When my brain is too full …

Mid-December is a time when I sometimes feel as though my brain is teetering on the brink of being over-full; while I know that this is biologically unlikely, there are moments when the sheer weight of pre-Christmas actions and decisions can bring the illusion of an organ on the cusp of overflow. To be honest, it is not an unpleasant sensation; I find that my senses are sharpened, and the anticipation of a potential breaking of the dam walls can be surprisingly exhilarating … but then, that is because over the years I have learned to saddle up, steady myself, and be ready for the ride.

I can still get caught off guard, temporarily, just as I did when I was a Head, particularly when I encounter unexpected unboundaried behaviour from others that brings a sharp flash of disappointment. I have learned, however, to recognise that thoughtlessness is often a signal of someone who is off-balance themselves; as a result, I now find it easier to climb back on to my perch more quickly than in the past, grounded in the knowledge that it is my responsibility to respond with empathy and understanding.

What really makes this possible, I have realised over the past decade, is the practice of releasing the pent-up thoughts and ideas in my head, and allowing them to turn into a flood of utter gratitude – gratitude as a powerful, galloping wave that bursts free from mind and heart, spilling into the world around me, soaking into the words on the paper in front of me, and into the cracks of everyday existence. This is gratitude that honours the people and moments of the recent past, stirs energy and excitement for the new calendar year ahead, and yet still luxuriates fully in the present moment.

So – here is a glimpse into my mid-December flood of gratitude … not quite a stream of consciousness, but almost! I am resolutely grateful for …

Early-morning coaching sessions, when the world is hushed, and insights and questions grow organically, with powerful intent.

The deep satisfaction of watching a well-facilitated conversation change its temperature; not dramatically, but just enough to allow creative thinking to breathe again.

The joy of a beautifully phrased sentence in a draft report, where thought, rhythm, and purpose align.

Airports – those liminal spaces where endings and beginnings brush past one another without ceremony.

The steady companionship of colleagues and collaborators who understand the work, without needing it to be explained.

A good cup of Japanese green tea, drunk slowly, when there is nowhere else I am supposed to be.

The privilege of being trusted with other people’s stories, ambitions, anxieties, and half-formed hopes.

Laughter around a table – laughter that has nothing to do with productivity, outcomes, or next steps, but which rather bubbles up into pure joy.

The persistent courage of school leaders trying to do the right thing in a world that rewards speed over thoughtfulness.

A brisk walk in the fresh air that untangles a complicated situation and translates it into pragmatic solutions.

The discipline of writing itself; not as performance, but as a way of finding out what I actually think.

Moments of disagreement – opportunity – that are handled with generosity, and leave everyone a little wiser and connected, rather than diminished.

The humbling reminder, again and again, that leadership is not about having the answers, but about creating the conditions in which better questions can be asked.

Hugs with my children – the kind when you do not want to let go, and don’t have to.

And the fact that my parents are still alive and that I enjoy spending time with them.

The sense, as the year edges towards its close, that my work still matters – and that it is possible to do it with both seriousness and joy.

And so … if you are on your knees in this mid-December, then my best advice is to take a breath, pause for a moment, saddle up, and let the white horses of gratitude loose. And enjoy the ride!

Onwards and upwards!!