Conducting an annual review is not new, but it’s new to me. While I’m generally keen on journaling and contemplative practices, which foster reflections and can help new ideas burgeon, I’d never formally gone to the length of writing a recap of the previous year, nor sharing it. I can’t recall where I heard about this as a practice, perhaps Tim Ferriss or James Clear (of Atomic Habits). But it’s been floating around in my mind for a while, and this week, I thought: yes, let’s do it. If reflecting on the past can help with the future, it feels like time well spent.
With a little Bento group (Bentoism is a brilliant lens through which to make life decisions), we trialled a shorter version of this exercise, armed with pen and paper. If I remember correctly, the timer was set to ten minutes to allow us to go back through our previous year’s calendar. The idea was to jot notes as we travelled through memory lane, allowing us to remind ourselves of meaningful achievements and events (happy or otherwise) that had peppered our year.
Why not try that again? I travelled from January to December, clicking the right arrow, moving week to week, revisiting the past as it filled my screen. While doing so, I picked up on a vibe. It felt a little uncomfortable.
Perhaps I’d expected to see more, or bigger achievements come up in front of my eyes? I’ve certainly felt satisfied with my year, if not fulfilled. However, it was another difficult one. Many of you may have that same aftertaste. War, inflation, recession, women’s rights being trampled on and democracies struggling. And that’s before we look at our personal lives.
The unease remained until I started to go deeper, and write about the topics that emerged as meaningful, a year on, looking back.
If you wonder why I’m choosing to share my thoughts here, making them public is my way of showing that I believe in this exercise. I’ve read somewhere (I wish I remembered the source now) that the Western human mind is particularly motivated by the wins, the successes we’ve achieved, but onlyI those of our very recent past, aka we feel good (or bad) about what happened yesterday. Whatever comes earlier tends to be forgotten or simply overlooked. So this annual review is a way to bypass what I see as a system flaw and embrace, revisit and perhaps draw lessons from the past.
It’s not necessary to compare our achievements to objectives or resolutions; at least, that’s my position, though you can choose to do that too. More important still is to look at the year ahead and ask ourselves what we want to make of the new one. Fast forward to the end if you want to see how I go about that.
A new year is like a new day. We get to press the reset button and start over in a way. Given that we’ve just celebrated the advent of the Lunar New Year of the Rabbit, I encourage you to crack on and try this out for yourself, if only to jog your memory and perhaps cheer your accomplishments.
Okay, here we go.
COACHING, COACHING, COACHING
In a twist of fate I couldn’t have predicted five years, or even three years ago, I have started to build my coaching practice. Yep, a practice bridging coaching, consulting and storytelling. I went about it slowly and steadily. I’d be lying if I said it was thriving, because, as a matter of fact, after an exceptionally good spring, things have been very slow since the autumn, and I’m not the only one seeing this happen with my business. Yikes.
Being particularly uncomfortable with self-promotion, I was grateful to have the Mettā View (in its Mailchimp version) to publicly reflect on what makes coaching an important, effective and fascinating practice to me as a coach and a coaching client. And I’m even more grateful to all of the clients who (I think bar one or two exceptions) have gone on to recommend me to their friends in need of help. Word of mouth tends to be a marker of satisfied clients, at least that’s what I hear, so I’m choosing to take this as a compliment.
Boldly, if a bit early, I also started to offer free online group coaching sessions last year. While they require a lot of planning, I love the thoughtfulness necessary to build a workshop. They’re important because, as I had learned for myself, we learn from each other. Hearing someone else's take on the same topic or question can open up a world of possibilities. I plan to build on this further.
Finally, I ended the year as a certified Wayfinder Life Coach. Ta-dah!
I’ll add that while it’s not necessary to be certified to coach, I’m a bit of a nerd and I like the challenge. Furthermore, as I shared with a master coach just yesterday, I appreciate how certification programs and exams not only force me to revisit key learnings but keep me close to the ethical guidelines of ICF. More certifications coming this year, if all goes well. I believe in practice, which is essentially what these are good for. That and mentorship.
MINDFUL COMMUNICATION
It’s probably not going to escape the regulars of the Mettā View when I tell you I’ve been trying to build something different with my consulting and coaching practice. So it’s exciting to say that while I’m still teetering like a toddler, I’m moving forward, nonetheless, in integrating coaching and mindfulness into my consulting services - my special blend, so to speak.
Thanks to the help of a couple of great coaches, teachers, and my faithful copy editor and friend, Freddie, I’ve come to reshape my corporate offering to attract the right clients for me: clients who look for meaningful communication and strategy that drives purpose.
Perhaps my favourite piece of work last year was a values workshop I conducted with a brand’s entire team. Despite being on Zoom (the expectations can be low for a two or three hours workshop on that medium), the strength of the founder’s values and company ethos transcended our digital connection.
I’d intentionally crafted the workshop to create an experience for the participants, making it juicy enough to generate personal and group reflection, as well as carving a small moment to integrate what had come out.
