conflict. We strive for harmony and often choose to flee from confrontational situations. But avoiding conflict doesn't resolve it; it merely postpones the inevitable. So, how do we deal with conflict effectively, especially when opinions and ideologies clash head-on?

In my journey through personal and professional landscapes, I've identified four pivotal steps to manage conflict gracefully and constructively.

1. Listening with Empathy

Listening is an art that demands more than just hearing the words being spoken. It's about tuning into the other person's emotions, understanding their perspective, and grasping the essence of their argument. It's about setting aside our preconceptions and genuinely trying to understand where they are coming from. Often, conflicts stem from miscommunications and misunderstandings that could easily be avoided if we simply listened more attentively.

2. Maintaining Non-Defensiveness

The natural response to a perceived attack on our beliefs or opinions is defensiveness. However, this stance often escalates conflict instead of resolving it. Defensiveness can lead to a combative attitude, where the focus shifts from understanding to winning an argument. It's crucial to differentiate between standing firm in your beliefs and being defensively aggressive. Stay true to your viewpoint but remain open to discussion and different perspectives.

3. Engaging in Curious Inquiry

Asking questions can be a powerful tool in de-escalating conflict. It shows that you are interested in understanding the other person's viewpoint. Questions can uncover the underlying reasons for their beliefs and feelings. This step is not about interrogating but about showing genuine interest and seeking clarity. It's about creating a dialogue where both parties feel heard and understood.

4. Checking Personal Biases

We all view the world through the lens of our personal experiences, culture, and beliefs. These biases can unknowingly influence our reactions and interpretations in a conflict. Recognising and acknowledging our biases is crucial in dealing with conflict. It helps in understanding that there may be multiple valid perspectives to a situation. This awareness allows for more balanced and fair discussions.

Applying These Steps in Real-World Scenarios

In the workplace, for example, when stress levels are high, and diverse opinions collide, these steps can be the difference between a productive resolution and a damaging confrontation. During team discussions, actively listen, maintain an open stance, ask clarifying questions, and be aware of personal biases that might colour your interpretation.

In personal relationships, whether with friends or partners, these steps help in navigating through emotional minefields. Conflicts in these spheres are often laden with deep-seated emotions and long-standing issues. Active listening, non-defensiveness, curious inquiry, and bias-checking can pave the way for healthier and more meaningful interactions.

Conflict is not inherently negative. It can be a catalyst for growth, deeper understanding, and improved relationships, provided it's handled with maturity and empathy. By listening empathetically, remaining non-defensive, engaging in curious inquiry, and being aware of our biases, we can transform conflict from a dreaded encounter to an opportunity for growth and deeper connection.

Navigating Challenging Conversations in Times of Conflict and Diversity

Sun, 19 Nov 2023 19:00:00 GMT

Having challenging conversations is not just about the words we use,

but how we listen and interact with differing viewpoints.

We are surrounded by complex issues, from geopolitical conflicts like the Ukraine-Russia war and the Israel-Hamas hostilities to domestic debates such as Australia's 'Voice' referendum. These issues often trickle down into our workplaces, bringing a diversity of opinions and perspectives. This diversity, while enriching, can also lead to tensions if not navigated wisely. As someone who has observed and engaged in many such discussions, I've learned that having challenging conversations is not just about the words we use, but how we listen and interact with differing viewpoints.

There are four keys to having challenging conversations:

1. Hearing Differently

The first step in a challenging conversation is to listen with an awareness of our biases. We all interpret words through the lens of our experiences and viewpoints, which can skew our understanding of what others are trying to communicate. To hear differently means to consciously set aside these biases and try to understand the message from the speaker's perspective. This approach can reveal insights and meanings that we might have missed otherwise.

2. Listening More Deeply

Beyond just hearing the words, it's crucial to listen for the emotions and nuances in the conversation. This deeper level of listening involves empathy – putting ourselves in the other person's shoes and trying to understand their perspective. It's about detecting not just what is being said, but why it's being said and what emotions are driving those words.

3. Valuing Different Meanings

Every issue, whether it's a global conflict or a workplace disagreement, carries different meanings for different people. For instance, the conflict in the Middle East has different implications for Palestinians and Israelis. Similarly, in the Australian referendum, while 60% may have voted 'no' and 40% 'yes', each side had its reasons and interpretations. Recognizing and respecting these differing meanings is key to productive conversations. It's not about agreeing with every perspective but acknowledging that each viewpoint is valid and deserves consideration.

4. Shaping a New Narrative

The final step is perhaps the most challenging but also the most rewarding – creating a new narrative that encompasses all viewpoints. This doesn't mean forging a consensus on every point but rather finding common ground and mutual respect. It's about weaving together diverse opinions to form a cohesive, inclusive story that acknowledges and respects each person's perspective.

The Role of Respect and Empathy

Central to these four keys is a foundation of respect and empathy. When conversations, especially in the workplace, are approached with a genuine desire to understand and respect each other's viewpoints, the potential for conflict decreases, and the opportunity for growth and unity increases.

The Power of Diversity

Embracing diverse viewpoints doesn't just prevent conflict; it enriches our understanding and solutions. A team that can respectfully navigate challenging conversations is more innovative, adaptable, and ultimately more effective. In a world rife with complexities and differences, the ability to have respectful, challenging conversations is more important than ever. By hearing differently, listening more deeply, valuing diverse meanings, and shaping new narratives, we can turn potential conflicts into opportunities for understanding and collaboration. This approach doesn't just apply to global issues or national debates; it's equally relevant in our everyday interactions, particularly in the workplace. As we cultivate these skills, we not only improve our professional environments but also contribute to a more empathetic and understanding world.

Navigating the Cycles of Change

Sun, 12 Nov 2023 19:00:00 GMT

Embracing Authenticity and Courage in a Rapidly Evolving World

In today's fast-paced world, change is not just inevitable, it's always there.

From the nightly news flooding our living rooms with global events to the sweeping changes in our own backyards, we're constantly confronted with a world in flux. As an Australian, I've recently witnessed our government grapple with acknowledging Indigenous First Nations people in our constitution. Elsewhere, old feuds ignite new conflicts in the Middle East, while the ongoing tensions between Ukraine and Russia remind us of the fragility of international relations. Domestically, from AI transforming our workplaces to the ethical dilemmas facing banks and insurance companies, these shifts touch every aspect of our lives.

As an individual who has navigated substantial change over the years, I've come to realise that adapting isn't just about reacting to external forces. It's about understanding what holds us back and what propels us forward. I've identified five anchors that can inhibit our progress and their counterpart, sails, that can help us catch the wind of change.

1. Attachments vs. Connections: Often, we are held back by our attachments – to ideas, people, or material things that we can't let go of. However, when we shift our focus to connections – to people who can offer support, strength, and encouragement – we find ourselves buoyed by a community that enables progress.

2. Aversions vs. Courage: Change can be daunting, leading to aversions due to fear of the unknown or discomfort. Courage, however, gives us the power to confront these challenges head-on. It's about embracing the unknown and finding strength in vulnerability.

3. Compulsions vs. Choices: We sometimes feel compelled to follow certain paths, influenced by narratives in our heads or societal expectations. Recognising that we have choices, that we are the authors of our stories, can be liberating and allows us to steer our lives in directions that align with our values.

4. Inhibitions vs. Freedom: Inhibitions often keep us confined within self-imposed boundaries. Breaking free from these limitations and embracing our true potential can lead to a sense of freedom and the realisation that we have more control over our destinies than we might think.

5. Wrong Identifications vs. Authenticity: One of the biggest hurdles can be the identity we adopt based on others' perceptions. Shedding these misperceptions and tapping into our authenticity not only aligns us more closely with our true selves but also enhances our interactions with the world.

In facing change, it's crucial to recognise these anchors: attachments, aversions, compulsions, inhibitions, and wrong identifications. But more importantly, we must be willing to flip them, to see the other side – connections, courage, choices, freedom, and authenticity. This perspective shift can transform how we navigate the inevitable changes in our lives.

Privilege? What priviliege?

Sun, 05 Nov 2023 19:00:00 GMT

When we hear the word privilege,

we often add the word ‘white’ in front of it - white privilege.

In reflecting on the weeks leading up to the recent Voice Referendum here in Australia, and the way the majority of Australians voted, I have been struck by how much privilege was on display. When we hear the word privilege, we often add the word 'white' in front of it - white privilege. This concept is one that I have come to recognise and understand in the last decade but which I could not see for the first nearly six decades of my life because my privilege was invisible to me. That's the problem with privilege, it is invisible to those who have it but it glaringly obvious to those who do not. So let me unpack some examples of privilege I observed during the Referendum process – and it doesn't only involve those whose skin is the same colour as mine.

"I don't know enough about it so…"

The privilege of ignorance where because my ignorance will not impact me I can just vote to suit myself.

"It doesn't concern me directly."

The privilege to vote as we please on things that don't concern us rather than thinking enough of others to vote in their best regard.

"I'm more concerned about cost of living."

The cost-of-living crisis in Australia is real but this is magnified by the ongoing impacts of colonisation on indigenous peoples. Saying 'no' to people who are impacted not only by the things that impact us but also by issues that we do not experience is real privilege – regardless of our skin colour.

"I don't trust the politicians."

While there may be good reason to not trust politicians. However, using this as a reason to vote against something that would be of assistance to marginalized people in our country shows the privilege of choosing our dislike or distrust of a particular politician or a particular political party over and above the welfare and the lived experience of other human beings in our own country.

"I'm afraid I'll lose access to land and beaches."

Given the loss of land, language and heritage visited upon indigenous people since colonisation this displays the privilege that whiteness affords.

"I don't get special privileges since coming to Australia so why should they."

The privilege of judging the experiences of others solely through the lens of our own lives.

"Look at what's happening in Aboriginal communities. Let's fix those things first."

The privilege of looking only at the surface level rather than seeking the deeper generational causes that those of us who are not indigenous do not experience. This is the privilege of making judgements about people without acknowledging the part our history has played in their current circumstances.

"It's done. Now we can get on with life."

The privilege to choose not to think about the consequences of the Voice defeat.

I have privilege purely because of the colour of my skin. I can't change that.

But I can choose how I use my privilege – to aid those who do not share the same privileges I do.

Intelligent women need...

Sun, 29 Oct 2023 19:00:00 GMT

Challenging the "Intellectual Equal" Romance Trope:

Why Intelligent Women Don't Need Academically Equivalent Partners

Throughout my life, as an intelligent, articulate woman, I've consistently received a particular piece of advice regarding romantic relationships: find a partner who is either my intellectual equal or, preferably, someone who can further stretch my intellectual capacities. This suggestion, coming from both men and women, has remained unchanged from my youth to my older years. However, in both of my long-term relationships, I chose partners whose education didn't extend beyond high school. Interestingly, it wasn't a lack of education or a disparity in intelligence that led to the failure of my first relationship; other factors were at play.

This raises an important question: Why is such advice predominantly given to women, and not to their male counterparts?

It's not uncommon to observe pairings where an intellectually accomplished man is with a woman celebrated for attributes other than academic prowess. This is widely accepted, even normalised. Yet, when an intelligent woman is involved, there's a pervasive belief that she needs someone of equal or greater intellectual calibre. This notion, I believe, stems from outdated ideas that women need to look up to a man, and that a man should be the one to elevate a woman to a higher level of understanding or achievement.

I firmly challenge this idea.

An intelligent woman is fully capable of managing her own life, pursuing her intellectual interests, and choosing a partner based on criteria other than academic or intellectual compatibility. In my experience, seeking academic conversation isn't a priority in a life partner. The academic sphere where I interact provides ample opportunities for such discussions. My expectation from a life partner lies elsewhere.

This advice, perhaps inadvertently, reinforces the archaic belief that women are incomplete without a man to guide and inspire them. It disregards the autonomy and capability of women to determine their own needs and aspirations. Like their male counterparts, intelligent women know what they want, are aware of their potential, and pursue paths that align with their identity and interests. They don't require a man to validate the importance of their choices or to fill any perceived intellectual void. Moreover, the implication that a successful partnership hinges on equivalent educational levels is a narrow view that overlooks the richness of human relationships. Partnerships thrive on various factors like mutual respect, emotional support, shared values, and complementary strengths, which transcend academic achievements.

A life partnership is about more than just matching intellectual credentials. It's about building a life with someone who respects and supports your ambitions, shares your values, and complements your personality in ways that foster mutual growth and happiness. The focus should be on the quality of the relationship and the character of the individuals involved, rather than their diplomas.

It's time to discard the outdated notion that an intelligent woman needs a man of equal or superior intellect to lead or complete her.

Women, like men, are capable of shaping their destinies and choosing partners based on a broad spectrum of qualities that go beyond academic brilliance.

Unravelling the Lies about Powerful Women

Sun, 22 Oct 2023 19:00:00 GMT

Lie #4: when women have power, they inevitably wield it with deceit and manipulation.

As we journey through the fabric of narratives that shape our society, we've encountered numerous lies woven intricately into the tales we tell and the beliefs we carry. From the myth that women need awakening, often by a kiss from a man, to the notion that women in distress need rescuing from their towered prisons, we've unmasked the deep-seated biases embedded in our stories. We've tackled the lie suggesting that when women ascend to power, they become embodiments of cruelty. Today, we turn our focus to the fourth lie, a misconception just as entrenched and misleading: when women have power, they inevitably wield it with deceit and manipulation.

History and folklore offer a multitude of examples. Consider the cunning stepmother in "Cinderella" who schemes relentlessly to supplant Cinderella's position in her father's heart. Recall the malicious intentions of the stepmother in "Sleeping Beauty," using her power to eliminate Beauty, her perceived competition. Such narratives beg the question: Why, when powerful women are depicted, are they often portrayed as deceitful and manipulative?

