At the end of my first college semester, just after my last final, I spiked a fever. High enough it scared me.
It happened again the next semester. Alarming, but now familiar.
By the third time, I understood. This was my body, waiting to cross the finish line — and then just saying ENOUGH. There was no room to negotiate. It was done.
This was when I learned our bodies and spirits have limits. We hit walls. Sometimes face-first and hard. And if we try to look away, that wall will find a way to confront us.
This is playing out in workplaces right now. Only there’s no finish line. Just wave after wave of change — layoffs, reorgs, shifting strategies, budget cuts. And teams are expected to keep on trucking.
Here’s what most leaders are doing in response: acting like everything’s fine. Maybe offering a quick thank you, a surface-level nod to the effort, and moving on.
And our teams may not be stalling. But they’re splintering.
They’re burning energy managing anxiety, chasing shifting priorities, and trying to make sense of decisions they don’t understand. They’re working in silos without trusted collaborators. They’re losing steam, and they’re losing trust. And without a moment to pause and reset, they’re disconnecting from each other, from the mission, from their best thinking.
I talk to leaders every day who see this. But they look away, citing two specific fears:
- That starting a dialog will open a can of worms and turn into a b*tch-fest
- That asking their teams what they need will yield a list of asks they simply can’t honor or meet
These fears are fair. But totally addressable. And this is what I help leaders do. Because the cost of looking away — of inaction — are high.
So what does a reset actually look like?
Well it’s not trust falls. It’s a structured, intentional block of time that begins with a clear purpose and ends in an action plan.
It gives people space to reflect on what’s changed, how they’re experiencing it, what they might wish could be different (but is probably out of our control or above our pay grade), and then — critically — what within our locus of control would move us one step closer to that wished-for state.
I’ve run more than a dozen sessions this past quarter, and the diversity of ideas to implement — and the number of deep breaths taken — has been encouraging and validating.
I’d love to run a session for your team, but if you’re up for DIY-ing it here are some pointers to consider:
❤️ Open with honesty. “A lot has shifted — and it hasn’t been easy. Let’s name what’s real, so we can move forward with clarity.” The more we try to look away or pretend things are fine, the more trust we lose with them. So be honest – not helpless or hopeless. But honest.
⏰ Timebox the venting. Ask: “What’s felt harder lately? What’s created friction or confusion?” Set a timer and let people share without turning the meeting into a spiral. Don’t defend or explain. Just hear them. And if things start to feel like they’re spinning out, simply redirect. “I know things have been painful, but I’d love to hit the pause button. Let’s make sure we save time for solutions and changes to help us turn things around.”
🏙️ Then look to build. “Let’s consider what we wish were true. And then focus on our locus of control. What’s the first step we can take?” Maybe they wish they had a budget for productivity tools. And the truth is, not now. But can you brainstorm small ways to simplify process, to use AI in new ways, to reinvent a way of doing something that’s been carrying drag? Even just the act of paying attention to their needs can infuse some new energy into the system.
🎬 Follow up with action. Capture what you’ve heard. Build a list of experiments, and run them one by one. Be true to your word. And celebrate even the tiniest victories as you see them.
This isn’t about solving everything but making moves in a better direction. It’s about signaling that you’re listening, and that you’re willing to take action where you can.
Because the cost of doing nothing is higher than you realize. All the energy they spend on managing anxiety is energy not spent on creating, experimenting and learning. The disconnection they feel leads to duplicated effort. Missed opportunities. Flat collaboration.
But when you make room to reset, even briefly, people re-engage. They reconnect to each other, to the work, and to what’s possible. It clears fog. It builds trust. And it gets energy flowing again.
If you want help facilitating something like this — I do that. But whether I’m in the room or not, this is a moment leaders can’t afford to ignore.
Your team doesn’t need a miracle.
They need a minute. And a leader who knows how to use it.