It’s your nervous system trying to keep you safe — & it impacts how you lead.
January has a very specific energy.
You’re back at your desk.
Laptop open.
Inbox filling up again.
And almost immediately, there’s a familiar internal push.
Okay. Time to get serious.
I need to hit the ground running.
I should tighten things up this year.
Be more disciplined.
Have a clearer plan.
Do this better than last year.
Even if nothing is technically wrong, there’s a sense that you can’t afford not to move with urgency.
So you start scanning.
You check Instagram more than usual — not to post, but to see what other people are doing.
You look at your offers and feel an urge to tweak, adjust, refine — not because something is broken, but because you want to feel certain that something will “hit”.
You start researching new ideas, new strategies, new possibilities — just in case the one you chose doesn’t work.
You make mental lists.
You set ambitious goals.
You quietly decide that this is the year you’ll finally be more focused, more consistent, more “on it.”
Underneath all of that is the same impulse:
If I do enough things, cover enough bases, stay alert enough… I’ll be safe.
That low-level urgency.
That sense of needing to hedge your bets.
That feeling that stillness would be irresponsible.
For a lot of people, this is just what January feels like.
But here’s what I’ve learned — in my own life, and after years of watching this pattern play out in businesses:
That urge isn’t coming from an aligned recommitment to your growth.
It’s coming from your nervous system.
A nervous system that’s learned safety comes from constant motion.
From fixing.
From staying one step ahead.
From not putting all your weight on one decision, one plan, *one direction, and instead, hedging your bets.
When your nervous system is dysregulated, it doesn’t matter how much you want alignment or sustainability.
You’ll still confuse anxiety with ambition.
Pressure with productivity.
Busyness with progress.
You’ll dig up your seeds to see if they’re growing — not because they aren’t, but because waiting feels unsafe.
A regulated business owner moves differently.
Not because they’re calmer by nature.
But because they can feel the urge to fix — and not immediately follow it.
They can notice the impulse to compare, to hedge, to add more — and remember why they chose less.
They can tolerate uncertainty without rushing to clarity just to relieve discomfort.
They trust the plan they’ve already committed to, even when old patterns try to pull them back into overdoing.
They can see the part of themselves that wants to scatter energy everywhere — and gently choose focus instead.
Not for the sake of doing less.
But because they know what they’re building — and why.
I know this moment intimately.
The steadiness I have access to now didn’t come from trying harder or becoming more disciplined.
It came from being challenged — and being willing to surrender instead of tightening my grip.
From letting old patterns fall away when they no longer fit.
From stopping the habit of using effort to manufacture safety.
It changed the lens through which I see everything:
- how I make business decisions
- how I relate to time
- how I respond to timelines
- how I move through uncertainty
Because the nervous system is always running the show — and no strategy will ever outgrow the level of safety your body has access to.
This year doesn’t need to start with urgency, pressure, or proving.
There is another way to enter it.
One rooted in regulation, trust and presence.
Simple, but not easy, I know.
But that’s the orientation I’m leading us into as a community this year.
No rushing.
No forcing.
Just a different relationship with how you lead — and how you grow.
As I said to a fellow business owner friend of mine over the break, you can’t hustle your way to freedom.
Not can you sprint your way into creating a Life-First Business.
The beauty in pursuing a Life-First Business is all that you get to shed in the journey of building one.
