‘Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should…’
Have you heard this before?

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found myself uttering this statement to myself more than a few times; however — WOW — just recently I’ve been in the weeds with all that it reveals about my people-pleasing, ‘just want to be helpful’/looking-for-external-validation scars.

This year, I’ve made genuine moves into the research and creative process for my first book. I’ve dug into the interviews I did with women who generously shared the stories around when life took an unexpected turn, and my notebook is filling with thoughts, ideas to explore, and questions to research.

Not only that, but having it as a new purpose has helped me finalise my previous dancing-class spaces, and I now have quite the writing loft to retreat into.

For all of those forward moves, though, I’ve been noticing something about myself that keeps rearing its ugly head.
How quickly I seem to move toward the things I can do rather than things that are new or unknown… particularly when the new things need me to be slower, when I feel less certain, or are harder to explain to friends and family in day-to-day conversation.

I don’t know if that’s just me…

When saying yes feels automatic

Back in February, I inadvertently ended up building a social media page for a lovely lady I know who was running in our March state parliamentary elections. On top of building the page, there came the strategy for the 4–5 weeks of her campaign, and the next minute, there were jokes about me acting as her proxy campaign manager.

I say inadvertently because I don’t really know how it happened so quickly. One minute, there was a random text invitation to catch up at her home, and the next minute, we were communicating 4–5 times per day about edits, reviews, and next steps.

Out of nowhere, I had 15–20 hours in my week dedicated to social media strategy that I didn’t know I had spare — and of course, it came at the expense of my book and personal creative process.

To compound matters, as the election approached, with glowing praise about the success of the social media campaign, I received an invitation to meet with a local business to see if I could assist them with their socials strategy. It was even a paid job, I was told.

Within a few days, I was sitting with a legitimate working opportunity presenting itself, lovely people whose hearts and vision were aligned with similar values to mine, and the ball was in my court as to how I could help them.

This train was leaving the station very quickly, and I was still catching up with how I had even got aboard.

I came home from meeting the business owner and went straight into writing a proposal — I wasn’t going to let this take over my life completely, and I had clear ideas about how I was going to keep it contained while still honouring my book, as well as of course Isla’s homeschooling and the importance of our family life altogether.

(Easy, right?!)

Meeting the business owner had been lovely, and I felt like we really connected with similar views of strategy and opportunities to improve their online footprint in ways that felt easily within my wheelhouse.

In some ways, this was a dream opportunity for work that I could do comfortably, that fitted into my life at my flexibility and discretion, and a handy income stream that would help my family.

Why is it so hard to say no?

I wrote that proposal in the first 24 hours after our meeting, but nearly 3 weeks later, I still hadn’t sent it in.

The self-sabotage story felt very real, because it was on both sides of the blade I seemed to be injuring myself with.

Was I sabotaging myself by not sending in the proposal, even though I knew there was a real need and I could definitely help?

Or was I sabotaging myself because my book notes would have to be put aside for another month or two, after which I would definitely get back to it (or so I was telling myself).

Ohhh, this has been really challenging for me.

I’ve been playing with a simple idea that when something comes up — a decision, an opportunity, even just a moment of resistance — I picture a leaf floating along on a stream.

Not forcing where it goes. Not trying to control the path. Just noticing what’s already there, and asking myself what it might look like to move with that, rather than immediately stepping in with where I ‘think’ it should go.

And, let me tell you, this whole situation did NOT feel like a floating leaf.

It felt like I had done that thing I always do. There was someone with a need, I had skills to help, and then I just kept going because the ball was rolling down the hill and I couldn’t stop it.

I’ll be honest with you. I am really uncomfortable letting myself be in my creative book-writing space this year. Planning and prioritising time to just sit, listen, think, and imagine runs so hard against my training as an engineer, and more than 14 years in a production environment all about efficiency, waste, and optimisation.

I know I have a really valuable topic to explore, and I know the raw ingredients of the interviews I’ve had with so many fabulous women have the potential to be something really special for others to contemplate for themselves. Yet… slowing my life enough — and prioritising the process so it reveals itself — has been a real challenge with the distracting allure of praise, appreciation, short-term contribution, and money.

