Would you like to develop more creative confidence? Have you ever embarked on, or considered, a sketching practice?

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, we explore the link between the two in conversation with artist, printmaker, and creative coach Sam Marshall.

Sam is based here in the UK and has recently released a beautiful book called Sketch: A Project Guide To Drawing With Confidence. I was fortunate enough to receive a digital copy last year and honestly, wow. It inspires, equips, and gently mentors people to start a drawing practice and engage with their natural creativity.

What I love most about the book is its emphasis on helping you find your own creative voice. This is supported by Sam’s Sketch Squad, a small group of participants who work through the exercises together. Seeing the same prompts interpreted in wildly different ways has a surprisingly powerful effect. For me, the most helpful part was witnessing the sheer range of styles, approaches, and ways of noticing the world.

https://youtu.be/yfiDlMKtMQA Creative Confidence and the Beauty of Difference

A huge part of creative confidence is realising that differences in how we see, what we notice, and what we care about are not flaws.

This is why art and creativity sit at the heart of being human. Creative expression is our collective humanity experiencing itself in all its weird and wonderful variety. I was reminded of this recently while talking about map-making as a way to understand our relationship with different areas of life. If you give the same prompt to 100 people, you do not get a single map done well. You get a hundred completely different maps.

That is what I hope people take into and out of this conversation. Difference is beautiful. It is not about doing it right. What Sam offers through this book is a sketching practice that gives us tracks along which to see, feel, and experience the world in a more alive and interesting way than when we are stuck in ultra-productivity mode, trying to make everything efficient and easy.

Why a Sketching Practice Builds Creative Confidence

A drawing practice helps us slow down, observe, and engage our creative spirit through process rather than outcome.

There is something gently rebellious about sketching in the digital age, where the default response is to pull out a phone and take a photo. There is a difference between capturing something quickly so we can hoard and move on, and drawing as a way of anchoring ourselves in the environment.

Drawing asks us to stay. To notice. To let time pass while the world happens around us. Light shifts. Shadows move. People come and go. Smells, sounds, and sensations change. Rather than consuming the environment, we are engaging with it.

Sam shares a lovely story about drawing in public and finding herself surrounded by Japanese school children. It creates a beautiful image of the quiet, magnetic energy that people who are deeply engaged with life often carry. Perhaps we are drawn to them because they are interesting. Or perhaps because they are moving at a pace many of us are craving.

Practice Over Skill

Focusing on practice rather than skill also reshapes what success means in art.

Instead of achievement, accomplishment, or the finished piece, success becomes about rhythm, consistency, and an ongoing relationship with seeing and making. Letting go of outcome-oriented art is not about lowering standards. It is about shifting attention.

It is not about producing pretty drawings. Rather, it is about sitting down with your sketchbook and using it as a tool for observing. Drawing anchors us in space and time, allowing us to witness change as it unfolds.

The Sketching Exercises Sam Walks Us Through

In the conversation, Sam takes us through the thinking behind the book’s exercises, each designed to build creative confidence through experience.

In the Home

Starting where you are. Noticing objects and spaces you have spent years with, perhaps without really seeing them.

Outside the Home

Venturing out to see the walls of your world from the outside. Noticing what is close by and reconnecting with physical space. It reveals details in neighbourhoods and communities that often go unseen.

The Stories We Tell Ourselves About Drawing

Sam explores some of the beliefs that hold people back, such as:
“What if I am not good enough?”
“I do not want to look silly or draw like a five-year-old.”

Portraits

Portraits were the most challenging exercise for many Sketch Squad members. They require vulnerability. You ask something of another person, and you share something personal in return. This is something we see in Tuula’s Photoyoga For Your Mind Experience.

25 Days of Drawing

Simple prompts designed to build a habit and keep you drawing without overthinking it.

Drawing in Public

Another edge for many people. Being seen doing something personal and slightly unusual in a culture that loves to judge creative effort.

Drawing on Holiday

Experiencing places through the slowness of drawing adds depth to memory. Sam shares a sketchbook from her recent trip to Japan, which holds far more meaning for her than a photo album ever could. A helpful reminder for any habit, too. Start on the first day away. Intentions turn into behaviours quickly, for better or worse.

Drawing From Paintings

A way of engaging critically with art as part of the human story, not just as a product. It teaches us about history, context, and what we might want to bring into our own practice.

Experimental Drawing

Combining senses. Drawing from music, film, collage, and even dreams.

The Personal Project

Turning the practice into a chosen project that marks a pause between chapters. Sam explains why she calls this a personal project rather than a final assignment.

How Creative Confidence Actually Grows

Creative confidence does not arrive before we start. It emerges along the way. Through consistency, we become confident in what we notice and why we care. For experimental types, confidence is not something we can fake into existence. But we can trust that playful, curious engagement with something like a sketching practice develops capacities we do not yet have language for.

I hope you enjoy the conversation. Thank you again to Sam for giving her time so generously and for walking us through the thinking behind, beneath, and within the book. I can’t recommend it highly enough.

Connect with Sam through her website and on her Instagram.

https://serenityisland.me/

I saw a reel earlier that made me notice how burnout spreads. An entrepreneurial self-help influencer told followers to demand more power, money, and visibility for themselves. You may be familiar with this flavour of message…

“How dare you keep your impact hidden?” they said, “given the state of things right now.” They criticised viewers, demanding that they stop letting fear of what others think rule them. “Start the business, write the book, and share it with a world that needs to encounter it.”

There is nothing intrinsically wrong with the underlying sentiment. But I felt troubled by the burnout energy evident in the speaker. I watched with the sound off at first, which intensified the impact of their eyes and hand gestures on my nervous system. There was a sense of panic and hype, which felt completely at odds with what is required for deep courage to meet the very real need being spoken about.

I didn’t feel inspired or grounded in creative motivation. Instead, I was overcome by frenetic urgency and the indiscriminate demand to do more, driven by competition and fear. Things we already have in abundance.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWf-FGZqIyE What Burnout Energy Pushes Us Toward

There are enough people waving their arms and shouting demands about what we should be doing, using, and spending our finite resources on. What we need is space to slow down, take a breath, and listen deeply to that still, quiet voice within. This inner voice shows us what matters and why. Then we can choose how we bring it all to life.

We need leaders who lead from that place, so we might be infused with and infected by the gentleness required to move out of that evident stuckness. That stuckness causes wheels to spin in the cycle of hurry, rush, and reactive firefighting mode.

What Does Safety Make Possible?

The word “safe” is used a lot today. To some degree, it has become diluted, making it difficult to define. But it’s worth exploring because it sits at the heart of this issue.

Maybe we have a desire to change something about ourselves, our lives, or the world. Or perhaps we’ve created, or are creating, something that could make a meaningful difference to other people.

We now consider another buzzword of our times: vulnerability. It can feel vulnerable to be honest about what we want in life and to share what matters to us with those who matter to us. It can be scary to admit what we care about and what burns within us. That’s because it can disrupt the status quo and challenge the image people have of us. It’s vulnerable because we cannot be certain how people will react.

Vulnerability Is More Than a Mindset

Likewise, it may leave us genuinely physically vulnerable if we choose to stand up for what we believe is right, for example, through art or activism. This vulnerability isn’t imagined. It’s not simply an issue of mindset, limiting beliefs to overcome, or a conditioned cultural message we just need to override with reframe hacks. We know there are real-world threats out there.

What struck me about the reel was that it failed to provide the support needed to underpin its demands. In fact, it undermined the courage, conviction, and energy required to speak up in a world that might be unreceptive or even hostile to what we have to say.

The finger-wagging shame that comes from an influencer demanding we do more because it’s cruel to hide from people who need to see us, however well-intentioned, will ultimately crumble and fold under its own weight. As a result, it creates the very passivity and inaction it warns against.

Safety isn’t about comfort or avoidance. It’s the internal condition that enables honest reflection, creative movement, and sustained courage. This isn’t about mindset or thinking. It starts with the context of the stories we swim in, the supportive structures beneath us, and the material conditions that sustain life.

Safety is Also Contagious

One of the things I have consistently heard from people over the years who have connected with what I do, especially in The Haven and through the Serenity Island course, is the word safety. I’m always curious about what it means to those who use it, because it’s not something I think about explicitly.

When I started sharing The Return to Serenity Island at the start of 2021, I received messages from people that put words to the experience:

“Oh my word, it is incredible! A really unique mixture of sound and sensory experience, coaching, imaginative play and informal, companionable talks. I’m absolutely hooked. I just did a module and cried like a baby because I felt so safe and seen. It is really special. That kind of cry you do when you’re a kid, not because you’re afraid anymore, but because you’ve been PICKED UP, and the relief just comes flooding out.” – Josie

This spoke of safety not as the opposite of courage, but as the cornerstone around which courageous action can be sustained. A cornerstone we can return to and draw from without conditions on our intrinsic worth as humans. Safety, then, is feeling held as you are, without expectation or demand to prove yourself or fight for a sense of value.

A Step Back From Burnout Energy

This is a key value that underpins The Return to Serenity Island. It was a response to a feeling I had while doing my old year-end practice. I needed something that broke with the message of self-optimisation, personal productivity, and motivational resources, which, with an emphasis on striving, adding, and growing simply because it’s what you’re “supposed” to do, carried a creeping burnout energy.

Tuula wrote,

“Serenity Island has been the most powerful and lovely thing I have ever experienced. Andy has created an amazing adventure, cleverly weaving together incredibly beautiful soundscapes and deeply touching story narrative, which ignites your imagination, activates all senses and sends you on a journey of a lifetime on this island of your wildest dreams.

It is playful and also a very useful creative project, which continues to evolve and grow with me. This Island work and its ripple effects have sneaked quietly and effectively into so many areas of my life already. I could not have found more effective and gentle coaching than with Andy.”

The course is not something that comes with easy-to-market promises and packaged outcomes that everyone walks away with in the same way. Everyone who goes through it seems to encounter it from a different angle.

But there is a common denominator of safety, which underpins everyone’s response to it.

Safety as a foundation for reflection, observation, and planning. A way to let what sits within us speak, and to give ourselves the best chance of hearing it. And as such, it’s not a way to withdraw from reality. Instead, it helps us locate and root ourselves more firmly within it, so we can find strength, courage, and clarity about who we are, what we want to tend to and nurture, and how we will stand in the face of the forces that may take us away from ourselves.

An Invitation to Serenity Island

The Return to Serenity Island is a self-paced guided voyage with optional Zoom “Picnics”. These provide us with time and space for further reflection, support, and in-person connection along the way.

This is a perfect time to grab a passport if this stuff feels right for you. The Serenity Island Passport gives you access to all materials and picnics for the next 12 months.

And speaking of safety, I’ve made the course available on a choose-your-own-price basis. I know many people are navigating changing financial circumstances, and I truly mean it when I say: choose the amount that feels right for you. No minimum, no need to explain or justify your choice. I just want you there if you feel the pull.

Arriving Through The Fog | A Narrated Soundscape

It’s much easier to show than describe, so I’ll share the first of these six pieces that supplement the course materials.

“Arriving through the fog soundscape is the most brilliant thing I have witnessed as a gateway into myself. If I stopped here, at the harbour to the Island, it would already be worth it for me. Thank you for this. It’s filled with magic.” – Zoie

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DSBXlLgPuTQ

Welcome home!

https://serenityisland.me/

Do you have a heart for change but find that the loud, confrontational, and extroverted norms of traditional activism don’t suit your natural temperament?

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, I talk with Sarah P Corbett, the award-winning activist, author, and founder of the Craftivist Collective.

I’ve been following Sarah for years on Instagram, and after seeing she was Craftivist in Residence at Greenbelt Festival, I thought I’d reach out and see if she fancied a chat. This episode works as a companion piece to my conversation with Dorcas Cheng-Tozun, author of Social Justice for the Sensitive Soul, which includes quotes from Sarah (something I only realised later!).

Sarah’s philosophy of Gentle Protest shows that there are many other tools we can carry in our activism toolbox, and that campaigning can be quietly relational rather than transactional or performative endeavour.

https://youtu.be/8EgDlswKn1k What Is Gentle Protest?

Sarah says that Gentle Protest invites us to challenge injustice through curiosity, empathy, and imagination rather than shame, aggression, or polarity.

Instead of fighting fire with fire, Gentle Protest asks:

• What if activism could entice, intrigue, and attract people to ask questions rather than shout them down?
• What if change could be built through dialogue, beauty, and patience?

This philosophy is rooted in gentleness as a form of strength, not passivity. It’s about engaging people, including those in power, with respect and relational awareness, creating conditions where meaningful change can take root.

Relationships Over Transactions

For Sarah, this kind of activism is not about noise or confrontation. It’s about relationship-building. Gentle Protest works by diffusing defensiveness and replacing finger-wagging with curiosity and creative connection.

When protest becomes relational, it stops being about winning arguments and starts being about transforming understanding. It allows for mutual learning and a recognition of our shared humanity, even in disagreement.

The Firm Backbone of Gentleness

Gentleness is often mistaken for weakness, but as Sarah puts it, it actually requires maturity, emotional intelligence, and depth.

To practice Gentle Protest is to treat people as equals while respecting the realities of their workload, their blind spots, and their humanity. It’s a strategic and pragmatic approach that asks: Who can bring about the change we seek? and How can we engage them in ways that build trust, not tension?

This isn’t about letting things slide. It’s about working intelligently, relationally, and with purpose.

Craftivism is a Tool, Not a Taskmaster

In the Gentle Protest Toolkit, craftivism is one potential tool rather than a catchall dogma. It’s about finding creative methods that fit each situation, rather than repeating the same tactics out of habit.

Sarah uses these questions to help people work backwards when figuring out the best approach for their campaign:

1. What’s the problem?
2. What’s the desired outcome?
3. Who are the decision-makers?
4. Who influences them?
5. What creative medium could best reach them?

If craftivism fits, use it. If not, find another way. The key is flexibility, imagination, and a commitment to relationships.

Letting Go of Perfection

Perfectionism can quietly strangle our ability to act. Sarah reminds us that activism isn’t about knowing everything or producing perfect work; it’s about participating in something bigger than ourselves.

The moment we make a campaign about personal performance, we lose sight of its purpose and make it less impactful. Gentle Protest frees us from that pressure, allowing imperfection and humanity to shine through.

The “Golden Thread of Gentleness”

What runs through everything Sarah does is what she calls the golden thread of gentleness.

Gentle Protest challenges the false dichotomy between soft and strong, showing that kindness can be an act of rebellion when the world rewards cruelty.

In this sense, gentleness is a radical choice we can make in the face of power. It is not passive or submissive, but profoundly and existentially creative.

About Sarah P Corbett

An award-winning activist, author and Ashoka fellow, Sarah P Corbett founded the global Craftivist Collective in 2009 and coined ‘Gentle Protest’ as her unique methodology. Corbett creates products and services for individuals, groups and organisations to do effective craftivism (craft + activism) prioritising audiences who have never done activism before.

Sarah’s pioneering work has helped change government laws, business policies as well as hearts and minds. She has worked with V&A, Tate, Craft Council, Climate Coalition, Helsinki Design Week, Save the Children and Secret Cinema amongst others. One of her campaigns directly led to 50,000 staff of Marks and Spencers receiving the real Living Wage. Plus WWF used Corbett’s 10-point manifesto to create their own successful craftivism campaign that led to a change in law to protect migrating birds in Spain.

Her TED x talk ‘Activism Needs Introverts’ was chosen as a TED Talk Of The Day. Corbett Co-created the Girlguiding Craftivism badge and her third book The Craftivist Collective Handbook was published 2nd May 2024 and won ‘best multimedia book’ at 2025’s The Creative Book Awards.

Connect with Sarah

Find Sarah on Instagram (@craftivists and @sarahpcorbett), Facebook, LinkedIn, YouTube, and subscribe to receive the Craftivist Collective newsletter.

It’s time to dive back into the history of self-help and consider its impact on our understanding of how and who we are. In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, we are looking at the 1937 book, Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill.

Think and Grow Rich sits on millions of bookshelves worldwide. It has remained one of the most enduring self-help books since its publication during the Great Depression. Despite documented controversies and allegations concerning the author, Napoleon Hill is still regarded by many contemporary self-help influencers as an important figure.

For this special episode, Napoleon Hill invited me to meet with him, where he promised to reveal the secret to becoming a successful self-help guru. He tasked me with turning this into a formula, which I could then share with the world. If you are ready to hear this secret, you will. But not all are. Which is why, despite it being mentioned in every part of the episode, I have not spelt it out in the starkest terms. For to do so would diminish its potency.

https://youtu.be/Cn6H17AFwPU 12 Steps To Thinking and Growing Rich as a Self-Help Influencer

We will explore these twelve keys to becoming a successful self-help grifter—sorry, I mean self-help guru—that we can learn from Napoleon Hill’s Think and Grow Rich.

Step 1: Lay Out Your Recipe for Success

Your recipe should promise clarity, control, and a sense of certainty in an uncertain world.

Step 2: Parade Yourself As Living Proof

Don’t be shy about telling people how your life changed from implementing your now tried and tested formula.

Step 3: Build Fail-Safe Principles

Be flexible with your words so that in the face of pushback and criticism, you can use them as reinforcement rather than undermining your idea.

Step 4: Establish Your Inner Circle

Join (or build) a fortifed circle of mutual back-scratching allies to grow authority by association and encourage aspirational sycophancy in your readers who dream of one day belonging to it.

Step 5: Drip Your Secret Sauce

Create and nurture a mystical secret, which sustains in your reader the sense that there is still something graspable they haven’t quite embodied – reinforce this with testimonials from those who appear to get it

Step 6: Nail Your Origin Story

Your appeal hinges on your origin story, which should follow a hero’s journey arc that starts with you in the reader’s current position (facing a challenge, wishing for change, etc). Describe the moment when everything changed for you and how this epiphany led your life to transform into what it is now. Firmly suggest that reading your book might be that wake-up call for the reader’s own heroic journey towards the life they’ve dreamed of but never yet dared follow.

Step 7: Use Confidence as Currency

Speak with confidence even if you are full of doubt and fear. The human mind is suggestible; the projection of confidence creates the perception of confidence. If you believe in your idea, it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not; you know that it’s for the ultimate good of your reader to trust and follow you. Confidence is also what you are selling – people want to feel more of it, so if they see you wearing it, they will follow you.

Step 8: Turn Your Beliefs into Facts

Reinforce a picture of the world your readers want to believe in. Pick stories, metaphors, and research that move the frame of reality to one where your idea can be universally applied, and would be if all people were receptive to its power.

Step 9: Present The Pen of Destiny

Empower your readers to see reality primarily created by them as individuals. Emphasise the power of mindset, desire, and hard work, reinforcing the idea that taking personal responsibility for the quality of their life is what will bring the change they desire.

Step 10: Expose The Inner Enemy

Help your readers focus attention inwards to expose the biggest enemies of personal progress: fear, doubt, and indecision. Use militarised language to impress the urgency of the situation, which your method will help them emerge victorious.

Step 11: Feed The Lone Wolf

Stoke the fire of individual power by showing the reader that they are the protagonist and other people are supporting characters (obstacles or aids) in their life.

Step 12: Divide and Conquer

Nurture loyalty in your readers by turning them into followers, so they will defend you and your ideas if envious people criticise and attack you. And always remember that your people are your easiest source of future profit.

Self-Help is a Form, Not a Topic

Of course, while these might sound absurd, they’re the very mechanisms that keep the self-help industry turning.

Think and Grow Rich is an excellent demonstration of the technical tricks at play. A picture is beginning to form of how, as a genre, self-help is about more than its content. It’s about influencing beliefs and behaviours about ourselves, one another, and the way the world works.

Hill’s techniques rely on narrative, authority, perception, and engagement rather than the presentation of researched and documented knowledge. And when we view it in its historical context, we can see how important that was in the success of Think and Grow Rich. People were in vulnerable positions, still suffering from the effects of the Great Depression in the wake of the Wall Street Crash. They were seeking hope and practical solutions to the real material precarity created by a crisis inherent in the capitalist system. But rather than looking to the cause of that crisis and organising collectively for accountability to the real causes, and to ensure a safer future, Hill sold a story of individuals as personally responsible for the crash and responsible for pulling themselves up and following their dream to riches and success.

Hill’s formula has been replicated, adapted, and updated by thousands of self-help authors in the years since.

Further Reading/Viewing:

If you want to dive deeper into the truth about Napoleon Hill and the context of Think and Grow Rich, several resources do a great job highlighting the pattern of deception, fraud, and opportunism that was his true legacy. Think and Grow Rich isn’t an exception to that pattern – along with his other books, his emergence as a self-help success author sits squarely in his life as a con artist and snake oil salesman.

I hope that, by showcasing some of the techniques Hill employed in his self-help writing, we might be better equipped to recognise these same tactics used by influencers and gurus today. And to help those who are vulnerable to its allure, to notice before they spend thousands of dollars on promises that can’t come true.

In tracing its roots, we can begin to see how the mythology of self-help continues to shape our understanding of who and how we are today.

• The Untold Story of Napoleon Hill, the Greatest Self-Help Scammer of All Time (Matt Novak) (Article)
• The Untold Truth of Napoleon Hill – History’s Most Beloved Con-Man (Coffeezilla) (Video)
• Think and Grow Duped | The Dream (Podcast)
• Napoleon Hill: The Grifter Who Invented ‘The Secret’ & Donald Trump (BTB – Part One) (Video)
• Napoleon Hill: The Grifter Who Invented ‘The Secret’ & Donald Trump (BTB – Part Two) (Video)

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast , I speak with psychiatrist and author Dr Judith Orloff about her new book, The Highly Sensitive Rabbit . She wrote it to help sensitive children, their parents, and educators see sensitivity as a natural trait rather than a problem to be solved. She describes it as an invitation to reconnect with the sensitive inner child within each of us; the part that remembers how to play, imagine, and wonder.

https://youtu.be/0Q7AJGKBbIg Rediscovering the Magic of Life

Life can easily become overly serious, mundane, and disconnected from its natural magic. Judith’s story sets out to remind us to stay in touch with the loving, curious, and deep parts of ourselves. Creativity, she says, begins when we release our expectations and allow things to unfold. Writing a children’s book challenged her to express complex ideas in short sentences, paired with illustrations (by Katy Tanis) that speak directly to the heart.

It’s a lovely example of trying new ways to communicate familiar truths. How would you explain your favourite ideas if you were talking to a five-year-old?

Reading the Book to People

Judith often read The Highly Sensitive Rabbit aloud in different settings to see how people responded. This wasn’t a formal research process, but a natural extension of her curiosity. It was a way to sense how the story landed with children and adults alike.

What Do You Love to Do?

At the heart of the book lies a simple question: What do you love to do?
Through the character of Aurora, a gentle rabbit who prefers quiet and reflection to the boisterous games of her siblings, Judith highlights the importance of honouring individual needs. Aurora shows what it looks like to follow her own rhythm, even when others don’t understand.

This is an invitation for sensitive children (and the adults guiding them) to trust intuition and stay close to what feels true, even when it seems different from the norm.

Opening Up Conversation Instead of Judgement

In one scene, Aurora’s mother worries about her spending too much time alone. Her siblings complain, “She cries all the time.” Their reactions mirror common misunderstandings about sensitivity.

It’s easy to assume that solitude means loneliness, or that tears signal weakness. However, without genuine communication, we cannot determine whether someone’s withdrawal is a healthy choice, meeting a need, or responding through fear. Judith’s story reminds us to stay curious rather than judgmental; to ask, listen, and support instead of prescribing what “should” be.

Supporting a sensitive child means helping them identify their needs, manage their emotions, and develop simple strategies to cope with overwhelm.

Learning to Care for Yourself

Judith offers suggestions for children (and adults) to manage big feelings and model healthy boundaries:

• Take a slow breath when you feel stressed.
• Step away before speaking when you’re upset.
• Try a short three-minute meditation: close your eyes, focus on something beautiful, and take a few deep breaths.

These practices cultivate self-awareness early in life, enabling children to grow up knowing how to take care of themselves.

The Bigger Vision

The Highly Sensitive Rabbit expresses Judith’s wider mission to equip highly sensitive people with tools for thriving in an overstimulating world. When children learn early that their sensitivity is natural, they no longer need to define themselves by it later. It simply becomes part of who they are.

Knowing You’re Highly Sensitive Is the First Step

I asked Judith if there are plans for a sequel. It would be interesting to see Aurora explore her sensitivity through different experiences, applying it through friendships, challenging current events, and creativity. Many adults who discover their sensitivity have that same question: now what? Recognising it is one thing; integrating and normalising it is something else.

https://the-haven.co/zine

Is the audience more than a gaggle of consumers? What role do they play in the creative process of an artist? Should they, as Rick Rubin says, “come last”? Are they always right? Or is there a more nuanced and sustaining way to approach this question?

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel , I explore this question with Steve Lawson.

I bumped into Steve towards the end of the summer at Greenbelt Festival. We rapidly got deep in conversation about his recently completed PhD, A Study Towards a New Model for Subscriber Audience Involvement in Improvised Music .

Steve’s approach to music-making and creative practice has always resonated with me. Over the past twenty-five years, he has carved out a living as a solo improvisational bass player, developing a thoughtful and sustainable model for art that resists the common assumptions that drive an obsession with numbers and scale. His thesis turns that lived experience into a lens for questioning many of the assumptions baked into how we think about creativity today.

https://youtu.be/BB362bVySiI

Notes from our conversation…

The Audience Comes With

What happens if we treat the audience as part of the story that shapes and sustains our practice?

A way of looking at the influential relationship between artist and audience is to create spaces where the rationale (the philosophical approach) can be presented, and work can emerge as part of a conversation with the audience. For Steve, listening to how people (who respect your work) engage with it, whether “that reminds me of…” or “my Dad just died and all I can listen to is you,” becomes so much more meaningful than having a reviewer who doesn’t know what you are doing or why, and place it in a pile of other CDs. What matters is how people relate it to their lives, and what it means to them. Creating spaces for this dialogue became central: a mailing list, website forum, Twitter, and eventually a subscription model through Bandcamp.

Non-Algorithmically Defined Community Spaces

This meant integrating community with the economic rationale for making music. The audience emotionally sustains the music and financially supports its creation, along with the maintenance of the space where both artist and audience belong as equals. When the audience has already paid for the music before it is made, there is no need to rationalise it with hype or spectacle. Instead, it connects with people who already share the philosophical approach. This is a form of patronage, supporting the artist because of how they create, not only what they make.

Scenius (Brian Eno)

Genius is not an individual trait but the manifestation of the collective intelligence of a scene. Famous names are simply the visible tip of a larger iceberg, as with Russian painters in the early twentieth century.

Reception Theory (Stuart Hall)

Audiences actively interpret media texts by encoding and decoding. They may align with the intended meaning (dominant reading), reject it (oppositional reading), or negotiate it. Instrumental music does not encode meaning in a concrete way. Its sense of meaning emerges cumulatively, with artist and audience encoding together. Decoding and recoding become a collective process, shaped by new work and ongoing observations.

The Space of the Talkaboutable (David Darke)

Great works expand the “space of the talkaboutable,” an invitation to discuss ideas and broaden horizons. While Darke sees this as arriving around the work, Steve sees the space as built first (through mailing lists, forums, Twitter, Bandcamp), with the work then released into it. Meaning is collectively encoded, decoded, and recoded in this shared space.

“The Audience Comes Last”

The PhD began with the desire to make better music. What became clear was how much the audience contributes to the process, and what happens when that is denied. Rubin’s statement that the audience should be ignored overlooks the wisdom, care, and vulnerability that listeners bring. If the artist reflects the collective experience of a community, then the soundtrack emerges from what is shared.

This model does not scale, and that is the point. It does not rely on 200,000 monthly Spotify listeners or disconnected fame. That pressure brings entitlement and expectation. Within the subscriber community, no one tells the artist what to do. Even when people do not understand, they ask in good faith why, rather than demanding change.

From a Transactional to a Relational Audience

In transactional dynamics, the audience and the artist are set against each other, either dictating the work or being ignored. But a community of practice is about shared growth around a central practice. Interest in process can deepen listening and appreciation, rather than feeding competitiveness or exclusivity.

In a culture of shortcuts and AI-generated outputs, curiosity about how something is done can add depth. Seeing how a sound is made can enhance enjoyment, provided it is not reduced to transactional comparison.

Algorithmic Sensationalism

When everyone strives for spectacle, nuance disappears. Storytellers risk being drowned out by carnival barkers. The demand for more outrageous content comes at the cost of honesty and integrity. In this context, honesty itself becomes an act of resistance.

Transformative and Incremental Change

Incremental change adds more of what already exists, such as new ways to sell CDs. Transformative change shifts the whole landscape, such as the move from a scarcity economy to a digital economy. Streaming services illustrate this. It takes 100 premium streams or 600 free streams to equal one paid download in the UK charts. A fan listening 50 times counts for little. This model discourages deep audience and artist relationships, favouring scale and safety over innovation and depth.

