Making Sense of the Mess

Ever feel like it’s not just your job that’s heavy, it’s everything?

The economy. The climate. The injustices.
And somehow, we’re still expected to show up, lead, and deliver.

But underneath the meetings and momentum, there’s a quieter truth:
Many of us are carrying more than we realise.
Not just internal pressure, but the collective weight of instability, injustice, and uncertainty.

We’ve been living with a steady hum of it for a while now.
And for many leaders I work with, and for myself too, there’s a quiet wondering:

How do we keep showing up when it all feels too much?
How do we stay connected to ourselves in the middle of it all?

I’ve always been good at compartmentalising.

It’s something I learned early, like many people who grew up in spaces where it didn’t feel appropriate to fall apart.
That skill served me well in high-intensity settings. You learn to stay focused. To get the job done, no matter what’s happening around you.

And for a long time, that strategy worked.

In humanitarian roles, I’d travel into situations that were emotionally tough. I could stay composed and present in the moment. And then, on the plane ride home, the floodgates would open. I’d cry quietly somewhere in the sky between countries, suspended in the in-between where I finally let go of what I'd been holding in. I’d land, ready to reconnect with friends and family. I’d made space for the feelings, just on a delay.

But what I’ve come to understand is that compartmentalisation only works when there’s an “off-switch.” A moment to release, to reset, to re-enter your own emotional world.

And right now, for many of us, that moment never arrives.

For those who live where they work, who are raising families while holding teams through chaos, who are leading inside their own communities, there’s often no transition space at all.

You move from crisis call to dinner prep. From war zone to weekend.
The pressure to keep it together doesn’t lift, so it turns inward.
We don’t want to burden others, so we hold it all in.

But over time, that kind of holding becomes a quiet erosion.

It shows up in how present we are.
How much energy we have left to give.
How short our fuse is, even with the people we care most about.
And how disconnected we can become from the purpose that brought us here in the first place.

In a podcast the other day, a line landed so clearly I had to stop and sit with it.
Esther Perel defines playfulness as:

“When risk and uncertainty become fun.”

And I found myself asking, when was the last time uncertainty felt even a little bit fun?

We’ve been so serious for so long.
Understandably so.
The world is serious. The vicarious trauma is real.

But I wonder if we’ve lost something in the process.

Not silliness. Not false positivity.
But the ability to breathe deeper in the unknown.
To hold space for curiosity, creativity, lightness.

Not as a distraction. As a way back to ourselves.

This week’s Leadership Reflection Journal is a space to pause and check in.

What are you holding that’s actually yours to carry?
What might belong to the world, or to someone else?
And what has been missing lately that used to bring you lightness?

→ Download the reflection page here

We are living and leading in a time that asks a lot of us.
But we don’t have to carry it all the same way we always have.

There is room for depth and lightness.
For seriousness and play.
For holding others and returning to yourself.

Even when things feel messy, it is still possible to lead with clarity, connection, and care.
Especially then.

✨ What started early is growing on purpose

I launched Touching Distance before I felt fully “ready”, during a time when the sector was shaking, and clarity felt in short supply.

Looking back, I’m glad I did.

Since then, I’ve been walking alongside incredible leaders and teams, holding space for what’s real, complex, and sometimes messy.
And in parallel, I’ve been quietly shaping what’s next, a bolder, more spacious version of what Touching Distance is here to do.

Soon, you’ll see a refreshed look and a clearer invitation.
More connection. More courage. More room to reflect, recalibrate, and lead with your whole self.

It’s still me. Still you. But it’s becoming something more, and I can’t wait to show you.

Thank you for being here.

If this week's newsletter stirred something in you, a feeling, a question, a quiet recognition, I’d love to hear what you’re holding or how this is showing up in your world right now.

We don’t have to carry it all the same way we always have.
Even when it’s messy, we can lead with clarity, connection, and care.
Especially then.

With you,
Linda
Touching Distance | Within Reach