We ran out of time, only a little, but the plan worked nonetheless. It felt warm, fuzzy, and emotional; even a little magical. The participants felt imbued with purpose. They reconnected with their personal mission as well as the brand’s.
It certainly connected me to my own purpose. I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll get to do this again, often, and for many more companies. If you know anyone who’d benefit from this work, feel free to put me in touch with them! That’s clearly my sweet spot.
COMMITTED TO OUT OF THE CLOUDS
I must admit that while I’m generally known as reliable (to others and to myself), on occasion, I’ve struggled with deadlines. I’m putting this down to being a glass-half-full kind of person: I always think I have more time. And sometimes, I simply don’t.
If you saw what I try to do in terms of daily output, you’d probably make fun of me. Going further, I know this was a frustrating point for a couple of my direct reports back when I had those kinds of responsibilities. In the first few months of the podcast project, I hid behind a wall of excuses not to keep to the publishing calendar I’d envisioned for Out of the Clouds.
Procrastination showed up when things felt hard (I was learning a new craft) and when I felt shy (as per the above, I don’t love self-promotion, which is far from ideal when you put out work to a new audience). I chose to get over this and be accountable to myself, to show up for this project.
Why a podcast? Why still a podcast? It’s a lot of work; I’m not going to lie. The answer: because I love it. Because talking in depth with interesting people (btw, I should add that everyone is interesting, in case you wondered) is so enriching. I learn so much from each of my guests! I know, this is very self-centred, but I think my listeners get something out of it too! Seeing all these interviews scheduled in my calendar and seeing the diversity of the people I’ve talked to warmed my heart.
Committing to going forward as regularly as I can muster, given my solopreneur status, was significant to me. I’m proud to continue building on this platform and (this is not-so-secret) hope to make Out of the Clouds the podcast a glorious flagship for my work at the crossroads between business and mindfulness. Cheers to that! 🥂
DOUBLE COMMITMENT TO PODCASTING
Yes, because I launched a second podcast, which I need to run and work on after I finish this newsletter. It’s Out of the Clouds Waking Heart, a mindfulness and meditation-only show for those who, like me, love listening to guided practices on their podcasts apps. I only wish I’d had the idea for this two years ago. Better late than never they say.
Oh and the Mettā View’s Looking Forward is also now publicly available via SoundCloud. I guess I’m all in on audio…
MY OBSESSION WITH COURSES FADED (MILDLY)
But just mildly. I haven’t counted how many online and in-person programs I took last year, but it was still in the double digits!
For about two years, I’ve wanted to work on a mindfulness and meditation course. It’s meant to be a side hustle that would also live under the banner of Out of the Clouds. I can’t tell you how much work I’ve already put into creating a program. Or rather multiple programs, because I have so many ideas. But when it comes to production and getting the work out there, I throw myself into something else. My procrastination response is to become productive in another area of my work, so the guilt trip isn’t so bad.
Turns out, I was truly well on my way: I spent a half day recording with the help of a trusted (and paid) advisor who was helping me with video production. I had already prepped BTS clips to layer with the program videos. Here’s what happened with that:
After working on ‘why do a course’ using the five why’s technique (I’m all about using the coaching tools and questions on myself), I realised that all my answers, combined with my personal story and mindfulness knowledge, could become a book. The course(s) can still coexist, but the realisation was so profound that my active procrastination style led me to start writing daily from April onwards. A big surprise, a big commitment, and many more slipped deadlines, but a significant project (still underway) had come to light.
I’m tired of being sold stuff. As much as I love a course, and believe in the benefits of mindfulness, I don’t feel like trying to sell stuff to anyone myself. This part of my work life lives in the ‘creator economy’ and that space is so crowded. To make this project successful, I’d have to sell, market, funnel, etc. That’s the least exciting thing I’ve ever heard. Others may love it, I don't even want to get into it. However, I did launch on Insight Timer. It’s early days on the platform, but at least it’s less hassle than doing it myself.
SEEING MYSELF
Preparing a course had me come to some deep realisations, beyond the above. Eh. That’s what happens when you use the five why’s and record yourself on a video camera.
Watching myself after the shoot, I was appalled at my double chin. Of course, I knew I wasn’t looking like Giselle, but man, I knew that the video would never, ever be released, not unless I could contour and retouch myself into an acceptable version of me.
But I’m joking; I’d never spend my money on that. What I did do, however, is become friends with the camera, and friends with my alter ego, the one in front of the lens. Thankfully, I found a wonderful young photographer called Caitlin Mackie who took my portrait a couple of months later. Slightly less traumatising for my ego than the filming, the result was widely appreciated, and I wrote about it here.
Promptly thereafter I also put myself on a diet. I lost 10 kilos (actually 13kgs but I got very excited by Christmas cookies over the holidays… no regrets!)