At the core, this stereotype stems from a lack of trust in women's power.

By perpetuating a narrative where powerful women are underhanded and treacherous, society reinforces the dangerous message that women cannot be entrusted with authority and leadership. This is a grave disservice to both women and society at large.

True power, irrespective of gender, emanates from the heart. If the heart is sincere and virtuous, the power manifested will mirror those attributes. While there's a longstanding adage that "power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely," it's essential to challenge and perhaps even revise this narrative. Especially in the context of women, it's a tale spun with threads of bias.

The power inherent in women is not dominion over others but the 'power to'. It's the power to liberate, create, include, support, nurture, guide, and uplift. It's time we dispel these ingrained misconceptions and replace them with an authentic representation of female power.

Instead of cowering in the face of women's potential, we can applaud, cherish, and unreservedly trust it. It's paramount that women harness their innate, intuitive, and profound power. We can leave behind tales of deceit and manipulation and build narratives of equity and equality.

Women & Power: Debunking the Myth of Evil Influence

Sun, 15 Oct 2023 19:00:00 GMT

Let's address an insidious lie:

that when women achieve power, they become evil and cruel.

In this week's blog, we delve into a darker myth surrounding women and their power. We have already discussed the misleading notions that women need awakening or rescuing. Now, let's address a more insidious lie – the idea that when women achieve power, they become evil and cruel. You don't have to look far to see these tropes in pop culture.

Think of Cruella de Vil, the ice-cold leader in 'The Devil Wears Prada', the Wicked Queen in 'Sleeping Beauty', or Ursula in 'The Little Mermaid'. These fictional women wield significant power, and they direct it, more often than not, against other women. Beyond the spotlight shining on the heroine is a lurking, dark myth: that when women gain power, they can only wield it maliciously.

Why does the myth of the malevolent powerful woman persist?

It's as if society acknowledges women's potential for strength but simultaneously fears the nature of that strength. There's an underlying message that women with power are not to be trusted, as if ascending the power ladder morphs them into heartless entities. This myth isn't confined to fiction. 'The Devil Wears Prada' might be a story, but it mirrors real-world situations where corporate women are perceived as attaining their positions by metaphorically crushing others beneath their stiletto heels.

Yet, the truth starkly contrasts this narrative.

Women are, undoubtedly, powerful. When they occupy positions of power, their leadership often exudes strength, empathy, and compassion. Take, for instance, global leaders like Angela Merkel or Jacinda Ardern. Their periods of influence were marked by resilience, understanding, and inclusive growth.

It's crucial to dismantle the false narrative. Women – let's not shy away from our power, fearing we'll turn into the next on-screen villain. At the heart of every woman is an intrinsic, unparalleled, and unique power.

Let's recognise and celebrate this power without tainting it with unjust myths. Women need not fear their strength. Their power is their essence, and we need to place our trust in it.

Women, every day, all over the world, rescue themselves.

Sun, 08 Oct 2023 19:00:00 GMT

The Myth of Women Needing Rescuing: time to shatter the narrative

In our ongoing series examining the various myths and misconceptions surrounding women, the second lie we address is the age-old portrayal of women as damsels in distress. Picture the clichéd scene: a maiden, trapped in a tower, her flowing locks acting as the only bridge to the outside world, waiting for a prince to climb up and save her. This narrative, unfortunately, extends beyond fairy tales, permeating societal attitudes and expectations about women.

The irony of such portrayals is that women are often depicted as possessing an innate strength and power that intimidates and threatens the societal structures or antagonists in these tales. From the enchanting allure of sirens to the transformative abilities of witches, women in folklore have long been seen as potent figures. Yet, paradoxically, they are often caged, hidden, or reduced to subservient roles.

But why? Is it because of a fear of the depth of a woman's strength? The authenticity of her power? The narratives frequently depict this inherent power as something to be feared, hence the entrapment or victimisation. When a woman's aura or essence is intimidating or perceived as a threat, the instinctive reaction, it seems, is to confine and control. But let's debunk this: the idea that women are perpetually waiting, helpless, for someone to rescue them is not just outdated, it's erroneous. It might make for a great romantic tale, but reality paints a different picture.

Women, every day, all over the world, rescue themselves.

From escaping abusive relationships to shielding their families in wartime, from climbing corporate ladders to breaking the barriers in sports, the examples are endless. Women do not await salvation; they create it. Moreover, to truly thrive, women don't seek saviours; they seek partners. Partnerships built on mutual respect, equality, and shared goals are the cornerstones of modern relationships. Such relationships recognise and celebrate each individual's strength, with neither party playing the perpetual victim or rescuer.

Women - recognise your power. It's okay if that power feels threatening to some. Your strength, your essence, is not something to be locked away. No tower, no cage, and certainly no external entity should be allowed to confine or define you. And most crucially, understand that your value doesn't increase by being 'rescued.' To anyone currently navigating a challenging situation, I have personally lived through something similar - you have the capacity, the fortitude, and the power to rescue yourself. You are not a passive character in your story, waiting for external intervention.

You are the hero and the rescuer you've been waiting for.

Awakening the power within.

Sun, 01 Oct 2023 19:00:00 GMT

Debunking myths surrounding women's power and strength.

For countless generations, tales as old as time have been passed down, subtly but surely telling women a narrative that seeks to restrain and limit them. They've been told they are asleep, waiting for a gallant man to awaken their dormant power with a magical kiss. But this narrative is not only flawed, it's a deliberate deceit, and it's high time we correct it.

The story of the Sleeping Princess or the Sleeping Beauty, one of many, offers a particularly compelling case. This narrative paints women as helpless damsels, fallen victims to external malevolent forces, awaiting salvation. This salvation, however, is often portrayed in an intimate, almost sexual manner — the all-important kiss. The underlying message seems to be that a woman's worth and power are intrinsically linked to her sexuality, and more so, it can only be activated by a man. But what about the strength, intelligence, and resilience that a woman inherently possesses?

Many fairytales conveniently gloss over the fact that the heroines in these stories were already powerful and radiant before any mishap befalls them. It is precisely their radiance and strength that poses a threat to the antagonists. These women are, therefore, 'put to sleep,' a metaphorical way of saying their power is being suppressed. Take Sleeping Beauty, for instance. Even in her name, we recognise a superficial attribute, her "beauty." But she was so much more than that. She was magnetic, drawing in those around her with her energy and strength. She was powerful, not because of her physical appearance but because of her essence. But in the tale, her power and brilliance were seen as intimidating, leading to her forced slumber.

The narrative doesn't stop there. It further perpetuates the idea that powerful women, when not asleep or dormant, are inherently evil or manipulative – aka the Wicked Queen. This a conversation for another day, and underscores the falsehood that a woman's innate strength is something to be feared.

When Sleeping Beauty finally awakens, it is at the behest of a prince — implying that her return to power, her very agency, can only be reclaimed in partnership with a man. The tale, in its essence, communicates that a woman's power is permissible only within certain societal constructs. But here's the real truth: women have never been asleep. Women are alert, conscious, and alive to the world around them. The tales of slumber and rescues are mere fabrications, designed to mask the raw, unyielding strength women have always possessed.

Women...we don't need a prince, a kiss, or a fairytale ending to live out of our power and potential., nor do we require external validation to harness our inherent strength.

All we need is to remember, recognise, and reclaim the power that has always been ours. And as we do, we will change the world!

Who's holding the pen?

Thu, 28 Sep 2023 19:15:00 GMT

Rewriting Our Life's Story: Discovering and Reconnecting Our Power

One of the most transformative joys, and equally challenging endeavours, I have undertaken is to rewrite the story of my life.

Crafting a new narrative for ourselves is tantamount to refreshing our identity. Sometimes the shift is dramatic, sometimes subtle, but it's always a journey of self-discovery. As women, this journey often commences by learning to prioritise our needs, especially after years of placing others' needs above our own.

A crucial step that follows is recognising our true values. Distancing ourselves from societal and familial expectations and honing into our intrinsic beliefs and desires. Beyond this, we dive deeper to understand our innate motivations. Recognising unconscious biases can be unnerving, but it's pivotal. Our bodies sometimes send signals about these biases before our minds can pinpoint them. Such self-awareness leads us to the art of self-reflection – a silent, age-old practice. It's only after embracing these stages that we can re-evaluate our life's current narrative.

A quote from Harley Davidson's marketing team resonates deeply: "When you write the story of your life, don't let someone else hold the pen." Yet, many of us have unknowingly handed over our pens. Parents, faith communities, friends, partners, children – all, even with the best intentions, can inadvertently influence our stories. It's imperative we regain authorship, irrespective of our age.

To rewrite, we must introspect. Does our current story align with our identified values? If not, we envision a world where it does. What choices and relationships would support our true values? How would we feel if our life story deviated from our core beliefs?

For instance, one of my cherished values is connection. During my tenure on Nauru, confronting my latent racist biases and recognising my white privilege was humbling. Deep down, racism and white privilege advocate disconnection, contradicting my core belief. I revised my perspective, seeing diversity as an asset. Acknowledging differences and valuing them enriched my life and fostered genuine connections.

Each one of us can be the primary author of our life's narrative. Reflect upon your life's tales. Do they mirror your values? Do they fill you with pride or regret? Envision a world where your narrative aligns with your heart's desires. Seize your pen. Write your story, your truth.

Would you like to know more about how you can help your team be the best versions of themselves? Contact me using the form below to talk about workshop and speaking options for your next event, function or training day.

The harder, but better, journey is the one within.

Thu, 21 Sep 2023 19:30:00 GMT

The Subtle Art of Self-Reflection

From conversations with numerous women, it has become evident that self-reflection, though crucial, does not come effortlessly to everyone. Many women admit their fear to delve deep, apprehensive about what they might uncover. But based on experiences of my own and those others have shared with me, I can assure you, there are no monsters hiding within.

Certainly, you might stumble upon truths about yourself that unsettle you or that you hadn't realised. But these are not monsters, merely aspects of yourself awaiting acknowledgment and understanding. The beauty of self-reflection is the journey of truly knowing oneself. As we begin to decode our thought processes, decipher our choices, and discern the underpinnings of our decisions, a vast inner world unveils itself. Like the TARDIS, though the exterior seems unremarkable, the interior is boundless and wonderful.

I frequently describe women as superheroes in disguise because there's a magnitude within that often remains unseen. This depth emerges when a woman begins to practice self-reflection, which is about acknowledging the journey, the choices, and the emotions that bubble within. Such newfound self-awareness reveals a formidable, unique, and magnificent individual, often hidden behind societal barriers, masks, and preconceived expectations.

Over time, many of us, in an attempt to fulfil external expectations, overlook our own needs and desires. We mold our lives around other's values, often sidelining our own. But as we embark on this journey of self-discovery, identifying our values and cherishing our individual needs, we realise our uniqueness and the myriad of gifts that are ours. This realisation fosters a healthier, more wholesome version of ourselves.

Indeed, there might be facets we discover that necessitate introspection and change. However, this is a bit like gardening - to ensure flourishing growth, plants need to be pruned. Same with us, growth is stunted without an inner exploration and pruning. The most profound journey a woman can undertake is the inward one. If an event stirs an emotional upheaval within, pause, and reflect. Your emotions might be signalling something your conscious mind hasn't registered yet.

The idea of self-reflection isn't novel. Ancient philosophies and cultures have endorsed the significance of self-awareness for millennia. They believed that understanding oneself was among the most rewarding expeditions one could pursue. However, in modern times, amidst juggling responsibilities and trying to fulfil societal roles, women often relegate self-reflection to the backburner. But recognising our essence and understanding our motivations not only enhances personal growth but also empowers us in all our roles. This voyage of self-reflection unleashes creativity, individuality, and a splendour that often surpasses our own expectations.

While women might appear ordinary, much like the exterior of the TARDIS, there's a magnificent universe within, waiting to be discovered and cherished. It's a universe that promises growth, self-love, and an unsurpassed understanding of oneself.

Would you like your team to be able to tap more deeply into their unique power? Then my signature speech, Superheroes in Disguise, may be just right for your next function or event. Fill out the form below to find out more.

We reclaim agency as we understand what drives us.

Thu, 14 Sep 2023 19:30:00 GMT

The Power of Uncovering Our Unconscious Biases

For as long as I can remember, I've been intrigued by the underpinnings of human thought – the hidden narratives that shape our perspectives, decisions, and relationships. Initially, I labelled this inquisitiveness as an interest in 'backstories' - what were the behind-the-scenes events in a person's life that prompted them to think and act the way they do?

However, as my exploration deepened, I realised that I wasn't just studying personal histories. Instead, I was diving into the realm of biases, specifically, unconscious biases. These are the preconceived notions we unknowingly carry, which in turn influence our choices and behaviours. As children, our brains are impressionable. We absorb messages from our parents, teachers, religious institutions, and even sports teams about who to trust, who fits certain stereotypes, and what 'normal' looks like. Nobel Prize winner Daniel Kahneman terms this as our "quick thinking" – snap judgments we make without pausing for reflection.

Often, these biases emerge from protective instincts. Our parents, guardians, teachers, hoping to shield us, might have cautioned us about certain individuals or situations. Or perhaps, we've had a negative personal experience that leads us to generalise a particular group or idea. Yet, while these biases may have origins in well-intentioned advice or personal experiences, they can inadvertently narrow our worldview. We may become quick to dismiss people who differ from us, or ideas that don't align with our established beliefs. We risk surrounding ourselves with an echo chamber of likeminded individuals, depriving us of the rich tapestry of diverse thought and experiences.

My research has continually pointed towards one truth: Identifying and understanding our biases can profoundly enrich our lives. It allows us to remove the blinkers, broadening our horizons and opening ourselves to new experiences.