I felt like a guilty teenager when the business owner sent me a lovely text more than two weeks after we met to follow up my proposal… and then worse when she was also really gracious about the delay in my reply, appreciative of any help I could provide.

It took a lot for me to admit to myself that the reason I had been procrastinating with sending in the proposal was I simply didn’t want to do this work.

The pull of what you can do

And what I was also starting to see was that no one was going to stop that ball rolling down the hill but me.

Not the business owner (who was incredibly kind and gracious).
Not the opportunity itself.
Not even the fact that I thought I could do it well, and still try to squeeze some book-writing time around it.

If anything, all of that was gently pulling me in the opposite direction.

The only place that boundary was ever going to come from… was me.

‘Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should…’

Giving myself permission to live this statement has taken a lot of reflection, discussion, admission, and even guidance counselling from ChatGPT!

When a friend said to me, “do you actually want to write that book, or not?” it felt like a cold bucket of water snapping me back to reality.

It is really hard to say no.

It is really hard not to help someone when you know you can.

Walking away from money can be hard too.

And sitting with something that has no clear form yet — or may not even be any good when it is finished — feels like a very different kind of challenge altogether.

Especially when I can’t quite explain why it matters to me.

With all of my other hats on, there’s a part of me that still wants a clear, tangible reason I can point to… something that makes it make sense.

And I don’t really have that here.

Which makes it very easy to reach for the things that are useful, valuable to others, and familiar… particularly when something else in my life is a new path I haven’t walked before.

And how quickly that can pull me away from the very thing I say matters.

Oh, the challenges of running my own Matters Experiment!

If this feels familiar, I write about these kinds of moments in my weekly email. You’re welcome to join me there and see what your own Matters Experiment might look like. Scroll down for an opportunity to connect.

It happens gradually. The calendar fills… A few extra commitments slide in… We say yes without thinking too much about it, and before long we start telling ourselves that the mantra “I don’t have time” is simply what real life feels like.

This piece explores what actually happens in that moment — and whether the spiral is as inevitable as it seems.

Ohh, I’m going to come out and say this very clearly — working on your own Matters Experiment can be H-A-R-D.

I had a great ‘off the grid’ break from most of my normal life commitments through January. I started the year with solid exercise habits, a regular practice of some quiet time first thing each morning, and intentional hours writing in my lovely loft.

And now February is here… and we are nearly half way through the month already!

Things are starting to fill my calendar again and I’ve been deep in the work of trying to keep what is important to me front and centre on my to-do list…

My daughter Isla and I stepped into our seventh year of homeschooling two weeks ago (seven years… THAT is another whole story), and all of her extra-curricular activities are back. My husband Adam’s work calendar is filling with business trips over the next few months.

I’ve watched my days begin to evaporate again — including all of those unlistable activities — mum-taxi, forms, apps, account logins, password resets for every online platform that comes with schooling, dance studios and sporting clubs.

Less time with those I love… Bedtimes sneaking later… My resistance to getting up early for exercise or quiet time is growing stronger. And the inner voice whispering, “Oh, but you made such a good start to the year…” leaving me tired and irritable.

I’m also supporting my parents through a house move, and I’m involved in a number of groups and committees where I lend support and perspective — everything from a parent’s responsibility when they put their hand up to run a homeschooling event, through to a judge’s perspective on the first step of the Scottish Highland Fling!

A large part of my day is once again about keeping our collective family ball rolling — all on top of my work here at The Matters Experiment, and the book I’ve started to write.

“It Doesn’t Work in Real Life”

Last year, when I launched the first round of Live Like You Matter (Just for a Week!), one participant said something I haven’t forgotten:

“Lisa, it was a lovely few days… but it doesn’t work in real life, does it? Who has got time for that, really? I don’t have time for that.”

That comment has been rattling around in my head ever since.

Because this — this season of logistics and responsibility and things crowding in — is real life.

And I don’t want to be here promoting a fair-weather idea. I’m not interested in something that only works when we are on holidays or when everything else is calm and under control — because when is that, exactly?

The Matters Experiment has to work in the middle of it all.