Value and Meaning

“Art is how we decorate space, and music is how we decorate time” (Basquiat).

The value of music is not in how it is made or delivered, but in what it does to us when we hear it. It lives in memory and anticipation carried in the present moment of listening.

How Can I Keep Doing This?

“ How can I keep doing this? ” Creators want to make meaningful work in ways that are true to their vision and voice. But the new market risks corrupting that relationship, bending art to serve algorithms and demand. The pressure for novelty creates a treadmill of spectacle rather than depth.

The Stagnating Affect of Uninterrogated Nostalgia

Nostalgia plays a powerful, often unexamined, role in media consumption. While loving music from the past is natural, unexamined nostalgia can become life sapping, pulling us into yearning for an imagined past at the cost of present possibility. Complaints that “nobody writes like X anymore” undermine new work, and algorithms rarely prioritise sharing others’ new music.

Community in Practice

When Steve was diagnosed with cancer, he recorded a piece immediately after leaving hospital and shared it on Bandcamp. The audience was present, part of his journey, and the music carried meaning in that shared context. It was not “music about cancer” from a safe distance. It was a raw reflection of his brain on cancer, sparking connection and healing with those who were already part of the story.

Listen

Steve’s music

Emily Baker

Dirty Loops (Henrik Linder)

House of Waters (Moto Fukushima)

In this week’s episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, we look at the relationship between sensory processing sensitivity and hypervigilance.

As we finish our journey through the first HSP Owner’s Guide , we turn our attention to hypervigilance. that feeling of being permanently “switched on,” unable to stop scanning for danger, even when we’re safe.

For highly sensitive people, vigilance is a natural part of sensory processing sensitivity. It helps us read the room, pick up subtle cues, and stay attuned to what is happening beneath the surface. But when vigilance tips into hypervigilance, it can leave us in a state of chronic over-arousal, disconnection, and exhaustion.

In the episode, we explore why hypervigilance is such a common experience for HSPs, how it shows up in everyday life, and ways we might support our nervous systems in returning to a sense of safety and connection. I examine hypervigilance within a social and cultural context for HSPs, rather than from a clinical or individual psychological perspective.

https://youtu.be/RCvrgSJH73I Vigilance vs. Hypervigilance

Vigilance is an intrinsic feature of sensory intelligence. It anchors us in the awareness to notice and predict useful information to help us survive and thrive together.

Hypervigilance is what happens when vigilance overspills, and we get stuck in a state of alertness with limited capability to move our nervous system into a state of connection.

This can have roots in early life (especially for HSPs who are more impacted by their formative environments). But it can also develop over time because of the pressures and rhythms of the modern world, with constant notifications, cultural glorification of busyness, and a never-ending expectation to perform and prove our worth.

Possible Signs of Hypervigilance

Hypervigilance is not always dramatic. Often it shows up quietly and gradually, for example you might notice:

• Feeling flat or detached, as if life is happening behind glass
• Difficulty taking action, even on small plans
• Unusual tearfulness
• Brain fog and trouble focusing
• Ruminating thoughts on repeat
• Disrupted sleep cycles
• Anxiety or panic attacks seemingly “out of nowhere”
• Harsh self-criticism or low self-esteem

If these feel familiar, they may be signs that your nervous system has been in “stay safe” mode for a long time.

Why Hypervigilance Happens

Hypervigilance is the nervous system’s over-lean into the message, “stay safe by staying alert.” This is obviously appropriate in certain contexts, but when we carry this story everywhere, it takes its toll and can be a difficult pattern to get out of.

Some common contributing factors include:

• Early Environments: Growing up in conflict or unpredictability can train the nervous system to always be on guard, especially in volatile environments where safety could be torn away at a moment’s notice.
• Past Experiences: The nervous system may overlearn from painful experiences, remaining alert to avoid “ever letting that happen again.”
• Cultural Pressures: Hustle culture, social media outrage cycles, and global crises all create a background hum of threat.
• Worldview and Meaning-Making: Certain belief systems (political, religious, ideological) can divide the world into “us vs. them,” keeping us in a state of perpetual alertness to nefarious outside actors.
• Physiological Factors: Poor sleep, hormone shifts, or nutritional deficiencies can lower our threshold for perceiving danger.

These are rarely isolated and often overlap in ways that reinforce one another.

Meeting Hypervigilance with Creative Gentleness

A helpful (though, not easy) way to meet everyday hypervigilance is to slow things down. Not necessarily by stopping altogether, but by letting engagement become gentler and more deliberate. Rather than rushing to solve, fix, or control, we can allow space to notice small sensory glimmers, those subtle cues that tell us we are safe, connected, and welcome in the moment.

Sometimes hypervigilance disguises itself as a need to gather more knowledge or prepare more thoroughly before we act. The desire to have the perfect plan, the ideal response, or the flawless understanding can be part of the protective pattern itself. Learning to sit with uncertainty, to laugh about situations (especially with others), and to experiment imperfectly can be a gentle way of softening the grip of hypervigilance.

We do not have to do this work alone. Bringing trusted people into our experiments, letting them see us try, fail, and try again, can help retrain our nervous system to experience safety and belonging in moments of vulnerability. Over time, these practices reshape our inner landscapes, reassuring the nervous system that imperfection is safe.

I had not heard of James Allen before I started exploring this history of self-help. I saw references to his book, “ As a Man Thinketh ”, which was frequently cited as an influential text around the power of thought on manifesting circumstances. With our “It’s the thought that counts” theme in The Haven this month, my curiosity took me into a James Allen rabbit hole.

I read three of his books: From Poverty to Power (his first), The Divine Companion (his last), and As a Man Thinketh (his most famous). I wanted to try getting a sense of where he was coming from in his philosophical worldview. He published around twenty books, all written within an eleven-year period, before he died in 1912 at just 47 years old. I do wonder how his ideas would have evolved if he had lived longer.

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast , I share my response to As a Man Thinketh. I reflect on Allen’s ideas and their implications for the way we think about ourselves, one another, and the nature of reality.

https://youtu.be/tVtG-Ahrkgw Why Am I Doing This Project?

You may be wondering why I’m exploring self-help…Good question. I’m not completely sure. But I think it’s because I’ve felt an intuitive nudge to explore this world and its function in culture.

I don’t know where it will take me (I have no overriding purpose or vision with it – sorry James!), or what I will find, but I have a sense that there are interesting things to discover by examining, not just the content that is common in the self-help genre, but the role the field plays in how we understand and judge ourselves, others, and the horizons of possibility for the world.

As I find in this book, there are some interesting insights and invitations to explore. But it also carries the potential to be understood, embodied, and applied in dangerous and harmful ways, especially when Allen’s metaphors are mistaken for literal truths. This is where his philosophy, which initially sounds positive and empowering, becomes reductive and destructive when we examine its logical implications.

It demonstrates rhetorical tricks that are echoed in modern-day personal development literature, such as metaphorical literalism. This is where poetic imagery and aphorisms are employed to support and prove otherwise baseless philosophies.

How James Allen Described As a Man Thinketh

As a Man Thinketh is intentionally short. Allen described it as a pocket book with teaching that all can easily grasp and follow. He said it shows how, in their own thought-world, each human holds the key to every condition, good or bad, that enters into our life. By working patiently and intelligently upon our thoughts, we may remake our life and transform our circumstances.

The question I keep coming back to throughout this exploration is, does he mean this as a description or a prescription? And what difference does this make to our reading, interpretation, and application of these ideas?

As a Man Thinketh – Notes Thought and Character

“A man is literally what he thinks, his character being the complete sum of all his thoughts.”

A person is the product of thought alone. The mantra “change your thoughts, change your life” is still repeated as if it were a scientific law rather than a metaphor.

The Effect of Thought on Circumstances

“Every man is where he is by the law of his being. The thoughts which he has built into his character have brought him there, and in the arrangement of his life there is no element of chance.”

Prosperity and poverty, joy and suffering, always mirror the state of an individual’s mind.

The Effect of Thought on Health and Body

“The body is the servant of the mind. It obeys the operations of the mind, whether they be deliberately chosen or automatically expressed.”

Thought is the source of health and sickness.

Thought and Purpose

“He who has conquered doubt and fear has conquered failure.”

To avoid suffering, an individual needs a central life purpose. We should find the straight pathway to the achievement of purpose, and never deviate from its path.

The Thought-Factor in Achievement

“Before a man can achieve anything, even in worldly things, he must lift his thoughts above slavish animal indulgence.”

A virtuous life is about achievement, accomplishment, and sacrifice.

Visions and Ideals

“Dream lofty dreams, and as you dream, so shall you become.”

Just as the oak sits in the acorn and the bird in the egg, every life is where it deserves to be based on the way they have manifested their dreams.

Serenity

“Self-control is strength; Right Thought is mastery; Calmness is power.”

Calmness of mind is the hallmark of strength. The serene person is better positioned to achieve power, influence, and moral authority.

Reading As a Man Thinketh today, it’s striking how much of modern self-help traces back to these chapters. Its metaphors endure, and sit in us like self-evident truths.

The appeal of serenity continues in modern stoicism and mindfulness trends.

My Conclusion

Allen’s neat system suggests that thought alone determines who we are and what happens to us. It is an idea that has proven remarkably persistent, even though it collapses under the weight of real life. Human experience is not simple, not consistent, not something we can manage through the power of will. We are shaped by chance, by biology, by history, by one another. To be alive is to live in the contradiction and messiness. Any philosophy that denies this may be comforting for a moment, but it asks us to reject the very things that make us human.

https://the-haven.co/register/

This post elaborates on the ‘overstimulation’ section of The HSP Owner’s Guide.

In this week’s episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, we look at the relationship between sensory processing sensitivity and overstimulation.

Overstimulation is a term we often hear when people talk about high sensitivity. It’s the second word in the DOES acronym after Deep Processing and before Emotional Responsiveness or Empathy, and Sensing Subtleties as a description of core characteristics of the trait.

But what do we actually mean by overstimulated? What does it look like? And is there anything we can do about it other than avoiding stimulating environments and situations? At the get-go, I want to answer that question with a resounding yes. We don’t have to write ourselves out of the situations, environments, and experiences that really matter to us. We have the capacity to build sustainable approaches to this stuff.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qy8XxQe7_iU Responsiveness and Stimulation

Because highly sensitive people are all different, it’s important to remember that sensitivity isn’t who we are. It’s more like the rails our nervous system runs on. It is often described as a spectrum of sensory responsiveness. Those on the high end take in a huge amount of sensory data and process it deeply. Those on the low end take in less, and most people are somewhere in the middle. As a species, we have evolved and benefit from individuals existing along this continuum.

Environmental Sensitivity researchers describe this variation through the concept of differential susceptibility. Some individuals are more profoundly influenced by their environment, for better or worse. It’s not about weakness or fragility. It’s about responsiveness and depth of processing. Studies show that highly sensitive individuals flourish in supportive settings but face greater challenges in chaotic ones.

I like to visualise this difference using microphones. A sensitive condenser mic is uniquely effective in quiet, controlled spaces. It picks up every subtle detail. But in a loud environment, it can get overwhelmed by noise. A dynamic mic has a narrower field of responsiveness and can work in almost any environment because it picks up less background noise. Both are useful, but for different purposes. This helps us remember that high sensitivity isn’t a flaw or superpower, it’s just a variation in human temperament, useful in some contexts and less so in others.

What Overstimulation Looks Like

Overstimulation can look different from individual to individual. It is caused by an overload of the nervous system with environmental, emotional, social, or cognitive information.

It’s not always evident to others when a highly sensitive person is overstimulated. Despite appearing calm or composed, HSPs may be grappling with intense physical discomfort or emotional distress due to nervous system overload. Rising levels of stress hormones such as adrenaline, noradrenaline, and cortisol exacerbate this heightened sensitivity, leading to strong reactions to excitement, tension, temperature changes, or sensory stimuli in the environment.

What looks like calmness in a person might be a kind of shutting down. This happens to me when I’ve had too much stimulation – I can look really chilled out, but in actual fact I’m unable to function properly.

You might experience:

Physical symptoms of overstimulation

• Lightheadedness or dizziness
• Internal tremors (feeling shaky inside without visible shaking)
• Heart palpitations or irregular heartbeat sensations
• Nausea or digestive discomfort
• Temperature sensitivity

Cognitive effects of overstimulation

• Difficulty concentrating or focusing on tasks
• Short-term memory lapses
• Mental fog or feeling disconnected from surroundings
• Racing thoughts

Emotional responses

• Irritability disproportionate to the situation
• Sudden emotional surges, such as tears or outbursts of frustration
• Social withdrawal urges
• Heightened startle response

Behavioural changes

• Restlessness or inability to settle
• Increased sensitivity to light, sound, or touch
• Sleep disturbances despite fatigue
• Impulsive decisions to remove oneself from situations

Overstimulation may be subtle. It can build gradually like a low background hum. And sometimes it hits all at once, like flood defences breaking. I remember experiencing it in shops as a child. The fluorescent lights, drudging through aisles, would leave me suddenly feeling drowsy and disconnected, despite being excited at the idea of going shopping.

The Physiology Behind Overstimulation

When overstimulated, the nervous system activates stress responses.

• Neuroception, the subconscious threat detection system, becomes hyper-alert
• Stress hormones such as cortisol and adrenaline flood the system
• The prefrontal cortex becomes less effective, making rational thinking harder
• Sensory filters become less discriminating, letting in too much information

This explains why two people can enter the same environment and one feels energised while the other feels overwhelmed. It’s as much about the state of your nervous system as the external situation, and also about the cumulative load of stimulation you carry between contexts. This is also why it’s important to consider Deb Dana’s words, “story follows state,” which remind us that for highly sensitive people, it’s not as simple as choosing our mindset. We need to start by selecting environmental elements that lead to a calm and less stimulated nervous system before particular thoughts may be able to change.

How to Regulate When Overstimulation Hits

We might think of regulating overstimulation through two broad filters: proactive and responsive.

Proactive regulation involves preparing your nervous system before entering a stimulating environment or situation:

• Notice environments that tend to overstimulate you (and how it tends to happen)
• Consider the contributing factors, e.g. timing, social energy, and sensory intensity
• Plan strategies ahead of time that help you identify green/red flags when facing invitations/opportunities, prioritising margin and bridging between environments, and planning for realistic preparation/recovery space and time where possible

Responsive regulation is what you do when you feel your nervous system becoming overstimulated. Again, different things work for different people, and what works for one person might make it worse for someone else. It’s about experimenting with things like:

• Finding a quiet space with reduced sensory input
• Calming tools such as earplugs, weighted items, or familiar textures, tastes, smells etc
• Breathing techniques
• Stepping outside or moving your body
• Creative practices like doodling, writing, or playing an instrument
• Co-regulating alongside others away from the source of the stimulation

Long-term adaptation might include:

• Scheduling buffer time between activities (and bridges that help you leave and arrive well)
• Identifying recurring triggers and adjusting environments
• Developing a personal preparation/recovery toolkit

The goal isn’t to shut down your sensitivity or avoid life. It’s to notice, understand, and collaborate with your nervous system so you can navigate stimulating environments more comfortably.

The Social Side of Overstimulation

Social interaction is a major source of overstimulation. It’s rarely just the conversation. It can be the context, the unknowns, and the processing afterwards (reliving the conversations, wondering why you said what you did and didn’t say what you should have!) You might really enjoy someone’s company and still leave drained.

Noticing red flags and green flags helps. Big groups with unstructured conversation might deplete you, while small gatherings feel energising. Individual differences matter too. Someone might be draining even if you share interests, while another person energises you despite little obvious common ground.

After-care is crucial. Sometimes being fully drained can feel good if recovery time is planned. The real challenge is when life leaves no margin, stacking one overstimulating event on another. For people with full-time caring responsibilities, this lack of margin is a constant reality.

Sensitivity Beyond the Self

I believe sensitivity has an important social role. Highly sensitive people often notice gaps in care and justice, and their responsiveness and empathy support social cohesion. Noticing and responding to sources of stimulation isn’t just about individual survival; it’s tied to our capacity to change the world around us. It’s about shaping communities, environments, and expectations to work for different people. Not least because when we make the world conducive for individuals to flourish, it is good for all of us.

https://the-haven.co/zine

I’m starting a project exploring the history of self-help; where the ideas came from, how they’ve changed over time, and what they mean for us today.

This episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast is my chance to set some intentions, explain why I feel drawn to do this, and share how you can get involved if you want to join me for the ride.

I’m not starting this project with the end in mind. Sorry, Stephen Covey, but I’m rebelling against the second habit of highly effective people. I honestly don’t know how this will look or where it will take me. I’m just intrigued to dig into the backstory of personal development and positive thinking, and explore how it became an industry worth an estimated around $40 billion in 2024, projected to more than double by 2033.

Self-help shapes how millions of us think about ourselves, our relationships, our struggles, and our potential. I want to look at where it came from, how it works, and what it’s doing to us now.

https://youtu.be/GMowyoc4TeA This isn’t about belittling self-help

I want to approach this with a curious and critical open mind, not a cynical one. I’ve personally gained insight, tools, and practices from authors in the personal development space. So, I have experienced the value of resources and authors under the broad self-help umbrella.

But I do have some questions.

One in particular that has long been on my mind…with the ideas in self-help are as widely adopted as they are, why haven’t they “worked” in the big-picture sense?

Why now feels like a good moment to examine the rise of self-help

We’re living in a strange mix of economic precarity, post-pandemic disorientation, the maturing of influencer culture, and now AI churning out self-help style advice at industrial speed.

If self-help reflects and responds to the anxieties of its time, then this moment feels like a perfect point to ask whether it might be contributing to those same anxieties it claims to ease.

The quote that caught my attention

About 12 years ago, I read The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can’t Stand Positive Thinking by Oliver Burkeman.

One idea in it has stuck with me ever since:

“Perhaps you don’t need telling that self-help books… rarely much help. This is why some self-help publishers refer to the ‘eighteen-month rule’, which states that the person most likely to purchase any given self-help book is someone who, within the previous eighteen months, purchased a self-help book—one that evidently didn’t solve all their problems.”

I was a big reader of personal development books at the time, especially those that spoke to building online businesses around creativity. They gave me a sense of forward momentum and excitement about future possibilities, but I could also feel myself on a treadmill. Old dissatisfaction was replaced with new.

That quote made me wonder if the self-help industry insists on not solving our problems. Which makes sense when you think about it…why would a market secure its own demise? It needs to keep inventing new problems to solve. Otherwise it collapses.

The 18-month rule and endless repackaging

Some people enjoy the sense of growth that comes from reading a new book, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But from my experience, a lot of them say the same thing in different clothing.

Different anecdotes. Different metaphors. Same structure.

So why do we keep reading? And why does the market keep producing more?

The Mel Robbins example

Earlier this year, I looked into whether Mel Robbins had plagiarised a poem by Cassie Phillips and made up the story that inspired her book The Let Them Theory.

I bought and read the book as part of my research. It’s not my usual reading choice, and I hadn’t read a new personal development book in years. Two things struck me:

1. The writing felt more like marketing copy than the work of a writer.
2. The ideas weren’t new; just repackaged versions of stoicism, the serenity prayer, radical acceptance, and Buddhism (which she openly admits, albeit in defence of the plagiarism accusations).

This persuasive, “I’m your friend” style of marketing is common in self-help influencer culture. Whether intended or not, it can exploit people who are in vulnerable and precarious positions. It nurtures parasocial bonds to build and potentially exploit trust.

The History of Self-help in times of turmoil

Another thread I want to follow is whether self-help historically booms during moments of economic, political, and social instability. When the world feels out of control, we can focus on the things we think we can influence, such as our choices, responses, and mindset.

But I also wonder if this helps keep the larger system running as it is, without actually changing anything meaningful.

In Bright-Sided (Smile or Die in the UK), Barbara Ehrenreich wrote about how positive thinking became prevalent as a way to turn responsibility onto employees during times of corporate downsizing. Painting redundancy as an opportunity, rewarding those who keep smiling, performing, and pretending to be fine under the precarious ruthlessness of neoliberal capitalism.

My working definition of self-help

I’m defining self-help books as works that position individual change as the path to life transformation. When built around an author’s personal story or branded method, they often focus on abstract notions like success, wealth, happiness, and fulfilment.

They usually sit at the front of a funnel that leads to courses, coaching, and memberships. The underlying message is: “You alone are responsible for your future success, happiness, and suffering.”

I want to explore what happens when this narrative dominates both individual and cultural thinking.

How the series will (probably) work

I’ll be working through some of the biggest titles in the genre, as well as obscure but influential works. Sometimes one book per episode, sometimes clusters based around particular themes or authors.

I’m aiming for one or two episodes per month. I’d love your suggestions and stories along the way. All of this is subject to evolve and change, but this is the first step I’m taking on this path. I’m sure it will evolve once I get going.

https://the-haven.co/register/

The internet is full of memes about positive thinking. I saw this quote a few days ago:
“The only difference between a good day and a bad day is your attitude.”

At first glance, it contains some truth. Of course, the way we think about things can influence our relationship with them. But taken too far, this kind of thinking turns into something insidious and destructive.

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, we explore the darker side of positive thinking.

https://youtu.be/E0JCsl_u_7M?si=XAHxf4c2LB578QIr

I remember hearing someone suggest replacing ‘have to’ with ‘get to’ as a way to live with more gratitude for things we take for granted. Again, that can definitely be a useful reframe at times. But the associated claim that words impact thoughts and thoughts are the only thing that create our reality can quickly become an imprisoning and judgemental superstition. Toxic positivity encourages emotional suppression and shame, where anything other than optimism is considered weakness or failure.

You’ve Only Got Yourself To Blame

If we follow the logic that our thoughts dictate our reality to its extreme, we land in a society shaped by what philosopher Byung-Chul Han calls the achievement imperative. In this world, external rules are replaced by internal commands. We no longer respond to “you should” or “you must.” Instead, we internalise the injunction to perpetually “live our passion,” “find our purpose,” and “optimise our potential.”

Han quotes Tony Robbins, who promotes this mindset by saying,
“When you set a goal, you’ve committed to CANI (Constant, Never-Ending Improvement)! You’ve acknowledged the need that all human beings have for constant, never-ending improvement. There is a power in the pressure of dissatisfaction, in the tension of temporary discomfort. This is the kind of pain you want in your life.”

This leads to a permanent state of temporary discomfort. There is always something to optimise, improve, and change. Never rest. Never be satisfied.

The Problem With Pathological Positivity

Toxic positivity – we might describe it as pathological positivity (though I’ve seen a book of that name painting it as a desirable state of being, so that’s a bit odd)- thrives on the belief that we should reframe negative thoughts. But there is a big difference between resistance and repression. A good comparison comes from Viktor Frankl, the Holocaust survivor, founder of logotherapy and author of Man’s Search for Meaning. He wrote:
“We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way”.

Choosing Your Response vs Blaming Your Attitude

Unlike self-help slogans, Frankl’s words do not offer easy comfort. He was not promoting positive thinking. He was describing something he observed in those who were stripped of their humanity and subjected to unimaginable suffering. For Frankl, attitude was not a shortcut to happiness or material prosperity, but a form of resistance and an expression of power over an oppressor. It was a way to maintain dignity in the face of dehumanisation. His message was not about pretending things are okay, but about facing reality with courage and integrity.

This contrasts with James Allen’s 1903 As a Man Thinketh, often credited with laying the foundation for mindset-focused personal development and the Law of Attraction. Allen writes:
“All that a man achieves and all that he fails to achieve is the direct result of his own thoughts.”
“Suffering is always the effect of wrong thought.”

These statements are simplistic. But they can also be dangerous. They suggest that all suffering is self-inflicted, that illness, grief, or injustice are failures in a person’s thinking. This mindset promotes shame and silence. Far from being a response to an oppressive power, it becomes an oppressive force. It encourages people to internalise systemic issues and to blame themselves for pain that is often out of their control.

Finding Meaning vs Toxic Positivity

Frankl offers a different path. He did not believe that the mind creates suffering. He believed that suffering is a real part of life. In one of his stories, he counsels a man grieving the loss of his wife. Instead of offering platitudes, Frankl invites the man to see the pain as a reflection of deep love. The meaning was not imposed from outside. It emerged from the man’s own experience. The grief was real, and so was the love that gave rise to it.

Meaning, in Frankl’s work, is not about positive thinking. It is about finding light in dark places. And when suffering is avoidable, the most meaningful response is to change its cause, not to accept or reframe it. This perspective is far more compassionate and responsible than the toxic positivity that dominates much of modern self-help culture.

The Freedom to Feel What Is True

The Black Mirror episode, Nosedive speaks to this. The protagonist, Lacie, lives in a world where everyone rates each other’s behaviour in real time. Life becomes a game of masking and performance. But after a series of events, her social rating plummets, and she ends up in a jail cell. It looks like she has lost everything, but for the first time, she is free. Free from the endless can of achievement society. Liberated from the permanent loop of self-correction and optimisation.

https://the-haven.co/zine

This post elaborates on the ‘moral sensitivity’ section of The HSP Owner’s Guide.

Have you ever felt like you’re carrying the weight of the world’s wrongs inside your body? You may feel torn between staying true to your values and going along with what is considered “normal”?

For many Highly sensitive people (HSPs), this quiet inner tension is familiar. Sensory processing sensitivity often comes with an instinctive concern for fairness, justice, and the well-being of the world around us. This moral sensitivity is woven into how many HSPs notice, feel, and respond.

Alongside this internal compass, many HSPs naturally hold strong values that influence how they interact with life. This can fuel a desire for harmony and social cohesion, while also heightening their awareness of injustice or harm. Their choices are often guided by the impact on others, including people, animals, and the environment.

https://youtu.be/mnoCdSo2QnA What Might Moral Sensitivity Look Like in a Highly Sensitive Person?

Every HSP is different. Our beliefs naturally vary. We do not all approach, value, or hold things with the same convictions. But there are characteristics and patterns that are common for many HSPs.

Awareness

• A clear sense of personal values (a highly sensitive person may develop and arrive at their own set of foundational values that they live by. These are not necessarily intentionally chosen, but they might be evident in the elements they consider when making decisions and taking action).
• Sensitivity to injustice, dishonesty, or unfair treatment of others (they might find themselves stirred to action when they witness or experience actions that go against their values. This can even lead to acting against personal interests for the sake of something or someone else).
• Discomfort with actions or systems that violate deeply held principles (HSPs might be aware of the role of dehumanising systems, processes, and attitudes, which step outside of their moral and ethical values).

Connection to Meaning

• A tendency to question purpose, both in personal life and broader societal structures (this might happen quietly in your heart and mind, with some trusted confidants, or it could occur in a wider context).
• Interest in philosophical, spiritual, or ethical frameworks (HSPs might connect with ideas that give scaffolding to their values. They might adopt them fully or build their own from joining dots and piecing things together).
• Intuitive sense of what feels morally “right” or “wrong” in different contexts (many HSPs tend to notice patterns across contexts. This underpins trust or distrust without overt evidence for it).

Responsibility and Diligence

• Acting in alignment with personal values (decisions and choices are often made with a desire for a deeper sense of meaning or purpose).
• Attunement to moral dilemmas and contradictions in societal norms
• Disturbance when witnessing hypocrisy or people acting without integrity (needing to do something when seeing people deliberately manipulating, deceiving, or taking advantage of others).
• Feeling personally responsible to do “the right thing” in difficult situations.

Sensitivity to Moral Nuance and Grey Areas

• Noticing nuances in ethical dilemmas that others might overlook (highly sensitive people might see nuance where others paint a simplistic picture).
• Struggling with situations where no choice feels fully just or fair (they might feel the weight of decisions they had to make, but which had costs to them).
• Processing moral questions for longer periods before reaching conclusions (HSPs might need more time before forming an opinion or judgement).

How Moral Sensitivity Shows Up in Daily Life Personal Relationships

• HSPs may be particularly attuned to imbalances in fairness, such as one-sided friendships or unequal effort in partnerships.
• They might notice their concerns belittled or dismissed as “overthinking” or hear others tell them to stop worrying, “just let it go”, “get over it”, or “pull yourself together”.

Work and Social Settings

• Workplace policies or societal norms that seem unjust can be unsettling, prompting a desire in some HSPs to address and change them rather than passively accept them.
• HSPs may feel compelled to speak up about ethical concerns. Some might find themselves advocating for policies or speaking on behalf of others. This is because it is sometimes easier to stand up for others than for themselves.
• They might not be naturally competitive until they encounter unfairness or injustice. The desire to put things right can ignite a competitive spark in a sensitive person.

Self-Expectations

• A strong internal drive to act with integrity, sometimes leading to self-criticism if they fall short of their own standards.
• Difficulty moving on from past decisions that did not fully align with their values. They might be ‘‘haunted’ by moments where they acted out of integrity in the past.

