Over the past few months, I’ve often heard the phrase: “Everything happens for a reason.” It’s usually meant as comfort when life feels unsettled, and looking back we can often trace unplanned change to new opportunities or growth.
But the phrase also implies that upheaval has a neat, hidden purpose — as though a greater force is scripting life for us. That can be a sustaining belief, but I think we need to go further if we’re to have agency and build real resilience. For me, the more powerful question is: “What am I being invited to see, to learn, or to choose?”
Change, upheaval, and opportunity
That question feels especially relevant right now. In one week, I’ve faced a house move, an office move, my husband’s retirement on health grounds, and upcoming surgery. Some of this change is enforced, much of it unexpected, but not all of it negative. These endings and beginnings have sounded the “everything happens for a reason” alarm, urging me to consider what opportunities might be opening.
I’m trying to press pause, to listen, and to ask: “Where is the opportunity here?” It feels as though the Universe, having whispered for a while, has started to shout — urging me not just to adapt but to make deliberate choices aligned with what matters most.
Listening, letting go, and thinking differently
When I step back, the work that grounds me is clear. Whether I’m coaching or leading my Parkinson’s choir with Aureole Music, I emerge energised and joyful. My deepest satisfaction comes from helping others get unstuck — whether regaining a singing voice, reconnecting with values, or simply finding courage to take up space in their community.
It’s all the same work: creating conditions for people to hear themselves more clearly and move forward. Sometimes it’s about their literal voice. More often, it’s their metaphorical one.
Ancient philosophy also helps me navigate change. Taoist and yogic traditions remind us of non-attachment, of loosening our grip and finding flow. In yoga, the aim is not clever shapes, but to “still the fluctuations of the mind.” That calmness doesn’t cancel ambition, but makes room for alignment, truth, and clarity.
Leaving and arriving
So back to my story. I’ll miss our home in Gorey, the rhythm of village life, the chats and chance encounters. But new rhythms will emerge, with more space, Le Hocq beach nearby, close friends around, and life shared with my newly retired husband. That should be wonderful… or we’ll see!
Silence and space
If we stop at “everything happens for a reason,” we risk missing the deeper work of listening, discerning, and choosing. This enforced pause has sharpened my own flexibility and given me fresh insight into coaching, as I’ve leaned on the very tools I share with clients.
When we create space to think, we see more clearly which collaborations feel authentic, which directions energise us, and which relationships hold truth. For me, that means the beginning of a podcast (watch this space!), new collaborations, and a sharper focus on the work I most love.
Aureole Music, our charity, is flourishing, bringing joy to care homes and people living with Parkinson’s. It remains central to my work and purpose. Other things have had to pause — not because they lack joy, but because time and focus are finite.
And this, to cut to the chase, is the gift of coaching: it offers the chance to pause, to ask the deeper questions. What might I let go of? What matters now? What do I want to create next? Am I brave enough to make it happen?
That’s where meaning and joy lie. In the choices we make when we give ourselves the space to listen.
