As Matariki rises, I’m not chasing goals. I’m looking back.
This time of year invites reflection. Not just on what we’ve done, but on who we’ve become. For me, it’s been a year of steady shifts—physically, spiritually, and professionally. Not dramatic, but deep. I’ve unlearned some old habits and reclaimed what matters most.
There’s a whakataukī that has anchored my thinking:
Ka mua, ka muri
We walk backwards into the future.
We move forward carrying the wisdom of what has shaped us. So here’s what I’m carrying with me from the year just gone.
Physically: Building Strength by Slowing Down
I used to think progress meant pushing harder. Training longer. Outperforming yesterday. That worked—until it didn’t.
Now, I train with more presence than pressure. Morning swims and gentle jogs are part of my rhythm. I lift weights for balance and strength, not appearance. I hydrate early, eat with intention, and pay attention to what actually fuels me.
But the biggest shift has been internal. I’ve stopped glorifying exhaustion. I stretch. I sleep. I take time. I’ve come to see physical well-being not as a reward after work, but as the structure that allows me to do the work well.
If I want to lead with clarity and energy, it starts with how I lead myself.
Spiritually: Leading from the Inside Out
This year I’ve stopped looking for spiritual breakthroughs in the big moments. Instead, I’ve found something quieter and more sustaining.
I’ve returned to simple practices—silence, prayer, walking without distraction. Not as a task, but as a way home. I’ve come to trust that faith isn’t something I perform. It’s something I return to, over and over again.
I’ve found God in unexpected places too. In swimming laps. In the honesty of leaders letting go of burdens. In the slow exhale of a conversation that gets beneath the surface. Grace hasn’t shouted. It’s whispered.
In my research and teaching, I’ve been re-grounded in a theology of flourishing that includes the soul. Faith isn’t an add-on to leadership. It’s the source of it.
Spiritually, I’ve stopped striving. I’ve started returning.
Professionally: Flourishing is the New Frontier
This year has clarified something I’ve felt for a while: we can’t keep treating well-being as optional. Burnout isn’t a personal flaw. It’s a systemic signal.
I’ve become more committed to helping leaders name that truth and find healthier ways to lead. Not through heroic self-sacrifice, but through boundaries, rest, and alignment.
I’m not interested in ticking boxes. I want to provoke reflection and offer tools that help leaders reclaim their energy and purpose. That’s why I’ve leaned more into frameworks like Te Whare Tapa Whā, Catholic Social Teaching, and the Human Flourishing Program. They give language to what so many leaders are already feeling: the need to do meaningful work without losing themselves in the process.
I’ve said no more often this year. I’ve refined my offerings. Protect my energy. Not out of fear—but from a clearer sense of purpose.
Professionally, I feel more aligned than I’ve ever
Not every burden is mine to carry. Not every fight is mine to take on. But the work that matters? That’s worth showing up for, fully.
So as Matariki rises, I ask you:
What have you learnt? What are you ready to let go of? And what is calling you forward now?
Let this be a season of renewal, reflection, and courageous clarity.