How do we unearth these biases?

First, tune into your body and emotions. Recognize cues like tension, anger, or fear. Then, ask probing questions. Why did you feel this way? What does it remind you of? This introspection often reveals ingrained narratives we might have unknowingly absorbed throughout our lives. The final, crucial step is naming the bias. I, for instance, discovered my own biases while working in Nauru amidst diverse cultures. Recognising and admitting my preconceived notions was the first step in my journey of growth and change.

To know one's biases is a powerful tool. Whether we're entrepreneurs, corporate employees, young, or old, biases accompany us everywhere. By understanding them, we can assess their relevance in our current lives and choose to either embrace or let go of them.

In the end, the quest to understand what drives us – our biases included – is an essential step to self-awareness and growth. By doing so, we reclaim the agency to decide if these drivers should continue to influence us or if they're relics best left in the past.

Interested in hearing more? Contact me about speaking options using the form below.

Values are the Essence of Feminine Power

Thu, 07 Sep 2023 19:15:00 GMT

By defining our values, we establish our stand in this world.

The second step in women rediscovering and reconnecting with their power is to identify their values. Often, values can seem like fleeting, intangible things. Companies proudly display their values in reception halls, but do individuals, particularly women, understand their own? I firmly believe that while women may share common values such as honesty, authenticity, courage, and genuineness, every woman also holds values distinct to her own heart.

Why is this self-reflection so essential for women? Because countless narratives, traditions, and societal enculturation dictates what women "should" value. For far too long, many have let their lives be shaped by the values of others, unknowingly sidelining their genuine desires.

I recall a time when, as a young woman, I yearned to travel and had decided not to consider marriage until at least 25. Yet, influenced by peer values, I married at 21. When later questioned how a different background might have influenced my choices, I quickly responded that academia would've been my pursuit. I realised my core values were learning, independence, travel, and the thrill of new experiences. I have distilled those to a personal trinity of values: courage, creativity, and connection.

While my courage has been lauded, I believe that sometimes bravery is the only option. Creativity finds its expression in my writing, a skill I cherish. Connection is about my engagement with people, be it through teaching, my time with the Salvation Army, or as a speaker and mentor.

But here's the thing: while many may resonate with my values, each woman has her own unique set, and that's perfectly okay. Recognising our values is a journey into the heart, soul, and very essence of our being. A woman who understands her values knows her true self, and that realisation is an immense source of power. By defining our values, we establish our stand in this world - it's akin to staking our territory, drawing lines in the sand, and making our powerful stand known.

If you're wondering where to start, the internet offers numerous lists to kickstart your introspective journey. Glance through, and you'll find some that speak directly to your soul. From there, refine them, zeroing in on those that truly define you. After all, understanding one's core values provides clarity, like distilling the essence of one's being.

So, to all women out there: Understand that recognising your unique values isn't about adhering to what society, family, or peers dictate. It's about your innermost beliefs and desires. Identify your values, stand firm on them, embrace them, and celebrate the powerful woman you are.

Want to talk about identifying your values? Fill in the form below and I'll be in touch.

Cherishing your needs is not an optional extra

Wed, 30 Aug 2023 21:48:00 GMT

Rediscovering Your Power: The Importance of Cherishing Your Needs

The most profound conversations I've had with women revolve around one central theme: rediscovering and reconnecting with their inherent power. The initial step in this process is to cherish our needs. I emphasize the term "cherish" because it denotes recognition of importance, a deep sense of value, something that we hold close to our heart.

Being a woman, and observing the diverse lives of many women, I've seen that cherishing personal needs is not usually on our to-do list. It's often superseded by the needs of our children, our partners, and those around us. It's communicated, sometimes subtly and other times overtly, that women's primary role is to cater to the requirements of others. This narrative can obscure our genuine needs, keeping them buried deep, often unexplored.

Think about it: as a mother, the need for sleep becomes a luxury. In a relationship, yearnings for support, encouragement, and affection become vital. Yet, beyond these apparent needs, each woman has unique emotional and spiritual needs crucial for her well-being.

For someone like me, words are not just a medium of expression. They are a source of power. Hearing words of encouragement and affection fills my cup. Interestingly, women who vocalise such desires are frequently labelled "needy." This derogatory term implies a state of weakness, which couldn't be farther from the truth. Our immense nurturing capability shouldn't spring from an empty reservoir.

Women have an innate power; it's not just about survival but thriving. Like the body, which needs more than just water and occasional food for optimal function, our emotional and mental well-being requires specific nourishments. These needs, though sometimes buried, are instinctively known to us. All we need is the space to reflect and identify them.

Ever felt an unexpected emotional surge? Or a physical symptom, perhaps a heavy feeling in the chest? These are cues, signals from within. It's our body and soul urging us to pause and introspect: What do I need right now? Which boundary is being overstepped? Recognising these triggers is our first step towards rediscovering and reconnecting with our power.

After that initial recognition, dig deeper. Ask questions like, "Why am I feeling this?" or "What past experiences have shaped this reaction?". By tracing back these emotions, we can uncover suppressed stories, perhaps from childhood, where our needs were overshadowed by others. Once recognised, we can rewrite these narratives, aligning them with our true selves.

Women - I'm calling you to action for yourself! Cherish your needs, not as an afterthought but as a priority. When you feel that emotional pull or physical sensation, take a step back. Reflect, identify, and rewrite your story. Hold your needs close to your heart and let them guide you towards rediscovering your authentic power. For in understanding and cherishing our needs, we unlock an unparalleled strength, allowing us to not just survive, but thrive.

Want to know more? Fill in the form below and I'll be in touch.

What blinkers are you wearing?

Thu, 24 Aug 2023 19:45:00 GMT

In my mentoring work with women, one of the most significant parts of our collaboration is examining why we form the relationships as we do and make the decisions we do. In the past few years, I have been incorporating my studies on unconscious bias into a women's mentoring program.

Women face many biases in the workplace, at home, and in society in general. Yet, it is crucial to acknowledge that women, too, harbour biases. Unconscious bias is not gendered, but simply part of being human. As women tap into, rediscover, and reconnect with their power, it is paramount that their own biases don't serve as hurdles they can't leap over or barriers confining them within preconceived norms and expectations.

Our biases and preconceptions often stem from societal, cultural, familial, or friendship influences, and it is easy to unknowingly adopt these mindsets as our own. Seemingly innocuous biases can have far-reaching effects. Here's a personal example: my new partner, whom I met online, is the same height as me, maybe I'm slightly taller. Historically, all the significant men in my life have been taller than me – father, brother, sons. My unconscious bias toward height could have cost me the most fulfilling relationship of my life. It was a minor prejudice around how tall my partner 'should' be, but it could have prevented something extraordinary.

Unconscious bias sets rules, both around minor things like ideal partner height, as well as more significant things we're taught as children, like who to trust and what's a good job. While many biases and preconceived ideas were designed to keep us safe, several just end up getting in our way, limiting our ability to explore new options or see beyond the immediate. Our biases often blinker us, making sure that we only see what's right in front of us and blocking out other equally valid but as-yet-unexplored possibilities.

In my mentoring, I guide women on a journey of exploration into their underlying biases and motivations. We delve into the elements that may be driving their lives, decision-making, and relationships. This inner work and self-reflection allow us to discern if these biases serve us, or if they can be replaced with new narratives and paradigms that better align with our individual paths.

It is crucial for us to understand our biases, confront them, and, when necessary, let go. Only then can we fully tap into our power, unencumbered by our own unconscious biases.

Whose rules?

Thu, 17 Aug 2023 20:00:00 GMT

The rules of the sandpit are changing.

The metaphor of the 'sandpit' has long been my description of institutional structures, encompassing organisations, companies, and corporations. Historically, these sandpits have been male-dominated spaces, with men setting and understanding the rules because they've been the principal players for millennia. Women have merely tinkered on the periphery, left to observe and learn.

Boys watch and emulate their fathers and other significant men in their lives, learning how to navigate the sandpit, absorbing the subtle art of networking long before it became a buzzword. They see firsthand how these connections yield benefits – job promotions, opportunities, and advancements.

However, over the last century, women have been infiltrating this sandpit, striving to learn and adapt to these alien rules, which are intrinsically contrary to their nature. Consequently, women have had to dress in manly attire (the tailored suit, dark colours and 'sensible' heels), ascend the corporate ladder ruthlessly, sometimes pushing others aside. These were the unwritten rules of the sandpit they wanted to play in. Yet, the rules they had to play by didn't always resonate with their instinctive nature.

I see a paradigm shift happening in our era. Women are pushing back against these pre-set rules, instead opting to create their own 'sandpits' and establish their own rules – rules that are inclusive, supportive, and nurturing. Women are finding their voices, harnessing their power, and connecting with like-minded individuals, creating a significant impact – both online and in-person.

Indeed, the rise of female networking and supportive communities in the digital realm is significant. Women are using the power of connection to advance their causes, just as men have been doing for centuries. They're innovating, founding new enterprises, and shifting the narrative, doing things differently from the established norm.

Hashtags like #hype women and quotes about the damning consequences of women not supporting each other are surfacing. Yet, not all women fit the hype mould or support every stance taken by their peers. Not every woman will agree with every outlook or stance, but what's crucial is the creation of spaces – sandpits, if you will – where women feel and use their power.

Women are no longer content to be on the periphery or to be constrained by rules that do not work for them. We are playing by our rules in our sandpits, and in doing so, we're reshaping the world – one grain of sand at a time.

Unmasking the People Pleaser

Thu, 10 Aug 2023 20:00:00 GMT

Everyday tasks like sending invoices to clients typically don't provoke existential dilemmas. Yet recently, a small error made during such an ordinary task turned into a profound moment of self-discovery for me. In my line of work, invoicing clients online is a standard affair. Unfortunately, as with any process, there's always room for human error. And, sure enough, I'd sent an invoice with minor inaccuracies. The corrections were quickly done, but the episode had rattled me far beyond the screen of my computer.

You see, I've lived a significant part of my life as a people-pleaser. This identity was so ingrained in me that I viewed it as a natural part of who I was. But as I've grown older, I've started reflecting more, and I realised that the roots of this behaviour traced back to my childhood, steeped in expectations from my parents.

Like many children, I conflated parental approval with their love. The words "I love you" were seldom expressed in our family, which further reinforced this skewed understanding of affection. Therefore, I always strived to be the 'good girl', chasing perfection in a bid to earn my parents' elusive validation. Unsurprisingly, this mindset continued into adulthood, manifesting as a deep-seated need to impress and garner approval from others. For years, I carried the burden of my people-pleasing behaviour, blaming myself for my relentless need for validation. But now I see it was never my fault. This inclination to seek approval was a learned behaviour, a conditioning from a time when I had no agency to interpret or understand the messages I was receiving.

Realising that I was conditioned to be a people-pleaser was transformative. The understanding that my worth is not defined by others' approval was liberating. Yet, old habits die hard. Despite my newfound awareness, remnants of the past conditioning linger, sometimes even rearing their heads over minor situations, like an inaccurate invoice.

But awareness is the first step towards change. I now understand that it's not about being perfect; it's about being true to myself. I am enough just the way I am. My value isn't contingent on other people's approval.

The cultural messaging of perfectionism has burdened countless women. We're taught to be the 'good girl', the perfect daughter, wife, and mother, often bending ourselves out of shape trying to fit preconceived standards. This ingrained need for external validation can leave us feeling flawed and inadequate when we inevitably fall short.

But here's the powerful truth: our value isn't determined by the approval of others. The desire to please is not inherent; it's learned. And what's learned can be unlearned.

Awareness offers a choice: we can continue to seek approval from others, to bend ourselves out of shape trying to fit someone else's ideal, or we can stay true to ourselves. We can tap into our inner power, let that superhero shine, and relate to the world authentically. Whether others like us or not, whether they approve or not, we know deep in our hearts that we are worthy, and we bring something necessary and needed to the world. It's time to unlearn people-pleasing and start being unapologetically us. Because in truth, there's no such thing as perfect, but there's always room for being genuine.

Echoes of a Silent Fear

Thu, 03 Aug 2023 21:34:00 GMT

Two weeks ago, I reported a message sent to me via LinkedIn messaging about an unwanted and unsolicited message from a stranger who expressed, rather inappropriately, his love for me. I considered this to be sexual harassment, something that, despite being unpalatable, was met with indifference by LinkedIn. Their response was simply that the message did not violate their professional boundaries. To express my dismay and frustration, I decided to write a post about the inadequacy of LinkedIn's response.

Posting such public criticism came with a heavy side of fear. Fear of being labelled a troublemaker, fear of losing the professional reputation I had painstakingly built over six or seven years on this platform. I was also fearful of the prospect of being barred from LinkedIn for simply voicing my disappointment with their nonchalant response to my complaint about sexual harassment.

This scenario underscores the pervasive fear women grapple with daily. The unwanted message itself made me feel stalked and vulnerable, prompting me to block the sender. I was left feeling unsafe not just from the individual, but also from LinkedIn, as it did not take my complaint seriously.

Following my post, LinkedIn Help contacted me and I am currently awaiting their response to my concerns. However, this ordeal has highlighted the persistent feeling of insecurity that women experience, not just online, but in the broader world, especially when they dare to raise their voices. As a woman who has reconnected with her power, it's disconcerting to note that our voices can still be drowned out or invalidated when they're considered 'uncomfortable' or 'unseemly'. This is not a unique or western culture problem - it's a global one.

The societal conditioning that silences women, starting from childhood, is deeply ingrained. This conditioning breeds biases in both genders: men often deem women's voices unimportant or invalid, while women tend to doubt their own voices for the same reasons.