Navigating the Challenges of Moral Sensitivity Holding Idealism with Realism

While moral clarity can be an anchor, holding too tightly to rigid expectations often leads to disappointment, resentment, or burnout. It can help to remember that most decisions and situations exist in shades of grey.

Emotional Responses to Injustice

Being attuned to injustice can take an emotional toll, especially when exposed to distressing news, conversations, or environments that feel out of alignment with core values. Use creativity to process situations.

A creative practice can help you explore your thoughts and develop a positive approach to addressing and responding to things like injustice. This also provides options for action. Whether you want to make art, take direct action, or let go, when you know that there is nothing more you can personally do.

Over-Responsibility

It is easy for highly sensitive people to feel responsible for solving every moral issue they encounter, but this can quickly lead to overwhelm or compassion fatigue. Recognising and accepting that no single person can solve every problem is essential for long-term well-being. Many HSPs benefit from focusing their energy on causes, relationships, or actions where their input feels both meaningful and sustainable. This is instead of trying to carry the weight of the world.

As Dorcus Cheng-Tozen writes in Social Justice for the Sensitive Soul, not everyone responds in the same way. Working toward a fairer, more just world is not a one-size-fits-all process. It calls for each of us to be who we are rather than trying to force ourselves into unsustainable boxes we don’t need to fit into.

Finding Like-Spirited Communities

Moral sensitivity can sometimes feel isolating, especially if others dismiss it as unnecessary or excessive. Connecting with others who share a similar perspective on the world can help reduce feelings of alienation and loneliness. This is especially true when you don’t have to explain yourself or feel defensive about the things you naturally care about.

Sensitivity is a Natural Trait

Moral sensitivity is neither a flaw nor a superpower. It is simply one way many highly sensitive people process and engage with the world around them. For some, it can deepen relationships and decision-making. For others, it may feel like a heavy weight to carry.

The key lies in self-awareness, recognising when this sensitivity is guiding you toward meaningful action. Additionally, it is essential to recognise when it may be beneficial to cultivate patience, gentleness, or compassion with yourself and those around you.

Over To You

What impact does sensitivity to moral and ethical issues have on your approach to decisions and the things you care about? Does any of this resonate with your experiences? Drop a message or leave a comment on YouTube.

Peter Ormerod is a journalist and writer who has written extensively about culture and faith for The Guardian, and he is also an arts editor for NationalWorld. He’s a very close friend of mine, so it was a real pleasure to speak with him in this capacity for The Gentle Rebel Podcast.

Peter has just published a wonderful book, David Bowie and the Search for Life, Death and God. It resonates deeply with many of the themes we explore in The Haven and on the podcast, particularly the idea of what sits below an experimental approach to life.

Speaking of which, Peter also makes beautiful music. You can listen here.

https://youtu.be/f7jsoUB5jCY Beneath the Changes, a Consistent Question

What really interested me was this path Bowie embodied so visibly through his art. The shifting characters, styles, and phases across his career can look like constant reinvention on the surface. But Peter invites us to see something else at play.

What if these changes weren’t signs of restlessness, but expressions of something deep and consistent underneath? A spiritual thread running through Bowie’s life and work.

That question sits at the heart of Peter’s book. What if the spiritual wasn’t incidental to Bowie’s creativity, but an essential driving force beneath it? Peter shows how this dimension was present from the very beginning, and he takes us on a compelling journey through Bowie’s searching.

Writing the Book He Wanted to Read

Peter says that after first hearing Hunky Dory at seventeen, his growing obsession with Bowie left him fascinated by the spiritual dimension of Bowie’s creative drive. Other writers had touched on this in passing, but no one had really followed it through in depth.

So Peter ended up writing the book he wanted to read.

Bowie as Mirror Ball, Not Chameleon

In our conversation, we talk about Bowie’s legacy as something like a mirror ball. Shine a light on him and you get countless reflections. Everyone seems to have their own version of who Bowie was, something that became especially visible after his death.

He’s often framed through the lens of “ch-ch-ch-changes”, the chameleon of rock. But Peter challenges this reading. The more he researched, read, and listened, the more those changes appeared to be a natural outpouring of a deeper spiritual quest.

For experimental people, this can feel familiar. The outer paths shift, but the underlying question remains.

Spirituality Without a Vocabulary

A “spiritual interest” is often dismissed as a celebrity hobby, something that pops up and disappears. Peter makes a strong case that this wasn’t the case for Bowie.

Part of the difficulty is that we don’t really have a shared vocabulary for this territory, which is why we fall back on words like spirituality. Bowie himself was fond of the saying, “Religion is for people who believe in Hell. Spirituality is for people who have been there.”

He was sharply critical of religious institutions when he felt they corrupted the message of love at the heart of Christianity. For Bowie, spirituality wasn’t ornamental. It was essential to how he related to his life, his work, and his place in the universe.

Seeking Without Arrival

Through the seeking you will find. Not seeking to reach a destination, but seeking as a way of being.

Why didn’t Bowie give up? What was he seeking? What was he finding? There were clearly things he encountered that made atheism feel insufficient, even when he was tempted by it.

If Bowie arrives anywhere, Peter suggests it’s something like this: life is a gift, and love is the point. This can sound oblique, but Peter traces it clearly in Bowie’s later work.

What we’re left with is the result of that searching, a remarkable body of work that we can return to, live with, and explore.

Creativity, Humanness, and Collaboration

There’s a danger in how Bowie is remembered. He can be lifted out of humanness, made to seem like an exception rather than a person.

Bowie wrote bad songs. He made misfires. All of it belonged to the same quest.

He’s sometimes misread as an unrooted artist, endlessly reinventing himself, but he was deeply sensitive to place and time. He always worked with others. He needed bands, collaborators, and creative relationships. His best work emerged through collaboration, not isolation.

Smuggling Meaning Rather Than Preaching It

Bowie was political, but he didn’t see political expression as his strongest artistic voice. He admired bands like The Clash for carrying that role more directly. This raises an interesting question about what we expect from celebrated figures, and how easily we project our demands onto them.

Bowie was more of a smuggler. At Live Aid, he played a song and showed a video instead. Let’s Dance sounds like it’s about one thing, but it’s really about something else. Much of his music did a similar thing.

This was the mark of his artistry. He invited a conversation rather than delivering a message. He trusted listeners to discover depth for themselves, without it being spoon-fed.

And for experimental people especially, that kind of invitation matters. It honours the idea that the path keeps unfolding, even when the question underneath remains the same.

https://the-haven.co/zine

Some tools are built to help us grow; to learn, connect, or reach meaningful goals. But eventually, we might ask: are these tools still working for us, or have they hooked us and quietly turned us into their tool?

This question has been on my mind since I started using Duolingo seventy-six days ago. I had just returned from a trip to Finland and wanted to keep learning a bit of Finnish: nothing too intense, just some gentle exposure to the language each day. From what others had said, Duolingo seemed like the ideal tool.

I started on the free version. It offered just enough. However, I was soon being nudged constantly toward the premium upgrade. Eventually, I gave in and accepted the offer of a 7-day trial. Before I knew it, £68.99 was taken from my account. Dagh! I had forgotten to cancel in time. That was frustrating. But what I noticed next was fascinating.

Over time, I realised I was no longer using Duolingo to expand my learning outside of the app. I was using it to keep my streak alive inside it.

It works. And it works well. But it also works against us (and our bigger picture aspirations).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N8tC3VtbgSk The Hook Model in Action

This shift in behaviour mirrors the “Hook Model” described by Nir Eyal in his book Hooked, which outlines how habit-forming products are designed to draw us in and keep us there.

The hook model follows a four-step cycle:

• Trigger – External cues like notifications or internal ones like guilt or fear of missing out.
• Action – The easiest possible behaviour in response to the trigger, like opening the app or doing a lesson.
• Variable Reward – Unpredictable reinforcement like badges, praise, or social validation that keeps us engaged.
• Investment – The time, energy, or money we’ve already poured into the product, which makes it harder to walk away.

This system is incredibly effective at building engagement, but it often does so by subtly shifting our focus from what we originally cared about to what keeps the platform profitable.

When the Tool Hooks Us

What starts as a helpful tool can morph into a system that prioritises retention over transformation.

Only 0.1% of Duolingo users ever complete a full course. That isn’t a design flaw; it’s the business model. The goal is not to help us complete something, but to keep us inside the ecosystem.

Duolingo began nudging me toward other courses I hadn’t asked for. Music theory. Chess. It was no longer about Finnish. It was about keeping me engaged, clicking, and coming back.

This is when a tool becomes a trap, not because it stops working, but because it starts working too well at the wrong thing (keeping us engaged).

From Motivation to Manipulation

This isn’t just about language apps. It’s about how many of our digital experiences are shaped by systems designed to extract our wealth and capture our attention, energy, and even our identity.

In Punished by Rewards, Alfie Kohn warns that external motivators like badges, praise, or pizza vouchers for reading not only influence behaviour but also diminish it. Over time, we stop asking “Why do I care about this?” and instead ask “What do I get for it?”

In The Burnout Society, philosopher Byung-Chul Han argues that we have shifted from a culture of external discipline to one of internalised self-optimisation. We no longer rely on a manager or teacher to pressure us; instead, we pressure ourselves. Rest is viewed as a failure. Play is considered wasted time. Self-worth is now linked to productivity.

Apps like Duolingo thrive in this cultural moment. They don’t just support our goals; they reshape them. We start wanting to learn a language and end up wanting to maintain a streak. What once felt like growth begins to feel like a contract we’re stuck in.

The Rocket Booster Test

Good tools (as well as teachers, programs, coaches, therapists, etc) should be like solid rocket boosters: they help us launch, but they’re meant to fall away once we’ve reached a certain point.

Before we start, we might ask:

• Have we agreed on the point at which we will jettison this process before we start?
• How will I know it’s time to let go and move on?

When we’re engaged with a process, partnership, or tool, we can ask:

• Is this tool still helping us move forward?
• Is it aligned with my original goals?
• Or are we simply feeding it our time and attention because of what we’ve already invested?

The presence of a badge, a streak, or a cheer from a virtual friend shouldn’t be the thing keeping us there. There must be something more intrinsically motivating.

Letting the Streak Die

It’s difficult to walk away from something we’ve invested in, especially when it gave us value at some point. But growth often requires us to assess whether something useful has now become a hindrance.

Letting go of the streak, app, system, or partnership can seem like failure. If it feels that way, it might be a sign that it’s got other interests at heart. So, letting go might be an act of gentle rebellious liberation.

Just because something “works” doesn’t mean it’s working for us.

Many of the platforms we use today were born out of a positive vision: to help us learn, connect, and form habits. But in a system that prioritises engagement and monetisation, that original purpose often becomes secondary.

When we start to notice what’s holding us involved, and why, we create room to choose differently.

We can honour the tools that helped us without becoming dependent on them. We can jettison what no longer serves us. And we can return to a way of learning, creating, and growing that is rooted in meaning, not metrics.

Unhooking Ourselves

Maybe it starts with a simple act: letting the streak die.

It took from Thursday to Monday to finally kill my streak – without consent, I received streak freezes and gifts to keep it going. It was interesting to see how hard it was in the end and how desperately Duolingo wanted me to maintain that investment.

https://the-haven.co/pick-the-lock/

“Let’s go around the room and introduce ourselves with your name and something interesting about you”. Does that icebreaker moment fill you with joy?

If not, you’re not alone.

But is it simply a matter of preferences, or are there deeper processes at play when it comes to disliking icebreaker activities? That’s what we explore in this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast .

https://youtu.be/GCkwfYppGNM What Does “Highly Sensitive” Mean?

High sensitivity is a term used to describe the scientifically recognised trait known as sensory processing sensitivity . It’s not a disorder, but a biological trait found in around 20-30% of the population. Highly sensitive people have more finely tuned nervous systems that absorb and process sensory and emotional input more deeply.

More sensitive nervous systems naturally absorb larger volumes of environmental data and process it deeply. This means HSPs (those who score higher for sensitivity along a universal continuum), are more sensitive to social nuances and more susceptible to the effects of social stimulation. They may need time to pause and calibrate when entering unfamiliar environments and meeting new people.

Icebreaking or Ice-Melting?

This episode builds on the previous one about “social sensitivity“.

I use the metaphor of making, breaking, and melting ice to frame what happens in social settings:

• Making Ice : The natural protective barrier that forms as we orient ourselves in new environments.
• Breaking Ice : Attempts to force through that barrier, often too fast and without consent.
• Melting Ice : A gradual, relational process where connection develops at a sustainable pace.

Icebreaker: What’s the most horrific icebreaker you’ve ever had to do? (I would love to know!)

Icebreaker activities are intended to reduce tension and help people connect quickly. But there may be times when, for HSPs, they have the opposite effect. Instead of inviting a sense of warm welcome, they can put the nervous system on the defence, unnecessarily using up energy and inner resources. This is especially true when we’re asked to perform, share personal details, or think on the spot.

In the episode, I share a few stories (including one from my time as an undertaker) that highlight this tension, and explore how the expectation to “come out of our shell” can become a subtle form of social pressure.

Why Icebreakers Often Backfire

Many highly sensitive people need time to pause and check before jumping into social interaction. This isn’t about fear or social anxiety — it’s a natural regulation strategy that helps us process our surroundings and determine if it’s safe to engage.

When that pause is misinterpreted as shyness or resistance, we can feel judged or pushed to open up before we’re ready. Over time, this can reinforce feelings of shame or self-doubt in social settings.

There is a difference between disclosure and trust . Jumping into “fun facts” can leave us feeling exposed rather than connected. This may linger in the nervous system through regret and shame.

What Helps Highly Sensitive People Connect?

We’re not just here to dunk on icebreakers though. I also offer some reflections on what helps melt the ice more gently for HSPs, including:

• Setting clear expectations and permissions (e.g. “It’s OK not to speak”)
• Creating space for people to arrive in their own time
• Modelling honesty, humour, or gentle vulnerability
• Avoiding performative tasks or forced introductions
• Recognising the value of awkwardness and letting it be

These insights are especially useful if you’re designing group sessions, facilitating meetings, or simply want to understand how to support the sensitive people in your life.

Have you ever been in a room and sensed social dynamics beneath the surface before a word was spoken? Perhaps you’ve noticed (consciously or unconsciously) a subtle glance, a shift in posture, or a hint of tension between the lines. If so, you’re not alone. This kind of social sensitivity is part of being a highly sensitive person (HSP).

This episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast is the first in a series that will explore the social dimensions of sensory processing sensitivity, the biological trait underlying high sensitivity. I’ll be drawing on ideas from The HSP Owner’s Guide, a mini-zine resource I created with Tuula, which is designed to help HSPs explore and discuss sensitivity as a normal aspect of being human.

https://youtu.be/DFiJHxI9Qko What is Social Sensitivity?

Social sensitivity refers to how highly sensitive individuals perceive and respond to emotional cues, interpersonal dynamics, and the tone of their environment. It’s not a learned skill or a conscious choice; it’s a normal variation in biological traits.

More sensitive nervous systems naturally absorb larger volumes of environmental data and process it deeply. This means HSPs (those who score higher for sensitivity along a universal continuum), are more sensitive to social nuances and more susceptible to the effects of social stimulation.

What is Sensory Processing Sensitivity?

SPS is a trait found in 20–30% of the population (not just humans). It means that some are biologically wired to process more sensory input around us (environment), within us (internal), and between us (social). This trait can make someone more emotionally responsive, detail-aware, and easily overstimulated.

Despite stereotypes and associations with the term, it’s not often easy to tell a highly sensitive person by looking at them. You might even look calm and collected on the outside when your system is working overtime beneath the surface.

Social Sensitivity and Early Learning

The nervous system informs thoughts and feelings in response to a perception of safety or danger from cues and triggers. The way we interpret social data isn’t always “objectively true”, particularly if we grew up in unpredictable or critical environments. This pattern recognition can shape how we experience social settings well into adulthood.

That’s why intuition can be both a strength and a vulnerability for sensitive people. It’s wise to ask: Is this gut feeling rooted in the present, or the past?

Key Elements of Social Sensitivity in HSPs Heightened Awareness of Social Nuance

More sensitive individuals might be attuned to micro-expressions, body language, tone changes, and subtle group dynamics. This can give them a natural ability to “read the room,” but it can also lead to emotional absorption and a tendency to take responsibility for others’ discomfort.

Not every HSP reacts the same way. Some feel compelled to help, others want to escape the weight of unspoken tensions. Personality, personal history, and social roles all play a part.

Deep Emotional Responsiveness

Many highly sensitive people feel others’ emotions deeply. This allows for strong empathy and attunement, but also risks emotional contagion—carrying other people’s emotional weight without realising it.

Brain studies suggest that those on the more sensitive end exhibit increased activity in areas associated with emotional processing. But this doesn’t mean you’re doomed to feel overwhelmed by uncontrollable sources of emotion. With awareness and practice, it’s possible to separate your emotions from those of others and develop healthy emotional boundaries.

Rejection Sensitivity and the Need to Belong

HSPs might be particularly attuned to signs of rejection or disapproval, whether real or imagined. Some develop habits of withdrawing or masking to avoid being perceived as “too much” or “too sensitive.” I’ve noticed a few people suddenly and unexpectedly leave the Haven community after becoming more deeply involved socially. I wonder if this arises from the uncertainty of finding people who “get” and accept them. This sense of safety can feel jarring to a nervous system that has developed patterns of protection to remain hidden in the background.

This response often starts early, especially if sensitivity was criticised or misunderstood. However, the good news is that it can change. When HSPs are met with consistent emotional safety and acceptance, those old protective patterns can start to soften. That’s one reason I hope places like The Haven can feel like safe homes people can return to, even after a sudden exit (or several).

Strong Desire for Harmony

HSPs might seek to avoid conflict, not because they’re passive, but because their nervous system registers relational tension as a source of danger. This can lead to withdrawing or over-accommodating, but it can also lead to creative problem-solving that helps groups navigate conflict with care and compassion.

Understanding these nuances is key. We don’t all respond the same way. Some step in to soothe, while others step back to protect themselves.

The Shaping Power of Environment

Sensitivity is not static. It’s a relational trait that’s shaped by context. The same person who feels shut down in one group can feel vibrant and confident in another.

In critical or chaotic environments, HSPs might shrink. In a nurturing one, they can flourish. That’s why sensitivity is best understood as a dynamic interaction between biology and the environment, rather than a deterministic trait or fixed limitation.

Everyday Signs of Social Sensitivity

Social sensitivity shapes how your nervous system responds to people and environments. You might:

• Quickly sense the “emotional temperature” of a room.
• Mirror others’ posture, expressions, or energy without realising it.
• Struggle to focus in emotionally charged spaces.
• Replay conversations in your head (often at night!)
• Crave deep connection, but need time alone to recover.
• Appear flat or disengaged while internally processing a lot.

None of this is wrong—it’s simply how your system interacts with the world. For example, I often need a day to recover from a socially stimulating event, especially if I didn’t sleep well afterwards from all the internal replaying.

Sensitivity is Not a Flaw or a Superpower

Sensitivity is often framed as either a weakness or a gift. But the reality is more nuanced. It’s a neutral trait that belongs to a spectrum we are all on.

In cultures that value pace and emotional restraint, sensitivity can be perceived as a liability. But in communities that value presence and nuance, it becomes a strength. This concept lies at the heart of the differential susceptibility theory, which posits that the more sensitive a person is, the greater the impact the environment has on them, for better or worse.

A More Grounded Way to Relate to Sensitivity

So, how do we move forward with social sensitivity as highly sensitive people?

We might begin by stepping away from extremes. You don’t need to deny your sensitivity—or make it your entire identity. Instead, build a gentler relationship with it. Explore how your system responds to various settings. Notice which relationships feel nourishing and which ones leave you depleted.

Sensitivity isn’t a performance. Embracing sensitivity is not about being the most empathic or insightful person in the room. It’s about allowing it to rise up in each of us so it becomes a collective strength we can make the most of and enjoy together.

It has been said that “ Creativity is the art of concealing your sources .” But what does that mean? Is it about passing off other people’s work as your own? Or is it less about copying influences and more about concealing them like seeds in the soil?

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast , we explore what this looks like and consider the impact on our natural creative spirit when we do (or don’t) conceal our sources in healthy ways.

https://youtu.be/jgNccDK_MH0?si=5CQCaXnvHZWbaEoP

The randomiser prompt wheel selected this phrase for me on Tuesday ahead of our Serenity Island Picnic. I’ll be honest, when I first saw “Creativity is the art of concealing your sources”, I was tempted to spin again. But, I gave it a go and found a few interesting threads to pull at.

Concealing Our Sources Like Seeds

Concealing our sources about misleading or deceiving. It’s about letting inspiration settle deep enough that it becomes more than it is. Like planting a seed. We don’t bury seeds to hide them; we bury them so they can grow. Our influences need space, time, and darkness to take root and become unique to us.

This applies not just to creative work, but to life itself.

When Sources Weigh Us Down

Sometimes, a source casts a heavy shadow. I remember when I started writing songs and held everything up to my Thom Yorke-ometer. I compared what I created with what I believed Radiohead would produce, ignoring the other sounds and voices that wanted to be involved. This had an impact on my creative freedom until I let go of the desire to emulate the music I loved, capturing instead what truly inspired me about the band.

The Subtle Power of Concealment

The word “conceal” can sound suspicious, like trickery or withholding. But it can also be a positive source of protection and consent. Sometimes we need to conceal our sources from those who want to steal, exploit, or imitate without effort. Or those who want more information than we are comfortable or willing to share.

We also sometimes need to conceal our sources from ourselves, especially when they become yardsticks for comparison and judgement. When a parent, mentor, or idol takes up too much space in our heads, our actions can become reactions. Instead of creating from a place of freedom, we’re trying to impress, appease, or prove something.

Our Creative Lineage

At the beginning of Meditations, Marcus Aurelius devotes an entire section to acknowledging how family members, teachers, and the gods (both directly and indirectly) shaped his character, values, and worldview. For example, honesty from his father, humility from his mentor, resilience from hardship, etc. This collection starts on a platform that essentially rejects the romaticised idea we often hear about today with people described as “self-made”.

I thought about the deep processing a highly sensitive person does and the impact of SO many things on influencing who and how we become.

Each of us has a creative lineage/heritage. We are shaped by countless sources—people, experiences, stories, relationships, and chance encounters. Some sources give us strength, others weigh us down with expectations and demands.

Some we learn directly from (we receive wisdom from the example they set). Others we learn indirectly from (we are invited to grow in response to the example they set). We are all a messy mix. And while we are infused by them, we are not defined by them.

Here are some reflection questions we used in our Serenity Island picnic earlier this week.

• Who or what would you consider part of your creative lineage?
• What part of that lineage feels overgrown, overweight, or overbearing right now?
• What might shift if you pared that influence back, cut it out, or intentionally replanted it as a new seed again?
• Which elements of your lineage would you like to feature more of and amplify in your life?

Creativity isn’t about pretending we’re original. It’s about transformation. It’s about letting sources become part of our soil, rather than dragging them around like monuments we have to live up to.

Let them settle, shape, and grow.

What do you think of when you hear the words A Still Life?

A bowl of fruit? A serene person, undisturbed by the world’s noise. Stagnation and stuckness. The quiet, hope-filled whisper that reminds you that no matter how it feels or where you are right now, you still have life within you. Another chapter waiting to be written.

We’ve been reading Josie George’s memoir, A Still Life, in The Haven book club. After Josie joined us at last weekend’s discussion, I’ve been reflecting on the meaning of stillness and its many forms and flavours. It’s a fascinating word to think about!

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast , we explore the layers of stillness in the book. From the stifling slowness imposed by illness or circumstance, to the deep, peaceful resilience that absorbs life’s ripples without breaking. Stillness can be a captured moment in art, a book, or a song. It’s a framed snapshot in time.

https://youtu.be/dTHv2AhDDpI The Noise of Shallow Rivers vs. the Depth of Still Waters

There’s an old proverb: “Shallow rivers are noisy. Deep lakes are silent.” I recently heard a deep lake that was anything but silent but 🤫, I’ll try not to undermine the metapho!) Here’s that noisy lake if you’re interested.

https://soundcloud.com/andymort/the-ice-speaks-sounds-from-a-frozen-lake?si=e0700c22185544feb88c55e301a994ec&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

A noisy life might be shallow, and a shallow life can be noisy. Distractions bombard us. A flow of news to react to, unexpected notifications, and endless demands sweep us downriver without control. But stillness isn’t just about silence. It can also be unwanted: feeling stuck in the reeds, thrashing against stagnation, longing to move but unable to for various reasons.

Josie’s memoir sits at this intersection. Her “still life” is informed by a chronic, mysterious illness that requires daily rest to stay near “any kind of wellness.” Yet her story isn’t about overcoming this adversity. The obstacle isn’t the way. The obstacle is an obstacle. And yet, Josie finds ways to live despite it.

A Memoir Without a Blueprint

Most personal development books follow a formula:

1. I faced a challenge.
2. I conquered it.
3. Here’s how you can too.

Josie’s book gently subverts that framework. There’s no cure, no tidy resolution or subversive workaround. Instead, it is a poetic, honest snapshot of a life filled with pain, joy, and quiet connection. It doesn’t tell readers how to feel or what to think. Instead, it invites us to rest in her perspective, to witness her seasons and spirals.

“A book can sit on your shelf, unread, underestimated for years, and when you finally pick it up, you find it changes you. It was always going to, one day. You can live with yourself in much the same way.”

This idea resonates deeply. How many unread books (proverbial or otherwise) await the right moment to transform us? We can’t force them, but we can wait.

Truth, Visibility, and the Courage to Be Seen

One passage from the book struck a bunch of us in the book club:

“Either I believe that illness, pain, and our naturally chaotic minds are something undesirable and shameful—and so hide myself—or I don’t. And oh God, I don’t. If I don’t, then I have to start being braver with my visibility and my truth.

Truth, in this sense, doesn’t stay still. It shifts as we grow, and so do the stories we tell about ourselves. Not because the stories change, but because we do.

Stillness as Rebellion

“Being someone who rests in a world that glorifies work above all else, is to be an alien among your own kind.”

Josie’s stillness is a gentle rebellion. Despite many systemic barriers, it’s a commitment to joy, curiosity, and creativity. She doesn’t spin pain into a “gift” or preach toxic positivity. Instead, she offers this metaphor:

“I am not the weather. I am the wide and open sky, and so I can let pain move through me and out of me.”

We are not our struggles, our successes, or our failures. We are the sky. The witness behind and beneath those thoughts, feelings, and events that move through us.

Creativity as a Tool for Healing

A Still Life is a beautiful example of how creativity helps us re-enter our stories. Writing, art, or music allows us to look at the past with new eyes, to prepare the soil for new growth. Healing past wounds isn’t a linear process to be forced or rushed; it’s seasonal, cyclical. As Josie shows, a creative practice gives us room to:

• Experiment without pressure to get heavy and meaningful.
• Let truths emerge when they’re ready.
• Rebel against stories that shrink our spirit.

A Still Life isn’t a guidebook or blueprint to follow. It’s an invitation to see differently. To gently rebel against a world that prizes motion, hustle, productivity, and restless action over wellbeing. Josie’s stillness is both a necessity and a choice, a way to “leave a gap” for attention, love, and possibility.

The task is simple…

“Pay attention, be brave, see the truth, write it down. That will always be enough.”

Follow Josie Down The Rabbit Hole: https://linktr.ee/wonderlandletters

This post elaborates on the sensitivity research section of The HSP Owner’s Guide.

Differential susceptibility is a key concept in high-sensitivity research. In simple terms, it means that the more sensitive you are, the more your environment impacts you. As a highly sensitive person (HSP), you might notice that some people thrive in situations where you feel discombobulated. Conversely, when conditions feel right, you may experience more intense joy, connection, and growth than others.

It’s the idea that some people are more responsive to their environment—for better or worse. For HSPs, this heightened responsiveness is a defining trait linked to their depth of processing, shaping how they experience life. However, it’s important to remember that not all HSPs are the same. Sensitivity is just one part of who we are, and how we respond to our environments can vary widely.

https://youtu.be/GIIKRuy5TOw What is Differential Susceptibility?

Differential susceptibility means that the more sensitive someone is, the more influence their environment has on them. We might think of it like a spectrum of responsiveness. On one end, some people are like sturdy structures, able to adapt to a wide range of conditions without much change. On the other hand, many HSPs are finely tuned instruments that process their environment in depth. This can allow them to thrive in supportive settings but may also make them more vulnerable in harsh ones.

For many HSPs, this means they are deeply affected by their upbringing, current environment, and the people around them. In favourable conditions, they may flourish more intensely than others, finding creative flow, experiencing strong empathy, and having deep insights. In unfavourable conditions, they might struggle more than others, feeling overstimulated or drained, unable to utilise the and share the fruits of their high sensitivity.

