Lovers. Bedfellows
In the releasing, a revealing.
Melbourne. 18th July 2016.
An ending.
Contracts signed buying me out of FreeState, my last company, and buying my then business partner into a new relationship, new adventure.
As clean as the markings on a clean contract, was this really the ending?
24th September 2025.
A beginning.
Likewise, as clear as an entry in a diary, a line in the sand, was this the beginning?
Endings and beginnings are intimately related. Their entanglements largely unseen. Hidden from public view. Quietly, fearfully dependent on each other. Lovers. Bedfellows.
Like the above, there are 3,357 days between the above but in intimate dance they are.
Some endings unfold, unravel slowly.
Did the company end then or was the work in train for days, weeks, years before? Maybe ten years. I've written about this here.
Likewise, did the group begin then or can the seed be traced back days, weeks, years before?
Each ending and beginning follows its own rhythm. For me, in the above, decades and a lifetime in play. Signing the documents signaled the end of an Act One, life defined by external measures, a company success. All effort and endeavour. Ben making a Ben stamp on the world.
Beginning the group a marker of an Act Two. Work rooted more in spirit, in service of something larger than me. Creative. Connected.
In the doing of this work now, I am more day by day, more responsive and less reactionary, more guided by an internal compass than external measures. Whilst not bullet proof, this anchors towards a steadiness.
In this series of writing I asked a question.
What does the changing tide ask of you?
And last time another question in service of that. In the releasing, there is a revealing. And in this, an invitation to the theme of this week: creating.
In the above big arc of a work ending so the seed for creating was at play. And whilst thousands of days between them, in some ways the seed of the second needed the ending of the first to grow. In the releasing there was revealing. And in the revealing, creating.
This plays out in big arcs. Like those above. But also moment by moment. With each subtle holding on, we suffocate.
Hold on to a habitual reaction, the avoiding of a difficult conversation or whatever and we suffocate the creativity from what comes next. Life unfolds with a little less life.
I am scared of rejection. Of being excluded or left out. This a habitual response. An old pattern happy to replay on repeat. A mind and consciousness looking for the cue, to play out a standard response. Make them like me harder. This alone suffocating - not least to the object, the person, of the effort. But also to what comes next. Or doesn't.
This turns up in work, obviously.
Like sitting with someone who I know is itching with their own Act I - Act II struggle. Their old world, as successful as it looks, increasingly flattening, drifting. This is who LeanMind is for. Their own wanting to be sure manifesting in withdrawing slightly, pulling away from me and our conversation. In this, the trigger. I lean in. Make them like me harder. That I'm stuck in a life or death pursuit. Ah, caught, a lunging energy rising up from my belly, tight through my throat, pinching my jaw tight.
In blindly playing out the same response, there is no releasing.
This tidal too in its own way.
And what does the changing tide ask of you?
An appropriate response. That's what.
Not a blind replaying of old ideas. Not the habitual response. But a wakefulness. An awareness perhaps that the big tides are moving. That old you is done. And a new is itching to birth. Your acorn is ready to grow, to shape and inform how you lead. Maybe even what you do.
Or maybe simpler, more immediate. That the old standardised response is no longer adequate.
When the old habits and patterns are caught, like mine above, the fear of being left out, so the opportunity for a different right response.
Not one of fear. Of working harder. Of making them like me more. Instead, a pause. A release. And in this, a creativity.
For me, catch it. Don't offer more. Or wade in with another reply. Another deal sweetener. That the stuff of suffocating. Instead, be quiet. Resist the urge, as visceral as it feels in the body - to persuade, cajole. Create space. Let them step in when they feel safe and ready.
My work now is an act of love. Less proving. More alive, awake, deep in the belly. Open to what you need and helping you get there.
And even in that, i feel the sharp pull of judgement and doubt. Resist I will.
Will you?
A small request.
I’d like your help.
If you know one person who would like to read this, would you share it with them?
Thank you.
They’re welcome to sign up here to follow this series along too, if they’d like.