The reality is, there's no quick fix. The answer lies in the continuous recognition of this conditioning and these biases. By recognising them, we have new data points from which we can grow and effect change - not only within ourselves, but also in the systems and structures we live and work within.

I will continue to raise my voice because I am a woman of power. My voice is valid, my complaints are real, and my perspective is important. As women, we need to take our words seriously and challenge the conditioning and biases that undermine us. It is only then that we can truly shatter these harmful patterns and create a world where we feel safe and heard.

Capacity

Tue, 18 Jul 2023 01:20:00 GMT

Not long after returning from my first trip to Nauru, I wrote...

Anyone who is familiar with Doctor Who, in any of its many incarnations, will know the amazing quality of the Tardis is that despite its outward appearance as a typical British telephone box its interior capacity is enormous. The month I spent on Nauru I described as being compacted. Just as a wrecking yard will reduce a car to a metre cubed of crushed metal in minutes, so my time on Nauru was as if a whole year of experience was compacted into four weeks. During those four weeks there was very little time spent alone - even our accommodation was in shared rooms of up to nine people (imagine - nine women and only one bathroom!) Each day brought intensity in terms of emotions, weather and responsibilities. Although I have returned home seemingly the same person I was when I left, like the Tardis, my internal capacity is far greater than my outward appearance. I feel enlarged by the experience, full to overflowing. I carry the compactness of the last month not as a weight but as a change in who I am. My capacity as a human being has been enlarged but somehow this largeness still fits into the same container.

What I realise now, more than 10 years later, is that my experience on Nauru did not enlarge me – it showed me how big my capacity actually was.

In the years since that experience, I've talked with women – some of them crying tears of frustration – who know that there is so much more to them than any job role has given them opportunity to explore. They know they've been underestimated, kept small, told to be quiet, to stay small.

And yet they know they cannot.

What my experience of working with asylum seekers on Nauru showed me was that I am so much bigger than I thought. I have a capacity that is beyond what I thought I was capable of, beyond what I'd been taught was my place in life.

And because I know that to be true of my life – and am convinced it is true of so many women's lives – I now guide women as they rediscover and reconnect with their own unique power.

But why...?

Tue, 11 Jul 2023 02:45:00 GMT

I’ve been revisiting my first ever blog.

Yes, the words I wrote there have been out in cyber space for more than a decade now. But as I read them again, I see the kernels of the work I am doing now with women.

Like this one…

I remember as a girl of about 12 wondering why I was in my skin. Why was I born into my family and not the family across the road? This wasn't because I didn't like my family but rather I wondered why I was the person I was and not someone else. 40 plus years later I still ask the same question: why am I who I am? Watching Matthew Cowdrey win yet another gold medal [at 2012 Olympics] did his mum know when he was born with half an arm missing that inside her little baby was a world class athlete? Kurt Fearnley took on the Kokoda Track with only his arms and hands. He's been at three of Paralympics and won heaps of medals and races. Why? Because that's who he is - an adventurous world class athlete. Susan Boyle, a middle-aged woman from a village in Scotland, got up on stage at Britain's Got Talent and blew the world away with her "I Dreamed a Dream." Paul Potts sold phones - who knew he had the most amazing operatic voice! But both had something inside them that pushed them to do more. Why are these people the way they are? Some with physical limitations; others seemingly too old to 'make it.'? And that brings me back to me. Why am I the person I am? Why do I still have dreams that percolate inside me as a middle-aged woman? Perhaps there's no answer than to say that's just the way I am. I was made with these dreams, these desires, these passions and drives. I'll never be a world class athlete. I doubt I'll ever walk the Kokoda Track (let alone on my hands) and I'm sure I'll never sing on a TV talent show. But while ever I'm alive I get the chance to discover more of the unique shape that I am, and this blog is part of that. One of the many things in me when I was born is that of a writer - so that's who I am and that's what I do.

And now, a decade on, I understand more of why I am the way I am.

I know my purpose is to guide other women as they take the journey I have - rediscovering and reconnecting with their unique power.

I can answer my own 'But why?' question.

Throw off the bowlines!

Fri, 30 Jun 2023 01:47:00 GMT

In August 2012 I began my first blog. I was terrified.

I was putting my words out into the world for the first time, and it scared the life out of me. But it was the start of trusting what I had to say – that it was valid and useful and helpful and needed to be heard.

In one of those first blogs I quoted Mark Twain: "In 20 years from now. You'll be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So, throw off the bowlines. Sail away from safe harbour. Explore. Dream. Discover." Well, it's been 11 years since I wrote that post and I'm not disappointed with what I've done. I haven't achieved what I've wanted in the time frame I thought I would. But I am a very different person to the one who wrote that first blog – and yet the essentials remain the same.

What I've discovered as I've thrown off the bowlines – the things that tether me to the shore of what's been true in the past, how I've always done things, what others expect – is me. The deep true essence of who I am that has been hidden behind and beneath so much 'stuff'.

A friend who had done his own work of casting off the bowlines commented on one of my early posts: "I wonder whether we trust ourselves enough for the journey into our destiny. We seem addicted to finding fixed points of reference all the time." There is much truth in this.

To throw off the bowlines, to explore, dream and discover, we must trust ourselves. This trust may only be small, but even a little bit of trust in ourselves is all that is needed to loosen the ties that bind us to the past, to the things that keep us small, and silent, and submissive.

Truth is, we're big and bold and brassy. And we've only been small and silent and submissive because others felt threatened by us, were challenged by who we are. We've been told that being big is 'unladylike', that being bold is 'unbecoming', that being brassy is 'unattractive.'

But as we throw off the bowlines we know that big, bold and brassy is actually beautiful – not in some supermodel kind of way but in a deep knowing of who we are and an unwillingness to be less than our true selves.

I'm no longer terrified of putting my words out there. I give them wings and let them fly!

Silence(ing) is not golden!

Mon, 26 Jun 2023 00:02:00 GMT

Silence may be golden, but silencing is not.

There's a familiar phrase, "Silence is golden," that I've heard many times, often to indicate that a lack of noise or commotion is refreshing, restorative, or simply appreciated. Yet, this phrase often falls short of representing the full story, especially when we consider the idea of silencing.

Recently, I led a masterclass on the language of leadership, focusing on encouraging women to trust their own voices. Women, historically and culturally, have been conditioned to silence themselves — to comply, to fit in, not to make waves. We find a similar experience with people of colour, older people, or those with disabilities. Silence, in these contexts, may seem golden to those who are uncomfortable with the alternative, but it can render these individuals invisible.

Years ago, I penned a post on LinkedIn about women being silenced. The response was fascinating, especially from those who disagreed with my viewpoint, mostly men, who appeared to inadvertently validate my assertion. In essence, their disagreement seemed to attempt to silence me. Let's be clear: disagreement is not inherently silencing, but it crosses a line when it invalidates another person's lived experience or perspective.

Silencing pervades workplaces, across all fields — from corporate to education, from sport to science. Women, people of colour, older workers, and those with disabilities, experience this when they talk about their experiences with casual racism, sexism, ageism, or physical barriers. When these voices are silenced, issues remain unresolved and frustrations grow.

Even within families, silencing occurs when perspectives that deviate from the accepted narrative are subdued. In essence, silencing happens when individuals are uncomfortable with what is being shared. Much like the proverbial ostrich sticking its head in the sand, ignoring an issue does not make it disappear.

So, yes, "silence is golden" at times, but "silencing is not golden." In fact, it's a problematic way of avoiding uncomfortable truths or perspectives. As human beings, we must strive to do better. We mustn't silence those who share experiences different from ours, but instead actively listen, understand and grow from these interactions.

The world is teeming with different experiences, perspectives and truths that may challenge our own viewpoints. It's these differences that enrich our understanding and broaden our horizons. Listening, after all, is a valuable skill and, contrary to the phrase, it's in these moments when "silence is golden." Only by truly listening can we begin to appreciate the wealth of human experience and wisdom that we can share with each other.

Age is just a number - right?

Sun, 18 Jun 2023 01:29:00 GMT

Well…yes, and no.

This phrase is often used as an encouragement when those who are on the older - or younger - ends of the life and work spectrum doubt their ability to take on a new role, take a punt on their dreams or step outside the accepted norms for their age group. And, in general, the advice is sound.

It certainly was for me when I questioned what I was doing starting a business at 60 when I had no previous business experience, and my siblings (of whom I am the eldest) were moving towards semi-retirement. What was I thinking?? I was reminded by my coach that age is just a number. She was right. My chronological age was no barrier to me establishing and building my speaking and mentoring business.

So, that's the 'yes' answer. Now for the 'no'.

Age is not just a number. And as I grow older – currently in my late 60s – I work to balance the idea that age is no limitation to achieving my goals with the actuality of what aging brings and working with that.

Aging brings limitations – I am physically slower, my balance less confident, my hearing is dodgy at times, I heal slower and bruise and cut more easily. My skin has a crepey texture and my physical shape is very different to even 10 years ago. And I have to take all these things into consideration as I work and build my business. I can't go out to evening meetings often – I'm wrecked for the next day, so I choose which meetings I attend more carefully and when. I need to rest during the day – my back aches after even a short time at my desk, and my hips – well don't get me started on them!

Aging also brings insight and wisdom. I have decades of life to reflect on, and I feel like I'm only really getting started in living fully out of my authentic self. Age brings a perspective that only years of taking multiple trips around the sun can give. I'm more and less tolerant – more tolerant of diverse thinking, happy for there to be grey areas rather than everything being black and white, and can sit well with not knowing. But I'm less tolerant of bigotry and injustice, small-mindedness, and more ready to call it out.

When people tell me – as they do often – that I don't look 67, while such a comment may be intended as a compliment, it also implies that being younger is something I aim for – it's not. Yes, age is only a number and can never be an excuse for not trying for the things we want. But age – and aging – is a reality. I believe aging is a privilege. If we're fortunate we get to experience old age.

And I choose to embrace my aging, both the growth and the limitations that being this age brings. I've never been this age before. I relish and revel in this part of my life adventure.

The Paradox of Self-Care

Fri, 02 Jun 2023 01:33:00 GMT

Honouring Our Needs and Nurturing Healthy Relationships

In a world that often praises selflessness and putting others first, I've found myself reflecting on the importance of self-care and the significance of honouring our own needs. Throughout my life, I've been taught that prioritising myself was somehow selfish, that my needs were secondary to those of my parents and siblings. This belief was deeply ingrained, stemming from the common teachings of Christianity that emphasised self-sacrifice and putting others before oneself.

As I grew older, I carried this mindset into adulthood, believing that my strength and resilience were enough to handle anything that came my way. Taking care of my own needs wasn't something I considered essential because I convinced myself that I could cope with whatever life threw at me. Little did I realise the impact this perspective was having on my sense of self-worth and overall well-being. The turning point came when I began to question these long-held beliefs and started to honour my own needs. It was a paradoxical realization that by taking care of myself, not only did I benefit personally, but I also attracted people who shared the same understanding. It was as if by valuing my own needs, I was signalling to others that their needs were also significant.

I learned that when we prioritise our well-being, we invite others to do the same. Healthy, reciprocal relationships are built on a foundation of mutual respect and the acknowledgment that both parties matter. It's no longer about sacrificing ourselves for the sake of others, but rather finding a balance where everyone's needs are acknowledged and met.

By practicing self-care and self-compassion, we give ourselves permission to set boundaries and communicate our needs effectively. In turn, this opens the door for others to do the same, fostering an environment of understanding, support, and mutual growth. It becomes a beautiful dance of honouring ourselves and uplifting others simultaneously. The shift towards self-care doesn't diminish our capacity to care for others; instead, it enhances it. When we are fulfilled, nourished, and emotionally balanced, we have more to give to those around us. We become a source of strength and support, not out of obligation, but from a place of genuine care and love.

I want to challenge the notion that self-care is selfish or indulgent. Instead, I choose to embrace the idea that by meeting our own needs, we create a ripple effect that benefits both ourselves and those we interact with. There is a harmony between self-care and caring for others, because we all deserve to be valued and cherished.

The paradox of self-care lies in the fact that by nurturing our well-being and communicating our needs openly, we cultivate healthy, reciprocal relationships where both parties feel seen, heard, and valued. We can honour ourselves and others in equal measure.

Redefining Power

Mon, 15 May 2023 00:41:00 GMT

Embracing the Deeper Power Within: Redefining Women's Potential

When discussing women rediscovering their power, it's not uncommon for some to dismiss the idea, believing they already possess success or positions of authority. However, the power I speak of goes beyond external achievements. In a world where women's positional power is scarce, it's crucial to redefine our understanding of power. True power extends far beyond the surface level. By exploring our internal strength and embracing our unique potential, we can create a significant impact that transcends societal norms and expectations.

The Illusion of Positional Power

While a thriving business or a high-ranking position is praiseworthy, they represent only a fraction of the power women hold. Society often restricts power to hierarchical or patriarchal structures, leaving little room for recognizing the depth and breadth of women's capabilities. It's time to break free from this limited perspective and acknowledge that true power encompasses much more than what meets the eye.

Embracing a Deeper Essence of Power

The power I refer to is an inner force, present within every woman from birth. It is an organic and unique strength that defies societal definitions. Embracing this deeper essence of power means recognizing our worth beyond external achievements and societal expectations. When we tap into this innate power, we unlock a wellspring of strength that empowers us to overcome obstacles, embrace our authenticity, and make a lasting impact.

Expanding the Idea of Power

To fully embrace our authentic power, we must expand our understanding of what power truly means. It is not confined to positional authority or conforming to patriarchal structures. Instead, true power emerges when we connect with our inner selves, honouring our values, needs and drivers. This expanded notion of power enables us to challenge the status quo, break free from limitations, and inspire others to do the same.