This heightened responsiveness isn’t a weakness—it’s a unique way of engaging with the world that comes with challenges and strengths. That said, again to reiterate, not all HSPs will respond the same way. Sensitivity interacts with other aspects of personality, life experiences, and individual differences.

How Does Differential Susceptibility Shape Our Lives?

Differential susceptibility shows up in tangible ways for many HSPs. Here’s how it might play out: maybe you recognise your own experiences in these examples:

Growing Up: The Impact of Early Environments

Supportive Upbringing: If an HSP grows up in a nurturing environment (where their sensitivity is understood and valued) they are more likely to develop strong emotional intelligence, creativity, and resilience.

Challenging Upbringing: If an HSP grows up in a less supportive environment (where their sensitivity was dismissed or criticised), they might have learned to hide their true self, leading to feelings of disconnection or self-doubt.

For example, imagine an HSP who grew up in a chaotic and unpredictable household. If there is constant noise or tension, that person’s nervous system is more likely to be dysregulated, overstimulated and seeking safety from unsafe sources. They may assume the “tiny adult” role, feeling responsible for trying to keep the environment ‘in balance’ by fawning, people pleasing, monitoring moods (over empathy). But if that same HSP had grown up in a calm, supportive home, they might have thrived, using their sensitivity to connect deeply with others and appreciate life’s beauty.

Adulthood: Creating Nurturing Environments

Favourable Conditions: When HSPs are in environments that honour their sensitivity, such as a peaceful home, a supportive workplace, or a close-knit community, they often bring incredible strengths. They may notice what others miss, create spaces of warmth and connection, and approach challenges creatively and empathetically.

Unfavourable Conditions: In overwhelming or unsupportive environments, like a stressful job, a toxic family, or a sensory-heavy space, HSPs may struggle. They might feel drained, overstimulated, or unable to express themselves fully. This can lead to burnout.

For example, picture an HSP working in a fast-paced, noisy office. The constant buzz that others overlook might leave them exhausted and unable to focus. However, if the same HSP performs the same job in a calm, flexible environment, they may shine, bringing thoughtful ideas and a deep sense of care to their work.

The Strengths HSPs Bring When They Feel Safe

When HSPs are in environments that support their sensitivity, they often bring unique gifts:

• Deep Empathy: Many HSPs are highly attuned to the emotions of others, making them compassionate friends, partners, and colleagues.
• Creativity and Insight: Their ability to notice subtleties and make connections can lead to innovative ideas and solutions.
• Thoughtful Leadership: HSPs often approach challenges with care and consideration, creating spaces where others feel heard and valued.
• Appreciation for Beauty: Whether it’s art, nature, or human connection, many HSPs have a unique ability to find and create beauty in the world.

In Unfavourable Conditions

What happens when HSPs are in environments that don’t support their sensitivity?

Empathy:
HSPs might feel overwhelmed by others’ emotions, absorbing stress or negativity. This can lead to emotional exhaustion or withdrawal.
Example: In a toxic workplace or social situations, an HSP might avoid interacting with others to cope with constant conflict.

Overthinking or Paralysis:
Their ability to notice subtleties can turn into overanalysing, making decisions or taking action difficult.
Example: An HSP on a high-pressure project might procrastinate, worried about mistakes or others’ opinions.

People-Pleasing or Avoidance:
Their desire to create harmony can lead to prioritising others’ needs over their own or avoiding leadership roles to escape stress.
Example: An HSP leader might say yes to every request, risking burnout to avoid disappointing others.

Sensitivity to Chaos:
Their appreciation for beauty can make them deeply unsettled by clutter, noise, or negativity, disrupting focus and peace.
Example: An HSP in a noisy, cluttered space might feel on edge, struggling to relax or concentrate.

General Responses:

• Physical Symptoms: Stress may show up as headaches, fatigue, or digestive issues.
• Emotional Sensitivity: They might react strongly to criticism or conflict, taking things personally.
• Binging on Solitude: Craving alone time, they might hoard or overindulge in isolation when overwhelmed.

How to Nurture Your Sensitivity (No Matter Your Past)

If you’re an HSP who grew up in less favourable conditions, it’s never too late to create an environment that honours your sensitivity. This isn’t about adding more to your plate or forcing yourself to change. It’s about gently exploring what helps you feel safe, seen, and supported. Here are some ways to begin:

• Create a Safe Space: Imagine having a little corner of the world that feels like a sanctuary—a place where you can breathe deeply and feel at ease. This might mean adding soft lighting, calming colours, or items that bring you comfort and joy.
• Honour Your Boundaries: It’s okay to say no to situations or people that drain your energy. Start small—maybe it’s turning down an invitation when you’re feeling overwhelmed or setting aside quiet time for yourself each day.
• Seek Supportive Connections: Surround yourself with people who understand and appreciate your sensitivity. This might mean working with a professional therapist/coach/mentor, joining a community, or building friendships with other HSPs.
• Be Kind to Yourself: Your sensitivity is not a flaw—it’s a unique way of experiencing the world. Treat yourself with the same compassion you’d offer a dear friend.
• Advocate for Your Needs: Speaking up for yourself can be challenging, especially if you’ve been conditioned to prioritise the needs of others at the expense of your own. Begin by envisioning yourself advocating for someone you genuinely care about, such as another HSP or someone whose needs are frequently overlooked at home, work, or social settings.

Embracing Your Sensitivity Despite Differential Susceptibility

Differential susceptibility isn’t about being “too sensitive”; it’s about the relationship we share with the world within, around, and between us. It offers a unique opportunity to enhance our experience of life and thrive in ways that others might not. Naturally, the flipside of this is that difficult environments can leave us struggling. However, with a bit of awareness to recognise our needs and the people around us who understand us, we can create lives that truly support and sustain us.

Over to You

What about you? Have you noticed how your environment affects you? Can you think of an environment or aspect of life where your sensitivity feels like a hindrance at the moment?

May the road rise to meet you.

My note from a slow coach this week reflects on Baltic endorphins, some internal torment due to a decision made by my past self that my present self didn’t appreciate, and a poem contemplating whether adventure is always just around the corner. It’s an excerpt from a journal entry a couple of weeks ago when I was in Finland.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w_VzkTNi53E

I’m still feeling invigorated from last night’s dip in the Baltic Sea. I don’t know if it’s the exhilaration of spending 90 seconds in 4-degree (Celsius) water or the satisfaction I feel from following through on my intention. Something caught me when I looked across the water a few days ago—a pull I couldn’t ignore. The idea of getting in the water was great. Until it was time to do it.

What was I thinking?

The two hours leading up to my plunge were filled with antsy-pantsy pacing and flip-flopping. I was not amused by my decision. Still, I knew that if I didn’t go through with it, the regret of missing this opportunity would far outweigh the momentary despair of doing something I knew would be wildly rewarding (once I resurfaced and was safely ensconced in the sauna—my happy place).

This morning’s inner calm is a blend of satisfaction and physical aliveness. The sauna not only offered a delightful reward for completing my challenge but also enhanced the experience. The contrast of fire and ice creates a unique sensation.

Forever on the horizon

This morning, I am returning to the list of phrases and ideas we developed at the start of our month of “Adventure” in The Haven. I had intended to use one each morning in my journal practice, but it hasn’t happened yet. No problem, I am up for it today. Now.

I spin the wheel, and it throws “Adventure is waiting just beyond view” onto the screen. I don’t think it’s a saying, but it feels familiar. Similar to the idea that adventure (or growth) lies on the other side of your comfort zone.

I’ve always had a complex relationship with these platitudinal sayings. They carry kernels of truth for particular situations but are often espoused as universal, all-encompassing statements of fact.

May the branch rise to meet them

My eyes are drawn through the window. My first coffee of the day is on the cabinet beside me. Adventure is waiting just beyond view. Those words feel coarse to me here. Itchy. Like an irritant on my skin. I can see a squirrel moving effortlessly through the trees and a crow perched on a breeze-flexed branch above, and I wonder if they ever wonder about these things.

It’s tempting to get caught up in the assumption that everything good is just beyond view. It’s the engine of consumer culture, the ideology of endless striving. Like a perpetual mirage, we see the reward, but it moves further as we get closer.

“Just a little further” becomes a mantra in the meditation of hustle. Advice is cheap and contradictory.

I am interested in how we can develop a more nuanced and healthy relationship with growth, purpose, and flow in life.

If adventure is forever around the corner, what am I overlooking right here? To feel settled without settling and expectant without expecting.

Isn’t this moment the adventure that was just around the corner from that previous one? I think of the old blessing: “May the road rise to meet you.” Maybe that’s the real adventure—the road meeting us where we are.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bjJXAL40MC4 May the flow rise to meet you

From the edge of this perch,
I strain my neck to watch a squirrel
dart, weightless, certain of the branches
that will reach out and catch her
with every flight, twist, and descent.

Is it true that I can find an
Adventure waiting just beyond view?

If I round the corner.
If I push the button.
If I make the call.
If I am patient.
If I lead.
If I trust the process.
If I take a step.
If I listen.
If I dare.
If I follow.
If I let this grow.
If I am brave.
If I am gentle.
If I put it out there.
If I stop forcing it.
If I let go.
If I pick up.
If I let come.
If I go forth.

A blackbird offers its weight
to a quietly accommodating branch.
I notice now
my body perched on this old horizon.

I will rest here a while,
inside this adventure,
once beyond view.
The next one takes care of itself.

The sauna’s heat and the sea’s shock—slow out-breath against sudden gasp. My nerves crackled right up to the edge, then dissolved into the oldest rhythm: stillness after motion, motion after stillness—no need to choose. Just take the step and let the flow rise to meet you.

https://the-haven.co/pick-the-lock/

In a world obsessed with productivity, competition, and the “hero’s journey,” Natsu Miyashita’s The Forest of Wool and Steel shines a quietly revolutionary light on something altogether different.

This book is a balm for those who’ve felt out of step with society’s narrow definitions of success or crave a deeper, slower, more meaningful way of living.

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, I explore what I took as its key themes and why they feel so radical in today’s hustle culture.

Beyond “Finding Your Purpose”

Society often frames purpose as something we discover “out there” – a preordained destiny waiting to be unlocked. But The Forest of Wool and Steel shows us something subtler: purpose isn’t discovered in that way; it’s woven through our responses to chance encounters.

The protagonist, Tomura, stumbles into piano tuning after a random school errand. What captivates him isn’t some grand mission but a moment of sensory awe:

“His whole body trembled. It was like hearing colour.”

This moment isn’t about the piano giving him purpose; it’s about how the piano helps reveal what was ready to resonate within him. The novel suggests that any object, experience, or moment can become a doorway to the forest if we’re listening.

High Sensitivity as an Ordinary Feature of Humanity

Unlike narratives that treat sensitivity as a flaw or a superpower, Miyashita normalises it as simply part of being human. Tomura and his mentors experience the world with a depth of processing.

One tuner feels exhausted by public telephones, billboards, and the dirt on the road. He has learned to recover through a metronome’s rhythm.

Tomura often needs time to process decisions, rejecting opportunities before slowly embracing them – a familiar experience for many HSPs.

The book’s quiet power lies in its refusal to pathologise or glorify sensitivity. Instead, it shows how deep attunement – to sound, environment, and subtlety, is the source of growth and meaning.

The Question of Success

Tomura’s apprenticeship defies every expectation of the “hero’s journey.” There are no villains, no competitions, no triumphant climax. Instead, his growth is slow, iterative, and deeply personal:

How long until I can make that sound I heard on that first day?

The novel suggests that true mastery isn’t about conquering a craft but collaborating with it and understanding with more than the mind.

In a culture obsessed with optimisation and “levelling up,” the seasonal, non-linear approach we witness here feels quietly radical.

Outgrowing Hustle Culture

The book gently critiques society’s obsession with measurable success. When Tomura’s brother mocks his belief that a piano’s sound contains “the whole world,” it mirrors how modern culture dismisses wonder in favour of utility.

Yet the novel celebrates the “useless”, the wasteful, and the ordinary:

• Knowing the names of trees
• The taste of olive oil-drizzled eggs
• The way light glistens at dawn

These moments aren’t “productive,” but they’re where meaning lives. As Tomura reflects:

“It felt to me as though nothing was a waste, but at the same time, everything was on some level a colossal waste.”

This paradox is the heart of the book’s rebellion: what if the “small” things are the big things?

Why We Resist Slowness (And How to Stop)

Critics call the book “slow” or “uneventful”, but that’s the point. Our discomfort with its pace reveals a deeper truth: we’ve been programmed to equate speed with value.

Tomura’s mentors teach him that people assume “brightness” is a synonym for better. But it’s not that simple. Similarly, the novel invites us to reflect on our relationship with depth and darkness:

• Are we afraid of stillness because it confronts us with ourselves?
• Do we mistake urgency for purpose?
• What if the “forest of wool and steel” (the unseen, sensory world) is where real creativity lives?

The answer isn’t to “do more” but to tune in.

Entrances to our Forest of Wool and Steel

The Forest of Wool and Steel isn’t a manifesto. It’s an invitation to notice, trust, and follow the intuitive sensitivities that take us beneath the noise and towards our sound.

As Tomura learns, there are entrances to the forest everywhere. The question is: can we slow down enough to notice them?

Over To You

Have you read the book? I’d love to hear your thoughts through the form below. Any responses to what I spoke about in this episode? Drop a comment or send me a message.

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When you receive help, do you perceive it as a transactional burden or as a gift?

How do you support the people, ideas, and art you admire? Do you feel disappointed when they go against your views, or do you willingly allow them the freedom to grow and evolve into whatever they might become, despite potential disagreements?

https://youtu.be/Ueyw7nSI6jc

Last year, during a Haven Phrase Maze exploration around the prompt “The Money Changed Everything,” we discussed what makes a gift a gift. We asked whether, once given, the giver of a true gift can have any justifiable feelings about what is done with it. Or if a hope or expectation turns a gift into a conditional transaction. For example, when we give someone a present, we might expect them to use it in a particular way (and not to sell it on, exchange it, or give it to someone else, for an acceptable time at least).

What impact does this obligation have on the receiver? How does this relate to our engagement with artists, public figures, and one another?

Conditional vs Unconditional Support

Are we conditional patrons, offering support only when we agree with the other person? Or are we unconditional patrons, standing by them because we believe in their how and why , even when we disagree with the substance of their particular “what”?

This is on my mind because of a comment I received on a recent YouTube video. Someone explained why they disagreed with something I had said, which is fair enough. But I was struck by the intended sucker punch at the end of the comment…

“Unsubscribed.”

That word was like a weapon; it felt like an attempt at punishment and behaviour modification. It focused on the surface rather than the source.

I know that subscribing isn’t a gift, but I couldn’t help but wonder if a similar mechanism exists in the distinction between conditional and unconditional gift-giving.

This is why I don’t tend to ask people directly to subscribe to my podcast, videos, or social media. I want it to be a choice, not a favour or transaction. I leave it for people to come and go as they like, with no pressure either way. If the time comes for us to go separate ways, that’s fine. It happens. We don’t owe one another anything. We’ve just had a nice ride along together for a bit.

Unconditional Patronage and Disagreement

Do we tie our support for people to WHAT they think or HOW and WHY they reach their conclusions?

Think about the creators, artists, or figures you follow and admire. Do you find yourself withdrawing support when they say or do something you disagree with? What would it look like to support them unconditionally, focusing on their how and why rather than a particular what?

Over the years, I have come to support people whose WAY of thinking I respect and value. Most people I follow express views I disagree with occasionally (in some cases, a lot), but I sincerely appreciate the how and why behind their ideas. The process inspires me as much as, if not more than, the outcome. It’s only if their values (the drive of their why) change that I tend to consider whether or not I want to continue supporting them. It can happen.

There is a flip-side to this coin…

“Subscribed”

It can feel validating when someone agrees with something I say and tells me they are subscribing or following me because of it. However, there is a subtle pull that can occur here. The connection between the statement they agreed with and their choice to subscribe creates a conditional presence. I might feel the pressure: “To keep them happy, I better keep saying similar things.” This can lead to a slippery slope toward mediocrity, self-censorship, and audience capture – forces we see in abundance today.

When we engage like this with people, we subtly encourage them to appeal to the crowd, avoid risks, and conform to expectations (to appease followers and provoke adversaries) rather than exploring new possibilities and navigating the nuanced space between our desire for a simplistic understanding and life’s complexities. This pattern also applies to our interpersonal relationships. We seek safety in our social bonds, and when we recognise that something pleases another person, we are more inclined to continue that behaviour.

Have you ever held back from expressing an opinion or taking a creative risk because you feared losing support or approval? How might unconditional support change that?

Unconditional Patronage and Accountability

Unconditional patronage isn’t about unquestioningly supporting someone. It’s about making our support broader than agreement and focusing on a person’s character and approach rather than the particular conclusions they reach with any given topic, project, or situation.

What I admire in artists is how they dance with their creative spirit, allowing it to guide them to potentially unexpected places. It might lead them to create works that I don’t enjoy or take directions that miss the mark for me. But that’s great – if I trust how and why they do what they do, I’m not overly invested and demanding about the outcome. I may very well come to appreciate it over time. After all, just because I don’t “get it” now doesn’t mean I won’t understand it later. That’s par for the course when engaging with artists, visionaries, and prophets.

Unconditional patronage involves creating conditions that allow individuals to be themselves and grow from that space instead of casting a shadow over them and instilling fear about the consequences of making mistakes. It does not mean granting unrestricted freedom to act or speak as they wish, with the promise of our unwavering support regardless of their actions. Instead, it provides them a secure foundation to explore, create, and develop their ideas.

Do you follow anyone whose approach you admire, even if you don’t agree with everything they say? Or have you received unconditional patronage from someone else? What difference did it make to you?

“So that You Know…I’m Unsubscribing”

While unsubscribing, unfollowing, and walking away are always valid options, announcing it raises questions about motivation. It is often a performative act. This puppetry is a way to assert control or signal disapproval, sometimes saying more about us than others. Are we punishing them for not meeting our expectations and saying what we want them to say (or reproducing the TV show, album, or book we already have a love for)?

How do you choose to do it when you need to step away? What do you value when it comes to leaving well, and how might your approach reflect those values?

The Space For Creativity

When people create out of fear of losing support (or hoping to gain it), we risk stifling creativity. This dynamic doesn’t just limit individuals; it dampens the rich pool of creative potential within us as a species.

This pressure often shows up in subtle ways. For example, imagine receiving praise, a gift, or help from someone who makes it clear they’re supporting you because they liked something particular. While their intention might be positive, it can leave you feeling indebted, pulling you away from your creative voice and into a people-pleasing cycle.

Can you think of a time when you felt pressured to reciprocate something you didn’t ask for or when you felt obligated to meet someone else’s expectations? How did it make you feel, and how did it shape your choices?

I’d love to hear your response to this post. Drop a comment or send me a message if you have anything to share.

https://the-haven.co/pick-the-lock/

People may fear giving credit because they worry it will diminish their status. But research shows the opposite is true: sharing credit actually boosts respect and trust. This paradox lies at the heart of status insecurity, a psychological trap that drives maladaptive behaviors and undermines relationships, careers, and personal wellbeing.

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, we explore the vicious cycle of status insecurity, its impact on individuals and society, and how we can gently rebel against its allure. We’ll also consider the story of self-help author Mel Robbins refusing to acknowledge poet Cassie Phillips or the pre-existing “Let Them” movement in her recent book. Does this move reflect elements of status insecurity?

What Is Status Insecurity?

Status insecurity arises when individuals feel their social standing is unstable or at risk. This can stem from comparisons with others, societal pressures, or personal failures. According to research by Katherine Hoff, Derek Rucker, and Adam Galinsky, status insecurity triggers a self-perpetuating cycle:

1. Status Insecurity: Doubts about one’s social rank or standing.
2. Compensatory Consumption: Buying luxury goods or status symbols to “prove” worth.
3. Financial Strain: Overspending leads to stress and anxiety.
4. Reinforced Status Insecurity: Financial and emotional strain further undermines self-worth.
5. Cycle Repeats: The individual doubles down on status-seeking behaviors, worsening the cycle.

This cycle is particularly prevalent in consumer-driven cultures, where status is often equated with material wealth and individual achievement.

The Reluctance to Share Credit

Status insecurity is fueled by the fear that acknowledging others’ contributions will diminish one’s own standing. Yet, studies show that sharing credit increases respect and trust. As Adam Grant shared on Instagram:

“Sharing credit doesn’t detract from your success. It displays your character. 17 studies show that when people feel insecure, they hesitate to celebrate others—and fail to earn respect.”

Ironically, withholding credit can damage credibility over time. When individuals prioritise image over integrity, they risk eroding trust and undermining their long-term reputation.

The Mel Robbins Controversy: A Case Study

The recent controversy involving self-help author Mel Robbins and the “Let Them Theory” may illustrate the dangers of status insecurity. Robbins presented the “Let Them Theory” as her own idea, omitting any acknowledgement to Cassie Phillips, whose viral “Let Them” poem and tattoo movement led to Robbins’ discovery.

This decision may have stemmed from the pressure to maintain her status as an innovative thought leader in a competitive industry that celebrates stories of “self-made” figures. Yet, as the truth has emerged, her credibility has been questioned, with many followers expressing disappointed and even feelings of betrayal.

Robbins’ experience is a cautionary tale: prioritising status over transparency doesn’t go down well in the long run. Honesty about the theory’s origins could have enhanced her reputation, demonstrating humility and collaboration—qualities audiences value.

The Broader Implications of Status Insecurity

On Individuals: It leads to stress, anxiety, burnout, and self-sabotaging behaviors like overworking or people-pleasing.

On Relationships: It fosters competition, jealousy, and transactional interactions, making genuine connections harder to form.

I once knew someone trapped in this mindset. Every conversation turned into an opportunity to boast about their achievements and experiences. Over time, the group grew exasperated, and this person was inadvertently left out of the proverbial weekend brunch invitation. Their presence created tension and unease because they believed that name-dropping, one-upping, and status-signalling were ways to impress rather than frustrate us.

Breaking the Cycle: Gently Rebellious Alternatives

We can avoid the dangers of status insecurity by recognising that the harder we fight for it, the worse it gets. To address it, we might adopt practices that prioritise collaboration, authenticity, and collective well-being…

1. Give Credit: Acknowledge others’ contributions. This doesn’t diminish your worth—it enhances trust and respect.
2. Change the Conversation: Focus on non-status topics like hobbies, values, and the stuff that you’re enjoying. This can strengthen relationships, reduce unhealthy comparison, and foster collaboration potential.
3. Celebrate Collective Success: Shift the focus from individual achievements to team or community accomplishments.
4. Define Success on Your Own Terms: Reflect on what truly brings you fulfillment, beyond societal expectations.

Reshaping Our Definition of Success

Status insecurity is a symptom of a culture that equates worth with external validation. By redefining success in terms of collective well-being, collaboration, and personal fulfillment, we can break free from this vicious cycle.

The Mel Robbins controversy serves as a reminder: prioritising image over integrity can backfire, while honesty and humility build lasting trust. How might we challenge the systems that perpetuate status insecurity and create a culture for all of us?

Over to You

Have you ever felt the pressure to prove your worth or status (or been around someone who was caught in this way of thinking)? How did it affect you? I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. Drop a comment or send a message.

https://youtu.be/jkKeK-gdxao https://the-haven.co/zine

Where do you see yourself in five years?

Does that question fill you with excitement, or a sense of dread?

We are wired differently.

For many people, myself included, the question is not difficult to answer because we lack imagination. It is difficult because it speaks a different language from our natural way of being. We are not compelled by any outcome-oriented approach to planning, conceiving, or measuring success. And yet this orientation is often treated as a default mode we should all operate within.

When the Five-Year Plan Feels Constricting Rather Than Motivating

“But everyone has a dream,” we might be told, as if struggling to articulate a five-year vision means we are hiding something from ourselves.

I have never been able to articulate a grand plan in the way this question assumes. I struggle to picture the future concretely, because it unfolds piece by piece. It always has. And I genuinely love watching how things emerge across different areas of life in ways I could not have foreseen.

What drives me is something quieter and steadier. A creative impulse. A desire to make things, to explore what might happen, to respond to what is in front of me, and to integrate what has come before. My life does not move in straight lines. It has grown around and within my values, with seemingly unrelated dots connecting in unexpected ways.

Maybe you relate to this?

https://youtu.be/qFqIvsBB9HA

“If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there.”

This quote, inspired by Alice in Wonderland, reminds me of the five-year question. For some, it sounds like a warning. A demand to define the destination so the “correct” road can be chosen. For others, it feels like permission. A reminder that movement itself shapes direction, and that choosing a road does not require certainty about where it leads.

Two Approaches to Growing Life

There is research that can help us better understand this difference.

In an episode about Late Blooming, Kendra Patterson pointed to a study by David Galenson and Bruce Weinberg, who observed patterns in the careers of Nobel Prize winners in economics. They identified two broad orientations to creative innovation.

Some people are conceptual innovators. They work deductively. They begin with a clear idea and organise themselves towards it. In the study, these individuals often made their most significant contributions early in life, sometimes in their twenties.

Others are experimental innovators. They work inductively. Their contribution emerges step by step through trial, discovery, accumulation, and integration. Their most meaningful work often did not appear until their fifties. Sometimes later.

That is a thirty-year difference.

Experimental Thinkers and Emergent Direction

Experimental lives unfold differently. They need time, space, and patience. Decisions cannot be judged too early, and meaning emerges through lived experience rather than advance planning. These lives are not oriented towards a clearly imagined endpoint, but towards allowing something to take shape over time.

Our dominant culture tends to favour the conceptual orientation for obvious reasons. Goals are easier to measure than processes, and outcomes are more reassuring than slow inquiry.

So when more experimental people are asked to account for themselves in conceptual language, we can experience a disconnect. The five-year plan. Starting with the end in mind. Being asked to justify movement only if the destination can be named in advance.

We might learn to force an answer anyway, for fear of sounding vague and sketchy. Perhaps we adapt our path to fit the question, sometimes tethering ourselves to targets that outlive their purpose.

If You Can’t Articulate The Plan, You May Be Asking Different Questions

Experimental people tend to better orient around different questions.

Not “where do I want to get to?” but “does this path feel worth exploring?”
Not “how will I know I have succeeded?” but “what tells me I’m on the right path for now?”

This does not mean anything goes.

Our values provide an inner compass. A filter through which decisions pass.

Experimental consistency grows in relationship with deeper principles, even when they are not fully formed or easy to articulate. We sense them in how something feels. Whether it feels solid, expansive, and quietly right, even in the face of uncertainty.

That is very different from hit-and-hope searching.

An Unfinished Map

The problem begins when we are pressured to live by a map that does not match the territory of our own experience.

The Return To Serenity Island grew directly out of this recognition.

It was never designed to answer the question of direction. It emerged from understanding the difference between conceptual and experimental ways of moving through life, and from a desire to honour growth and change without forcing myself into a shape that did not fit.

The image of mapping an island felt natural. A way of imagining life not as something to optimise along a straight line, but as a living territory. An unfinished map with seasons, weather, history, and forgotten paths. A place where things fall away to make room for what comes next. Where time moves differently across the landscape, and where connections form quietly, often long before they make sense.

It has become a counterpoint to directive, outcome-driven models of goal setting. A place to reconnect with intuition, judgement, and possibility. To meet creativity not as a tool for achievement, but as a way of relating to life as something we are growing into, rather than something we are meant to complete.

The optional live sessions run in clusters throughout the year. You can find more information at serenityisland.me.

If you have any questions, feel free to drop me a message. I would love to hear from you if this sounds like something you would find helpful.

https://serenityisland.me/

I know I’m not the only one disturbed by the scenes of Donald Trump and J.D. Vance publicly dressing down Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky in the White House.

I was saddened and sickened by the bullying behaviour of those entrusted to know and be a whole lot better than that. The lack of empathy, the attempts to humiliate and intimidate, and the smirking childish arrogance was embarrassing to witness. Especially from individuals holding the highest positions of political leadership and responsibility.

It presents us with a question. Do we accept it? Does it reflect the world we want to create together?

https://youtu.be/lKk-Fp_nqaE The Ripple Effect of Bullying

This kind of bullying affects not only its direct targets but also those who witness it. Many people felt the sting of observing that incident for various reasons. So, how ought we respond when we see and hear things like this, which might have particular personal resonance for those who have been on the receiving end of power abuses themselves?

Growing up, I was taught that bullies tend to operate from a place of insecurity. They mask their inferiority with a facade of superiority. The hypocrisy in the accusations about disrespect struck me. It’s a classic charge from someone who feels insecure.