These last few weeks I’m being reminded how easy it is to say Yes. Yes! Oh, yes to that too!

And it doesn’t take long before we are short-tempered with the people we love, stressed, hurrying from one thing to the next, and quietly resentful when others don’t seem to be struggling to hold it all together like we are.

I had a January where I really felt like myself.

And now I don’t want to quietly slip back into being the woman who holds everything together on the outside but slowly forgets that she matters in it all, too.

Catching the Automatic Yes

So this week, I’ve come back to a slightly uncomfortable Matters Experiment question for myself:

If I’m feeling stretched again, do I really think that’s because this doesn’t work in ‘real’ life?

It may be because I’ve slipped back into saying yes the way I used to — before I stopped to notice what I actually need, and what really works for those I love.

Instead of debating whether this works in real life, I decided to test it in the middle of real life.

Each day this week, to answer this question, I’ve been catching myself in the moment before I agree to something.

Before I automatically step in.

Before I absorb one more responsibility because it’s easier than explaining why I don’t want to.

Instead of letting the year build to the point where it all gets too much and I want to blow everything up, I’ve just been adjusting one small thing at a time.

Lowering an expectation that I realise is too high.

Delaying something that I can see really isn’t that urgent or important.

Letting one “yes” become a “not this time.”

Nothing huge or dramatic… but it feels a little radical!

Like I’m finding my way back to the year I actually want to be having… and that feels like right direction.

If this resonated, each week I share one small, practical experiment you can try in your own life — around things like time, boundaries, identity, or decisions.
It arrives as a free weekly email.

You’re very welcome to sign up if you’d like!  You can do that below.  

“The truth is, I don’t know what I would do with a whole day to myself. Read, maybe?
I don’t know exactly, but I’m not sure what else to say…”

I nodded along in recognition – there’s something strangely bonding in that shared realisation so many women reach, because suddenly you realise it isn’t just you.
It’s the kind of connection that comes after years of being capable, responsible, endlessly busy, and not stopping to think about anything else – certainly not yourself.

I remember an international trip I took with two friends back in 2019.
I’d been invited to adjudicate the World Highland Dancing Championships in Scotland, and on a whim, I asked them to come with me.

Excited plans were made, and I’ll never forget the giddy smiles as we tucked blankets across our laps, clicked seatbelts closed, and put our headphones on for the first leg of our overseas flights.

For that week, it would be just us – no kids, no partners, no work, no commitments apart from me needing to be in Dunoon in five days’ time.
Twenty hours of travel stretched in front of us.
We could do, or not do, anything we wanted.

Twenty-five minutes later, still smiling when we caught each other’s eye, we realised none of us had yet picked a movie.
We were like kids in a lolly shop – scrolling through all the films we’d missed, the ones we hadn’t had time to see.

I saw plenty I knew my husband would love, and others my daughter had on her “to watch” list…
but I had no idea what I wanted to watch.

Almost paralysed by choice, we found ourselves sitting in this odd mix of freedom and pressure – not wanting to waste the rare chance to do nothing, but not quite sure how to use it either.

When I think about that moment – and my coffee catch-up the other day – it strikes me that this is what it looks like when rest, fun, and play quietly slip down the priority list.

For many of us, it’s what happens when everyone else’s needs and value sit front of mind, while our own keep getting overlooked.
And maybe, that’s one of the ways life starts trying to get our attention…

Here at The Matters Experiment, we explore what happens when you begin to centre your days around a different belief – that you are valuable, enough, and that you matter.

A bit like the analogy of the oxygen mask on an aeroplane – you can’t care for and serve others until you have your own firmly fitted.

When we aren’t living that way, I’ve come to recognise that somewhere beneath all the noise of daily life, life is always leaving clues.

And I’m getting a good idea of what those clues often look like – the little ways life tries to get your attention before something bigger happens that forces your hand.
They’re often so obvious that we learn to overlook them, to write them off as things to compromise on, or to dismiss as child-like dreams that don’t belong in a grown-up life.

But maybe they shouldn’t just be dismissed.
Maybe they’re asking to be noticed – because if we did, we may find our sense of alignment, balance, and contentment returning.