Harnessing the Power Within

As women, we possess incredible strength and untapped potential. It is when we tap into our internal power—the power gifted to us at birth—that we unlock our truest capability. By embracing our unique, organic power, we can bring forth our authentic selves, overcome societal barriers, and make a profound impact on the world.
It's time to redefine power and move beyond the confines of external achievements. By connecting with our internal power, embracing authenticity, and expanding our understanding of what it means to be powerful, we can create a world where the inherent strengths and capabilities of every woman are recognized and celebrated. Let us tap into our internal power, unleash our unique potential, and become catalysts for positive change.
What are your thoughts? How can we redefine power away from the usual societal norms and external markers? Drop and comment below.

Equilibrium rather than equity is the way forward.

Mon, 24 Oct 2022 22:38:00 GMT

A lot of emphasis is placed on equity, ensuring that everyone has an equal role and an equitable place.

While this seems like a good idea what I've observed is that, for many, equity feels like a zero-sum game - I must lose for you to win. Those who have position and power fear that they will lose if they must make space for others. There is a sense that the pie can only be cut into so many pieces, or that my piece of the pie must become smaller if you are also to have a slice.

Even processes such as quotas and ratios can communicate that someone will have to give up their seat at the table to make space for another to come in. Questions are raised around whether those who come in have done so because of skill and ability or merely because they can fill part of the quota. And those who are fast-tracked to a role because they fit a particular demographic are unwittingly set up to fail because the 'table' is not ready for them – the systems and processes that work for those already around the table are not necessarily geared for the new people who come in.

Equilibrium on the other hand is all about embracing the different skills, insight and outlooks that people bring to a problem, to a workplace, to a project, purely because of their varying life experiences and backgrounds. Equilibrium involves not a zero-sum game in a limited and tightly bounded playing field, but the exploration and incorporation of an ever-increasing galaxy of opportunities and possibilities.

One of the best and easily accessible examples of equilibrium rather than equity is the human body. Not all body parts have equal strength or ability, but all are needed to maintain the equilibrium of the body. Take the forearm and the hand. The hand can do so much more than the forearm can, but without the forearm, the hand cannot function. Our toes can seem like odd appendages but without them our ability to balance is compromised. Different body parts are not equal. They have different functions. There is equilibrium rather than equity.

While the body has finite boundaries it is not limited by fixed roles and abilities. If someone is born without hands, toes take on the function of fingers. If a person has a catastrophic accident and becomes paralysed activities such as painting that were once under the control of hands and fingers are now done by holding a paintbrush in the mouth. The equilibrium of the body is maintained.

Equilibrium rather than equity is needed in our workplaces. The equilibrium that values, encourages and embraces difference – different skills, backgrounds, outlooks. The equilibrium that brings balance and fairness to work environments, that is open to the new and not afraid to shatter the status quo. Equilibrium rather than equity is the way forward. Where openness, balance and opportunity are valued. Where the galaxy of possibilities and opportunities is ever-expanding. Let's chase equilibrium, rather than being satisfied with merely equity.

It takes courage to confront expectations.

Mon, 26 Sep 2022 23:25:00 GMT

We all have expectations - who doesn't?

As I built a new life post-divorce and reflected on my 28-year marriage, I recognised that I'd gone into marriage with a lot of expectations – who doesn't?! Those expectations were shaped by my parents' relationships and what the church taught a good Christian marriage should be.

During the marriage, I learnt to step back from many of those expectations, coming to understand that expectations are a killer. They kill the moment. In seeking some illusive tomorrow expectations kill the today, the 'what is'.

As I weathered the aftermath of divorce, I had to navigate the expectations others had of me - many of which were expressed in extremely hurtful ways. Most came out of other's inability to deal with my divorce because I was no longer doing what was expected of me as 'good Christian'.

Although I recognised that these expectations of me, just as mine were of my ex and our marriage, were not necessarily valid they weighed heavily especially when I made decisions and acted in my best interests. Somehow, I just couldn't separate myself from that weight. It lay there, like a dead thing around my neck.

Until recently when my coach suggested I try an exercise called Clarity through Comparison (thank you Jacqueline Nagle). On the left-hand side of a page I was to write (yes, write not type or use any electronic device) all the critical thoughts that bubbled around in my head. Then I was to cross out the critical thought and on the opposite page to write the positive affirmation that I wanted to replace them with. And then read those new messages aloud for 21 days. Three of my critical thoughts centred on the expectations of others. As I read and reread my affirmations – which basically said the expectations of others were their own – I discovered that I was separating myself from those expectations. I could stand back and see that the expectations of others belonged to them and it was not business to carry them or to bear their weight.

What I was doing was becoming a separate entity. I was standing back and looking at those expectations in a completely detached way. I was placing ownership exactly where it belonged to be – with others.

I try hard not to have expectations of others. I work at taking people just as they are. But expectations can creep in unaware. When I notice them, I can take ownership of them. If someone disappoints me because they failed to meet an unspoken expectation – that's on me. It's my responsibility to deal with how I feel about that situation and how I will respond.

It takes courage to confront the expectations of others, to act in a healthy way in the face of that weight. And it also takes courage to confront our expectations of others, to own what we need to, and then let things go.

It takes courage to challenge the myth of the strong resilient woman.

Mon, 19 Sep 2022 23:58:00 GMT

I’m tired of women being described as strong and resilient!

But, but, but…I hear you say.
Yes, women are strong, resilient and courageous. But always having that description applied to women - often as a counter to the weak, fragile, wilting woman in need of protection so favoured by trashy novels and Victorian-era thinking – allows the very real needs and concerns of women in 21 ^st century to be overlooked, diminished and dismissed.
Let’s face it. Women have always been strong.
They’re strong physically – anyone who’s witnessed a woman giving birth knows how physically strong they are. As a side note, I bent the drip stand in the throes of birthing my eldest – just reached up, grabbed it and pulled on it as a contraction came! And they can plough fields and plant rice with a child strapped to their backs, play footy and tackle hard, and deadlift their body weight.
Women are strong mentally – they’ve withstood the damage done to them by systems made to keep them ‘in their place’. They’ve suffered rape as a weapon of war. They’ve seen families killed before their eyes. They’ve been vital parts of underground networks in wartime shielding and harbouring refugees. And they’ve come out the other side strong.
Women are strong emotionally – I know they lachrymose woman who faints at the sight of blood is a common trope but women are often stoic in the face of tragedy. And the ease with their emotions surface is an indicator of emotional and mental health rather than the opposite – they are in touch with their internal life.
Women are strong spiritually – women make up the majority of Christian congregations, are the centres of Jewish homes, physically display their faith as Muslims despite their clothing making them a target for abuse and discrimination.
There is no denying that women are strong, and resilient, and courageous.
But…only having those words as descriptors for women allows for the burdens and struggles that women face and carry to be overlooked, diminished and dismissed. The needs of women can be hidden and glossed over because assumptions are made that women can carry those burdens unaided, that women don’t really need caring for because, after all, they’re the nurturers.
What is needed is some equilibrium.
A balance is required between the supposed weakness and fragility of women epitomised by the ‘damsel in distress’ and very real strengths of women display every day. Women are neither one thing nor another. Neither wholly weak and vulnerable needing care and attention, nor completely strong and resilient, able to face all storms.
Women must be able to say, “I need help” and not be perceived as less than. Women need to be able to display their power without feeling that is the only characteristic they can display in any situation.
Women, it’s up to us.

It takes courage to hold our narratives lightly.

Sun, 11 Sep 2022 23:53:00 GMT

“History isn't there for us to like or dislike. It's there for us to learn from…” Paul Lapido

With the passing of Queen Elizabeth II, the dominant narrative across the west has been one of grieving for a long life lived in the service of others.
At the same time, multiple competing narratives have been expressed with varying degrees of anger. Narratives that centre on colonialism and its impact on indigenous peoples across multiple continents – the Americas, Africa, Asia, Australia, and the Indian sub-continent. Narratives that speak to invasion, subjugation, annihilation, slavery, and rape. Narratives whose consequences are generational.
One tweet noted that it is possible to hold different narratives in tension – the Queen was a lovely person, and she inherited and perpetuated a system that invaded, subjugated, annihilated, enslaved and raped. A post on LinkedIn drew attention to the long and proud history of African kingdoms that existed for centuries before they were ‘discovered’ and used as source of labour and slavery, but neglected to add that the history of African kingdoms also includes slavery and subjugation.
I return often to this quote from Brené Brown: Owning your story is the bravest thing you’ll ever do. The quote is most readily applied at the individual level but is it equally pertinent at the community and national level. Here in the lands now called Australia, we are moving collectively towards an indigenous voice to parliament and to reconciliation – and we have a long way to go. The story of these lands includes invasion, subjugation, annihilation, slavery, and rape – by people who share(d) my skin colour. The impact on First Nations people continues generationally.
Paul Lapido writes that “History isn't there for us to like or dislike. It's there for us to learn from…” History is a tangle of stories and it's always the stories of the dominant ones, the ones with power, that become the narratives written in history books, reflected in television programs, books and media commentary.
We who live now, as part of the dominant people group, have the responsibility to listen to stories that are hard for us to hear, and those stories must be made part of the narratives we take forward. Those who have been invaded and subjugated must be allowed to tell their narratives – with anger if need be – but those narratives must include the subjugation and slavery that is part of their own history of dominance.
No one is free from narratives, individual and collective, personal and corporate. None of our narratives are purely one thing or another – invader or invaded, enslaver and enslaved. The past cannot be ignored. Many cannot just ‘move one’ because their narratives have not been honoured. It takes courage to hold our narratives lightly – not to treat them as insignificant but to remain open to how the narratives of others differ from, impinge on and colour our own. Have courage to listen to the stories that trouble you. Have courage to assess your own narratives in the light of those of others. Have courage to own the stories that distress.
The past has shaped where we all are today, but it doesn’t need to define us. History can be learned from. We can shape the future from what we learn from our narratives.

It takes courage to lead when others seek to diminish you.

Sun, 04 Sep 2022 23:27:00 GMT

Some people just can’t help themselves.

They are not interested in putting in the hard work to achieve their goals, or they’re not willing to risk some discomfort by putting themselves into new situations, or they wish their lives away hoping that somehow miraculously their dreams will come true.
But when you put your hand up for a new position – and get it – instead of being pleased for you they choose to minimise your achievement.
Has that happened to you? It happened to me when I was teaching a number of years ago.
I let the chairman of the board, of the small school at which I was teaching, know that if the principal’s position became available that I’d like to be considered. And when the role became vacant, I was offered the role and accepted the challenge.
I was so pleased! And so proud of myself. Although I’d not had that kind of leadership role before, I knew I was capable and was ready for the challenge. But…and there’s always a ‘but’ isn’t there!
But, over a family Christmas lunch (for those non-Aussies reading this, our school year ends just before Christmas) I overheard a close family member talking about my new role for the coming year. And I heard these words, “Bronwyn really got it by default. There wasn’t anybody else they could ask.” I was so hurt by those words. Even if they were true, why would you say such things?
While I later challenged the speaker as to why they said such a thing and although they assured me that they were proud of me, I knew the words said that diminished my achievements were what they really thought. And having heard those words, I could not unhear them. But I could choose to work hard and fulfil my new role to the best of my ability.
I was only in that role for a year, as the small school closed at the end of 2004. But, even in that short space of time I learnt a few things. First, that no matter the number of students in the school a principal’s workload is full on. Particularly in a small school with limited admin assistance the principal does all the day-to-day admin as well as the annual reporting.
Second, the ability to lead well comes down to the character of the person leading not the number of people they lead. I only had one other staff member – and had a full class load as well – but I needed to lead as well in this situation as I would have with 10 times as many staff.
Third, that the best leading is done under pressure. The school was under constant pressure to remain open and the school board was split by rifts. But my role was keep the school on an even keel and, in this case, to finish well. That final end-of-year celebration was bitter-sweet, but it was a celebration of all we’d been able to do in the lives of the children who attended.
Other people’s words and opinions can hurt and diminish. But we can choose to lead – ourselves and others – despite that.

It takes courage to leave the places where we’ve had security.

Tue, 30 Aug 2022 22:53:00 GMT

Can you wave surf?

I know my story is a familiar one.
As the result of my divorce, I lost my family home where I had been building a family for 28 years. Over that time, we’d moved a number of times so it wasn’t so much the house itself that I grieved but the sense of home that I missed so much.
A counsellor helped me uncover what ‘home’ meant for me – family – so in each of the houses I lived as a Salvation Army officer, I made sure there were lots of photos on the walls and covering my inherited sideboard so that, although my sons were grown, I was still surrounded by family and the house felt like home.
When I turned 60, I decided that I would say goodbye to the security I had with the Salvos – employment, housing and a car – to follow an unfulfilled dream. To be a professional speaker. But I had no home of my own so I registered with a house-sitting website, culled my possessions, and put most of what I owned in storage, keeping only my clothes and a couple of important personal items with me – including my family photos.

A year or two before I left the Salvo I talked with God – as I was wont to do – and asked that I be taught how to wave surf. Not actually wave surf on the ocean, but wave surf on life so that I could surf whatever life threw at me, skimming the surface but delighting in the power of all that was moving beneath me. Looking back, the years after I left the security of my marriage (a toxic one but still secure in terms of having a home) and the years after I left the Salvos were wave-surfing years. I didn’t sink but there were lots of times when I was afraid.
It takes courage to step away from the places where we’ve had some form of security.
But despite the fear and the insecurity, I’ve found that those times of stepping away have yielded the greatest growth and opportunities only dreamed of.

It takes courage to say goodbye to patterns of behaviour and relationships that have worked in the past but are no longer useful.

Tue, 23 Aug 2022 02:13:00 GMT

My song was "Say a Little Prayer for Me."

