In a world that values speed, control and productivity at any cost, we sometimes need to remind ourselves that real strength can emerge from calm and presence, rather than constant haste.
Here, I share a passage from my book: an invitation to reconsider our relationship with work, with time and with ourselves. The book is available in French only.
When we work, our minds can be full of everything we need to do that day, everything we have fallen behind on, and the personal worries that occupy our thoughts. There can be so much going on in our heads that we no longer know where to turn. At times, we may even feel we are losing our heads altogether.
We wait for an imagined future in which every task will be completed and we will finally be at peace. When all our attention rests on a goal to be achieved later, we can create tension within ourselves. Projecting ourselves into the future in this way leaves us dissatisfied with the present. Something seems to be missing; something remains unfinished.
If we keep feeding that sense of lack — “I’m overwhelmed; I don’t have time” — we can find ourselves caught in an endless, headlong race against ourselves. Even with the best intentions, we cannot always meet every external demand, let alone every expectation we place on ourselves. Eventually, we may come to recognise the need to treat ourselves with kindness and accept that we will not always deliver or complete a task on time.
Our relationship with time is part of the difficulty. We do not take the time to do things and be fully present while doing them. Our minds are elsewhere, thinking about other matters. When our thoughts race, it becomes harder to bring our full attention to the task in front of us.
We may even try to work on several things at once, assuming that we can multitask and still give each task our best. This way of working can demand more effort to stay focused and add to the pressure, particularly when we are already running late.
Letting go of the pursuit means loosening our need to control everything — especially time itself.
It means being in the present, welcoming what is, and bringing our attention to what we are doing while continuing to listen inwardly: to the quiet within us, to the heart.
In that state, we can feel more fully ourselves, in closer contact with who we are. To use the language of my book, we allow our own light to shine. Stress may loosen its grip as we stop continually feeding the feeling that we lack time or love. Our capacities can have more room to emerge in the present, without the same sense of strain. From this perspective, working effectively and productively can grow out of presence rather than pressure.
When our thoughts begin to race, it matters to slow down again: to pause, return to ourselves, return to our centre, and then resume our activities. Constantly chasing a goal can exhaust us. Finding value in each moment along the way can sustain us.
Paradoxically, I see performance as something that can emerge from calm, stillness and clarity, rather than from a mind kept in a constant state of agitation.
Meditation, yoga, tai chi, qi gong, martial arts, walking in nature, painting, sculpture, music and many other forms of creative practice can offer ways of returning to that quieter state. Some organisations make room for such activities during the working day.
Some organisations explore a broader change: moving away from the relentless pursuit of turnover and profit, and giving greater importance to the human experience of work.
In the vision I describe here, turnover and profit become outcomes of a flourishing organisation, rather than its sole purpose. People have room to find fulfilment and contribute fully because they believe in the organisation’s evolving purpose and listen to what it calls for. They take responsibility for roles they have chosen, which can strengthen their sense of belonging and self-worth.
Organisations described as liberated, holacratic or teal explore different forms of this shift. The growth associated with some of these approaches can appear striking — as though they have discovered a rich seam of possibility. That does not mean any organisational model guarantees growth. What interests me is the change in perspective: placing people back at the centre calls for an inner transformation throughout the organisation, from its foundations to its leadership.
Here are some directions for change:
These ways of working seek to support growth, productivity, enthusiasm and motivation. In the language of my book, I describe a balance between “masculine” and “feminine” energies: the drive to act and develop, held in balance by intuition, calm, creativity, listening and patience. I use these terms as a symbolic way of describing complementary qualities, rather than as qualities belonging to one gender or another.
In this vision, colleagues can form more humane, considerate relationships, meeting one another as equals. They have more space to be fully themselves and to develop what they can contribute.
This passage from my book expresses a human-centred, conscious vision of work, performance and organisations: one in which who we are has its rightful place at the heart of what we do.
If this reflection resonates with you, I invite you to explore the book Être à sa place. The book is available in French only.
This reflection on performance and the place of people at work also echoes the Être à sa place method, which I developed as an extension of my book. It invites us to return to our centre, reconnect with our inner compass, and make choices and take action with discernment, in both our personal and professional lives.
Return to your centre. Make conscious choices. Take action in alignment with who you are.