I’m wondering if that is where the experiment begins – simply noticing where life is trying to get your attention.  That has certainly been my experience so far…

I’ll be sharing more soon about the small clues that often appear before the big turning points, and how you can start recognising them for yourself.  Let’s test this hypothesis together!

And, if this stirred something in you, maybe share it with a friend who might understand too.
Sometimes that simple “me too” is the very first clue life is trying to get both of your attention – and the start of a conversation that matters.

After dance, Adam and I dropped her off at her friend’s house, where they played for a couple of hours in the cubby house they’ve been building together for months. Then we brought them home for a picnic lunch on the lawn, where Adam surprised them with ice cream for dessert, which they ate while wandering around the garden.

They spent the afternoon in the kitchen baking Isla’s birthday cake, then changed into bathers to play outside with reusable water balloons that Isla had bought for herself earlier in the year. After quick showers, they were back outside to make S’mores on the little fire we’d lit and play with sparklers, before choosing a movie, eating hard-shell tacos for dinner, and sharing some lollies to finish the day before we dropped her friend home.

When Isla went to bed that night, she was visibly tired – but her face had that unmistakable expression only an 11-year-old can have when every wish in her world has come true.

Easy to see why, right?

As parents, our day was simple. We just made sure Isla was in the right places, had what she needed, and could move from one thing to the next. Everything had been thought through – she’d been planning her birthday for weeks – so all Adam and I had to do was keep things flowing and have the little extras ready when she needed them.

I can’t tell you how thrilled she was with her day, or how easeful it was for us to support it.

As her mum, I’ve always encouraged her to really think about what she enjoys – not just what her friends are doing, or what she thinks her birthday should look like. It’s easy to spend a lot of money and energy on kids’ parties, and once you’re in that loop, it’s just as easy to lose touch with what actually lights you up and feels right for your family.

Part of our decision to homeschool her has been about helping her develop her own mind and perspective – to know what she loves, to ask for it, and to create opportunities that reflect her own joy and excitemen

I was reflecting on that this morning – how simple and joyful her day was, and how good it felt for all of us. It’s what I want for my daughter: to know herself and her desires deeply, and to be confident asking for what she needs.

But as that thought landed, another followed close behind:

Do I know this for myself?
Am I as in touch with what I want and need as she is?
If I had a day to do as I pleased, do I know what I’d want to do?

It’s easy to brush off a question like that – adults have responsibilities, commitments, things that “just need to be done.” But that also sidesteps a truth that’s a bit harder to admit: sometimes we forget what we actually want.

The answer didn’t come easily for me. And I don’t think that’s uncommon.

As I watched Isla plan her day, I realised how naturally she connects with her own joy and pleasure – she doesn’t overthink it. She just knows what feels right, what excites her, and what would make her day perfect for her.

As a parent, I’m thrilled that she’s learning that and already has such a good grasp on it at 11 years of age.
As a person in my own right, I’m aware that I’m still learning it too – and I’ve still got some way to go.

I think that’s what struck me most: seeing so clearly how much I want her to live from her own knowing, and realising how easy it is, as an adult, to drift away from mine.

Life finds a rhythm that we aren’t always conscious of. Days start to run on autopilot. And even when everything looks fine, sometimes that quiet, child-like part of us – the one that knows what we’d love, what we’d ask for if we could – goes a little quiet too.

I’m sitting with that this week.

Because I think the real question underneath it all is this:

Do I still know what the “me inside me” really loves?

And perhaps that’s the place to start – not to feel guilty about, or to suddenly turn life upside down… just to notice.

Lately I’ve been sketching out little notes and patterns of the things that make me feel most like me.  It’s slowly becoming a kind of map, showing where I’ve drifted and where I feel most aligned.
So when I’m next wondering what I would do with some time for myself, I’ll know exactly where to start planning – just like Isla did.

P.S. If you’d like to explore ideas like this more deeply, you’re warmly invited to join The Matters Experiment email community – a space to gently consider your own questions, experiments, and experiences, in your own time and space. You can connect below.