In my last year of high school, a satirical newsletter was put out by the students finishing Year 12 that featured anecdotes from our final year at school. Included was a playlist of songs that was matched with various students.
The song matched to me was “Say a Little Prayer for Me” - this was early 1970s. An appropriate song as I was a regular churchgoer, the quintessential ‘good girl’. That’s how I’d been raised – to be polite, nice, obedient, sexually pure, compliant, no swearing, little alcohol, no smoking. This was normal for me, although I knew that many of peers lived very different lives.
These patterns of behaviour, while not ‘bad’ or ‘unhealthy’ in themselves, came with a variety of restrictions and unwritten codes to follow. And I followed them because this was ‘normal’ for me. I didn’t question them.
Until…years into my marriage when, despite much effort, tears, thought and turmoil, I decided to leave. I committed what I saw as the ‘cardinal sin’ – separation and divorce. After all, the only pre-marriage counselling given to my then-husband and I was “Don’t get divorced.”
Despite the pain and grief of leaving, I look back and see that divorce was one of the best things that happened to me. This huge life step was the catalyst for me to assess so much of what I’d been taught since childhood about how to behave, and what a woman should or could do. Because unsurprisingly, after divorcing, the earth still spun on its axis, the sky did not fall, and I continued to sense God guiding me.
Challenging the church’s commitment to marriage at all costs allowed me space to question other things, particularly around how people relate to each other. I came to see that passive-aggressive behaviour was rife in churches – their commitment to everyone being kind and nice meant that people often had no way of dealing with anger than to suppress it. And that passive-aggressive abuse is real – death by a thousand cuts I call it. So hard to see when it’s happening to you. No marks or bruises. Not even any yelling. But the damage done is immense and takes years to heal.
It takes courage to say goodbye to patterns of behaviour and relationships that have worked in the past but are no longer useful.
I had to unlearn ways of relating to people. I learnt to say what I wanted rather than ‘beating around the bush’ hoping people would pick up on subtle hints. I learnt to choose people to be in my life who were healthy for me – this took quite a while to learn and in some respects I’m still learning. I learnt that I don’t owe people an explanation for my choices, nor do I need to tell everyone what I’m doing – I need only be an ‘open book’ with those I trust and who are safe for me.
It takes courage to say goodbye to patterns of behaviour and relationships that have worked in the past but are no longer useful. But it is necessary work.

It takes courage to face another person's anger.

Fri, 19 Aug 2022 01:40:00 GMT

You know what it’s like to have an angry person invade your personal space, don’t you?!

When they come right up close to your face, and spit words at you. And it happens when you least expect it.
That was just one of a number of situations I faced as a teaching principal. An angry parent demanding their aggrievances be heard, just as classes were lining up for morning assembly. And I had a class to teach.
This parent was angry because…I had given her son a reader about giants!
She was not happy because she didn’t like fantasy, didn’t believe in fairy tales, and only wanted factual material sent home with her son. Her livid contorted face told her that her anger ran deep. But it also showed me that she felt impotent in this situation. She had ‘standards’ that had been breached and she felt she – after years if home-schooling her sons – that she was losing control over what they read, and what they were taught. Her anger was directed at me but it was more so directed at the wider situation she found herself in, now that she had agreed to let her sons be educated outside the home.
As principal I was due to lead the morning assembly so I quickly let another teacher know that I would be delayed, because there was no escaping this parent. She wanted my attention – now!
After hearing her out, I agreed that the only readers that would be sent home for her son would be factual in nature – no stories about giants or anything vaguely mythical. It was a simple solution, and she went away mollified. But I was left having to shelve my own responses to her anger because I had children to teach.
I felt her anger was unjustified and disproportionate. But I also felt I had no choice but to ‘wear it’ because, in my role as principal, I had to keep parents happy as well as provide a good learning environment for their children. Nothing would have been gained by me getting angry too. She needed me to hear her and act. Which I did.
I acquiesced to this parent’s demands about what reading material her son took home – and I took pains to ensure he didn’t read anything like that at school during reading groups. But I didn’t take fairy tales and fantasy books out of the classroom – this was at the height of Harry Potter so there was lots of interest in fantasy as well as lots of controversy around it – because I see fantasy and myth as great ways of telling deeper truths.
We don’t get to choose how other people respond to situations nor do we get to choose the time at which they respond. It takes courage to bear the brunt of someone else’s anger , especially when a situation could be handled differently and achieve the same outcome.
And it takes courage to respond rather than react – and that we do get to choose!

It takes courage to challenge accepted norms at work.

Tue, 16 Aug 2022 00:48:00 GMT

Have you ever been treated like a child in the workplace?

Perhaps stood there, open mouthed, wondering if you’d really been treated like that? If you have, then you may well resonate with this story.
After I returned from my last rotation on Nauru, I spent some time adjusting back into Sydney life, resting and resetting. A new appointment with The Salvation Army came my way, only about 20 minutes’ drive from where I was living in the inner west. I was to have an associate role with the couple who ran a Salvo centre with lots of programs and activities and I was sure I would find a place for myself there.
Within in a couple of days of being in the office, I inadvertently overstepped an invisible line about how things were done in the centre. I can’t even remember what it was it was so trivial. But what does stick in my memory are the words of one of the office staff who apologised to me for neglecting to tell me about this particular procedure, saying, “I’m sorry I got you into trouble with…” filling in the name of the officer in charge.
Got me into trouble!?!
Those were words out of my childhood and teen years, at school or at home. They were not words I expected to hear in a workplace full of mature adults. But it wasn’t long before I saw that “getting into trouble” was an everyday reality for the staff who worked under this person – and they walked on eggshells trying hard not to overstep the mark.
While I didn’t feel confident enough yet to confront the officer about her management style (passive-aggressive micromanager) it wasn’t long before my idea of how an adult operates clashed with hers, we came to verbal blows, and I told her to not treat me as a child.
Apart from the couple in leadership, my relationships with most of the people at the centre were great and I even caught up with some of the refugees who had been on Nauru and were now living in the inner west of Sydney. However, my time in that appointment was short. and I moved to Melbourne to work in the Salvos editorial department.
Like most people, I don’t like conflict or confrontation, but I’ve learnt that I cannot just accept the norms of a workplace just because they are the ones put in place or supported by leadership. Especially when those norms keep others “in their place” and allow leaders to operate with little or no accountability for their actions and attitudes.
It takes courage to challenge accepted norms at work.
But, for me, this is about justice. Justice that treats people fairly, that doesn’t continue to privilege one person over another just because “that’s the way it’s always been done!”

Courage is of the heart.

Fri, 12 Aug 2022 00:57:00 GMT

Just showing up in the world when you have a mental illness takes immense courage.

We’d been talking for a while over coffee (mine) and iced chocolate (hers). She had her notebook in front of her, in which she kept all the information she needed to give me and where she recorded what she couldn’t afford to forget.
She finished writing some notes and looked up at me. And then her eyes changed. She stared at me, and I didn’t know the person looking back. After a moment, the woman I had been meeting with for a few months was again sitting in the chair across from me at the coffee shop. This shook me and I became hyper-alert for the rest of our meeting, but nothing else happened.
This was the first, and only time, that I had seen a shift in personality that can be part of schizophrenia. My coffee partner was a woman about 10 years younger than me - highly intelligent and university educated - who had, because of mental illness, found herself in vulnerable housing and attempting to navigate various government departments in search of a safer place to live. She was often dishevelled and the drugs she was on had a number of side effects, including incontinence.
She’d reached out to me as her local Salvo officer for support.
Over the course of a couple of years, I accompanied her to doctor’s appointments, wrote letters to different government services, visited her flat and went with her as she called in at her mother’s place from time to time. Eventually, we found her a new place to live where she didn’t have to walk past people exchanging drugs and where she wasn’t afraid of being assaulted.
This woman was so courageous.
Just showing up in the world when you have a mental illness, let alone dealing with government departments and living arrangements that left her exposed to abuse and trauma, takes immense courage. But she not only showed up, she reached out to me for help. And she stayed the course as together we worked our way through meeting after meeting and sent letter after letter until she achieved the outcome she needed. Of all the work I did in Canberra with the Salvos, this was the most satisfying and the achievement of which I am most proud. Courage is, at its core, all about the heart - from Old French corage , from Latin cor meaning ‘heart’.
This woman had heart. She followed what she knew her heart needed – safety. And, when she couldn’t do it on her own, she reached out for help.
That takes courage.

It takes courage to own our story.

Sun, 07 Aug 2022 22:22:00 GMT

But owning our story sets us free.

A number of years ago, as part of a women’s leadership day I attended, a psychologist ran a group exercise.
On the floor she placed a number of quotes on printed cards which she then encouraged us to look at and select one that resonated with us individually. The quote that jumped out at me was by Brené Brown: “Owning our story and loving ourselves through the process is the bravest thing we’ll ever do.”
After the session was over, I went back to my room and journaled about the impact that quote had on me. I then searched out the psychologist who led that session and we went out into the bush behind the conference centre and, in her presence and with her support, I told my story – and owned it for the first time.
The emotional and mental release after doing so was huge!
It wasn’t that my story was very different to that of other mid-life women – I’d divorced in my 50s. But what I needed to do was truly own this story as part of my life story.
Cognitively, I knew I was divorced. But, because of my upbringing that placed such emphasis on staying married and viewed divorce as a cardinal sin, I was having real difficulty accepting that this had happened in my life – even though I’d left the marriage and instigated the divorce proceedings.
I felt huge shame and guilt about this situation – even though there was very good reasons for my leaving after spending years trying to make the marriage work. But the shame I felt at being a divorced woman, the only divorced person in my family, ensured that I felt a stigma that was reinforced by comments from family and the actions of people I knew.
Then I found this quote: “Owning our story and loving ourselves through the process is the bravest thing we’ll ever do.” I knew I hadn’t yet owned my divorce story. I hadn’t made it part of my life story. So, with the psychologist as witness, I spoke out loud all the parts of my story that I was ashamed of, that I hadn’t really owned until now.
And when it was done?
The relief that washed over me, the load that was lifted from me, was amazing. I knew now that when we own all our story, especially the parts that we want to hide, then all the guilt and shame disappear. Owning our story allows us to incorporate it into our lives and when another person – or our own thoughts – accuse us we are able to say, “I know, that’s part of my story.” Our story no longer has the power to shame us – because we’ve made it our own.
It takes courage to own our story. It’s not necessarily easy to do because we must confront life experiences we often wish had not occurred. But they have and they are part of our story.
Owning our story sets us free.

It takes courage to trust in the midst of pain.

Thu, 04 Aug 2022 23:31:00 GMT

A young couple lost their little one when their boat capsized.

Up against the fence there was a small space, underneath the trees. Tropical sunlight filtered through the leaves and speckled the ground with shifting shapes. Plastic flower petals, ready to sprinkle on the ground, filled my hand as I faced the young couple in front of me,
A young couple who were to be parents again in the coming months. A young couple who had fled the strife and trouble in Sri Lanka, hoping for a better life in Australia. A young couple who had lost their first little one in the seas between Indonesia and Australia when their boat capsized. A young couple who were now in off-shore detention in Nauru.
And, as the Salvo officer in the camps, they’d asked me to hold a memorial service for the baby they’d lost as they sought asylum as a family.
As a Salvo officer in Canberra, I’d always seen it as a huge privilege to hold funeral services. I felt privileged that grieving families allowed me a window into their lives at such a painful time. And I considered it a gift to open up space for people to share their memories of the one they’d lost, and to hold space for them as they began the long journey of adding the experience of loss to their life stories.
Now I was doing the same thing in a very different place, with people whose faith was different mine (I was from a Christian faith background, were Hindus), with people who had lost so much and had so little. And it was still a huge privilege, one I did not undertake lightly, one I valued highly and found humbling.
Humbling because of the trust this young couple placed in me as a person. Humbling because I was learning afresh that people of faith understand people of faith, regardless of their faith differences. Humbling because I had so much and they had so little and yet all I could give to them was myself, my words and my actions.
The overarching memory I have of this experience is one of great peace. I hear the wind sloughing through the trees. I see the sunlight flecking the ground with light and shadow. I feel the stillness that came for these two people as I said carefully chosen sentences in simple English.
This couple had shown so much courage in their young lives, none less than the courage they had to trust me to aid them in farewelling their baby. Despite our many differences of language, faith, culture and life experience, we connected in a place of peace. In a place where we were strangers, my heart met theirs.
And, although I cannot remember their names or even their faces, I will never forget them or the courage they showed in trusting me.

It takes courage to write a new story without ignoring the story that brought us here.

Mon, 01 Aug 2022 22:33:00 GMT

The past shapes who we are now. But while the past shapes us it does not define us.

The last 16 years has been a time of transition for me.
For the first 50 years of my life I was deeply entrenched in evangelical Christian sub-culture, where the church was at the centre of everything I did, and its precepts and norms shaped my life. And then I left my marriage. I committed one of the biggest taboos of the Christian faith – I divorced.
Interestingly, the sky did not fall.
I still felt loved by God. But the shape of my faith began to change. Church was still very much part of my life. In fact, I trained as a Salvation Army Officer, became an ordained minister, and completed an honours degree in theology. But the more deeply I looked at the Bible and understood the contexts in which its many books were written over thousands of years I came to see that interpretations of any written words are nuanced and shaped by the people who read them. And I realised that much of the church’s teachings reflected cultural norms that were given weight and legitimacy by Bible verses. For instance, the Bible has been used in the past to justify slavery because slaves and masters are specifically mentioned in some of the letters written by Paul.
After I left the Salvos in 2016 to pursue my dream of building a speaking business, I found that not only was I building a new life but I was shaping a new identity, outside of the norms, expectations and boundaries of church teaching. I was getting in touch with who I really was away from what the church had told me a woman could be. And here was the rub. I found it difficult to marry the identity that had been mine for more than 50 years with the new ways in which I was now living, thinking and seeing myself.
The past – mine and yours, collective and individual – shapes who we are now. There is no escaping that fact. While the past shapes us it does not define us. And we can choose to write a new story. But, the story of the past is still with us even though the life of the present is very different to what we’ve left behind.
And this is where courage comes in. It takes courage to write a new story without ignoring the story that brought us here . It takes courage to find ways to hold both the past and the present in tension, to live into a new reality and identity without succumbing to the temptation of trying to negate all the past and its influences. Who I was for the first 50-60 years of my life got me to where I am today. I can learn from that person. I can be grateful for that person. I can be proud of that person for doing the best she could.
But I no longer need to be that person.