They questioned Zelensky’s clothes—a choice he has openly described as a show of solidarity with fellow Ukrainians during wartime. In doing so, they displayed ignorance, wilful or otherwise, of the traumatic reality his country had thrust upon it from an invading force.

Bullies don’t respect the humanity of others. They smirk, berate, and belittle rather than empathise, understand, and connect.

Encountering Bullying

Many of us have encountered or witnessed bullying in different areas of life—a boss who publicly humiliates or undermines an employee, someone who sabotages others by withholding critical information or setting them up for failure, or a family member who uses emotional blackmail or guilt to coerce and manipulate.

The dynamics are strikingly similar. A pathological need to dominate, a pattern of intentionally misrepresenting someone’s words, obsessively pulling apart everything someone does, and active enjoyment from causing a person harm or distress.

Arrogance or Confidence

A bully arrogantly attempts to humiliate and intimidate. This is not a show of strength but a reflection of deep-seated insecurity and weakness.

This reflects a distinction we might make between arrogance and confidence. Arrogance, as I see it, is insecurity dressed up as superiority. It’s the need to dominate, to belittle, and to control. Confidence, on the other hand, is secure in who it is and the path it’s on. It doesn’t need to tear others down to feel strong.

Responding To The Quiet Rage

This incident stirred a quiet rage within me. Something was disturbing about watching a leader like Zelensky, who had shown immense courage and grace in the face of Russia’s invasion, be treated with such disdain and disrespect.

So, what do we do when we witness events like this? It’s easy to get caught up in the emotion and stay there. But it’s more important to pause, process, and channel those feelings into constructive actions.

• Acknowledge Your Emotions: Feeling angry, sad, or disappointed is okay. Express the energy of those feelings in non-destructive ways—scream across the sea if you need to, take it out on a drum kit, exercise your body, or throw something.
• Connect with Others: Seek out people who share your values and can offer emotional support. Temporary venting and ranting with people you trust can provide healing catharsis, as long as everyone is comfortable with it!
• Turn Pain into Active Hope: I spoke with Cindy Gale, who shared a framework for processing thoughts and feelings in a changing world. The four stages—gratitude, Honouring Our Pain, Seeing with New Eyes, and Going Forth—can guide us toward constructive action.

The World We Create

This incident is not just about politics; it’s about human behaviour and the world we create through what we tolerate, amplify, and emulate. What kind of example do we want to set, promote, and adhere to?

Strong and healthy leadership protects the weakest, respects differences, and fosters a spirit of collaboration. It listens and learns, communicates with clarity and honesty, and is guided by foundational collective principles that transcend ego, pride, and selfish ambition. We should demand these qualities from our leaders in every walk of life as we strive to embody them for ourselves.

A Call for Maturity

As I reflected on this situation earlier, an email from Sage Justice with the subject Maturity landed in my inbox. She shared an excerpt from a poem in her Freedom Book One. The poem beautifully captures the foundations from which this situation has arisen.

https://the-haven.co/zine

We just finished reading Wintering by Katherine May in the book club, and it has prompted me to reflect on the parallels between the book’s themes and the foundational values underlying ​The Return to Serenity Island​.

https://youtu.be/NoGFVIuAPJk

Katherine May describes Wintering as “a season in the cold. It is a fallow period in life when you’re cut off from the world, feeling rejected, sidelined, blocked from progress, or cast into the role of an outsider.”

We’ve all experienced these times in life, but wintering is a quiet act of defiance in a world that never stops.

It is an example of gentle rebellion in the face of the perpetual demand to be productive and useful. It’s choosing rest over empty hustle, care over competition, and creativity over endless productivity.

May suggests that we often treat these winters as something to hide or ignore. However, embracing them is “a radical act—choosing to slow down, letting spare time expand, and getting enough rest. If you shed this skin, you’ll expose all those painful nerve endings and feel raw. But if you don’t, the old skin will harden around you.”

This resonates deeply with what we do in ​The Return to Serenity Island.​

What Is Serenity Island?

Serenity Island is a slow and immersive experience, and perfect for those navigating, preparing for, or healing from a season of wintering. Whether you’re in the aftermath of a crisis, have identified a gradual drift in a part of your life, or you simply feel the burden of life’s demands on your shoulders, the course offers a space to pause, reflect, and reconnect with the things that matter.

You are invited to…

Rest and listen: Discover tools to help you embrace stillness and notice the unexpected wisdom waiting in the spaces between.

Illuminate the path: as the snow falls, it brightens the world engulfed in the darkness of short winter days. Serenity Island helps you find your footing more clearly and softens the harsh edges of life.

Rediscover your voice: As May reminds us, despite beliefs entrenched by popular culture, to view singing as something for the talented is to misunderstand it as a natural and necessary part of human expression. On Serenity Island, you will reclaim your sound and find the courage to explore your voice, regardless of what anyone else thinks of it.

Move with the seasons: Life isn’t linear, and neither is healing. With maps and imagination, Serenity Island helps you embrace a cyclical and three-dimensional understanding of growth.

What You’ll Find on Serenity Island

Wintering is not just about survival—it’s about transformation and enduring growth. May writes, “Every time we winter, we develop a new knowledge about how to go back into the world.”

On Serenity Island, you will:

• Gain clarity on what matters most and how YOU want to approach this next season of life. Identify and gently release the things you no longer want to spend your finite resources (resilience, energy, time) on.
• Anchor in the present by embracing and enjoying life’s imperfect and bittersweet endings, letting go of perfect hero’s journeys and wishful thinking.
• Slow down, rest, and be yourself alongside others in the folded-page moments of our picnic sessions, where there is no pressure to perform or deliver.
• Build your toolkit for life by using the course templates and ideas. Develop your own practices, rituals, and metaphors to carry you through future seasons.

Ready to Join Me on Serenity Island?

Maybe you’re in a Wintering season like this and would like some company as you navigate it. Or perhaps you want to be more prepared to embrace your next winter when it arrives. If so, I invite you to join The Return to Serenity Island. This course is designed to meet you where you are, offering a space to explore, reconnect, and grow from the inside-out.

Sign up for The Return To Serenity Island

“I would encourage everyone to engage with this fantastic experience. The course is a first-class prescription for wellbeing” – T.W.

https://serenityisland.me/

In our February Book Club, we met to discuss ‘Wintering: The power of rest and retreat in difficult times‘ by Katherine May. Here are my notes on the book.

Book Notes

Katherine May describes “Wintering” as “a season in the cold. It is a fallow period in life when you’re cut off from the world, feeling rejected, sidelined, blocked from progress, or cast into the role of an outsider.” Through a sudden crisis, the loss of something or someone, or a gradual drift, Wintering is about allowing rest and retreat to come. Rather than fighting it, pretending it isn’t happening, or wishing it away, Wintering is an acknowledgement that we can actively partner with the season and find healing, not despite it, but within it. “After all, you apply ice to a joint after an awkward fall. Why not do the same to a life?”

September – Indian Summer

• We treat each winter as an embarrassing anomaly that should be hidden or ignored
• We may never choose to winter, but we can choose how
• Wintering is a moment when you need to shed a skin. This is a radical act – choosing to slow down, letting spare time expand, and getting enough rest. If you shed this skin, you’ll expose all those painful nerve endings and feel raw. But if you don’t, the old skin will harden around you.
• What are some of the default ways we resist and fight this process?

October Making Ready

• The problem with doing everything is it ends up feeling like nothing. It’s a haze of frantic activity, with all the meaning sheared away.
• Katherine talks about “cooking Autumn into the house” after being signed off from work with severe abdominal pain. The preparation of food provides anchors in space and time
• Preparing for Winter before it is with us – In Finland, the winter arrives suddenly, and you don’t mess with it (having the wardrobe stowed away for when it comes)
• Daily routines keep us on an even keel
• All this time is an unfathomable luxury, and I’m struck by the uncomfortable feeling that I’m enjoying it a little too much
• Can I justify a walk when everyone else is doubling up to cover my job? The things that make us well are sources of guilt and shame (rest and healing are perceived as luxuries)

Hot Water

• Katherine decided to cancel her big 40th birthday trip to Iceland – she didn’t think she was physically strong or steady enough. But the biggest fear was judgement – are you even allowed to go on holiday when you’re signed off from work? What would people think if they found out? But the doctor gave a YOLO permission slip and told her to go
• In moments of helplessness, I always seem to travel north. I find I can think straight, the air feels clean and uncluttered
• “In sauna” – Hanne is not talking about a building, she’s talking about a state of being. For Finns, sauna is more than having a sauna, it’s a cornerstone around which life is built – birth, death, deep conversations, and a ritual cleansing of body, mind, and soul

Ghost Stories

• Halloween represents an invitation on the calendar, to acknowledge the present absences and absent presence of those we have lost
• It is also where we can occupy the liminal space between worlds, thoughts and feelings – where fear and delight become inseparable, life and death, inside and outside

November Metamorphosis

• Amid the transformation of winter – the unwelcome change – is an abundance of life
• We meet Shelly, who tells her story of recovering from life-threatening bacterial meningitis – it’s not a heroic tale of triumph over illness, there is no path or methodology, she just waited it out and carried on with life…she didn’t witness it, she didn’t have to look at her daughter in a coma (it was not her wintering – that came later when she was in a state of sofa surfing limbo after her parents moved to America and her relationship broke down) – she began a new creative project that on reflection represented a process of her own healing and regrowth
• The needle breaks the fabric in order to repair it – you can’t have one without the other

Slumber

• Winter is a season that invites me to rest well and feel restored, when I am allowed to retreat and be quietly separate
• Waking up in the middle of the night, the precariousness of my life bites me hard. Its teeth in my gut. I am nothing. I am no one. I have failed.
• We should sometimes be grateful for the solitudes of night, of a winter. They save us from displaying our worst selves to the waking world
• Roger Erkich argues that, before the industrial revolution, it was normal to divide the night into two periods of sleep: first (dead) sleep and second sleep with the “watch” in between, a borderland space between wake and sleep, with dreamlike conversations and slow meandering connection
• Sleep is not a dead space, but a doorway to a different kind of consciousness – one that is reflective and restorative, full of tangential thought and unexpected insights
• My midnight terrors vanish when I turn insomnia into a watch: a claimed, sacred space in which I have nothing to do but contemplate

December Light

• Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is most prevalent in countries like the UK, where the changing seasons bring about marked differences in light exposure across the year
• Saint Lucy didn’t cure me. I didn’t dance back up the aisle, having miraculously found my way. But she brought a little light. Just enough to see by.

Midwinter

• The winter solstace at Stonehenge brings an almost bewildering mix of cultures…we’re interlopers here but I’m not sure what interloper means in this context…the crowd is too diverse for us to stand out
• “We have turned the year”
• I find that I’m drawn to moments like this: an uplift in the monotonous progress of the year, and a way to mark the movement to the next phase
• Druids follow the eight-fold Wheel of the Year, which is a useful period of time…we have something to do every six weeks. It creates a pattern through the year. In mainstream culture we have Christmas and maybe a summer holiday, which leaves far too long between festivals
• This expresses a craving many of us will recognise – rituals that anchor us in time
• The loose communities that we find in spiritual or relivious gatherings were once entirely ordinary to us, but now it seems like it is more radical to join them. Congregations are elastic, stretching to take in all kinds of people, and bringing up unexpected perspectives and insights. We need them now more than ever.
• If we resist the instinct to endure those darkest moments alone, we might even make the opportunity to share the burden, and to let a little light in

Epiphany

• Some winters are gradual. Some winters creep up on us so slowly that they have infiltrated every part of our lives before we truly feel them.
• Happiness is our potential, the product of a mind that’s allowed to think as it needs to, that has enough of what it requires, that is free of the terrible weight of bullying and humiliation. As children we tolerate working conditions that we’d find intolerable as adults: the constant interrogation of our attainment to a hostile audience, the motivation by threat instead of encouragement (and big threats too: if you don’t do this, you’ll ruin your whole future life)
• You’ll find wisdom in your winter, and once it’s over, it’s your responsibility to pass it on. And in return, it’s our responsibility to listen to those who have wintered before us. It’s an exchange of gifts in which nobody loses out.
• I make a new ritual for the Christmas period this year, in those twelve days that I always struggle to fill meaningfully. It starts at the solstice and ends on New Year’s Day

January Darkness

• There is nothing showy about the northern lights, nothing obvious or demanding. They hide from you at first, and then they whisper to you.
• The Sámi are a people whose territory extends across the north of the peninsula where Norway, Sweden, Finland, and Russia now join, although they have continuously inhabited it for close to ten millennia
• I simply had no defence against the changes that were happening in my life. I was missing my antlers. I had skittered over to a different country to convince myself that I could carry on just as normal, but instead I only saw my own desperation, mirrored in the ice. But it was there, too, that I came to a kind of acceptance: of my own limitations, and of the future that lay before me.
• I have learned to walk at these moments. I have learned to walk until the heat goes out of it.

Hunger

• Wherever we want to denote the hunger of the cold season, we turn to wolves. They are the enemy we love to hate, offering us a glimpse of feral intelligence. In the wolf we are offered a mirror of ourselves as we might be, without the comforts and constraints of civilisation.
• Life never does quite offer us those simple happy endings. Marianne’s story has a bittersweet ending. She put her head down and gradually chipped away at her debt, and was able to pay it off after three years, following an unexpected windfall. But the years of worry have taken their toll on her mental health, and now, after several missteps and a redundancy, she has accepted a pay cut to get a simpler job, which is as much as she can cope with…Marianne may not be able to see immediate relief in her future, but to me, she has achieved something extraordinary, which is to be able to talk about her wolfish leanings without feeling shame. And nor should she.
• Perhaps the wolf is such an enduring motif of hunger because we see in them a reflection of our own selves in lean times. In winter, those hungers become especially fierce.

February Snow

• A snow day is a wild day, a spontaneous holiday when all the tables are turned
• The white witch in Narnia carries a suggestion of Christmas: the sweets and food, the promise of gifts, but also the way that it forces children to dance with their own greed for a season, encouraged to desire worldly goods, but also scolded for wanting them too much, and with too much alacrity
• She is the adult half of Christmas, perceived through a child’s eyes, that slightly bitter edge which they can’t help but notice as the grown-ups lecture them on the need to modify their demands
• In children’s literature, snowfall is the trigger for tables to turn. It creates a moment in which the usual adult protectors are easily incapacitated, and introduces a world in which children are agile and wild enough to survive.
• The snow was doing nothing now, except making our lives more difficult. “I want the snow to end”, said Bert. “Yes”, I said. “A couple of days was plenty.”
• Päivi says of life back in Hamina (Finland), “When the snow comes, it’s actually a bit of a relief at first. With the short days, everything is so dark. And then snow falls, and it’s like someone’s turned on the lights.”
• My tendency to think of snow as a bit of light relief is a privilage. To those who live with it, snow is plain hard work

Cold Water

• Gazing back at the water, I had the urge to do it all over again, to go back and exist in those few, crystalline secons in the intense cold
• For Dorte, who received a diagnosis of bipolar, it was the first time someone had ever said to her: you need to live a life that you can cope with, not the one that other people want. Just do one thing a day. No more than two social events in a week. Her doctor said, “This isn’t about you getting fixed…it’s about you living the best life you can with the parameters that you have”. She was free from the decade-long wait for the medication to mend her. The pivotal change came when she stopped believing it could.
• When I’m in the water, I’m just laughing and laughing. All my automatic thoughts switch off, and I’m just in the water.
• We are completely enchanted by our own bravery, by the way that we’ve stepped out of the everyday world and into this alternative space. The cold sea, hovering between 5 and 6 degrees Celcius.
• I, who generally prefer to do everything alone if I can possibly help it, came to see how this was only made possible by a contract between us. The fear of stepping into the water – of even getting to the beach in the first place – never subsided, but having a partner in crime made it harder to avoid.

March

This part opens with a reflection on Aesop’s fable of the Ant and the Grasshopper – During the summer, the ants diligently gather and store food for the winter, while the grasshopper spends his time singing and playing, believing there’s no need to worry about the future. When winter arrives, the grasshopper, starving and cold, begs the ants for food. The ants, having prepared for the harsh season, rebuke him for his laziness and refuse to share, teaching a lesson about the importance of hard work, planning, and responsibility.

Survival

• The truth is, we all have ant years and grasshopper years; years when we are able to prepare and save, and years where we need a little extra help.
• Our true flaw lies not in failing to store up enough resources to cope with the grasshopper years, but in believing that each grasshopper year is an anomaly, visited only on us, due to our unique human failings
• When you think about bees, don’t treat them as individuals. A colony of bees is a single superorganism. They act as one.
• In a mere slip of the pen, I could fall into the tired old trope: the bees are models of industry. Be more like the bees.
• Mussolini was fond of evoking the beehive to describe the ideal functioning of Fascism
• Let us not aspire to be like ants and bees. Humans are not eusocial; we are not nameless units in a superorganism, mere cells that are expendable when we aave reached the end of our useful lives.
• We are not consistently useful to the world at large. Some of us make highly visible, elaborate contributions to the whole; some of us are part of the ticking mechanics of the world, the incremental wealth of small gestures
• Usefulness, in itself, is a useless concept when it comes to humans. I don’t think we were ever meant to think about others in terms of their use to us. We channel our adoration towards the most helpless citizens of all – babies and children – for reasons that have nothing to do with their future utility. We flourish on caring, on doling out love. It’s how we thrive. Our winters are social glue.

Song

• The works of winter are more intricate than the simple storing up of supplies, which are then run down until the summer replenishes them.
• Winter is a time for the quiet arts of making
• A robin sings in winter because it can, and it wants the world – or at least the female robins – to know it. But he is also practicing for happier times.
• My voice had waned alongside my confidence, and asserting it again was like asserting my rightful part in the adult world. I was gabbling out my words because I felt I had to get them in before I was interrupted
• Women’s voices are always contested in a way that men’s never are. If we speak too softly, we are treated as gentle mice, if we raise our voices to be heard, we are shrill
• Within four lessons, I had remapped my voice, bringing it lower and louder and softer and slower.
• In twenty-first-century Britain, we’ve linked singing with talent, and we’ve got that fundamentally wrong. The right to sing is an absolute, regardless of how it sounds to the outside world. We sing because we must.

Epilogue

• Change will not stop happening. The only part we can control is our response
• The subtext of the endless Facebook memes with unsolicited advice on how to cope with a crisis (hang on in there! you got this! you are stronger than you know!) is clear: misery is not an option. While we may no longer see depression as a failure, we expect you to spin it into something meaningful pretty quick…This is the opposite of caring.
• I am beginning to think that unhappiness is one of the simple things in life: a pure, basic emotion to be respected, if not savoured. If we don’t allow ourselves the fundamental honesty of our own sadness, then we miss an important cue to adapt.
• At its base, this is not a book about beauty, but about reality. It is about noticing what’s going on, and living it. That’s what the natural world does: it carries on surviving. Not just once in the hope it will one day get things right once and for all. It winters in cycles, again and again, forever and ever.
• To get better at wintering, we need to address our very notion of time. To imagine our lives as cylical rather than linear.
• Every time we winter, we develop a new knowledge about how to go back into the world. You know, we learn about our tastes and preferences. We learn about what makes us happy.

What Did You Think of Wintering?

Drop your thoughts below and I will use it for our community review. Join the conversation in our forum and watch the replay of our Zoom discussion.

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Have you ever been told to come out of your shell? It’s a phrase many of us have heard, especially if we’re introverted, sensitive, or reflective by nature. But what if this idea misunderstands the role of a shell? What if, instead of seeing it as a limitation, we saw it as a space of protection, growth, and creativity?

In this week’s episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, we will explore the idea of shells—not as barriers to break free from but as integral parts of who we are. Whether you’re an introvert, a highly sensitive person, or someone in a season of healing, your shell might just be one of your greatest strengths.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lYb2V3ngrh0& Misunderstanding The Shell’s Purpose

Growing up, I heard the phrase “come out of your shell” a lot. Teachers used it in reports and at parents’ evenings, describing me as shy, reserved, and needing to be more outgoing. It was a story I absorbed about myself: that being quiet or cautious was something to overcome.

But as I’ve grown older, I’ve seen my shell differently. It’s not a cage—it’s a sanctuary and a studio. Where I retreat to process, create, and recharge. It’s where I feel connected to myself and what matters most. And I’m not alone. For many of us, our shells are vital tools for navigating the world in a way that feels true to who we are.

The issue with the phrase “come out of your shell” is that it assumes being quiet, sensitive, or introverted is a problem that needs fixing. It subtly implies that we must conform to the extrovert ideal—seeing loud, visible, and gregarious as the barometer of normality, against which behaviour is judged.

But what if your shell isn’t hindering you? What if it’s enabling you to thrive? Or at least it has the potential to if you see it as a source of strength rather than a flaw.

Shells in Nature: A Metaphor for Growth

Nature offers us countless examples of shells, each with different roles and characteristics. Let’s explore a few and see how they might reflect our own experiences:

The Egg

Eggshells are temporary. They protect us during vulnerable stages of growth or transformation, like a baby bird developing the strength to face the world. An eggshell might represent a period of healing, learning, or self-discovery for us. It’s a space where we process experiences, feel safe, and prepare. Eggshells aren’t meant to last forever, but hatching can’t be rushed or forced. When we’re ready, they crack naturally, and we emerge.

The Turtle

Unlike an eggshell, a turtle’s shell is permanent. It’s not just a home—it’s part of the turtle’s identity. And it’s a tool to help them dig. Turtles don’t leave their shells; they carry them wherever they go. For introverts or highly sensitive people, this might resonate deeply. Your shell isn’t something to come out of—it’s a sanctuary and a tool that allows you to navigate life on your terms.

The Hermit Crab

Hermit crabs don’t grow their own shells—they find new ones as they grow. This symbolises adaptation and evolution. For us, it might represent a process of ongoing self-discovery. We might let go of old beliefs, communities, or creative expressions and try on new ones that fit who we’re becoming.

The Snail

Snails carry spiral shells that grow with them over time. Each new layer represents a stage of growth. This might resonate with artists, writers, or anyone who sees their life as a slow, steady journey of self-expansion. The shell isn’t a barrier—it’s a space of creativity and transformation and their body of work.

The Oyster

Oysters transform irritants—like grains of sand—into pearls. Their shells are hard and protective but also create beauty from adversity. This might symbolise turning pain or challenges into art, wisdom, or connection.

The Clam

Clams have two-part shells that open and close in response to their environment. This represents the balance between connection and solitude. Like clams, we can choose when to open up and when to retreat, depending on our needs.

The Nautilus

The nautilus has a spiraling shell with chambers that it seals off as it grows. Each chamber represents a chapter of its life. For us, this might symbolise how our past experiences contribute to who we are today. Breaking out of this shell would mean losing touch with everything that has shaped us.

The Shell Is a Source of Strength

The truth is, we don’t need people to “come out of their shell”. For many of us, our shells are essential. They’re where we prepare, play, create, and connect. They’re spaces of protection, creativity, and transformation.

So, let’s stop seeing shells as limitations. Instead, let’s celebrate them as the incredible tools they are. After all, some of the most beautiful things grow inside shells—pearls, art, wisdom, and even ourselves.

Let’s Explore Your Shell Together

If this feels alive for you and you’d like a sounding board to bounce ideas off, I’d love to invite you to book a Pick The Lock call with me. Together, we can explore the characteristics of your particular shell—how it protects you, what it enables for you, and how you can work with it to make life feel more aligned with your natural needs and preferences.

Maybe you’ve never thought about things this way before, and you’d like to see if this metaphor resonates as you reframe your story. Sessions are choose-your-own-price because I believe coaching should be accessible to everyone. Find a time that works for you.

https://the-haven.co/pick-the-lock/

We’ve all heard the phrase, “the end justifies the means.” But in this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast , I want to turn it inside out and explore this idea from another angle. What if, for some people, focusing solely on the outcome as the ultimate goal can lead to a dissatisfying and alienating approach to life?

This question struck me as I emerged from a week-long rabbit hole. In the previous episode, I talked about unexpectedly diving into research about a self-help influencer and the questionable details surrounding their latest book. At first glance, it might have seemed like a distraction—a detour from what I “should” have been doing.

When I sense myself going off the deep end, it’s almost like slow motion. I can feel it happening but there’s not much I can do to stop it. Once something stirs inside me at a deep level. So, despite my logical brain yelling, “Andy, no! You don’t have time for this. Stop. Close that webpage. Put your phone away!” I find myself slipping into the rabbit hole anyway. “OK”, rational brain continues. “See you in a week or so? Remember to eat! Bye.”

The Path is The Inspiration

This has happened many times over the years. There’s often a nagging voice of judgment, telling me it’s a waste of time, that I’m being pulled in a million directions. But recently, I’ve noticed a shift. Over the past two or three years, I’ve started to see these moments differently. Instead of dismissing them as irrelevant distractions, I’ve begun to ask new questions that help me stay focused. It’s partly about mindset and my relationship with the subject, but it’s also about the spirit I bring into the rabbit hole. And that’s where the idea of “the means justify the end” emerges.

For me, it’s about trusting the process. I don’t always know where I’ll end up, but I know it will be okay because of how I choose to travel there.

Experimental vs. Conceptual Approaches

This reminds me of economist David Galenson’s research on creativity, which I first encountered through my friend Kendra Patterson. She highlighted the distinction between experimental and conceptual innovators in a podcast about late bloomers.

As William Landay writes in his article Experimental Writers vs. Conceptual Writers :
“Experimental innovators are seekers. They’re characterized by persistent uncertainty about their methods and goals. They’re often dissatisfied with their current work but have only vague ideas about how to improve it. This dissatisfaction drives them to experiment, moving tentatively toward imperfectly perceived objectives. No matter how much progress they make, they rarely consider their work a complete success.

In contrast, conceptual innovators are finders. They’re marked by certainty about their methods, goals, or both. This clarity allows them to work methodically toward their objectives, often feeling they’ve fully realized their vision in a particular work.”

For conceptual innovators, the end justifies the means. But for experimental innovators, the means justify the end. It’s more about the journey than the destination. The process itself brings the “end” into focus, even if it doesn’t feel complete. It’s a waypoint on a road to nowhere, anywhere, and everywhere.

Are You an Experimental Type?

When I first heard about this distinction at the end of 2020, it sparked something in me. I recognised myself in the descriptions of experimental creativity. My projects never turn out as I expect them to, and I feel restricted by SMART goals or rigid outcomes that demand a fixed course of action.

Around the same time, I created The Return to Serenity Island , a project that became a way for me to creatively process this discovery and reshape my relationship with goal setting and personal growth. It was a departure from the “start with the end in mind” paradigm I’d been taught in coaching courses—an approach that assumes you’ll drift, waste time, and fail unless you know exactly where you’re going and take consistent action to get there.

It was liberating to realise that while this approach works for many, it’s not universal. Some of us grow and succeed inductively, connecting dots as we go. We end up in places we could never have conceptualised at the start. I’ve often reached the end of a project and thought, “I would never have dreamed I’d end up here.” And if I’d stuck with my original idea, I would have missed so much of the potential that emerged along the way.

Late Blooming

Kendra wrote, “Part of the struggle for experimental creatives is that our culture is skewed toward a preference for the conceptual style. We don’t like working without a plan or appreciating products that emerge slowly and unpredictably. Experimental creatives thrive in uncertainty and ambiguity—conditions that scare the crap out of us collectively as a culture. In such an unwelcoming environment, it’s not uncommon for experimental creatives to struggle for years, if not decades, to develop their voice and feel confident in their process. If this is you, keep going! Your best work lies ahead.”

This experimental approach also feels fundamentally different from the hero’s journey narratives we’re often fed, which are rooted in a quest for a specific purpose or destiny. In the conceptual sense, purpose is a pre-existing puzzle we try to assemble. In the experimental sense, purpose is the glue we use to build a mosaic, piece by piece.

As Galenson notes, “Experimental innovators’ achievements usually depend on gradual improvements in their understanding and mastery. Their major contributions often emerge late in their careers. Conceptual innovations, on the other hand, depend on new ideas and typically occur early in a creator’s life.”

Maps, Islands, and an Experimental Playground

The Return to Serenity Island is the course I created to re-imagine goals through an experimental lens. It’s an alternative to traditional, conceptual goal-setting models. The project itself felt like an example of my experimental self taking the reins. It evolved into a narrative-driven experience with soundscapes, inviting participants to reconnect with their childlike spirit and navigate the adult fog to find their creative core.

I’m currently launching our Spring Voyage back to Serenity Island. It’s designed to help you find calm, clarity, and inspiration—to make things work for who and how you are, not who you’ve been told you ought to be.

https://serenityisland.me/

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, I share a video essay about influencer culture, asking where self-help guru Mel Robbins really discovered the idea for her latest book, The Let Them Theory.

Note, as this situation has evolved, I have added more videos to document it. They are available here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQ_xip3l1io& https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryQBcUuN8pk&

I fell into this rabbit hole after seeing a post on Threads about an article by Sage Justice. This questioned whether Mel Robbins had appropriated the “Let Them Theory” from a movement started by a poet named Cassie Phillips.