In the beginning, sending an email out into the ether felt disconnected and odd. Would people really read them? Or just think I was a bit bonkers?

I have grown to know there are real people on the other side of those messages, though. Real people who occasionally dazzle and humble me with their bravery to suddenly reach out to respond, ask, or share something that feels true for them. My offer that I am always on the other side of my emails genuinely connecting across time and distance… oh, it is thrilling!

Late one evening last week, I received a response that momentarily took my breath away.

You speak of writing in your journal, is it any journal – is it thoughts you write down, or dreams or wishes or sadness or what do we write in a journal? Is it my innermost thoughts – the ones that keep me awake at night?

Lisa, I’m not sure where to start. But I want you to know that I carry a sadness that needs an escape.

My (partner’s name) heads (overseas) tomorrow and I’m scared of being alone for three weeks. I’ve lost myself.

This email came from a woman I have known for more than 15 years. Not a close, day-to-day friend, but someone I immediately clicked with when I met her and I have respected and admired from afar. She is visible in the world — passionate, intelligent, and thoughtful. I’ve seen her lead effortlessly with her heart and vision, inspiring others with a burning love, passion and gravity that is obvious after five minutes of being in her company.

And she is the woman that everyone else talks to about their problems, struggles, or worries.

Could this email be coming from the same person?

Of course, yes. I’ve seen it over and over – the women others think “have it all together,” who look so capable and enviable from the outside, while quietly carrying all of their own doubt, confusion, and guilt on the inside.

Those last three words… I’ve lost myself.
They echo what so many people feel, but rarely say.

For all the highlights and achievements in my own life, I know how often those words have sat at the root of my own misalignment — between the life that looked shiny on the outside and the loneliness or confusion I carried within.

This is why The Matters Experiment exists: for women like her, and for women like me.

It’s not about a single grand answer or a “fix.” It’s about noticing. Being honest about where we are. And then finding small ways, in the middle of ordinary life, to take ourselves seriously enough to find the way to ourselves and the lives we really want to be living.

Her email emboldened me. It reminded me that I’m not building The Matters Experiment in theory. I’m building it for her.

Not because she needs me to swoop in and solve her problems. She doesn’t. But because clear, practical tools and frameworks can help speed up and support the process — so we don’t have to feel so lost, overwhelmed, or alone.  Ever.  

This idea of being lost inside our own lives is exactly why I’m working on something new – a practical way to pause and gently check in with yourself. A tool to notice where you may have been abandoning your own needs, and where you might be able to choose something different… and some support to know how to do that.  

I’ll be sharing more about that soon. But for now, if any of her email reply felt familiar to you, maybe this is your moment to try something new, too. Your first step could be as simple as hers: a journal and a few dot points. You don’t have to have any answers yet, or to know how to ‘do it right’.  Just open an old notebook and start with something simple like:

“If I could be my own best friend right now, what would I want to hear them say to me?”

Or,

“Where or when in my life did I feel the most like myself?”

Don’t judge what you write or feel that you have to take immediate action. Just notice what comes up — and let yourself be curious about what might want to happen next. 

P.S.  This email reply reminded me again that we all need places where we can be honest about where we are. As I mentioned briefly, I’m working on something to make that easier… which I’ll be sharing it first with my email community. If you’re curious and would like to know more, you can join me via the email sign-up below. xoxo

At just 10 years old, that’s meant a fair share of my time and energy too — driving to lessons, supporting practice, wrangling costumes, organising travel and accommodation, and covering the million little details that come with it.

These last two weeks, we’ve been inside theatres night and day as Isla performed at two different dance Eisteddfods.  I’ve been ‘Mum’, taxi driver, nutritionist, mindset coach, supporter, cheerleader, volunteer usher, adjudicator runner, and scribe, witnessing first-hand the time, effort and dedication that many people put into events such as these for children to explore and express their passion and creativity through dance.  

Our girl has done well – it has been a pleasure watching her growth and development over the past year, taking new opportunities in stride and clearly showing her physical, mental, and emotional evolution.  These are special occasions that we will all remember for years to come – achievements, funny stories, and lovely moments as a family, where we have all been together to watch her shine.  

