You have understood this for long enough.
Two hours. Online. A small room of people who also cannot
answer the question everyone keeps asking them.
No slides. No advice. Nobody will ask you what you do.
2 hours · online · up to 20 places · A$120
Saturday 12 September, 11am Sydney
And you are living in the gap between them.
Maybe something took it from you. Maybe you walked away, and everyone called you brave. Maybe nothing happened at all, which is somehow the strangest of the three.
Different roads. Same country.
Because whichever one you took, you have started giving the same answer to the same question.
So, what's next for you?
And you have become very good at an answer that is reasonable, and not quite true.
You have known this for a year, maybe two. And knowing has not moved you.
That is not a failure of intelligence. You are one of the most capable people you know, and probably the most self aware person in your family.
If nothing visibly happened, there is nothing to point at. No card, no ritual, no casserole. Only a suspicion you have never said out loud: that you are not entitled to feel this way, because objectively your life is good.
If the role was taken from you, help arrived at once. Outplacement. A CV rewrite. Contacts. Everyone was kind, and every one of them was helping you back into a life you are quietly, guiltily relieved to have lost.
And if you chose this, the resignation, the gap year, the thing you are building, you were congratulated instead of held. How brave. So you cannot now admit that four months in you are frightened, and some mornings you miss it.
Three roads. One structure. In every case, you are being answered with a question you did not ask.
They asked you what you want.
That is the one question you cannot answer. It is the reason you came. So you sat there, being asked it in different phrasings by someone you were paying, and left feeling not unhelped but newly defective.
You did not fail. You cannot goal-set your way out of not knowing who you are.
For most of human history a passage like this was held. By a ritual. By a community. By an institution that knew what you were going through and made a place for it.
The company held a little of it. The career ladder held a little. The village held the rest.
Those containers are gone. The passages have multiplied.
You are not failing at this. You are attempting it without the one thing that has ever made it work.
A small room. Everyone in it has been giving reasonable answers to that question for a year.
You have been carrying this as though you were the only one. You are about to spend two hours with people who are also carrying it, who are also very good at their jobs, and who also cannot say what they want.
Nobody will ask you to perform it. Nobody will ask you to fix it. Nobody will ask what you do.
Make tea before we begin. You will want it.
We arrive. Slowly. We do not rush this part.
We say one true thing. Your first name, and the answer you have been giving people when they ask what is next. Nothing else. Ninety seconds, and it is usually the moment the room stops being a video call, because you will hear a room full of versions of your own reasonable, slightly untrue sentence. Some of you will laugh. Most will exhale.
Something to read, or a fragment of film. Enough to loosen the analysing mind, which has been running this for a long time and is very tired.
A short practice in the body. The body has been keeping an honest record while the mind has been making excuses.
Then one question. Not what do you want. Never that. You will answer it in writing, in silence, for nobody.
And then it will be read aloud in a room, anonymously, and heard.
I promise you one seeing. Not a plan, not a framework, not seven steps.
That is abstract, so:
Small. Irreversible. And you cannot get one by reading.
A few days later I will send you one note. Nothing to buy.
No. There is a practice in the body, and it is not spiritual and you do not have to believe in anything. Under pressure the analysing mind is very good at defending you from what you already know. The body is worse at lying. So we consult it, briefly, and move on.
If you go rigid at the words feel your feet, you are precisely who this is for. The resistance is not a disqualification. It is the thing itself.
You will not be asked to. Nobody will ask what you do.
There is one opening sentence, and it costs almost nothing. After that, nothing more is required. You will not be called on. You may keep your camera off, stay silent for two hours, and still have all of it, because the work happens inside you, not in the chat.
Almost nobody who books this feels ready. That feeling is not information about your readiness. It is the guard doing its job.
I am not going to teach you anything. My job is narrower and harder: to build a space steady enough that you can put something down in it.
I know how because I have been in the wilderness myself, and not briefly. Fifteen years of senior roles. A marriage. A sudden death. A country left behind. A long stretch in which I could not have told you who I was.
What I have since trained to do is hold that place for another person without flinching and without rushing them. In this room, that is the only qualification that matters.
Sylvia Xi Wang · MSc Coaching Psychology · the fuller story →
I have done this work in rooms for years, but not in this form and not at this price. You would be in the first room. That is why it costs A$120.
If you would rather wait until others have been through it and told you it was good, I understand, and October will still be here.
But somebody has to be in the first room. It may as well be someone who has waited long enough.
Eat lightly beforehand. We finish at lunchtime on purpose.
At A$120, money is not what you are risking, and we both know it.
Please do not come if you are in acute crisis. Seek therapeutic support first, and come back to this when you are steadier.
You do not have to decide anything about the rest of your life today.
Come and sit down. Bring the tea. Let something be true for two hours.
2 hours · online · up to 20 places · A$120
Saturday 12 September, 11am Sydney
Your bank statement will show THE ART OF TRANSITION.