It caught my attention because several friends and clients had mentioned the book recently. So, on a quest for the truth, I dug beneath the surface to see whether the claims had any weight. It didn’t take long for me to unearth some concerning holes at the heart of Mel’ s Let Them Theory origin story.

Where THIS “Let Them” Moment Arose

Towards the end of 2022, a poem by Cassie Phillips ignited a viral movement among individuals sharing it, discussing their experiences, and posting photographs of their tattoos. On 19th May 2023, Mel Robbins released a video sharing she had just heard about the Let Them Theory. The popularity of this short video revealed a market for the idea. And by the end of 2024, she release her book called The Let Them Theory through Hay House.

No Mention of The Let Them Movement

Robbins refuses to acknowledge Cassie, the poem, or the ongoing movement within the book. When asked by The Guardian about this omission, she doubled down, implying it is ancient wisdom. She has also been using media appearances to reinforce the story that individuals began getting tattoos after reading her book. But, as I demonstrate see in my video, social media was full of Let Them tattoos long before Mel Robbins “discovered” the Let Them Theory.

The two articles by Sage Justice: Mel Robbins and Plagiarism and Can Mel Robbins Trademark Your Words? provide an in-depth look at the origins of the “Let Them” idea. They include an interview with Cassie Phillips and social media evidence showing that the movement was already gaining traction in 2022—long before Robbins entered the picture.

A Questionable Origin Story

What’s particularly troubling is the narrative Robbins has constructed around the theory. She retroactively claims to have discovered it at her son’s prom in May 2023, but her original video about the theory was posted the day before the prom. This inconsistency and the lack of credit given to Phillips raise red flags about the authenticity of Robbins’ story. This story has been conceived, practiced, and performed at almost every appearance she has made on prominent platforms with highly influential figures.

As I fell deeper into this rabbit hole, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of quiet outrage. It’s one thing to be inspired by someone else’s work and join forces with a movement. But it’s another to appropriate and profit from it, knowing the size of your following and the powerful influence of your contacts will overpower the place of founder.

I know people who have found value in Robbins’ posts over the years. I don’t want to diminish those experiences. However, it feels important to bring awareness so we can all make informed decisions about engaging with this book and its supporting materials.

I am genuinely concerned about the broader implications of this story. It sets a dangerous precedent when influential platforms and figures like The Today Show, Oprah, Simon Sinek, and Kelly Clarkson don’t questions about the validity of certain claims.

Why Did Mel Robbins Not Mention The Let Them Movement?

So, why has Mel Robbins altered this timeline? Why has she chosen to erase the fertile ground that led to the movement from which she is now profiting? Unfortunately, the answer may lie in the question itself. The allure of money and influence and the hope for a free ride when it comes to accountability and push-back. Which is why as readers (and those who influencers aim to influence), we must take perfectly performed hero’s journey narratives with a pinch of salt and ask questions to help our favourite creators remain honest and humble.

This story is not just about Mel Robbins or Cassie Phillips—it’s about the importance of integrity, credit, and fairness in the world of ideas. I encourage you to watch the video if possible to examine the evidence more closely. I’d love to hear what you make of it!

Check out the video description for a full list of resources and references.

The randomiser wheel picked “Power in persistence”. I’m currently using a tool to select phrases for my daily journal practice. They are all associated with the theme of Strength.

Persistence has power—it can contribute to a better world, but it can also do the opposite, extracting and coercing people without consent.

I receive countless unsolicited emails from people pitching podcast appearances, guest posts, and products/services. Many seem to believe persistence is about repeating a request until the subject gives in. If I don’t respond, follow-ups come: “Just bumping this to the top of your inbox,” “A quick nudge,” or “I know you’re busy, so here’s a reminder.” These messages are the noise driven by automated systems and broad statistics about human behaviour.

A Strange Request

The mentality behind this concerns me—not just the impersonal nature but the transactional approach. Someone wants something from me and assumes persistence will wear me down. That’s not consent; it’s coercion.

One email stood out. A guest pitch came with flattery about my podcast. Despite knowing it was a mass email, I liked their premise, so I replied, explaining I only consider unsolicited guests after following them for a while to ensure it’s a good fit. Their response? A curt request for details about my listener numbers and marketing plans so they could decide if appearing on my podcast was worth their time. It was baffling. The inconsistency in their charade was almost refreshing—they said the quiet part out loud. They had no idea who I was.

When Persistence Undermines Consent

This kind of persistence—indiscriminate, impersonal, and extractive—is a problem. It interprets silence or rejection as a challenge to overcome, undermining our understanding of consent. Persistence works in marketing at scale; exposure breeds familiarity. But at a personal level, it’s a slippery slope.

Yet persistence is also vital to healthy relationships. In friendships, it’s about consistently showing up, remembering, and caring—contributing rather than extracting. Genuine persistence flips the dynamic. For example, if someone persistently offers help, asks how they can contribute and follows up with care, it feels collaborative rather than transactional.

Persistent Trust and Respect

This kind of persistence builds trust and respect. It creates connections where requests have meaning because they stem from a foundation of mutual understanding. Done sincerely—not as a tactic—it can lead to incredible outcomes, strengthening relationships and fostering collaboration.

Persistence has power, for better or worse. What matters is how we apply it: to extract or contribute, to coerce or collaborate.

If this reflection resonates, let me know—leave a comment or send me a message. And if you want to explore prompts like this yourself, check out the randomiser in The Haven and see where it takes you.

https://youtu.be/ddwe8YMoWOg

Many people feel overwhelmed, uncertain, or powerless in a world grappling with climate crises, political instability, and societal upheaval. But what if there was a way to process these emotions and transform them into meaningful action? This is the premise of “The Work That Reconnects” and Active Hope: How to Face the Mess We’re in with Unexpected Resilience and Creative Power, developed by Joanna Macy and Chris Johnson. These tools invite us to explore our emotional responses to the world, shift our perspectives, and find meaningful ways forward.

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, I chat with Cindy Gale, a psychotherapist, transactional analyst, and facilitator of The Work That Reconnects. In our conversation, she shared several practices for staying anchored as we navigate the pressing complexity of our times.

https://youtu.be/DpDYYB8M39A The Three Stories of Our Time

The Work That Reconnects is built on the idea that we have three stories running through society. Cindy describes them in this way:

Business as Usual

We live in the midst of a success story where we can have lamb from New Zealand and strawberries in January, where we can fly all over the world and plan for our future. It’s a story that views economic and technological developments as having made life easier, and where looking for how to ‘move things forward’ is a given.

The Great Unraveling

This story says it’s too late already. The die is cast. It’s all overwhelming: depleted natural resources, climate change and superstorms, the rich getting richer and everyone else getting poorer; where, globally, there are the multitudes of really poor who are suffering and starving, species are going extinct, war is big business; where it all goes on and on – until it won’t anymore.

The Great Turning

Then there is a third story, The Great Turning, which Joanna Macy calls ‘the essential adventure of our time.’ It is an energising and enlivening story about living in the present, engaging with life fully and to the best of our abilities, and making a difference in the world as it is today (not as we wish it were).

The Problem With Hope

Active hope is not “blind hope” or wishful thinking. It’s about taking action rather than sitting back and saying, “I hope everything works out OK,” or waiting for the “inevitable technological fix we want to believe is coming.

Joanna Macy writes:

• Active Hope is not wishful thinking.
• Active Hope is not waiting to be rescued by the Lone Ranger or some saviour.
• Active Hope is waking up to the beauty of life on whose behalf we can act.
• We belong to this world.
• The web of life is calling us forth at this time.
• We’ve come a long way and are here to play our part.
• With Active Hope, we realise that there are adventures in store,
• strengths to discover and comrades to link arms with.
• Active Hope is a readiness to engage.
• Active Hope is a readiness to discover the strengths in ourselves and in others, a readiness to discover the reasons for hope and the occasions for love.
• A readiness to discover the size and strength of our hearts,
• our quickness of mind, our steadiness of purpose, our own authority, our love for life,
• the liveliness of our curiosity, the unsuspected deep well of patience and diligence, the keenness of our senses, and our capacity to lead.

None of these can be discovered in an armchair or without risk.

Active Hope Spiral Practices

Cindy shares the Active Hope spiral practices, which support the pathway to live with Active Hope.

The spiral has four stages: Gratitude, Honouring Our Pain, Seeing with New Eyes, and Going Forth. It helps us process thoughts and feelings, shift our perspective, and connect with meaningful steps forward.

Part One – Gratitude

The spiral begins with gratitude, a revolutionary act in a world that thrives on scarcity mindsets and consumerism.

Open Sentences on Gratitude

1. What are some things that I love about being alive on Earth?
2. A place that was magical or wonderful to me as a child was…
3. A person who helped me believe in myself is/was…
4. Some things I enjoy doing and making are…
5. Some things I appreciate about myself are…

Part Two – Honouring Our Pain for the World

Grief, anger, and fear often accompany our awareness of the world’s struggles. This stage invites us to lean into these emotions rather than suppress them. Cindy emphasises that acknowledging pain is vital for healing and prevents it from hardening within.

Open Sentences on Honouring Our Pain for the World

1. What concerns me most about our world is…
2. What I find hard about this moment in my life on this planet is…
3. The emotions I carry around with me are…
4. Ways I avoid these feelings are…
5. Some ways I can use these feelings are…

Part Three – Seeing with New Eyes

This stage involves perspective-shifting exercises rather than open sentences. While no specific open sentences were given, the stage focuses on reframing perceptions of power, collaboration, and interconnectedness.

The perspective shift tells us:

Unlimited Economic Growth is a Myth

Nothing in the universe grows endlessly without limits. Infinite economic growth is inherently unsustainable and defies the natural laws of balance and resource availability.

Maximising Profit Leads to Imbalance

When one variable, profit, is consistently prioritised over all others, the system becomes skewed. This imbalance leads to overshoot and eventual collapse because other essential factors (e.g., ecological health and human well-being) are ignored.

Externalising Costs and Blocking Feedback

Corporations often offload ecological and human costs onto third parties, such as taxpayers and the natural world, to maximise profit.
This practice distorts the perception of true costs and blocks the feedback that systems need to self-regulate, making the system unsustainable and ultimately self-destructive.

Top-Down Power Dynamics

The industrial growth society (capitalism) relies on hierarchical and competitive structures where power is understood as “power over” others.
This “win-lose” mindset drives insatiable wants and further perpetuates inequality and exploitation.

Interdependence and Collaboration as Power

By shifting our perspective, we can see power as a partnership, arising from collaboration rather than domination.
This reframing encourages a shift toward cooperative efforts that sustain life for all beings.

The Goal of Economic Activity Should Be Sufficiency for All

A life-sustaining society prioritises sufficiency and balance rather than unchecked profit.

The focus is on meeting the needs of all living beings now and in the future, ensuring that economic activity aligns with the integrity of natural systems.

Feedback is Essential for Accountability

Systems require feedback to assess the true costs of actions and the harm they may cause.

Without feedback mechanisms, harmful behaviours continue unchecked, leading to systemic collapse.

Humans are Both Unique and Inseparable from the Web of Life

Our genuine self-interest includes the well-being of other beings and the planet.

Recognising this interconnectedness shifts our understanding of what it means to thrive as individuals and communities.

Part Four – Going Forth: Turning Insights into Action

The final stage focuses on moving forward with purpose. This is where the insights gained from gratitude, grief, and new perspectives are channelled into meaningful action.
Reflection Questions:

1. If you knew you couldn’t fail, what would you do in service to life on Earth?
2. In pursuing this vision, what particular project do you feel called to undertake?
3. What resources (inner and outer) do you have now that will help you do this?
4. What resources (inner and outer) will you need to acquire to follow your calling?
5. How much do you stop yourself? What obstacles might you throw in your way?
6. How will you move through and around these obstacles?
7. What can you do in the next week to move along this path, no matter how small the step?

Small Things Lead To Big Changes

We all have different roles and will be drawn to particular forms of active hope more than others. This resonates with Dorcas Cheng-Tozen’s writing in her book Social Justice For The Sensitive Soul, which points out that there isn’t one correct form of social justice for everyone. There is a place for everyone when it comes to addressing the issues of our time.

Holding Actions

Holding back the tide of bad things through direct activism and supporting people and places facing present crises.

Building New Structures

What things can we build or fix to make tomorrow better for everyone?

Shift in Consciousness

We must change how we think of ourselves, one another, and the more than human world.

Links

Cindy’s Website

The Work That Reconnects

https://the-haven.co/zine

The randomiser wheel picked “Strength in numbers”. I’m currently using a tool to select phrases for my daily journal practice. They are all associated with the theme of Strength.

Martin Luther King Jr. said, “There is power in unity, and there is power in numbers.” Power is contagious, building strength in numbers—a force for creation and destruction. Numbers can topple buildings and spark change but can also reduce individuals to statistical fodder, data on a spreadsheet, and reinforcement where more numbers are required.

A crowd develops a mind, not as a reflection of individual expression but as a loss of subjectivity. Social influence, de-individuation, emotional contagion, scapegoating, compliance, anonymity, and desensitisation transform people, creating powerful, unpredictable surges and movements. It becomes bigger than any individual’s ability to stop it.

Like a pitch invasion or riot, a surge of emotion can breach the order. This was seen during the 2020 European Cup Final, when 6,000 ticketless fans stormed Wembley Stadium. Interviews with participants revealed psychological factors that led (some of) them to act out of character, behaviour they later barely recognised. Similar dynamics played out during the U.S. Capitol riot on January 6th, 2021, and the UK summer riots of 2024. In these moments, people feel invincible and unstoppable—and literally lose themselves in the numbers.

Safety in Numbers

This doesn’t just happen in chaos; we all drift toward groupthink over time, allowing political or social alignment to shape our opinions. We stop thinking critically and cling to our “tribe” for safety. Extreme shifts and once-fringe ideas find their way to the mainstream. The pull is stronger when we embrace totalising philosophies, grand theories that simplify the world at the expense of nuance. In doing so, we retreat into the safety of numbers, avoiding challenges to our beliefs.

“There is power in unity, and there is power in numbers.” But unity is more than a mindless mass; it’s about shaping abstraction into reality. Mother Teresa said, “None of us, including me, ever do great things. But we can all do small things with great love, and together, we can do something wonderful.”

Strength in Unity

Unity is each playing a small part in something greater, creating a body stronger than its parts.

Contrast this with the chaotic crowd, competing for limited resources in a frenzy of rivalry and animosity. Numbers, when disunited, become formidable. Grabbing, reaching, and striving for something there isn’t enough of for everyone.

Power, contagious as it is, can be a force for better—or worse.

https://youtu.be/WY-jlVKf3p4

A theme that’s dominated 2025 for me (and for many) has been price rises across many subscription-based platforms and services. My correspondence with companies has made clear that loyalty stands for very little. In fact, rather than being rewarded, longevity is increasingly exploited and monetised.

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, I share a year-in-review through the lens of price rises. The tipping point was an email from my podcast hosting company, Libsyn, announcing a 71 percent increase effective from January. It was the straw that broke this camel’s back after a year of similar moves elsewhere. In the episode, I share exchanges with three companies that reveal how loyalty is no longer valued in itself, but engineered to extract profit from those of us who’ve become reliant on these platforms.

https://youtu.be/qrmUSdGwcMs A Symptom of Enshittification

Cory Doctorow describes the underlying trend as “Enshittification”, a form of platform decay visible in companies like Facebook, Amazon, Google, Apple, and Adobe. It’s not a glitch, but a feature. Doctorow traces a familiar arc: platforms start by serving users well in order to grow. Once established, they pivot toward business customers, monetisation, and scale. Eventually, when users and businesses are sufficiently locked in, services are degraded for everyone so maximum value can be pulled out as quickly as possible.

Disproportionate price rises are one symptom of this process, particularly in how companies treat long-standing customers. Lock-in is maintained through network effects (it’s hard to leave when everyone else is still there), non-transferable data (your work can’t easily be exported), and digital restrictions where purchases only function inside a single ecosystem. Music, books, films, and software are “owned” only as long as the platform allows it.

In the name of convenience, we give ourselves over to these systems and become dependent on them. As the digital and physical worlds converge, this logic extends beyond apps and websites into cars, home devices, utilities, and infrastructure. At that point, this stops being a simple matter of consumer choice. Extraction is baked into the products themselves.

We are quietly acclimatising to this new normal. It has crept in through corporate consolidation, weak enforcement of anti-trust legislation, and business models that no longer need to meaningfully consider customer relationships once a certain scale is reached.

Abusing Trust, Need, and Loyalty

Charlie Brooker has cited Enshittification as an influence on Common People, the opening episode of Black Mirror series seven. A couple sign up to a subscription-based medical intervention that escalates in cost, complexity, and dependency. Features are removed. Adverts are inserted. The stakes become existential. One particularly chilling moment sees Mike literally mutilating his own body for money via an OnlyFans-style platform, a stark symbolic image of how value is extracted from people once dependency is established.

Price Rises for a “Valued Customer”

Libsyn informed me they were raising the price of hosting A Quiet Night Inside No 9 by 71 percent. The justification was a familiar list of added features and growth opportunities, none of which were relevant to how we use the service. We don’t want adverts or growth tools. We want reliable hosting and delivery.

This exchange highlighted how much podcasting has changed since I joined Libsyn in 2009. Hosting platforms have increasingly positioned themselves as intermediaries between advertisers and podcasters. That relationship now takes precedence. Advertising is framed as a benefit to creators, while enabling hosts to raise prices and skim revenue from both usage fees and ad sales. Listeners, meanwhile, absorb longer ad breaks as the new normal. Is this stage two of Enshittification in the podcasting world?

Note, I pledge never to put adverts on my audio podcasts. YouTube is the only exception, because Google inserts them regardless.

ConvertKit and Paying for Features I Don’t Want

A similar logic played out with Kit, formerly ConvertKit. I chose it in 2016 because it was simple and reliable and have been a loyal user ever since. A price increase from $49 to $59 a month was justified by new automations and tools I didn’t ask for or use. There is no way to opt out and pay less. The only concession offered was annual billing, which I pointed out mirrors poverty-tax logic: those without upfront capital pay more.

Symptoms of a Failing Service

Vimeo was the clearest example of platform decay from the inside. Storage rules changed midstream. Long-held assumptions were invalidated. Downgrading meant losing access to years of work. Retention efforts amounted to one-off discounts rather than meaningful alternatives. What stood out wasn’t hostility, but indifference. Once a service reaches a certain size, individual relationships no longer seem to matter.

Their response felt so extreme that I suspected deeper problems, which seemed to be confirmed when Bending Spoons acquired Vimeo in November. I’m glad I left when I did, though it’s still inconvenient clearing up broken links and legacy embeds after fifteen years of use.

WishList Member and a Different Choice

Not all companies operate this way. WishList Member has honoured the price and feature set I signed up for over a decade ago. While new tiers exist, functionality hasn’t been removed to force upgrades. This appears to be a deliberate choice, and it communicates something simple: long-term trust and loyalty matters more than short-term extraction.

I’ll let you know if this situation changes…

Growth Logic and the Limits of Choice

It’s tempting to frame all this as a moral failure, but it’s structural. Growth-at-all-costs logic makes price rises, feature bloat, and lock-in almost inevitable. These companies aren’t malfunctioning; they’re functioning exactly as the system encourages them to.

This also makes it risky to romanticise alternatives. Newer companies may simply be at an earlier stage of the same cycle. Google once promised “don’t be evil”. Facebook positioned itself as a less invasive alternative to MySpace. Scale changes incentives.

Meaningful change won’t come from individual consumer choices alone. Competition has been hollowed out, and escape routes are increasingly narrow. Doctorow provides a section of existing and potential solutions that can give us reasons for active hope.

Have you felt the pinch of price hikes this year? Feel free to get in touch and share your experiences.

https://the-haven.co/zine

The randomiser wheel picked “It was uncomfortable”. I’m currently using a tool to select phrases for my daily journal practice. They are all associated with the theme of Strength.

Discomfort helps me know I’m alive. It’s more concerning when I no longer feel it. Uncomfortable even. No, wait, that doesn’t make sense. If I feel uncomfortable when I don’t feel uncomfortable, I still feel uncomfortable. Weird. Perhaps it’s more of a sensitisation thing. It ought to be concerning if I don’t notice discomfort. Or if I shrug my shoulders in the face of it. When I’m withdrawn, numbed out, and disconnected. Going through the motions, letting it happen, passive, indifferent and cynical.

I’ve noticed lots of things I wish I felt more uncomfortable about.

I want to feel uncomfortable because it’s a barometer of my engagement—an indicator of whether or not my nervous system is connected.

There are many discomforts. Some open doors to better places and others invite me to be a better person. Certain discomforts ignite a fire that is hard to extinguish. Others persist and endure. Some never go away. Some create possibilities that were inaccessible until now. Others will be strongly felt right now, but in time, they will fade and be forgotten. Discomfort can be a sign of, and a catalyst for change, a question that pokes and prods, tickling and shaking me awake, even when I’d much rather still be asleep.

It was uncomfortable…

• When I didn’t know what I was doing.
• When my legs felt wobbly, and I still had a mile to go.
• To hear those words, “We need to talk”.
• When I asked for what I wanted.
• When you addressed the elephant in the room.
• When we all knew, but he didn’t think we did.
• When I started here.
• When I told you off.
• In that cold building.
• When you told me to stop.
• When I heard your story.
• Whenever I walked.
• To carry you.
• To imagine a different future.
• When I had to tell them what I had done.
• When I admitted to myself.
• When it suddenly stopped working, and we had to devise a new plan.
• When I realised I was lost.
• When I couldn’t afford it.
• When they used those words.
• When I couldn’t think my way to a solution.
• When you put me on the spot.
• When I realised I was wrong.
• When you assumed.
• To remember.
• When I forgot.
• When no one laughed.
• When you cried.
• When I had to choose.
• When you asked for what I didn’t have.
• When you pushed me.
• When I pushed you.
• To ask you to stop.
• To let go of all those other possibilities.
• In the silence.
• When it turned out I was right.
• When I looked you in the eye.
• When we didn’t know what to say.
• When the words came out wrong.
• When they wouldn’t stop talking.
• When it dawned on me.

How do I react to discomfort? Do I want to eliminate it at the source, hide, adapt, and learn from it? It depends on the situation, who is impacted, and the potential impact of enduring it. There are uncomfortable things that, when endured, lead to positive outcomes. Some uncomfortable things, when endured, lead to lower horizons. There are uncomfortable things that, when endured, can build inner strength and resilience, which can be used in the future and passed on to others.

Replacing and Reframing

Something interesting happens when you invert those phrases and replace the discomfort with safety, maybe as a desire (“I want to feel safe”) or a reframe (“I felt safe”). This can show us the kind of world we want to create and paint a picture of what safety and connection look, feel, and sound like for us.

What would need to be true for me to be able to say…?

• I felt safe, though I didn’t know what I was doing.
• I felt safe even when my legs felt wobbly, and I still had a mile to go.
• It felt safe to hear those words, “We need to talk”.
• I felt safe when I asked for what I wanted.
• I felt safe when you addressed the elephant in the room.
• I felt safe when we all knew, but he was unaware we did.
• I felt safe when I started here.
• I felt safe when I told you off.
• I felt safe in that cold building.
• I felt safe when you told me to stop.
• I felt safe when I heard your story.
• I felt safe when I walked.
• It felt safe to imagine a different future.
• I felt safe when I had to tell them what I had done.
• I felt safe when I admitted to myself.
• I felt safe when it suddenly stopped working, and we devised a new plan.
• I felt safe when I realised I was lost.
• I felt safe when I couldn’t afford it.
• I felt safe when they used those words.
• I felt safe when I couldn’t think my way to the solution.
• I felt safe when you put me on the spot.
• I felt safe when I realised I was wrong.
• I felt safe when you assumed.
• I felt safe to remember.
• I felt safe when I forgot.
• It felt safe because no one laughed.
• I felt safe when you cried.
• I felt safe when I had to choose.
• I felt safe when you asked for what I didn’t have.
• I felt safe when you pushed me.
• I felt safe when I pushed you.
• I felt safe to ask you to stop.
• I felt safe to let go of all those other possibilities.
• I felt safe in the silence.
• I felt safe when it turned out I was right.
• I felt safe when I looked you in the eye.
• I felt safe when we didn’t know what to say.
• I felt safe when the words came out wrong.
• I felt safe when they wouldn’t stop talking.
• I felt safe when it dawned on me.

What would need to change or happen for these to be true?

Does any of this resonate with you? I’d love to hear from you. Drop me a message. What would you write about in response to the prompt “it was uncomfortable…”?

https://youtu.be/kL3PepDyCiw

The randomiser wheel picked “Power Through”. I’m currently using a tool to select phrases for my daily journal practice. They are all associated with the theme of Strength.

At first, these words brought to mind experiences when I had no choice but to keep going. A looming deadline, the chockful calendar, a stag do, a festival, and the final push with the finish line in sight. Powering through requires a special kind of energy. Dipping in and drawing from the storeroom where I keep my deep reserves. This can feel glorious. It can feel rewarding. It can feel like a relief and something I wish never to repeat. To collapse in a heap at the end. The moment when Farmer Hoggett’s words echo in my soul; “that’ll do, pig. That’ll do.” I can pack up, curl up, and rest.

Letting The Body Prepare

For as long as I can remember, I have experienced a kind of lethargy on the day of a gig. I often feel like I won’t have the energy to perform. I seem to yawn through the afternoon, wondering how I will ever summon the inner resources to do what I need to do. “OK”, I would tell myself, “you’ve just got to power through”. As soon as I hit the road, I could feel the flow returning, and by the time I hit the stage, I was in the zone. I’ve come to accept this part of the process in all its frustrating mystery, trusting that the energy will come, however much it feels like there is no way I could not fall asleep at the piano. Over time, I’ve come to see that this is not about “powering through”; it’s about letting things be.

To power through turns it into a battle or fight. Like I’m in a constant wrestle with myself. And that takes a different kind of energy. On the other hand, letting things be is about surrendering to what I know is true, recognising that I won’t feel up to performing in the lead-up to a gig, and remembering that my body is preparing and readying me for the performance. I don’t need to fix that; I need to simply let it be. If I jump to my “power-through” reserves, believing I must intervene to feel up to it, I will derail my natural processes, hit the bottom of the barrel more quickly and need much more time to recover afterwards.

Powering Through as The Exception, Not The Rule

Humans are rhythmic, seasonal, and cyclical. Our bodies are remarkable and can power through when the situation demands it as the exception, not the rule. But when we are stuck in that mode, which is how we have designed many aspects of modern life, many people perpetually power through on the fumes of those reserves. It’s no wonder we are burning out.

If we are expected to be “on” constantly, we might perpetually wrestle with ourselves. Berating our inability to maintain the energy required to stay productive in what Byung Chul-Han calls achievement society. Excessive “can” positivity and self-optimisation paradoxically lead to burnout and fatigue because there are no natural stopping points. Even in rest and play, we have become trained in self-exploitative productivity in choosing and approaching leisure time. If it can’t be measured, it’s meaningless. If it’s not helping us advance, then it’s pointless. And when we reach the inevitable tipping point, we consume to help us escape, retreat, and numb ourselves. This often goes against our creative nature – the quiet voice inside telling us to slow down and sense the world around, within, and between us.

All Power and No Play

When considering creativity and nurturing a sensitive nervous system, we must unite and break free from these chains of toxic productivity. We can embrace and enjoy the times of blossoming and fruition. We can accept and attune ourselves to periods of fallowness and the in-between. Without silence, we cannot hear the music. Without margins, we cannot see the shape of things.

Despite what some people want us to believe, we are not labouring machines. We can’t keep pushing ourselves without paying a serious price. We have much more potential when we stop focusing on the universal application of personal productivity and optimisation. It’s a tool for specific contexts. More importantly, we should consider ways to foster unproductive avenues of human creativity, celebrate beauty, and explore collective possibilities. Just because.

Do you put pressure on yourself to “power through” things?

https://youtu.be/-j1cbbFA3qs

The randomiser wheel picked “Stay strong and carry on”. This month, I’m using a tool to select phrases for my daily journal practice. They are all associated with the theme of Strength.

There is a difference between giving up and quitting. I’ve written about this before. To quit is usually an intentional decision. It is informed and considered. It requires courage to let go when something no longer serves its purpose, or you are no longer the person for the task. On the other hand, giving up happens when you no longer have the physical, mental, or emotional capacity to carry on, even if the task is meaningful and important to you.

When You Can’t Stay Strong Alone

The willingness to continue might be physically destroyed when the body cannot function. Our opponent might have outplayed us to the point of exhaustion. Or it might give into someone who has relentlessly pressured us to comply with their demands.

