@Jenni Parker Brown Do you mean I should look to replace the word "help"? If so, yes, I can play with that and come up with something less tired... I'm also still playing with the terminology in my single-sentence statement about what I do. The word "agility" is coming up for me a lot as I work through this process - what do you think about the following options: - The Strategic Agility Method - The Agility Advantage - The Agility Reset And how does this land: Strategic Agility is performing at your highest level — without strain — because nothing unnecessary is weighing you down.

Or, an even cleaner and more "agile" description would be...: "Strategic Agility is high-level performance without strain." I'm resistant to building a "program" because that feels very prescriptive and less bespoke. But I like the idea of empowering clients to build a discipline of agility by removing everything that's currently creating drag in their lives! "Strategic Agility is a disciplined way of designing your life so excellence remains light."

Thanks, Jenni!

That's a powerful shift, Carol! I applaud your courage in taking action in spite of the voice of fear. 💥

What unsettles me most right now isn’t these visibility platforms themselves, but the emptiness that seems to be growing around them. I notice how easily performance starts to replace presence, how often sounding impressive matters more than being useful, and how quickly we’re encouraged to keep producing even when there is very little left that feels genuinely new or alive. There's a concept from philosopher Jean Baudrillard called "simulacrum" that seems apt here. He used the story of people living on a map to explain what happens when pictures and descriptions start to matter more than real life. At first, the map is just a guide to help people understand the land they inhabit. Over time, though, people trust the map so much that they stop paying attention to what is actually around them in real life. Eventually, they organise their lives by the map instead of by their own experience, and the map *becomes* their reality. The real world is still there, but it fades into the background because no one is really looking at it anymore. I feel that social media works in a similar way today, when posts, images, and performances begin to feel more real and important than the lives they are supposed to reflect. We’re surrounded by posts that resemble insight, images that resemble people, and conversations that resemble connection, but often without much substance underneath. The "system" we find ourselves functioning within rewards replication over deep reflection, and highly-polished personas over genuine presence. The result is a landscape full of echoes, where it becomes harder and harder to locate something that feels grounded in lived experience. Because of that, I find myself wanting a quieter way of being here. I don't want to disappear exactly, and I'm not retreating in disillusionment, but I find myself craving a different pace and tone. I don’t want to speak simply because the algorithm expects me to. I want to speak when there’s something that has actually been thought through, lived with, and earned.

Love it! Thanks, Jenni!