Hope is often treated as a soft word, a pleasant feeling that arrives when things are going well. Psychology tells a different story. Hope is one of the most practical, measurable, and teachable resources people have, and it matters most when circumstances are hardest.

This month, the Global Psychology Alliance (GPA) gathered in Tirana, Albania, for our 4th global summit, and it was our largest yet. Psychologists from six continents came together with a shared purpose: to put our science and our practice to work on the UN Sustainable Development Goals. I’m still processing everything we shared, and I wanted to capture some of it while it’s fresh.

Growth is usually something we celebrate. More people, more opportunities, greater reach and, hopefully, greater impact. But in my work and study of leaders and organisations, I find myself returning to a question: what happens to the founding principles and people of the organisation when originally founded?

There have been many moments in my work with leaders and teams when I have reflected on the things we say, and the things we leave unsaid. The concern we don't raise. The question we don't ask. The behaviour we notice but choose not to challenge. I have seen how easily good people stay silent, not because they don't care, but because they care deeply about the consequences. For most people, fear is at the heart of their silence.

September has a strange gravitational pull. For myself, and many of my clients, even years after school ended, it still feels like the "real" new year — more than January ever does. The light changes, routines reset, and there's a collective sense of right, back to it. That makes it a genuinely good moment to reset how you work and live, not just what's on your calendar. Too often though I’ve seen clients approach burn out at this time of year, but there are some simple techniques we can cultivate to avoid this happening.

Transitions test communication pure and simple. Over 25 years, I have supported clients with a range of small and large transitions, and every thing in between. Consistently, I have found that communication is a key component in how smoothly the transition goes for all involved . A new job, a house move, a return from leave, a restructure, a season change in family life - the practical logistics are often the easy part. What's harder is saying what's actually going on, to the people who need to hear it, in a timely way that keeps and promotes trust. So here's what I have found works in thinking about transitions at home and at work. And also how organisations can set themselves up to support their staff in transition also.

A few years ago I set out to answer a question that kept showing up in my coaching room: why do some of the most "successful" leaders I work with — the ones with the title, the salary, the seat at the table — still feel like they're quietly falling apart? I’m sharing the answers on my Instagram page this summer, and how they relate to you.

Most organisations are, without meaning to be, designed to keep people in a low-grade state of threat. Back-to-back meetings with no buffer. Slack notifications that demand instant response. Open-plan offices with no visual or acoustic refuge. Performance reviews that trigger the same physiological alarm bells as physical danger once did.

It hits me around the same time every year. The school bags come home for the last time, the kids are buzzing, everyone around me seems to be posting sun-drenched photos and talking about barbecues and beach days — and somewhere underneath all of that, there's this low hum of quiet panic. How am I going to manage this?

My Dad died unexpectedly a few weeks ago. My second parent. I grieved my mum in my early 20s, and now 22 years later my Dad. I’ve worked with clients and workplaces over the years, supporting the personal nature of grief, and supporting the systems which facilitate employees in their grief. This renewal of my grief has gotten me further thinking.

As we move towards summer, there’s often a swift uplift. Energy lifts. Diaries fill. Social plans increase. Work doesn’t slow down - if anything, it speeds up to meet deadlines before holidays begin.

Is this for you or someone you know? I am currently recruiting and carrying out selection interviews for the Coach Institute of Ireland’s next programme, beginning October 2026. This is a programme I have completed myself, and have taught on for many years. It’s AMAZING!

In literally every organisation I talk to, they tell me that they have too many meetings, no control over their own diaries, and no time to “get the work done”. Many begin talking about productivity as though it is their primary problem at work, but I don’t see it that way. Rather I see it as being a work design issue.

From discussions with my clients recently, I’ve noticed that there is something quietly fracturing in the world of work. Not loudly. Not dramatically. But steadily, persistently, and almost invisibly. People are not walking out en masse. They are not always burning out in obvious ways. My clients and I call it… “reassessing.” And at the centre of it all is something most organisations have not named, let alone addressed: The psychological contract is broken.

Many organisations believe they have a productivity issue. In reality, they have an attention issue. I call it the “Culture of Constant Interruption.” Meeting overload - Instant messaging expectations - Back to back calls - Multitasking as a badge of honour. These practices erode cognitive depth. When teams cannot focus, quality drops. Creativity narrows. Strategic thinking becomes reactive. And relationally, people stop feeling heard.

Your attention is your Leadership Currency. I hear a lot of talk about time management, but in my experience attention is the real currency. Time is fixed. Attention is chosen. Where your attention goes, your energy follows. And where your energy goes, connection and productivity either strengthens or weakens.

Our nervous systems were not designed for the volume of information we now absorb each day. They evolved for immediate environments, face-to-face connection and short bursts of stress. Not for 24-hour news cycles, constant alerts, global crises and an expectation of continuous availability.

Hope can feel fragile right now. For many of my clients, including those in leadership roles, it is not optimism that is missing but energy. When the world feels unstable, unjust or overwhelming, motivation for change can quietly drain away. Why try, when so much feels beyond our influence is a common question I am being asked.

We spend a lot of time talking about saying yes to opportunities, growth and possibility. In leadership and organisational cultures especially, yes is often rewarded. Availability, responsiveness and stretch are framed as markers of commitment and competence. Much less time is spent honouring the quiet intelligence of a clear no.

January often arrives carrying a heavy backpack of expectations. New year, new you, big goals, radical change. It is no wonder that many of us feel quietly overwhelmed before the month has properly begun.