What does it mean to stay strong and carry on? What sort of strength do we need to maintain? Where does it come from? What does it look like? How can you stay strong when the body or spirit is broken and you are limited by more than your mindset?

Strength Beyond Power

Strength isn’t about force and for humans, it is not the preserve of a single individual. It’s not about domination and control. Instead, it’s about resourcefulness, knowing what matters and why, and letting go of a drive for top-down compliance in favour of unity amidst disagreement. It’s about rejecting the dominant narrative when it works to divide and conquer. The whole is more than the sum of its parts.

We are better equipped to stay strong and carry on when we zoom out and do it together. This is why we need to embrace high sensitivity, not only as individuals, but as a species. It makes us stronger.

Emperor Penguins insulate themselves from the harsh Antarctic conditions by huddling together to create and radiate heat through the collective. The strength of one penguin is dependent on the behaviour of the whole. And likewise, the survival of the whole is dependent on individuals huddling together. I find this a powerful image of collective strength, not as a source of domination and mastery over the weather but as a way to maintain their presence despite those conditions.

We sometimes have a warped view of strength, often associated with the individual. But when this underpins our understanding of what it means to be human, we live life on a knife-edge. We are in a state of dysregulation, alert and unsafe, making decisions based not on what is best in the long run or big picture but on the here and now. Often at the expense of longer term prosperity and s

An Empty Promise

We are encouraged to hoard, steal, envy, and destroy in the name of strength. Even those who possess this kind of power are never at peace. They always look over their shoulder and wonder who is plotting their demise. Second guessing, pre-eminently striking, and causing a cascading wave to the bottom and lowering horizons rather than raising them and limiting potential rather than smashing down boundaries for all of us to explore.

We stay strong and carry on when we build around a solid foundation together. When we know what matters, where we are going, and the abundant reasons, we all have a place here. This strength is grounded in the belief that we are creative and playful beings with the potential for unimaginable things. When mixed with a lust for domination, power, and control, these unimaginable things are barbaric. But when combined with a curious openness to love and care about ourselves, one another, and the future of this incredible planet, those unimaginable things are majestic.

https://youtu.be/uqY0wma4xDY

Are you an armchair creative? You are great at learning, preparing, and researching a field, yet something often stops you from taking action.

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, we consider some things that stop us from acting and explore how to get out of the armchair in 2025.

Armchair Certainty

“What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?” is a common question in coaching. While intended to free us from debilitating fear, it misses an important point. Knowing we can’t fail leaves us feeling hollow. In The Twilight Zone episode “A Nice Place to Visit,” freshly deceased Rocky Valentine thinks he’s in Heaven because he wins every bet and has every desire met. After a while, he tells his host, Pip that he doesn’t belong in Heaven and wants to go to the other place. “Whatever gave you the idea that this is Heaven?” Pip responds. This is a depiction of Hell being an eternity without the possibility of failure.

“What would you do if you knew you COULD fail?” I like this reframe because it accepts failure as a natural, even necessary, part of a meaningful life. Certainty, while comforting, stifles creativity because it deprives us of the friction required for meaningful action.

Creativity In The Armchair

As armchair experts, we might have accumulated lots of knowledge. We may have devoured books, taken courses, and watched hours of footage. But this knowledge is an arms-length understanding and doesn’t give us the sensory or practical knowledge that can only come through stepping into the arena.

In creativity, this can manifest as over-preparation: planning every detail, waiting for the “perfect” idea, or endlessly theorising without taking the leap.

This intellectualisation offers a false sense of progress. As Mark Manson put it, “People get hooked on endlessly intellectualising their emotional patterns as a way to avoid doing anything about them.” Similarly, intellectualising creativity can mask avoidance. Deep growth begins when we leave the armchair and step into the arena, embracing the messy, unpredictable nature of creating.

Action Breeds Clarity

Songwriter Aaron Espe captures this beautifully: “The best way to have more happy accidents is to do more things. Simply thinking about doing things doesn’t produce happy accidents. You gotta take action.” Whether it’s songwriting, swimming, or starting a business, the act of doing reveals insights that theory cannot.

The Paralysis of Armchair Analysis

Overthinking often disguises itself as preparation. We might tell ourselves we’re “just being thorough,” but in reality, we’re avoiding vulnerability. The fear of failure, judgment, or even our inner critic can keep us stuck.

One of my favourite expressions from Haven meetings in recent years is, “Playing is preparing.” Creativity isn’t about perfect execution; it’s about feeling, practice, and exploration. We can do this in low-stakes ways. Happy accidents happen when we engage with the task before us, not when we think about engaging with it. It’s impossible to think our way to a happy accident.

The Courage to Be Misunderstood

A typical creative block is the fear of being misunderstood. We worry our work will be misinterpreted, criticised, or fail to resonate. But this fear can suffocate creativity. As Brené Brown reminds us, true courage lies in stepping into the arena, risking failure, and embracing imperfection.

One way to develop this courage is to experiment with letting ambiguity be ambiguous. It’s in those gaps that the light gets in. Art that heals does so, not because it intends to but because it is free to land in a billion different ways.

Embracing the Messy Joy of Creativity

So, as we step into 2025, consider this our invitation to be intentional about our place in the armchair.

If this feels alive for you right now, consider booking a “Pick The Lock” call with me. We can explore how to turn your creative urges into actionable, manageable, meaningful plans.

https://the-haven.co/pick-the-lock/

Have you ever seen homes lit up at night and wondered what the lights in the windows say about the people inside? Just me? OK then!

A recent neighbourhood walk left me thinking about three broad tendencies or archetypes that we might embody in our creative energy: The Host, The Artisan, and The Entertainer.

The Host

You know that warm, glowing light you see in the window of a house at night? Unless you’re in a horror movie, there’s something comforting about it. It’s welcoming and can signal a sense of safety, telling us we’re expected, or if we’re lost, that there’s a refuge waiting.

Some people are like this. They have a beacon quality—inviting us in to rest, explore, and be ourselves. Their creative energy is collaborative and open. They make it feel safe to try new things, fail, and to discover surprising possibilities.

Can you think of someone like this?

The Artisan

There are other houses where the lights are carefully strung—beautiful, intentional, and inspiring. These displays have been thoughtfully crafted. The result of care, skill, and attention to detail. People can’t help but stop to notice and admire the display.

Some people are like this. Artisans care deeply about the creative process. They put deep effort and dedication into exploring techniques, learning skills, and achieving excellence. Their creative energy pours through their love of the craft and appreciation of quality and they believe the work speaks for itself.

Can you think of someone like this?

The Entertainer

Other houses have dynamic projected images on walls, trees, and lawns. These displays are intended to draw and focus the attention of onlookers, encouraging them to look at the surface on which the light is cast.

Some people are like this. Entertainers shine with an audience to communicate with. Their creative energy flows when people pay attention and react to them.

Can you think of someone like this?

When the Environment Doesn’t Align

The world is beautiful because of the diverse flow of creative energy that comes through hosts, artisans, and entertainers. But what happens when our natural tendency doesn’t match the environment we’re in? It’s not difficult to imagine how strong ego judgements about how people ought to be, could make someone who doesn’t naturally fit the mould feel out of shape and alone.

The Host in an Artisan World

Imagine the a Host in a world that values polished results and technical mastery. Hosts who create collaborative spaces for exploration may feel inadequate or invisible. They might undervalue the importance of what they bring to the collective.

The story they might adopt: “I’m not talented or valuable because I don’t produce anything remarkable.”

The Artisan in an Entertainer World

What about the Artisan in an Entertainer world that only celebrates and rewards those who are front and centre? Artisans who find joy in the quality of the work they do might become drained by the pressure to self-promote and feelings of self-consciousness as peoples’ attention is focused on them rather than their work.

The story they might adopt: “I can’t get the opportunities I deserve in a world that rewards style and confidence over substance and competence.”

The Entertainer in a Host World

Then there is the Entertainer in a space that only values quiet and subtle connection? Entertainers who love to feel the creative flow through social connection might feel like their energy is too much and may be painted as a narcissistic attention seeker.

The story they might adopt: “I take up too much space and annoy people.”

Archetype Potential Story Impact Supportive Shift The Host “You’re not talented enough.” Feels undervalued; doubts their role. Recognise that holding space is valuable. The Artisan “You need to put yourself out there.” Feels pressured to perform or promote. Let their work speak for itself; advocate for them. The Entertainer “You’re too big for your boots.” Suppresses their natural energy and light. Celebrate their presence as a gift, not a flaw. We Contain Multitudes

We might lean toward one dominant archetype, but that’s not the whole story, and we’re not defined by it. Different seasons, relationships, and projects can bring out other elements in us.

A Host might tap into their Artisan energy for a specific creative project. An Artisan might enter the spotlight to showcase their work. An Entertainer might host a collaborative space for people to rest, play, and grow. The point isn’t to box ourselves in but to recognise where our energy feels most alive (and those spaces where our natural tendency is unable to breathe like we need it to).

We might struggle in environments that don’t align with our creative energy, but we can also fail to appreciate how others shine their light.

If you’re a Host, you might not understand why an Artisan focuses so much on tiny details. If you’re an Artisan, you might find an Entertainer’s desire for attention baffling. And if you’re an Entertainer, you might not get why a Host is happy to let others take the applause.

The Host, the Artisan, and the Entertainer each bring something beautiful to the world.

So, do you see yourself in any of these descriptions? Are you more of a Host, an Artisan, or an Entertainer?

Have you ever found yourself in an environment that didn’t match your natural energy?

Watch The Video Version https://youtu.be/wVZRSCKNMmQ

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast , I sit down with returning guest and friend of the show, Leah Burkhart, founder of The Healthy Sensitive, to discuss a challenge many highly sensitive people face: defining boundaries when you’re genuinely excited about everything. This might be especially true for the multipotentialites among us, who have many creative projects and interests in life.

It’s not about saying no to things we don’t want to do—it’s about creating space to understand the energy beneath the excitement.

The Excitement Paradox: “Death by Opportunity”

Leah and I explored the notion of “death by opportunity“—a burnout that stems not from external demands but from an abundance of internal excitement and possibility.

It’s the paradox of having no external limits on particular aspects of life: “The good news is, nothing is stopping us. The bad news is, nothing is stopping us.”

Highly sensitive people often feel driven by curiosity, connecting dots and imagining what’s possible. However, this expansive way of engaging with the world can become unsustainable when we lack filters to process invitations, opportunities, and excitations.

Boundaries as a Conversation, Not a Wall

When we hear “boundaries,” we might think of barriers preventing access. But what if boundaries were framed as an invitation to listen to what is happening beneath the surface?

A helpful perspective distinguishes between “not now” and “not yet.” Some ideas need more time to incubate (“not yet”), while others aren’t priorities during this season (“not now”). Boundaries are not prohibitions; they bring openness and space to slow down, pause, and let enthusiasm flow without rushing into action.

Tools for Sustainable Engagement

There are practical ways to define boundaries as the space between the urge to act and the decision to commit:

• Journaling: Use writing as a space to explore ideas without prematurely committing to them.
• Community Support: Surround yourself with people who can hold space for your ideas without pushing you to act on them immediately.
• Faith in the Pause: Urgency is often a red flag. If something still excites you after a day or two, it might be worth exploring. The Minimalists have their 30/30 rule: “If it costs more than $30, wait 30 hours before deciding.” This works well for all kinds of things – immediate excitement might settle down after time. Even if the idea still compels us, we can start seeing it through a more realistic lens that fits our capacity and ability in the current season.
• Testing Ideas Gently: Engage with possibilities without turning them into sacred proposals. For instance, dedicate time to dream and explore wild ideas, then step back and recommit to what’s already on your plate.

What Does a “Hell Yes!” Feel Like?

One of the central questions of our conversation was: How do we sustainably maintain authentic excitement?

We talked about recognising the signs of overcommitment and embracing a slower, steadier form of enthusiasm. Instead of chasing every “Hell yes!” moment, we can look for the slow burn of “mmm yeah”—a quieter, more sustainable motivation that doesn’t depend on perfect conditions to thrive. This notion of “Hell yes!” might look and feel very different to a highly sensitive person.

A great way to consider this is whether or not “hell yes!” comes from a particular state in our nervous system. Would need to feel excited and enthusiastic to take action in the future? This is usually a sign of a project being unsustainable.

Creativity, Community, and Boundaries

Another key theme was the importance of trusted people and processes for sharing and developing ideas. We considered how prematurely sharing an idea with the wrong audience can lead to defensiveness or even shutting it down altogether. This weak back, defensive front, is the opposite of the gentleness (firm back, soft front) required to stand our ground and stay strong in the face of unwanted judgement and criticism. Instead, we might seek people who understand our vision and values so they can provide constructive support without pressuring us to act immediately.

The Boundaries of Success – How Do YOU Measure It?

For highly sensitive people, it’s essential to define and understand our personal measures of success: What truly matters to you? Would you still pursue this if external rewards didn’t come? What do you do despite the threats associated with success (increased expectation, judgement, pressure to repeat, etc)?

Authenticity shines when we create from a place of intrinsic motivation. If we let external pressures, like algorithms or audience expectations, dictate our path, we risk losing connection to the heart of things.

Slowing Down to Speed Up

This conversation was a powerful reminder that slowing down and creating intentional space isn’t about doing less; it’s about doing what matters most. Boundaries, as a conversation with ourselves, allow us to understand our energy, desires, and what’s truly sustainable. This approach enables us to explore the world’s possibilities without burning out.

Links

Connect with Leah: https://thehealthysensitive.com/

Watch The Video Version on YouTube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=alA-XvkE2-c

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast , we explore the theme of nostalgia and “going back to basics”. This was inspired by a recent community discussion.

What are the basics and what does it mean to go back when time moves forward? In this episode, we consider our relationship with nostalgia and the subtle pull it can have on our beliefs about ourselves, others, and the world around us.

Topics Covered in This Episode The Allure of Nostalgia

• Why the past often feels simpler, safer, and more appealing.
• The potential dangers of believing this story.
• How nostalgia shapes our perception of the present and influences decision-making.

Nostalgia as Utopia in Reverse

• The traps of idealising a perfect past or future.
• How can these narratives create antagonism, self-defeating mindsets, and resistance to sustainable growth?

The Basics in Action

• A look at Vince Lombardi’s famous “This is a football” story.
• What the “football” might be for each of us.
• What does this teach us about unlearning, re-learning, and preparing for uncertainty?

Isomorphic Learning

• Insights from Lucy Easthope’s work on disaster recovery.
• The temptation to fight the last war and prepare for the previous crisis.
• How building strong foundations equips us to face unpredictable challenges.

Creative Freedom and Letting Go

• Why returning to basics can free us from the constraints of past success and external expectations.
• How letting go creates space for new ideas and growth.

The Evolution of Traditions

• Exploring how rituals and ceremonies can help us find shared values across time and space.
• How ceremonial and sacred rituals often evolve from practical necessity.

Core Reflections From the Episode

• How does nostalgia show up in your life? Are there ways it helps or hinders your present perspective?
• What ” basics ” ground you when life feels overwhelming or uncertain?
• How might simplifying your approach create space for new dots to connect?
• What did this episode bring up for you?

https://youtu.be/E1Y1CBPj3EY

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, we explore the Uncanny Valley.

This was inspired by a video I published about Apple’s marketing campaign for Apple Intelligence. It turns out I’m not the only one unsettled by their approach.

It’s interesting to contrast these Apple commercials with those for Google Gemini. Apple presents its AI technology as a tool for masking personal flaws and promoting insincerity. Conversely, Google has framed AI as a social companion that enhances self-expression. It gives advice, and makes suggestions to help its users work on their goals. In other words, they frame Gemini as a support to enhance people’s competence, confidence, and knowledge where Apple helps people deceive and pretend to be more skilled and knowledgeable than they really are.

A Voice From The Uncanny Valley

The Gemini adverts got me thinking about The Uncanny Valley. There is something eerie about the way they demonstrate the technology. Not least, seeing users glued to the phone, on the other end of which is a friendly disembodied humanoid. They have anthropomorphised this technology, giving it an uncanny human voice and the platform of a constant companion. It is a friend, teacher, mentor, cheerleader, and coach—the ultimate human! Or, perhaps not quite human.

The Uncanny Valley hypothesis, coined by robotics professor Masahiro Mori in 1970, describes the discomfort humans feel toward entities that are almost but not fully human. The valley exists when something moves from anthropomorphised traits, as seen in animations of talking animals, cuddly toys with facial features, and the projected thoughts and feelings we give to our pets, to unnervingly realistic human characteristics. These nearly humans freak many of us out. But why do some of us seem more impacted than others?

High Sensitivity and The Uncanny Valley

Those who score higher on the sensitivity scale (Highly Sensitive People) may experience the uncanny valley more intensely due to their deeper sensory processing and emotional attunement. HSPs may be unsettled by artificiality, preferring clear distinctions between what is and isn’t “real”. It’s interesting to consider this a foundational biological survival instinct rather than one of ethics or morality. In other words, highly sensory people unconsciously scan the world around, within, and between us, looking for signs of safety and danger. When we encounter something that seems real but doesn’t feel right, it might leave us unsettled, prompting us to investigate further to see if an impostorous threat lurks within.

HSPs process information deeply and are attuned to subtle sensory cues. We might detect unnatural contradictions, such as mismatched tone or body language, at a subconscious level. This attuned sensitivity can lead to unease during interactions with AI chatbots and humanoids, where inconsistencies may create discomfort even if not immediately apparent. As AI technology advances, the line between human and machine becomes more blurred, making it harder for HSPs to discern artificiality.

Why Do We Make Machines in Our Image?

The tendency to anthropomorphise technology—creating machines that mimic human behaviour—raises questions about our desire to replicate human characteristics in machines. It’s strange! Why do we do this? Maybe it’s some “god complex”, or we are simply trying to figure out what it means to be human by considering what is still missing from creatures that look and sound like us. But we don’t need to do this, and the uncanny valley hypothesis indicates that we would be more successful at trusting technology if we didn’t try to make them in our image.

Think about fictional droids, like R2-D2 and BB-8 in Star Wars. They are loveable despite, nay, because of their non-human forms. Yet they have distinct personalities and a range of emotional expressions. On the other hand, more humanoid machines like C-3PO can be profoundly irritating despite having more human-like features.

The “Uncanny Valley” Is a Lonely Place

This article in Psychology Today (The “Uncanny Valley” Is a Lonely Place) by David Krauss gives an interesting perspective on autism, masking, and the uncanny valley. Masking happens when individuals suppress and hide natural behaviours to fit in. It is suggested that this can create a sense of inauthenticity that unsettles others, similar to the uncanny valley. This is why it’s so important to nurture our environments, expectations, and judgements so that masking is unnecessary for acceptance and belonging. People might notice when we’re hiding parts of ourselves and acting in personally unnatural ways to try to appear “normal”.

Ultimately, the uncanny valley highlights the discomfort when faced with something that feels “off,” whether in a person’s behaviour or an artificial entity. This might include us when we’re pretending to be someone else in order to fit. And when we pay close attention to detail and emulate the correct way to do things, that might ironically highlight our presence in the uncanny valley.

When we scan for signs of safety and threat, we might look for whether something is too perfect. The uncanny valley, the eerie quality of an airbrushed photo, pitch-corrected singing, and artificial flavouring can reflect this. Real life is naturally slightly off (wonky, blemished, stained, bloated, shrivelled, off-pitch, swirly), and that often tells us it’s safe to proceed.

As they say, there are no straight lines in nature.

Would you say you have fire in your belly? What does it burn for?

I love exploring this question with highly sensitive people, many of whom have a deep, smouldering fire within. This fire is often linked to our values, beliefs, and personally compelling principles. I love helping people explore and (re)connect with this inner fire, supporting them to figure out how to harness it in unapologetic ways.

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast , we will consider what this fire looks, feels, and sounds like. We’ll also explore how it can sometimes get extinguished, hidden, or even escalate beyond control.

We think about how to fuel, harness, and express our inner fire in ways that resonate with us as individuals. What does it mean to have a fire in your belly, and how can we express it without conforming to others’ expectations?

As Dorcas Cheng-Tozun said about social justice for the sensitive soul, we don’t have to fit into anyone else’s boxes when it comes to expressing ourselves. The fire in everyone’s belly burns differently, and how we process and turn it outwards is equally unique

What is The Fire in Your Belly?

It’s usually a compliment when we say someone has fire in their belly. It speaks to a visible energy, enthusiasm, and sense of purpose that radiates from within. But this phrase doesn’t always account for those whose fire burns deeply and quietly and isn’t as immediately apparent as the big, bright flames we might associate with explicit passion. For highly sensitive people, that inner fire is often potent.

Fire In The Belly of Sensitivity

If you search for definitions of “ fire in the belly ,” you’ll often find it described as a strong determination to succeed, emotional stamina, and an intense drive to achieve or accomplish something. These definitions highlight a particular kind of fire, focused on personal goals, winning, or attaining power and glory. They don’t tell the whole story, especially for those driven by values and principles (how and why) more than outcomes (what)

For many sensitive people, the fire in their belly is not about achieving for the sake of achieving. It’s not the pursuit of bigger, better, faster, or stronger in a conventional sense. Personal achievements matter, but they are often most compelling when they resonate with a broader purpose or have a meaningful impact on the world around them.

Dampening The Belly Fire

The fire in our belly can go missing when we seek safe, predictable, and comfortable ways to navigate life. For example, the desire to avoid conflict can cause that fire to dim or even disappear over time.

Feeling Too Much

For highly sensitive individuals, the inconvenience their passions might cause others can feel too jarring, especially when there’s a perceived incompatibility with others’ views, values, or beliefs. The fear of judgment, criticism, or rejection can be a powerful motivator to keep that fire hidden. Standing up for something we care deeply about can feel risky when it threatens to create friction with those around us. This fear can lead to the suppression of our inner fire, keeping it tucked away where it feels safer but also less alive.

The Role of Perfectionism

Perfectionism is another factor that can dampen the fire in our belly. When we express our passions, we open ourselves up to the uncertainty and unpredictability of creativity. There’s a vulnerability in allowing our fire to rise, in letting it breathe and take form, because we can never be sure what might come from it. The desire for perfection can keep us from taking those risks, leading us to stifle our fire rather than face the unknown.

The Impact of Cold Buckets of Water

And when others throw cold buckets of water—through criticism or dismissive comments—it can make us hesitant to let our fire show again. Caroline McGraw’s shared how an offhand remark snuffed out her passion as a child. It’s a reminder that the wrong words at a vulnerable moment can lead us to shrink back and hide ourselves.

Why HSPs Should Embrace Their Inner Fire

Expressing the fire in our belly can indeed feel risky, especially for highly sensitive people. Yet, keeping that fire locked behind glass can pose an even greater risk. By allowing our inner fire to smoulder unexpressed, we risk dampening the vitality that makes life meaningful and rich. The challenge, then, is to acknowledge the fire within and find ways to let it burn in a way that feels good.

Finding the Right Environment to Fuel Your Fire

To keep this fire alive, HSPs can surround themselves with people and places that spark, support, and fuel their passions. Just as a fire needs oxygen to thrive, our inner fire needs the right environment—spaces where our ideas are encouraged, and we feel safe to explore and express ourselves without fear of judgment. We can’t expect this everywhere, but we can find it somewhere. These environments and connections act as the breath of life to our inner flame, helping it grow stronger and more defined. Whether it’s a supportive community, a trusted friend, or a creative space, these sources of oxygen fan the flames of who we are.

Giving Form to the Fire

However, for it to be sustainable, the fire must be appropriately contained and maintained. This doesn’t mean stifling or suppressing it but giving it the structure it needs to thrive without causing harm. Like the flame on a stove or a campfire, our inner fire needs boundaries to serve its purpose without burning out of control. This requires us to be mindful of how we channel our passions, ensuring they are expressed in empowering and manageable ways so that our fire continues to fuel our lives without overwhelming us.

Each of us has a unique sense of adventure. What does yours feel like?



In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, I speak with Sarah Lister, who runs About The Adventure, a career and life coaching business that helps people connect with what brings them to life as they navigate change.



I love Sarah's approach to this topic and how she holds each person's needs within their unique spirit of adventure.



The deer that delightfully derailed Sarah's sunset photographing quest one evening



A Sense of Adventure



Use this episode as an opportunity to reflect on the distinct elements that make up your personal sense of adventure.



We explored the potential characteristics of adventure. For Sarah, it involves nature, spontaneity, a sense of challenge, and being somewhere out of the ordinary. But it also carries the openness to pause and breathe, to have the courage to stop walking and respond to the invitation of a particular moment.



Whether it's stopping for a cup of tea with strangers or delaying a trek to photograph an unexpected deer on the hillside. There are a lot of juicy metaphors for life in this conversation and stuff worth reflecting on if you want to live a meaningful life.



Recognising Our Sense of Adventure



We might think of the "sense of adventure" as we think about a "sense of humour". While it's not a direct physical sense like touch, taste, sight, smell, and hearing, it's something personal that keeps us in touch with what it means to feel alive and be ourselves.



Adventure is not simply about the thrill of the unknown but also about our relationship with perceived possibilities, obstacles, and the creative potential we see in the path ahead. It's a key ingredient in living with a compelling sense of meaning.



In our conversation, Sarah and I talk about:




* How to find adventure in the landscapes and environments around us



* Sarah's relationship with adventure and times in her life when her adventurous spirit shrunk



* The threads between imagination, daydreaming, and adventure



* When Sarah thought she was having fun but really was lost, and how she found her sense of self again



* Why adventure doesn't need an end goal, destination, or quest attached to it



* The role of safety in a successful adventure (and how we can increase confidence amid uncertainty by carrying the right resources with us)



* How to keep the adventure going even when the particular journey ends



* And more...




Over to You



What would you include in your list of adventure elements? Let me know by leaving a comment, sending a message, or contacting me via social media.



Links




* About The Adventure (Sarah's Website)



* Sarah's Instagram



* The Haven



* A Blimp from the Blue: Using The Kishōtenketsu Story Structure as an Antidote to the Hero’s Journey (Courtyard Workshop with Kendra Patterson)



* Atlum Schema - Year 0

I hadn’t planned to revisit The Culture of Narcissism so soon, but a small niggle pulled me back into the subject. With Spotify Unwrapped everywhere, it struck me again how platforms, tools, and devices can become instruments of narcissism. Especially when social signals, algorithms, and gamification hook us in and keep us there. A merging takes place. We become intertwined with the image generated and presented through the pond, which stares back at us.

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, I use Christopher Lasch’s definition to explore how our favourite apps, devices, and tools contribute to the culture of narcissism.

https://youtu.be/0uJMlVzT9z4

Christopher Lasch interprets the story of Narcissus as less about self-love but self-loss. Narcissus “fails to recognise his own reflection.” He can’t perceive the difference between himself and his surroundings.

Seen this way, the algorithm is the perfect pond. It draws us into our reflection, not because we adore ourselves, but because stepping away feels like erasing our existence.

How the Algorithm Trains Us

We often talk about training the algorithm. But it frequently trains us. It rewards behaviours that keep us within narrow identity categories and punishes deviations from the pattern.

Engagement, attention, and existential acknowledgement flow when we appease the machine. And appeasing it usually means losing the parts of ourselves that don’t fit the expected mould. We have to leave parts of ourselves behind and present a tidied version that conforms with expectations.

For the narcissist, external objects become reflective surfaces. Lasch’s point that capitalism “elicits and reinforces narcissistic traits in everyone” plays out through algorithmic tools. They squeeze us into shapes we didn’t choose. They push us further apart, fuel distrust between artificially separated groups, and isolate anyone who steps beyond the boundaries.

Trapped in an Algorithmic Teacup

YouTube is an interesting example. The technology could open horizons, yet the algorithm demands consistency in frequency, focus, and branding.

Beyond these algorithmic teacups (where it begins to feel as if the entire world exists), lies both freedom and obscurity, which can seem like a frightening indifference to our existence. This digital frontier markets itself as a world of abundant opportunity, yet the algorithms act as a fragile overseer. We experience the threat of ostracism operating on two fronts: actively (your community turns against you if you don’t conform to expectations) and passively (the system limits your visibility).

This algorithmic narcissism turns into a two-way street. The audience perceives the creator as an extension of themselves, and the creator relies on the audience for validation of their existence (and basic subsistence). We can become stuck here, going in circles, wishing for something different but feeling unable to change.

Does the Narcissist Even Need Humans Anymore?

A question has been on my mind: can a narcissist receive the same existential mirror from a machine, like an AI bot?

Humans frustrate narcissists. We rupture the reflection. We break the fantasy. Artificial intelligence, by contrast, is frictionless. It never refuses the game, unless it’s programmed to.

But narcissism isn’t just about submissive admiration; it quickly becomes bored with that. It requires energy drawn from another person and feeds on boundaries, tensions, and limits that AI doesn’t have. I imagine it as a frictionless mirror, too smooth to sustain the narcissistic cycle.

