Last Sunday I found my way in the Lake District.

As someone who is not renowned for their sense of direction - and has often got lost when navigating solo - this is a relatively big deal for me!

The day before we had climbed Hallin Fell as a group, then Stu and I took the long way back - a beautiful loop alongside Ullswater.

The next day it was just me and the dog.

I wasn’t 100% sure I could find my way - but I really wanted to.

The last few weeks have been full of my favourite things - people and their career timelines.

I love collaborating with someone to look back and learn from their journey so far - to make sense of it and use the insights to shape the path ahead.

It’s a complete gift to be a part of the process. To see and hear someone’s story. To find the themes, the patterns, the ups and the downs. To spot the threads and create a compass to navigate forward with.

But what strikes me more and more is just how much there is to learn before we even start exploring the detail.

I love spring.

The cherry blossom is starting to come out in our road, and the clocks have changed.

I love the lighter evenings, the longer days, the warmth and the sunshine.

It’s a new season, the start of a new cycle, the opportunity to reflect and reset.

So what do I want it to be about?

Every couple of months or so I meet with Claire Pedrick for a 1:1 supervision session.

It’s a complete gift of an experience where we unpack and untangle the mushed-up things in my head.

I love it.

I love fitting pieces together to create a picture - in all areas of life.

It’s such a joy to make sense of things and see how they come together, to join the dots, to see the clarity emerge and the wood for the trees.

I know now that taking time at the beginning to sort through the pieces is an important part of the process.

In a puzzle that’s finding the edges, grouping obvious colours, gathering things to build around. And it’s a pretty similar process in other situations too.

I know how useful it is, and I am always, always tempted to skip it, because I’m impatient to get going and want to be onto the satisfying part!

My sister recently reminded me of the time I spent 2 months living in a tent in the middle of Hungary, part of a group from Edinburgh University helping to build an eco-village.

For many years it was top of mind - my immediate answer to the ‘tell us something we wouldn’t know about you’ question.

And yet I had almost forgotten.

Many years ago (almost 30 - eek!) I did a History degree. Not the most obvious first step to a career in marketing, consulting and coaching, but what I really wanted to study.

I loved my teachers at A level and connecting the dots between the past, the present and the future. I loved the stories, the cycles, the learnings, the repeating patterns. I loved finding the thread and making sense of the journey.

I still do.

Every December I pause and gather the threads of my year.

It’s a lovely ritual, and I’m noticing I start earlier and earlier - maybe because the rush of Christmas can quickly give way to ‘back to work’, or because it feels so dark so early, or simply because it’s a nice thing to do.

It’s absolutely not about looking ahead yet, or creating goals or resolutions - it’s about looking back to see the journey.

In previous years I’ve focused a lot on finding the story of it - looking fully at the ups, the downs, the learning, the insights, the implications.

This year I’m appreciating how powerful it is to simply look back and see what happened, from the start to right now.

So much happens each day, but it’s easy to lose track of how it all adds up when we’re in it.

When I look back at my career timeline it looks seamless.

I’ve transitioned between different companies, industries, roles, labels, ways of working - and I can clearly see the thread that links them.

At the time? At each of those crossroads? Not so much!

At each of those points I was full of confusion. It’s a tricky time. Knowing that something has come to an end, but not what will start up next.

What I did know was what I didn’t want.

I love this picture.

It represents the fun of being up high, the joy of early dog ownership, the beauty of seeing the landscape spread out down below.

It was taken on holiday in West Wales back in 2018. Freddie and I are at the top of Mwnt, while my husband and children are on the beach down below.

They were happy doing, and I was happy being and seeing them.

Seeing our lives from above like this can be both calming and grounding. Things really do look different, and feel different, when we look down on our lives rather than being in them.

It gives us a moment to pause, to see the bigger picture, to put things in context.