When the warning light is on: diagnosing a problem we struggle to name
I've noticed something new appearing in my conversations with clients and friends alike. It's come up often enough to make me stop and think about it. People I know to be energetic, driven, and extremely positive are using words like "frustrated," "uncertain," "stuck,” and “finished”. They're talking about the kind of fatigue that sleep doesn't cure. They’re reflecting on a shift, something they can’t name, that is impacting their confidence and motivation. I feel it too.
Our usual vocabulary doesn't seem to feel quite right. This isn’t about resilience or wellbeing per se. Or at least it’s not only about these things.
It's like our engine light is on, but when we check, we can't find the problem.
There is a set of ‘usual suspects’. There's global uncertainty, political instability, economic unpredictability, and constant anxiety in a world that feels more volatile. There are more localised, practical realities like contracts taking longer to close (if at all), potential new clients hesitating or ghosting us, and projects stalling in ways they didn't a few months ago. It’s impacting our relationships, our sense of progress, and our ability to do great work.
While all of these things are true and important, I wonder if there is more to it. Some underlying tension that has been there for long enough that we don’t notice it anymore.
The uncertainty and shifting feel a bit like holding our breath, bracing for something we can’t identify. At first, it's deliberate, conscious. If we hold it long enough, our body adjusts in ways we don't notice. Our shoulders rise and jaws clench. Our system reorganizes to accommodate the holding. But now, as we try to exhale, it feels forced and unnatural. The relief we’re looking for won't come.
We've been in a constant state of readiness for change, which we know is coming but can’t necessarily identify. And here’s the irony: the people experiencing this are often the ones who are used to having the answers. Leaders. High-performers. Entrepreneurs. People who know instinctively how to diagnose problems and solve them. But this isn't something we can productivity-hack our way out of.
So how do we respond? I don't have an answer we can tie up with a bow. Frankly, I'm suspicious of anyone who says they do. It’s way more complex and personal than that. I do think there's value in sharing it and recognising we’re not alone.
Perhaps, instead of trying to muscle our way into a solution, we get curious with each other. Not in an intellectual ‘apply the framework’ way, but with a genuine interest in what it means for us individually and collectively as we work our way through it. What if we asked questions that nudged us to take a small step forward?
Whether we’re leading ourselves or leading others, we might ask questions like...
What's one conversation I've been avoiding because I don't have the answer yet?
What's the smallest thing I can do today that would feel like progress?
Who can I talk to honestly about what I'm experiencing, without needing them to fix it?
Where am I demanding clarity that doesn't exist yet?
When have I felt most like myself over the last month?
What does showing up as a good leader look like while I’m feeling like this?
These aren't rhetorical questions. They're invitations to seek progress in something small. The engine light is still on. We’re finding ways to progress together anyway.