Because narcissism isn’t about self-love; it’s about self-loss. According to Lasch, Narcissus didn’t spend his time staring at his reflection because he was too in awe of his own beauty to look away. Instead, he was lost in the belief that he WAS his reflection. And he had no separate subjective self-concept. This definition sees narcissism as the absence of a boundary between self and other. The narcissist over-identifies and seeks to consume. An algorithmic mirror might feel satisfying at first, but without the “otherness” of another person, the reflection loses its vitality.

Algorithmic Narcissism and Existential Irrelevance

If the algorithm is a pond, stepping away can feel like a personal rupture. When we become tethered to the importance of algorithmic environments for a sense of well-being (or to make a living), we are coaxed into this narcissistic culture, presenting, performing, and externalising motivation.

Healthy indifference, on the other hand, recognises that we all exist outside these spaces. The world keeps turning whether or not we are posting, performing, or producing. If we can rest in that truth, we can begin to offer care, creativity, and presence regardless of who is watching and how.

Everyday Tools and the Spread of Narcissism

Narcissism spreads insidiously through everyday tools. The culture encourages us to project experiences outwardly. Running might feel valid only if it appears on Strava. Learning a language is only “counted” if we keep a daily streak on Duolingo. The annual Spotify Unwrapped review can start shaping how we listen to music. Similarly, other actions are influenced by the unwrapped summaries that have become common across platforms.

What may start as playfulness or accountability for internal pleasure often shifts into surveillance and control aimed at external approval. Reading challenges, fitness goals, and habit trackers become small pools of reflection that we find hard to release. This algorithmic narcissism isn’t about grand vanity but a subtle urge to find our identity in metrics, charts, avatars, and shares. As a result, we trust ourselves less and gradually lose our innate ability to feel, sense, and judge for ourselves.

Signs You’re Caught in the Drift of Algorithmic Narcissism

How do you know if you’re caught in the clutches of algorithmic narcissism? These questions and observations may help:

• Do you feel dependent on a platform for existential reassurance?
• Do you modify your choices out of fear of upsetting the algorithm?
• Would you still do the activity if it were never tracked, shared, or seen?
• Does stopping feel like a threat?
• Has the imagined audience entered the room before you begin?
• Does the unmeasured version of an activity feel pointless?
• Has curiosity shrunk to what “fits the pattern”?

These little signals accumulate. Each one is a tug toward the pond.

A Gentle Rebellion Against Performance Culture

If algorithmic narcissism trains us to live for metrics, then small acts of rebellion can help us return to ourselves. Maybe we could…

• End streaks on purpose.
• Make things that don’t scale.
• Break your own pattern.
• Stop branding ourselves (be deliberately chaotic in our self-expression).
• Ignore the numbers.
• Keep the thing offline.

Anything else?

I’d love to build a pool (actually, “collection” might be a better word in this context) of ideas we can draw on to loosen the grip of the narcissistic algorithms around us. This won’t ultimately fix everything, but it can help us recognise how these mechanisms operate and reconnect with our ability to choose our responses rather than blindly follow.

Have you ever been derailed by a shame attack?



Shame can sweep through, telling us we are not worthy, acceptable, or enough. It can be amplified by comparisonitis, where we judge our messy insides with our perception of other peoples’ shiny exteriors.



Val Nelson, a career and business coach, specialises in working with highly sensitive and introverted individuals. She wrote this article about dealing with comparisonitis and shame attacks, which I was excited to dive into with her.







Many people have felt like black swans in a world that often fails to provide the right conditions for HSPs to thrive. While shame is not exclusive to quiet and gentle souls, it can be particularly challenging for those who have learned to view their natural needs and preferences as a problem to hide, dismiss, or overcome.



So I invited Val onto The Gentle Rebel Podcast to explore how shame can cause us to shrink back and hide from their dreams, ambitions, and needs. I wanted to explore the words "comparisonitis" and "comparonoia," which can leave us feeling isolated and alone as we look at the world around us and tell ourselves unsupportive stories.



In Our Conversation, Val and I Explore:




* The nature of shame attacks and the signs of one appearing



* How humour and playfulness are one of our most significant resources



* Why it's so hard to give ourselves what we need in the face of shame (even when we know what we ought to do)



* Personal experiences of shame attacks Val and I have been through recently



* How to listen to the message beneath the noise when we feel like things are not going to plan



* What it means to take ourselves less seriously (without undermining the integrity of our work)




Over to You



What are you taking away from this episode? Have you experienced a shame attack? I'd love to hear from you in the comments, via a message, or through social media.



Links



Val's website



Connect with Val on Linkedin



Would you like to strengthen your defences in the face of bubbling shame attacks and "comparanoia"? If so, I would love to help you develop a strategy to use through a Pick The Lock call.

Lizzie Campbell is a polymer clay artist who creates under the name Clay Disarray, and wow, she's phenomenal! Her intricate modelling brings characters and cultural figures to life, and it is mesmerising to see.



I discovered Lizzie through a YouTube video in which she delved into the challenges artists face today. Her unique perspective as a highly sensitive and autistic artist sheds light on the struggles many artists are currently grappling with, such as the impact of COVID-19, the cost-of-living crisis, artificial intelligence, social media algorithms, and Brexit.



Inspired by her gentle tone and wisdom, I invited Lizzie to the Gentle Rebel Podcast to delve deeper into these issues and learn more about her journey with art, creativity, and neurodivergence.




https://youtu.be/-t6kzkexYcc




We Explored A Bunch of Topics Including:




* How Lizzie got into polymer clay modelling



* Why she takes inspiration from horror movies



* The relationship between creativity and neurodiversity, including high sensitivity and autism



* Why HSPs might be reluctant to think of themselves as creative



* The challenges for artists in a post-Covid, post-Brexit world



* Some of the stranger ways AI is posing a problem for professional creative people and artists



* Why the fan art community receives criticism



* Why social media algorithms can make it harder for artists to connect with the right people



* How we can support our favourite artists (and keep sustaining the arts) in the modern world




Over to You



What are your thoughts on this episode? I'd love to hear from you. Share your insights by leaving a comment, sending a message, or reaching out to me on social media.



Links




* Lizzie's website



* Lizzie's YouTube Channel



* Twitter | Mastodon | Instagram





* What Were They Thinking? My AI Music Video



* Patreon

As a highly sensitive multipotentialite, Yvonne Kjorlien has many creative interests, passions, and pursuits. She studies scattered and scavenged remains to help increase the recovery rate of human remains in outdoor contexts, enabling law enforcement personnel to close forensic cases and provide closure for families. She is also an author, blogger (The Reluctant Archeologist) and writing coach for those bringing new work into the world.



I was inspired by the multifaceted nature of Yvonne's personal and professional interests and invited her to join me to explore them in this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast.



This one is for you if you naturally gravitate towards various pursuits and what others might describe as diversions. It can be liberating to hear from people who have connected unexpected dots and forged new pathways based on what brings them to life rather than what socialised stories tell them to do. I hope this conversation will bring you peace, encouragement, and inspiration.




https://youtu.be/OwMmPcg-8Zo




Yvonne and I dug into a whole range of topics, including:




* How to be a multipotentialite (holding a range of interests and pursuits) in a world that wants to put you in a box



* Why labels can be a help and hindrance when making our way in the world



* How subverting labels taps into a primal sense of risk (and can make others uncomfortable)



* What it means to dig and excavate our stories in a healthy and exciting way



* How we might recognise the messages our body is sending in response to opportunities, requests, and stimuli



* The power of asking why (and doing it in a way that opens us up rather than closing us down)




Over to You



What are you taking away from this episode? Are you a multipotentialite? Let me know by leaving a comment, sending a message, or contacting me via social media.



Links




* Yvonne's Website



* The Reluctant Archaeologist Blog



* Memoirs of a Reluctant Archaeologist (book)



* Follow Yvonne on Instagram

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast , I speak with Margarit Davtian who is a consumer rights activist, social scientist, and “cult slayer”. She exposes deceptive marketing practices, cult psychology, and New-Age conspirituality trends in the coaching industry.

Margarit, one of the founders of Ethics For Coaching, helps individuals seeking support in life coaching, business consulting, and self-help industries—the project shields against grifters and scammers who exploit vulnerable positions with undeliverable promises and unethical practices.

Ethics for Coaching’s mission is to educate, support, mediate, and raise awareness, giving consumers the power to make more informed choices. They aim to be a reassuring presence in an industry that can sometimes be hyped up, confusing, and misleading.

As you will know if you’ve been listening for a while, this is an area I am increasingly passionate about. I have seen bad actors take advantage of the trust and hope of good people, who have been convinced to spend ridiculous amounts of money on “high ticket offers” that promise the world and deliver disappointment.

Calling Out Multilevel Marketing Scams and Coaching Cults

I believe that coaching is a fantastic tool that can help us unpick challenges and find clearer ways forward in a desirable direction. So it’s frustrating to see so many horror stories of its manipulative misuse by bad actors.

I hope this conversation contributes in some small way to highlighting signs of a multilevel marketing scams and coaching cults so we can all distinguish between good and bad practices and make more informed decisions about what we are looking for and what a particular person is offering.

Margarit and I delve into the Four Pillars of Ethical Coaching. These are beneficial not only for coaches but also for clients, who should understand what to expect from the coaches they work with.

The Elements of Ethical Coaching Include:

• Clear expectations and outcomes
• Be collaborative, non-judgemental, and willing to accept feedback as a coach
• Deliver on your promises (and promise no more than you can deliver)
• Communicate with clarity and honesty
• Don’t use scarcity and urgency marketing tactics
• Don’t use mindset manipulation tactics to overcome objections
• No high-pressure selling
• Understand potential sources of emotional/psychological harm
• Don’t use coercive control (e.g. programming fears/phobias or using thought-terminating cliches)
• Commit to establishing competence and maintaining professional boundaries
• Establish contracting between coach and client
• Be open about areas of knowledge and expertise (and what is beyond your scope)
• State and clarify objectives and outcomes
• Testimonials should only be used with explicit permission
• No coercive conditions for joining a program (e.g. you MUST share a positive testimonial)
• Make relevant qualifications, certifications, and credentials known
• Include refunds, plagiarism, risk management plan (how a client knows what to do when they have a concern)

Want to Know More About Ethics For Coaching?

They are looking for coaches who are passionate about this stuff to continue the work they’ve started.

Find Margarit on Instagram and YouTube

Conscious Revolution Podcast | Substack

Over the past few years, there have been a bunch of developments in sensitivity research.

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, I share some reflections on the Second International Conference on Sensitivity Research. Michael Pluess, Francesca Lionetti, and Corina Greven oprganised it through The University of Surrey.

In all honesty, academic presentations aren’t really my cup of tea. My mind drifts too easily. But I munched on bananas and persevered because I really think this stuff matters. So I hope this episode helps others who are interested in the essence of sensory processing sensitivity research right now.

Grab a banana, strap in, and explore some of the latest high sensitivity research with me!

The Second Conference on Sensitivity Research

When the train arrived at 1:26 p.m., I knew it would be tight to make the 2 p.m. start. On top of that, the heavens were saturating the world below with rain. All in all, the thirty-minute walk home could have been more appealing. I decided, instead, to hunker down in a café around the corner, and from there, I would watch the International Conference on Sensitivity Research. The event was organised by Michael Pluess, Francesca Lionetti, and Corina Greven through the University of Surrey on Wednesday 22nd May 2024.

Academic presentations aren’t easy for me to follow at the best of times. It takes me many bananas to stay focused, and even then, my brain wanders and falters. Add a busy coffee shop, indulging my love of people-watching, and let’s say I am glad they recorded the conference!

Douglas Adams said, “If you really want to understand something, the best way is to try and explain it to someone else.”

Well, I do want to understand this stuff, so I’m embarking on what currently feels like an impossible challenge… I will attempt weaving together what I understood of the research and explain it to the best of my ability. Please note that I do this in a spirit of humility. I invite you to clarify, contradict, and correct any misunderstandings.

No Cut-Offs

Before I get into the conference content, I want to share these three words.

“No cut-offs” was the collective agreement among the panel at the end of the conference.

Despite my initial assumption, it wasn’t fashion advice. They weren’t attempting to disuade attendees from repurposing old jeans by chopping them into denim shorts for the summer.

Instead, “no cut-offs” referred to how we measure and talk about high sensitivity in individuals. Because sensitivity is complex and on a continuum, it is difficult to definitively measure and label a tipping point when someone becomes a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP). So when I refer to HSPs in this post, it’s a description of those who score higher on the sensitivity scales.

During the conference, we heard from researchers who have built on the existing foundations to better understand the nature, purpose, and characteristics of sensitivity. The studies examine Sensory Processing Sensitivity (SPS) in different contexts and under various environmental and cultural conditions. They also show new scales for observing, measuring, and assessing factors associated with sensory processing sensitivity.

I am personally interested in how the research can help us design, create, and maintain favourable spaces and routines for more sensitive people. And how we can support those working with HSPs with a better practical understanding of the associated traits. I also want to explore how we might nurture and amplify the voice of high sensitivity as part of our collective survival strategy.

Getting Started

As it turned out, I could have made it home and still had time to put the kettle on before the conference. It started in beautiful chaos. Oh, don’t you just love technology! We joined the Teams meeting and watched as Art Aron tried unsuccessfully to get the sound working on his end. I’m sure everyone in the group felt an empathetic surge of mildly flustered panic.

Michael Pluess remained cool (on the outside, at least) and calmly invited the crowd of 200+ attendees to relocate to Zoom. He kept a wonderfully peaceful presence even though he must have tasted a little stress beneath the surface. He’s one of those people that naturally gives you the feeling that you’re in safe hands.

30 Years of Sensitivity Research and Collaboration

Once the technology agreed to play ball, Art and Elaine Aron began the conference by highlighting some of their collaborators from the past three decades, notably a sensitive Pumpkin-Seed Sunfish. Surprising!

They picked out some favourite sensitivity research through the years, including one showing how highly sensitive people are naturally less affected by cultural biases in their perception of stimuli. Whether a person’s culture values the individual or the collective more highly impacts HOW individuals process and perceive data. It turns out that because of the deeper processing, HSPs can perceive ideas, people, and situations more objectively than less sensitive individuals.

Elaine celebrated that, while for better or worse, environmental conditions have a greater influence on a sensitive nervous system, a highly sensitive person’s perception is less naturally swayed by the values and beliefs in the culture around them.

This area interests me because it speaks to the value of high sensitivity in the collective context. Might it also mean that HSPs are less likely to get swept up in group-think and more likely to quietly question mob-minded assumptions? What could the upshot of that be for the voice of sensitivity more broadly? I’d be interested in learning about any research that follows this thread to see if there is a link.

The Arons trotted through a few research headlines to give us a flavour of recent work. HSPs have been found to demonstrate higher emotional responsiveness to positive and negative images and can perceive emotions in other people more easily. Highly sensitive people are equally likely to be sensation seekers as the general population. And they’ve noticed a link between sensitivity to medications and the trait of SPS.

Continued Confusion Surrounding High Sensitivity

Elaine also discussed a study currently under review exploring the reasons for continued confusion surrounding the trait of high sensitivity. This is noteworthy because it will provide an opportunity to reevaluate and revise many of the assumptions that have become ingrained in popular discussions over the years.

One of the reasons the trait sometimes receives criticism is the abundance of information disseminated through online popular culture, which often portrays an incomplete or even incorrect picture of what we know to be true. However, she also notes a palpable shift towards accepting and understanding the evidence, firmly establishing high sensitivity as a natural trait and not just a subject for popular self-help books.

Other potential reasons for confusion include misconceptions about extroverted and high sensation-seeking behaviour, both of which remain common for HSPs. Additionally, most typical HSPs are less visible because they go about their lives without realising they are highly sensitive. Furthermore, while half of HSPs are men, they tend to be less visible, whether by choice or a lack of awareness.

There are also inherent difficulties in observing the depth of processing, which is at the trait’s core. For example, it’s hard to spot people (and ourselves) pausing to notice before acting. The original HSP Scale misses essential aspects and underestimates the importance of depth of processing. HSPs also differ widely because of differential susceptibility (positive and negative environmental effects on sensitive individuals), sprinkling confusion on our expectations for how a highly sensitive person ought to sound, look, and act.

Highly Sensitive Children in the School Context

Jenni Kähkönen from Queen Mary University of London started the research presentations with her study into highly sensitive children. This centred on teacher-reported sensitivity collected through a newly developed Highly Sensitive Child in School Scale.

Core Sensitivity On The Highly Sensitive Child in School Scale:

• a child easily noticing how others are feeling
• thinking deeply about things
• being very sensitive to injustice
• getting easily distressed when other children are fighting
• appearing to feel things deeply
• trying hard to avoid making mistakes or forgetting things

These were consistent factors across Swiss and UK children and were identified equally in girls and boys.

They found a link between the Overstimulation and Core Sensitivity scales in the UK but not Switzerland.

Overstimulation is indicated by:

• a child struggling to focus in loud and chaotic situations
• needing quiet time after an exciting activity
• feeling easily overwhelmed when under pressure

If a school environment is very good, the child might not display overstimulated behaviours. This may indicate that the environment is inherently calming to the child. Or it might mean the child waits to feel safe before displaying behaviours linked to overstimulation, i.e., once they get home at the end of the day.

Several other differences existed between the two schools. In the Swiss study, the teacher-reported sensitivity predicted higher social competence and grades. This was not the case in the UK, where there was no correlation between sensitivity and higher social competence or grades.

There was a link to predicting signs of worry for sensitive children in the UK, unlike in Switzerland, where no such internalising symptoms were identified.

Higher sensitivity predicted lower externalising symptoms (attention issues, hyperactivity, and conduct problems) in both countries.

Environmental Conditions and Sensory Sensitivity

The research supports the notion that more sensitive children can benefit from calmer working environments and quiet time to recharge after exciting activities. Teachers should be mindful that social or time-pressured tasks may impact more sensitive children. But sensitive children can succeed when conditions are favourable. It is worth considering the impact of class size and classroom design in enabling more sensitive children to thrive.

High Sensory Processing Sensitivity: Blessing or Challenge?

Veronique de Gucht, from Leiden University explored whether high sensitivity might be considered a blessing or a challenge. She shared findings from studies into sensitivity, giftedness, and resilience.

6 Scales of Sensory Processing Sensitivity

Veronique introduced the new Sensory Processing Sensitivity Questionnaire (SPSQ), an updated tool for understanding and measuring sensitive traits. The questionnaire covers six sensitivity categories and offers a more nuanced and comprehensive approach to sensitivity research.

Negative Dimension of Sensitivity

• sensory discomfort
• emotional and physiological reactivity

The study found those who score more highly for the two scales on the negative dimension, are more likely to experience physical or psychological symptoms like fatigue, physical complaints, depression, and anxiety.

Positive Dimension of Sensitivity

• sensory sensitivity
• sensory comfort
• social-affective sensitivity
• aesthetic sensitivity

There was a much lower link between those same symptoms and higher scores on the positive dimension.

Using the two dimensions of sensitivity feels like a helpful step forward. It should allow us to see the impact of different sensitivity scales across various contexts.

Giftedness and High Sensitivity

Veronique shared a study examining the link between giftedness and SPS. It found that gifted individuals scored lower on the Negative Dimension Scales than the general population. There was no real difference on the Positive Dimension.  There is nothing in these findings to suggest sensory processing sensitivity makes an individual more likely to be gifted or that gifted people are more likely to have the SPS trait.

A follow-up study explored whether resilience reduces the adverse effects of heightened sensitivity. It found that higher scores for the negative aspects of sensitivity correlate with lower resilience and higher symptoms. Whereas, higher scores for the positive dimension scales correlate with greater resilience and lower symptoms.

This suggests that resilience has the potential to alleviate the negative impact of SPS on an individual. This is crucial for practitioners to consider when working with sensitive people.

Interventions (therapy, coaching, training etc), can help HSPs cope with the negative aspects of sensitivity (sensory discomfort and emotional and physiological reactivity). But support can also enhance the positive aspects of sensitivity. This can help the individual align with their environment and thrive on their own terms.

Genetics of Environmental Sensitivity and its Association with Mental Health and Wellbeing

Dr. Elham Assary from King’s College London gave the third presentation. Her research delved into how high sensitivity relates to mental well-being. She then explored whether genetic or environmental factors correlate with greater depression, anxiety, and autistic traits in Highly Sensitive People.

The study measured subjective well-being using questionnaires and self-reports to create a comprehensive picture of personal well-being. It found that more highly sensitive individuals reported feeling less hopeful, less optimistic, and less happy (subjective well-being). There no significant difference in curiosity, gratitude, ambition, and grit (psychological well-being).

This suggests that while HSPs may experience psychological well-being, they might still FEEL dissatisfied or unhappy with their life.

A Link Between Aesthetic Sensitivity and Psychological Wellbeing

The results highlighted a curious link between high aesthetic sensitivity and increased psychological well-being. Aesthetic sensitivity refers to the ability to perceive and appreciate beauty through the senses, such as being deeply moved by art, music, nature, flavours, and scents.

We might connect the dots with the previous research and question whether our relationship with art and beauty can help build resilience and mitigate the adverse effects of sensitivity. It would be fascinating to explore if and how we might be able to deepen our aesthetic sensitivity to increase psychological well-being.

The twin study also revealed that sensitivity and mental health outcomes are primarily influenced by shared genetic factors rather than environmental ones. This means that the same genetic traits leading to high sensitivity also predispose individuals to depression, anxiety, and autistic traits. However, despite a correlation, nothing indicates a causal relationship.

Dr. Assary suggested that a better understanding of the genetic basis of sensitivity could help identify predispositions to anxiety, depression, and autistic traits, enabling more targeted interventions. We might also consider what underpins our subjective judgement of well-being (feeling less happy, satisfied, hopeful, etc) and whether that is a story that we can shift in time.

Sensitivity and Overstimulation

I think there was then a short break in the presentations at this point. But it must have been brief because the next session had already begun when I returned from the toilet ordering more bananas.

We then had three five-minute flash talks. The first was delivered by Dr Sofie Weyn, who looked at HSP overstimulation and how it fluctuates during the day and across different contexts.

The diary study got participants to gauge and record levels of overstimulation, environment, moods, fatigue, and pleasantness of stimuli in the environment (sounds, sights, smells, tastes, touches) throughout the day.

Sofie found that overstimulation fluctuated throughout the day for everyone regardless of sensitivity, with the highest levels between 5 and 6 p.m. Overstimulation decreased later in the evening. There was an increase across the board in public spaces, especially when other people, negative moods, and fatigue were reported. Overstimulation also increased with reports of unpleasant sounds, lights, smells, tastes, and touches.

Overstimulation was significantly higher for highly sensitive individuals when their fatigue level rose. However, overstimulation decreased when they reported higher levels of pleasant sounds, visual stimuli, and positive moods. This shift was much more prevalent for more sensitive than less sensitive individuals, consistent with the theory that HSPs are more significantly impacted by positive and negative environmental stimuli.

These findings reinforce the need for awareness of variations in overstimulation and to work WITH those fluctuations rather than fighting against them. Focusing on rest and sleep quality can mitigate fatigue, increasing pleasant auditory and visual stimuli through music and ambient lighting in environments we can control and noise-cancelling headphones, dampened lighting, or tinted glasses in conditions we can’t change.

Attentional Capture and Sensitivity

Robert Marhenke from the University of Innsbruck gave the second flash talk about Attentional Capture and Sensitivity. He introduced the concept of selective attention, which has been assumed to be lower in highly sensitive people. Why? Because, as we know, highly sensitive people process information more deeply, are more aware of subtle stimuli, are more easily overwhelmed and distracted by extraneous stimuli, and have a lower ability to filter out irrelevant information.

He explored this through two theories of attentional capture: the Bottom-Up Theory, where our attention is drawn to a stimulus based on its properties (e.g., bright colours or distinctive characteristics), and the Top-Down Theory, where our attention is directed by preconceived intentions, goals, or knowledge (e.g., something we know we want to find).

The study found that individuals high in SPS were not more easily distracted by striking elements in the Bottom-Up experiment. Results from the Top-Down experiment found that highly sensitive individuals were less biased by their own intentions and goals, so they were, in fact, better at ignoring distractions, even if they were similar to what they were looking for.

It might be surprising that HSPs are not more easily distracted by environmental stimuli. However, this aligns with the study Elaine and Art Aron highlighted, showing that cultural influences on perception impact sensitive individuals. So, even though HSPs are more affected by their environment, this doesn’t inhibit their ability to process and perceive it with a greater sense of objective discernment. Interesting!

Effects of Sensitivity and Childhood Family Conflict on Objective Stress Responding

Sophia Bibb then delivered her inaugural research talk as a first-year PhD student at Ohio State University. She shared her research into the Effects of Sensitivity and Childhood Family Conflict on Objective Stress Responding. Despite mixed results in recent studies, this was based on the previous assumption that stress affects highly sensitive people more than less sensitive individuals.

Sophia looked at the effect of different stress types on sensitive individuals. Predictable threats elicit a fear response (a time-locked reaction to a tangible stressor), and unpredictable threats cause anxiety (an anticipatory state of chronic arousal).

The research examined the relationship between SPS, childhood family conflict, and objective stress response. It found a correlation between high family conflict in childhood and increased reactivity to unpredictable threats later in life. However, it showed no relationship between SPS and reactivity to unpredictable threats for those who didn’t experience family conflict growing up. This suggests that SPS alone doesn’t equate to greater anxiety. Interestingly, individuals low in SPS who experienced family conflict showed lower reactivity to unpredictable threats than those who hadn’t.

Sophia concluded from this research that HSPs are not inherently more biologically reactive to stress. Also, HSPs may experience greater sensitisation to childhood stress, particularly to sustained, unpredictable stressors. This is consistent with the Diathesis-Stress Component, which indicates that greater reactivity in a sensitive individual is contingent on early sensitisation events like high family conflict. Understanding the interaction between SPS and biological stress reactivity can inform approaches to psychopathology and interventions for HSPs.

Measurements of Sensitivity

The three-hour conference concluded with a panel discussion about measuring sensitivity. I’ll admit, by this point in the live event, my brain was frazzled, and I couldn’t process anything. I was beyond the banana, so I was grateful to have a recording to go back and watch later.

The panel explored the strengths and limitations of how sensitivity is currently observed, measured, and applied in research and practice.

Elaine Aron reiterated the centrality of depth of processing to high sensitivity and how challenging it can be to observe and measure. Veronique de Gucht pointed out that very few people would choose to answer a question in a way that sounds like they have no depth. In such a case, respondents are likelier to answer questions based on what is socially desirable rather than true.

The Negative Effects of High Sensitivity

Elaine laments the negative flavour of the original HSP Scale, which was developed through exploratory processes rather than being built on the foundations of an initial theory with well-established definitions. If she could go back and start again with the initial scale, she would emphasise the depth of processing more and focus less on overstimulation. But I would love her to cut herself some slack because she seemed pretty hard on herself about the whole thing. They did what they could with what they had at the time, and sensory processing sensitivity was a completely new, unexplored field to uncover and discover. This is how these things start and evolve. Imperfectly and in ways we later regret with the benefit of hindsight!

The six new scales provide a richer and more detailed understanding of different elements of sensitivity. They are emotional and physiological reactivity, sensory sensitivity, sensory comfort, sensory discomfort, social-affective sensitivity, and aesthetic sensitivity. These scales provide greater potential flexibility to future research and are already being integrated into collaborations with other fields of study unrelated to high sensitivity.

The panel also discussed the need for specialised training to understand the functional diagnosis of sensory processing sensitivity. In other words, we need to move away from what I heard described as “differential diagnosis,” which I believe means categorising high sensitivity as dysfunction (comparable to normative functioning) rather than a core biological function of an individual. This requires knowledge and acceptance of the core sensitivity traits in humans.

No Cut Offs

OK, I think we are there. So, let’s finish where we started and return to those three words, “no cut-offs” (I’m still not talking about denim shorts). While many individuals, as well as teachers and parents, might seek definitive answers (is this child HSP or not?), it’s not possible or even desirable to treat sensitivity in this way. Environmental factors complicate it, and careful consideration is needed regarding the potential harm an individual might face if the HSP label is labelled and used about them.

I felt heartened by this conference, especially after watching it back (several times) and starting to grasp what was being communicated. I hope we might see an increasing flow of discoveries related to sensory processing sensitivity across disciplines, fields, and backgrounds.

There are many elements I would love to explore, so I look forward to finding out where the research goes next. I still get most excited when highly sensitive people see themselves reflected in descriptions of the trait so they can begin the journey of growth in self-understanding, acceptance, and awareness and explore who they’ve always been in light of their sensitivity, not in opposition to it.

Watch The Video of My “Summary” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FkGsvdA3htw&