It turns out it’s not that I had a slow metabolism; I was just eating wrong. Who knew!? At least now, I have a great nutritionist.
Perhaps seeing myself on the other side of that lens was something I needed to do to kick myself into gear and lose the infamous pandemic 15 (aka the fifteen pounds that were stubbornly anchored to my hips).
MY PUBLIC SPEAKING DEBUT
If you know me, you know I love a TED talk. After the COVID restrictions, I decided to attend local TEDx talks to connect with the local groups, to see what kind of programs they have, and eventually, sneak on stage one of these days. That was all well and good, but if one fancies seeing themselves on stage, one should get some practice underway. After skulking around MeetUp groups online, ta-dah, I found a speaking club, my speaking club, called Impact Toastmasters Geneva. I couldn't have asked for a kinder bunch of people.
Given that my city is home to the UN and many other international organisations, our English-speaking group denotes the diversity to be found in the expat community. It’s rich with laughter, inspiration, and connection. Highly motivated to progress, I delivered five speeches in less than nine months; let’s see if I can do six this year! I also tip my hat to a talented speaker who passed away a few weeks ago. Malcolm Clarke was a near stranger to me, except that we were in that same public speaking group. The first night I attended as a guest, I found him so exquisitely talented and laughed so hard at his table topics impromptu speech; I’m sure he was at least 50% of the reason I signed up to be a member. I hope I’ll make him proud. May he rest in peace.
THE BITTER STUFF
When projects dear to my heart don't come to fruition, it’s a little hard to swallow, but I’m good at self-reflection, and I can tell whether I need to let it go or work on my timing and reset the deadlines.
However, the harder thing is when we burn bridges with collaborators and friends. We may have the best intentions, but life gets complicated, communication gets muddled and we lose each other. From a small fight, we start by giving each other space, then space turns to lengthy silence. And suddenly people who are important to us are no longer a part of our life, and we need to choose whether to try to salvage some kind of relationship or move on.
I’m a little sensitive around this because I lost a couple of friends last year (not dead, we just went our separate ways) and I also lost connection with an ex-flame who I hoped would be my whole inner circle, not just a part of it. I’m certainly aware of my own responsibility in how these relationships panned out, and I can’t help but to bitterly acknowledge this as part of the events that marked my year.
Also, beloved clients chose to close their doors and halt their activity. Whilst these developments were charged with emotions, I was proud to be able to offer some support in trying moments. I certainly learned from others’ wisdom. Even though that kind of major shift often feels shameful and terrifying for those involved, there is much courage involved in letting go and much beauty in making room for what will come next.
MY SIDEKICK WENT TO HEAVEN & MORE FAMILY ADVENTURES
Ah, I can’t write about it without tears filling my eyes, so I’ll just refer you to this post so you can read about how I also lost my beloved sidekick Fifi. The gap she left in my life was deep, and unexpectedly I found myself filling it with two new kittens, Lalah and Kellan, only three months after she left this earth. And then I had this great idea: what if I got a puppy?? Having always wanted to have cats and dogs, I figured, why not do it while they are all tiny?
Whaaaat? You may say, if you didn’t know about this. Cats are easy. I’m as fluent in cat as I am in English. But the puppy, oh that was a major, major challenge. I mean, he is the sweetest little thing. Originally apricot coloured, this baby Cavapoo (Cavalier King Charles and Poodle mix) has now taken on a golden coat, and at seven months old, he is now an emancipated teenager and I miss the days when he was clinging to my every step. Oh, how fast it goes.
I couldn’t have challenged myself more than to get a puppy while building the coaching, consulting, podcast, etc. The most exciting and loving wild ride I’ve had in a while, Nandi, as he is called, up-ended my calendar and challenged me in ways I’d not thought possible. It turns out I like a clean and organised environment, and I have three pets under the age of one. I mean…
The puppy Nandi is a walking metaphor and was also my trial run because I’ve wanted to be a mum for a long time. What looks like an eccentric idea (three pets) was actually the first stage of building the family I’ve always wanted. Stay tuned for the next additions to said family.
AND THAT’S THE END!
Yes, that’s the end of my review for 2022. And you may wonder: ooh! what’s next?
Gosh, there’s so much I need to work on. I’m about to use my corporate methodology on myself, so I’ll get back to you on that next week.
Meanwhile, here are two worthwhile questions we can ask ourselves to see meaningful change in the coming months:
What do you want less of this year?
What do you want more of?
For me, I want less worry about the future. I’m not sure how exactly I can achieve this; perhaps more letting go and being in the present can do the trick.
And what I want more of? I want more nights out with good friends and more public speaking (mine and other people’s - which I know will happen since I’ll be attending TED in Vancouver this April). I want more love in my life, more family and friends around me.
I certainly want more great clients: the ones who believe what I believe, whether they are individuals or corporate companies, who have a mission, like I do, to make the world at least a little bit better.
Thanks for reading me, as always.
Until next week.
Love the family portrait!! Great piece as ever.