It takes courage to speak when our voices have been silenced.

Wed, 27 Jul 2022 23:36:00 GMT

And it takes practice.

And a safe place to start.

I grew up in a generation whose parents were raised on the principle that children should be seen and not heard. That principle wasn’t strongly applied in our family, but neither were we seen as individuals with real ideas of our own – we were just ‘the kids’.
Added to that, mine was a conservative Christian family whose social life revolved around church on Sundays and attending other events connected with the church community, many of which were lots of fun - like the church camps, the social dinners, and the dances in the hall. But the dominant – often only – voices of authority were male, and I grew up trusting the words of men and believing that men had the right way of looking at the world.
Fast forward 40 years. In the six years it took me to complete an honours degree in theology I noticed that very few women theologians were among the recommended reading for the subjects I undertook. On my bookshelf, 100% of the theological writers were men. The words of women were only read in snippets, and often confined to the realms of feminist or liberation theology. Women’s voices were rarely heard in the mainstream.
On a personal level, words have been used against me, to silence me by questioning the validity of what I’m saying: “What are you banging on about?” “You are so strident!” “Bronwyn, be quiet!”
Although I am a person of words, and a wordsmith, I have at times felt uncertain about speaking my truth out of concern for the sensibilities of others. There has been a subtle fear that my thoughts and words are of no value, no matter how loudly I say them. In varying relationships, men have attempted to silence me by telling me what and when I could share details of my life or my interpretation of events. And, in the past, I have complied because confrontation is not something I find easy to do and from which, like many people, I shy away.
While silence may be golden, as the old saying goes, if it used as a space for reflection, or used to foster innovation and the development of new ideas, and beautiful when it is a space inhabited by both men and women, silence is truly only golden if it is a place of freedom and not of confinement.
It takes courage to speak up when our voices are small or have been silenced for a long time.
And it takes practice. And a safe place to start.

Courage, connection and...cardboard!

Mon, 25 Jul 2022 01:51:00 GMT

Where there is intention, connection and conversation are always possible –

but it can take courage to make the first step.

I walked down into the Regional Processing Centre (RPC) with a sheaf of papers in my hand. The RPC was grey and dusty. In the sheltered area, called ‘The Green Room‘ because of its shade-cloth covering, men stood or sat in groups. Some were watching programs on the TVs – pre-recorded from their home countries - in Tamil, Pashtu or maybe Farsi. Others were playing or watching games of carom, fingers quickly flicking black or brown discs across a powdered board to sink their opponent’s discs. I approached one group and smiled in a general fashion and called out one of the ‘boat numbers’ I had on the papers. Each man had a number. My job was to find the man who had this number and get his details – usually with help of an asylum seeker who spoke a little English. A chair suddenly appeared for me to sit on. Because chairs were scarce, certainly not enough for each man to have one to sit on, they were valuable. Some men took them back to their tents and used them as bedside tables to store their things off the ground—to keep them out of the wet when it rained, as it did, often. I was given one of the precious chairs to sit on—a gesture of hospitality and welcome that I would meet with consistently in my interactions with the asylum seekers on Nauru. As I tried to write down details, resting the papers on my thigh, another man handed me a piece of cardboard to lean on. I learned that this man’s name was Uzutallah. Uzutallah was grey too. He wore the grey track-pants and nondescript T-shirt issued to him. He offered me the cardboard and smiled. I think I said ‘thank you’ but I know I was dumbfounded. Uzutallah had nothing. Few possessions, meagre clothing. He’d noticed my difficulties in writing down details while resting papers on my thigh - not only noticed but did something about it. He’d picked up a flattened water bottle box (which were also highly prized as makeshift seats on the gravelly ground) and gave it to me to lean on. This was humbling for me who had everything—I didn’t have to sleep in tent or wear clothes other than my own or be in a place against my choice. Some time later, with the help of an interpreter, I told Uzutallah how grateful I’d been for his help. And in a wonderful piece of ‘coincidence’ I met Uzutallah in Sydney in mid-2014 when I was taking part in the Salvos Red Shield appeal. I’d door-knocked most of a small cul-de-sac when a voice called out, ‘Teacher’. I looked round to see Uzutallah smiling at me from across the road! He knew me only as Teacher from my work in the classroom in those early days. I was astounded - and overjoyed. My time on Nauru taught me that connections and conversations can be had with minimal common language. Where there is intention, connection and conversation are always possible – but it can take courage to make the first step.
In this situation, Uzuttalah was the courageous one.

It takes courage to step out of the wings onto centre stage.

Tue, 19 Jul 2022 23:03:00 GMT

But it’s easier, safer and more comfortable to stay in the wings, watching on from the side line.

When my two older sons were young, I did lots of casual or relief teaching – in Sydney, in the Southern Highlands, and in Goulburn.
I taught classes from the pre-school level through to grade six. I spent some time teaching children with special needs. And I did relief work in our local high school.
This was my teaching career for 15 years.
When my youngest son went to school, I picked up a term’s work at the school he attended and the following year took on a full-time role at his school. I was now the teacher in a multi-grade classroom, programming for and teaching children from ages 5 to 12. All in the one room!
What I hadn’t realised while I’d been doing all that casual and relief teaching was just how much I was learning. I was being given an overview, a bird’s eye view in fact, of how children progress through the stages of learning. And in this new class setting I could see that what I was teaching the grade one children in maths, about addition perhaps, I was teaching the same thing to the 12-year-olds, only at a deeper and higher level.
All that I had learnt about how to work with and teach children of different ages over those 15 years of relief teaching was coalescing into a united whole. The classroom was a vibrant place where different age groups mixed easily, and where children could learn ahead (or behind) their set grade level as needed.
While this was a huge challenge, rather than being overwhelmed I felt like I’d stepped out onto centre stage after years of waiting in the wings. I was no longer the understudy – I was the prima donna. I was doing what I was made for – rising to a challenge with courage and faith in my own abilities. I’ve had to step out of the wings more than once. And each time it’s been easier, safer and more comfortable to stay in the wings, watching on from the side line. Perhaps feeling a little jealous of the star but unwilling – or not yet ready - to take that step into the limelight.
I feel a little like that at the moment. I know my next chance to take centre stage is just around the corner and, as much as I’m ready to step into the spotlight, I’m a little hesitant as well. But when the time is right I’ll take a deep breath, step forward with confidence with my arms spread wide.
It does take courage to step out of the wings onto centre stage.
But I do courage.

It takes courage to set up new ways of doing business.

Mon, 18 Jul 2022 21:53:00 GMT

I’ve been convinced for a while now that women do things differently to men.

Duh! I hear you say, shaking your head.
Let me expand on that idea: Business, academia, the sciences, the arts, education, sport – all fields of endeavour – have been shaped, inhabited and controlled by men for millennia.
Makes sense. Traditionally, men have been the ones who worked outside the home while women worked inside the home.
In the last 100 years or so, women have been inching their way into all these spaces. Some have earned themselves international accolades(think Marie Curie) or led nations - Indira Gandhi, Angela Merkel, and Golda Meir Others, like Elizabeth Gould, have been overlooked, overshadowed by their husband’s achievements (Elizabeth Gould was the illustrator for all of her husband John’s amazing ornithological publications).
But in all their endeavours, women have had to fit themselves into the shapes and structures made by men. They have had to ‘play’ by the accepted rules of the ‘sandpit’ without knowing what those rules were or really how to ‘play the game’.
And all this is understandable and is in no way a criticism of the structures and processes men have put in place. But making ‘space’ for women has been hard – both for the men, who can see this as a zero-sum game (I have to lose for you to win) and for women who have often bent themselves out of shape to fit in.
There is, however, another way that women have been finding for years but, at this point in history, are really making their own. It began with women like Melbourne’s Alice Anderson who, in the 1920s, ran businesses of their own - Alice established the first motor service in Australia run entirely by women, including car repairs and chauffeuring (an early Shebah perhaps?). And it’s gained super momentum during the pandemic as women, laid off more quickly than their male counterparts during lockdowns, established businesses of their own.
But it’s more than just building our own businesses and I return to my original statement: I’m convinced that women do things differently to men. Women need to own their different ways of thinking – not better or worse than men, just different.
Women must learn to trust their different ways of thinking and follow up on their hunches and intuition – especially if all their lives they’ve been taught that the way men do things is the right way.
It takes courage to set up new ways of doing business. And women are known for their courage.

It takes courage to lead from behind.

Wed, 13 Jul 2022 21:51:00 GMT

True leadership doesn't depend on position.

It takes courage to challenge long-held beliefs.

Fri, 08 Jul 2022 00:00:00 GMT

What did you grow up believing?
No, I’m not talking about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy. Those are stories we outgrow.
I’m thinking more of the stories we take with us into adulthood about who we are, our place in the world, what we should or shouldn’t do, what we can or cannot be. I’m thinking of the stories that shape the perceptions we have of ourselves. The stories that shape the perceptions others have of us. The stories that we live by.
Let me tell you one of my stories.
I grew up in a conservative Christian family. My mum and dad both worked for The Commonwealth Bank when they met but, once they married, Mum had to relinquish her position – in the early 1950s married women were not able to hold a position as they were potentially taking a job from a married man with a family to support.
As their eldest child, there were unwritten expectations that I absorbed as norms for my life – including that marriage and children were the prime role for women. And I did just that. I left my role as a teacher when we started to ‘try’ for a family, and raising my sons became the focus of my life.
I’m not denigrating that role. It is a wonderful and fulfilling role.
But if I felt I had other choices I would have chosen another course – a greater focus on academia and much less on getting married and having a family. It took a troubled marriage that I couldn’t save, no matter how hard I tried, separation and divorce for me to really consider that I could shape a new story for my life - that I no longer needed to live within the parameters and boundaries my family and faith culture told me were the only options for women.
It takes courage to challenge long-held beliefs. It takes courage to examine what we’ve believed and decide if it remains true, helpful, useful or appropriate for our lives. And then it takes courage to step away from those long-held beliefs and forge a new story. But it can be done. I did it.
Do you need to have #courageous #conversations in your workplace? Talk to me. I curate courageous conversations in the workplace to navigate changes in culture.
Do you have a gap in the speaker line-up for your next conference or in-house event? Talk to me. I speak about accessing courage to move from equity to equilibrium.

Learning about bias off the back of others' suffering.

Tue, 26 Apr 2022 23:33:00 GMT

I shared my story of confronting my biases with a Hala Abdelnour, a new connection, recently.
I spoke of being challenged to look at my racism and white privilege, and of how my experience with asylum seekers on Nauru changed the trajectory of my life.
Then I heard these four words…”off the back of…” Those words cut deep into my soul.
I knew, cognitively, that I’d worked in a refugee camp run by the Australian government. I knew that I was able to come and go at will, as those detained did not. I knew that people were suffering trauma at our hands; that such treatment was persecution by policy. And I knew that in that place I had come to understand that I held racist views and I saw white privilege clearly.
But, the price of that understanding was off the back of other people’s suffering. That is privilege at its ultimate!
I can’t change any of this. It all happened on the past. But, as one song writer penned it….”Now that I have seen, I am responsible.” I am responsible to listen to and believe the shared experiences of others, even if it seems foreign to me. I am responsible for being an informed ally, educating myself about my privilege and know that it is real, even when it doesn’t feel like that to me. I am responsible for calling out discrimination where I see it – in my friendship groups, in my circle of influence, on social media, via email. I cannot let the trauma of others, which was a space for educating me, to be wasted.

The Paradox of Bias

Wed, 13 Apr 2022 03:51:00 GMT

Turn the barriers bias can throw up into bridges to connect.

I’ve been focusing on bias as a data point, rather than seeing it as something purely negative.
In doing this, I work to make bias conscious, in myself and for others. By taking this approach, bias is transformed from a barrier to separate people to a bridge to bring them together.
I am operating in a place of paradox.
The thing with paradoxes is that they are places of tension, where two opposing and seemingly mutually exclusive things are held together – in tension. As an able-bodied white person, I will never experience the bias and discrimination that people of colour and those with disabilities regularly face. But as a 66-year-old woman I do know what bias and discrimination in terms of age and gender look like. And therein lies the paradox of being The Bias Specialist. I’m white. I’m able-bodied. And I’m a woman in her older years.
At the core of bias is categorisation which leads to assumptions about what people in various groups can or can’t do and what qualities they have. Some question why it seems there are so many white people facilitating in the unconscious bias and diversity and inclusion space – the implication being that white people, yet again, are the dominant voices and minorities are being edged out or disregarded. My perspective is that as a white person who faces, and speaks candidly about, my racism and white privilege I can help change the viewpoints and actions of the dominant group that sets and supports structures of inequality and injustice and use my privilege to open up spaces for those who don’t have the same opportunities.
On the flip side, being an older person – a baby boomer – people make assumptions about my political leanings, my technological ability, and my capacity to care for the environment that do not actually reflect the truth about my life. And being a woman who was raised in a patriarchal conservative community, I know intimately the limitations placed on women – the disregarding, the silencing, the abuse. I experience bias and discrimination in two areas of my life over which I have no control – my age and my gender.
As The Bias Specialist, I hold together in tension both the privileges that my skin colour and ability afford me and the discrimination that my gender and age open me up to. I can use the understanding and insight that I gain from operating in this place of paradox to turn the barriers that bias can throw up into bridges for people to cross and connect.

Bias and Power

Wed, 26 Jan 2022 23:20:00 GMT

Canberra, as the seat of power, perpetuates the biases the modern nation of Australia was built on. Biases which privilege men over women, white people over indigenous, and all those with darker skins. Such biased principles were the unquestioned standard and norm for their time and while these biased norms are being more widely questioned in the broader community, within the ‘Canberra Bubble’ they continue to hold sway.

These biases have been passed down from one generation of men and women to the next – they are inherited. And in the same way as individuals can break generational attitudes and ways of behaving, the inherited biases upon which the nation of Australia is founded must also be questioned. It is imperative that those who have benefitted from these biases are shown just how much they, as much as anyone, have been conditioned in a belief that keeps us chained to the past and is slowly killing us all.

These biases have brought and maintain power, but now they are a burden, not only for those they obviously discriminate against and harm, but also for those they privilege.

The events in Canberra of the last few weeks not only highlight entrenched biases and the ongoing harm they bring to those hurt by them, but they show the burden such biases are to those who benefit by them. Anger and frustration surround the handling of allegations of current and historical rape. Many have railed at the way IWD was co-opted by male politicians in Canberra. Or that days after celebrating IWD a major law firm parted ways with its female CEO because of its connection to Canberra bubble events. Such instances are disappointing and highlight the distance yet to travel in equity for women. We must decry any abuse of power or privilege, but it is necessary to also help those who have benefitted from inherited biases recognising they are just as much chained by these biases as those who are harmed by them.
Those who have benefitted from generational and inherited biases are suffering from a hardening of the moral and ethical arteries. It doesn’t take much to observe the disconnect between stated values and behaviour among some politicians. Not does it take a particularly astute person to note that the personal circumstances of family and relationships are insufficient to overcome inherited and unquestioned biases. However, there is now a strong sense that the tide is turning, that the tipping point is moving ever closer - the March 4 Women is one such indicator. Part of turning the tide is to show those who benefit from the power that entrenched biases bring that those same biases are now much more of a hindrance than a help. Most of us are not altruistic enough to make personal and systemic changes for the good of others. But we will strive to change when we see the benefits for ourselves.
One way in which entrenched and traditional biases hurt those who wield their power is that such biases create a burden of irreparable harm to reputational trust. Politicians have been increasingly viewed as untrustworthy and unreliable, particularly when their words and actions run counter to what the wider community expects.
I’m old enough to remember when politicians were generally liked and trusted, but those days are long gone. A reason for this is that when politicians were liked in the past it was because their values reflected the values of the population. Now, the values of the broader community have shifted dramatically but the politicians have not kept up with this shift.
Clinging to out-dated positions based on inherited biases is an untenable position for those whose role is to serve this nation.
Second, defending these biases is unsustainable as society outside the bubble increasingly demands change at the highest level. The biases defended by the bubble are now deemed inappropriate and dangerous. Clinging to these out-dated biases requires greater levels of energy from those seeking to defend them. Take, for example, the regularity with which our senior leaders are being asked to reassess their position on dealing with the allegations of historical rape. The questions are not going away. And the time and energy spent on rebuttal, refutation and refusal saps energy and is a distraction from the real business of parliament.
Clinging to out-dated thinking, digging in on a preconceived position, defending an inherited bias, is not a sign of a government in touch with 21st century Australia.
Finally, maintaining the bias status quo is taking an increasing toll on relationships and health as seen in two ministers on leave around physical and mental health arising directly from these events. Fielding questions and accusations is exhausting but is part and parcel of political life. However, the questions and allegations addressed to both male and female politicians have resulted in them requiring leave.
Propping up the status quo is not only exhausting, but also potentially a killer - both physically and politically.
Continuing to support inherited biases is becoming harder and harder especially, as I suspect, at least one of these politicians may be seriously questioning the stance they have taken and supported in the past.
The nation of Australia was founded on biased principles that were accepted in their time. They are no longer acceptable in the broader Australian society. It is time for the Canberra bubble to burst and for biases that privilege, discriminate and abuse to be archived for the health of the nation and those who seek to serve it.

Covert bias impacts organisations

Tue, 01 Dec 2020 23:11:00 GMT

As children, we’ve all dropped a stone into a pond and seen the ripples expand outward, getting larger and larger with each concentric circle.

Writing for Forbes Magazine, Dr. Melinda Fouts expands on this idea about the unforeseen impacts of bias when she writes that, “Even when consciously making a decision, hidden biases influence good decision making, and like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, there is a ripple effect from that decision that can impact many areas. If you are in a leadership role, that ripple effect can result in multiple consequences in an organization.”

When it comes to making decisions, leaders need to understand that unacknowledged and unaddressed bias hampers the clarity needed to make decisions. This happens because bias clouds our thinking and introduces irrelevant constraints, such as a person’s nationality, language or faith background, gender or disability, weight or age. These factors, which are purely external, are unconsciously given credence over looking at all that a person or an option has to offer.

More than this, unconscious bias also undermines the values we hold dear because bias works against our conscious belief systems and privileges compromise. We can consciously believe one thing about ourselves or others, and still hold an unknown bias which has the ability to compromise those values. When this bias remains unacknowledged, it is easier to choose the route of compromise over the one that aligns with our values, because the latter challenges how we see ourselves. We therefore stay within our comfortable boundaries rather than taking an active step out into the unknown.

When a leader, who is aware that they have biases, is called on to make a decision, a vital step to mitigate the risks that biases impose is to ask the next question. And that question is a version of ‘Who does this decision hurt?’ or ‘Who does this decision overlook?’ For example, if a person is being considered for a promotion and the quick decision is to dismiss them as a candidate because they’re in their late 50s, stop and consider whether their age presents any real restriction on their ability to do the job well. The same can be applied to any other external constraint. Is their skin colour really a bar to them doing the job well? Or, if a policy or system is being put in place, stop and ask that next question – have I considered all perspectives here or am I making a quick judgment based solely on my outlook or experience of life?

Unacknowledged bias can really kill our ability to choose. And if we’re a leader, good decision-making is vital. Just like that stone dropped into the pond, unaddressed bias has a ripple effect that flows out through businesses and corporations, impacting staff, leadership, clients and customers, and, ultimately, the bottom line. Leaders must make decisions. They can make better decisions when they stop that ripple effect at the very beginning by not allowing the pebble of bias to fall into the lake of decision-making.

Through the Eyes of a Child

Wed, 19 Aug 2020 01:23:00 GMT

I was 10, maybe 12, when I first realised that I could only see through my eyes.

Bias is all about how we see the world. Bias involves the stories we tell ourselves about other people. Bias is about perception, perspective, preference and prejudice. Bias tells us that people who are different – in age, race, skin colour, accent, language, faith, size, ability, gender – are somehow less-than us. Bias separates us from each other. Bias hurts and, at times, kills.
When we’re children, it’s quite normal to expect that everyone sees things as we do. We think that the way we see the world is the only way to see the world. As we get older, and hopefully more mature, we begin to realise that not everyone sees things the way we do. We start to notice that different families have different ways of looking at life. We begin to hear different opinions to the ones we’ve grown up with. And our teen years are the classic time when we either affirm the values and outlooks of our families or we rebel against them and explore new ways of being in the world.
Even when we’ve rebelled against the strictures of family, long-held and unconscious biases hold sway, shaping our perception of other people. These hidden perceptions influence the perspectives we develop around who is trustworthy, who is reliable, and who is worthy. When it comes to making decisions, both instantaneous and considered, our perspectives affect the preferences we have with regard to relationships, both personal and in the workplace. And, sadly, our preferences can harden into prejudices that exclude, discriminate and disadvantage.
It all begins with how we see, what we see, and the stories we shape out of that seeing. Building awareness of bias allows us to see what has been hidden in plain sight. Understanding the impact of bias enables the development of fairer and more just workplaces. Addressing bias involves dismantling systems and structures that discriminate and implementing policies and procedures that favour equity across the board. And it all starts with seeing through the eyes of others. Seeing through the eyes of a child.

Where does a passion to address injustice begin?

Mon, 20 Jan 2020 03:04:00 GMT

I was on my feet.

My year 9 classmates couldn’t believe their eyes. The A student was taking the teacher to task, defending a classmate against what I saw as an unjust accusation. The girl accused of poor behaviour towards a visiting student teacher was no angel. But on this occasion, she hadn’t been at fault and I felt she’d been singled out unfairly. This is my first memory of being stirred by injustice.

Fast forward 30 years.

My middle son was once again complaining about the unfairness of his life – he didn’t have the freedoms his brother four years his senior enjoyed, and I held him accountable for behaviour that I let slide with the other brother who was seven years younger. My mantra, as usual, in response to his accusations of unfairness was “fair doesn’t mean equal.”

Two decades on again, it’s still injustice and inequity that drives me. And I draw on a lifetime of working with people on the margins, where injustice is most readily experienced.

On my years working with children with disabilities – of the joys of the small steps that were actually huge.

I draw on my time as a chaplain in aged care, and the privilege of being with a man as he slipped from time into eternity.

And, as a Salvo, supporting a woman struggling with schizophrenia to navigate the public housing system to find a place to live where she felt safe and not under threat.

I know how deeply I’ve been changed by working with asylum seekers on Nauru –

* sitting by the bedside of a man on a hunger strike with his lips sewn together in protest at his treatment by our government,

* building a relationship with a couple from Iran who were so traumatised that the young wife could barely talk, and

* holding a memorial service for a Hindu couple whose baby was drowned when the boat they were fleeing to Australia on started to sink.

It was while working on Nauru that my #biases of racism and white privilege showed themselves, #biases that did not fit with my personal values and how I saw myself, but which operated unconsciously none-the-less. It was only as I recognised that my biases existed parallel to my beliefs and values that I had the choice – to operate intentionally out of my values or to allow my #unconsciousbiases to drive my decision-making. Because I was now recognising that #bias lies beneath all inequity and injustice.

As The Bias Specialist, I take all that experience and insight coupled with input from Forbes, HBR, University of Pennsylvania and McKinsey, to equip businesses, corporations, government departments, industry associations and not-for-profits to address the #bias that creates toxic culture, damages relationships, impairs decision-making and impacts the bottom line.

Now, I use my passion for justice to fuel my goal of making bias conscious so that inequity and injustice might become things of the past. A lofty goal I know. But…what the heck…shoot for the stars!

What drives you?

What are you shooting

What is unconscious bias? The Bias Specialist

The Power That Holds The World

Vision without Visibility

Learning to Trust Timing in Leadership and Growth

Power Without Control

Liminal Is Not Waiting: A Month Without Orientation

The Words That Shape the World We Live In

The Invisible Rules I Am Stepping Out Of

New Title

When Hope Requires Self-Betrayal

The Weight of Small Wounds

When the Heart Dances First

The Gentle Art of Becoming

The Gentle Work of Becoming

An Invitation to You

When Objectivity is an Illusion - and why it matters for power.

Embracing Ageing: A Cultural Act of Rebellion

The Gift of the Storm

Sometimes the clouds gather more than once before we understand what they're trying to show us.

When The Air Feels Heavy

From Lone Wolf to Living Web

A New Model of Quiet Leadership

I Am the Script

Laying Down the Mirror

A Life Reclaimed

Reclaiming Myself

The Quiet Undoing of Self-Erasure

True poser is more than positional authority

True Power is far more than Positional Authority.

Identifying Barriers to Inclusivity in the Workplace

What's stopping my team from being fully inclusive?

What can we learn from The Patchwork Girl?

What can we learn from The Patchwork Girl?

The Ghost of Christmas Past

Can we lay these ghosts to rest?

Personal Branding and Reinventing Yourself Online

Ageism

A Pervasive Bias Across Cultures

Everything Everywhere All At Once

Embracing Our Unique Passions

Embracing Our Unique Passions

We Can't See Past Our Own Blindspots

The Importance of Acknowledging Our Limited Perspectives

Inviting Connection

The Power of Perspective in Meaningful Dialogue

Swimming Beyond Unconscious Bias

Embracing the Journey from Fish to Frog

Navigating the Mind's Maze

The Dance Between Fast and Slow Thinking

Shattering Illusions

Unravelling the Parallel Worlds of Bias and Logical Thought

Embracing the Paradox

Navigating Unconscious Bias and Values

Can I still be sexist even if love the women in my life?

The short answer is: yes!

Why do we hate racism?

Why do we hate racism?

Because it goes against our understanding of a shared humanity.

Why do that?

It's about helping people understand themselves better.

Embracing Authentic Confidence

Breaking Through Gendered Expectations

Embracing Authentic Leadership

A Journey of Power for Women

Embracing the Transformative Trilogy of Easter

Easter is a testament to the transformative power of love,

﻿ the sanctity of waiting, and the boundless hope found in resurrection.

Unravelling Narratives

The Serpent, Pandora, and the Blame Game

Another Way to Lead

The Pyramid of Authentic Leadership

Reclaiming International Women's Day

A Call for Diversity, Equity, and Authenticity

The Three Voices of Women

Rage, Wisdom, and Encouragement

Focusing My Voice

Navigating the Allure of Versatility

Finding My Voice

A Journey of Self-Discovery and Power

Embracing the Power of My Voice

the sanctity of waiting, and the boundless hope found in resurrection.