All the while, it’s also been a significant period of awareness in my own Matters Experiment.

I entered these two weeks with a plan to continue my weekly blog posts and regular interaction with The Matters Experiment email community.  I gave no indication a few weeks ago that anything unusual was going to happen – in my head it was to be ‘business as usual’ and I was looking forward to fitting Isla’s once-per-year milestone events amongst my normal working priorities.  Hey, I’m my own boss, right?  This kind of flexibility is a key perk of the way I do business.  

And yet…. 

The truth is, I’ve barely sat at my computer.  My inbox is full of unread emails, and my content calendar has two weeks of missed dates. When I let myself think about all of this, I feel pangs of guilt and worry about dropping the ball, internally chastising myself for overcommitting my schedule and not being serious about all I had committed myself to do.   

And yet, still…. 

My last two weeks FELT like I wanted them to feel.  I was present with Isla, open and willing in the moments and little experiences that played out – her electric, pulsing joy and energy after dancing out of her skin for a packed theatre, my nervous adrenaline when my volunteering role as paperwork runner turned into sitting side by side with the adjudicator as I captured his constructive feedback for the dancers in real time,  and my delight to share the experience in the audience with my sister as she reminisced about her own dance experiences as a child.  

As the days went by, I realised I was LIVING my Matters Experiment – I was exactly where I wanted to be, doing what I wanted to be doing, with the people I loved.  

I felt defiant.  What is the point of just talking about living like I matter?  I was DOING it!  

And here’s the part I’m most proud of — I didn’t feel torn.

I wasn’t trying to cram blog writing into the car park between dance items. I wasn’t sneaking emails in before bedtime or staying up late to schedule social posts.  I allowed myself to be there.  Even when the occasional doubt crept in, I could see clearly – this wasn’t a collapse of discipline or a failure to show up. This was showing up — exactly where I meant to be.

The only thing I would change next time?  I’ll call it from the start.

I’ll name it — out loud, with confidence — that this season matters, and I’m choosing to be open, willing, and fully present for it.  I say this here not because I owe an explanation to the regular readers of this blog, but because this is actually what The Matters Experiment IS.

Living it.  Choosing differently or again.  Trusting and having faith.

Being willing to pause in my external progress or best-laid strategic plans to actually live the life that matters to me.

So this post isn’t a catch-up — it’s a marker in the sand.  

It is a special moment of recognition that this is what real progress looks like for me – being in it, not just writing about it.  This feels deeply integrous to me – my feelings of contentment and satisfaction help me know that I am on the right track in my own Matters Experiment.  And that means a lot. 

If you’re here too — somewhere in the middle of a big moment, something you have been working towards for some time, or you simply sense there is something that deserves your presence right now — let me encourage you:

You get to choose what matters.

You don’t have to ‘do it all’ to be doing your life right.

You get to trust yourself enough to live it, not just explain it.

Try it. Just for a day. Then see how it feels.

P.S. Are you keen to give it a go?  Go deeper into what The Matters Experiment can look like in your life by joining our email community!  Sign up below.

Fast forward to this week, I’m reminded of this ad as I watch my 10-year-old daughter in her final preparations for a wide range of creative pursuits over the next month or so.

Isla astounds us with her desire to perform, participate and contribute.  This year, she has enthusiastically thrown herself into dance, music, singing, speech and drama, and becoming a Girl Guide.

She has signed up for exams, competitions, choreographing her own routines, writing her own stories, and auditioning for solo singing parts when my husband and I didn’t even know she could sing!

While her enthusiasm knows almost no bounds, the technician and perfectionist in me knows with each commitment there needs to come all of those hours in the dark as Michael Phelps highlighted to prepare and feel truly confident and ready in front of others.  I don’t have this belief because of any expectations for results, I just know deeply through my own experience the difference those experiences can take when you have ‘done the work’ compared with when you haven’t.  

For all of the thousands of hours of practice I did in my own pursuits as a child, I will never forget the confidence, excitement, and freedom I felt in the moments of performance I had when I know I had done all I could to be at my best.  

I know it is one thing to put your hand up for something thinking it will be fun, and it is another to feel completely out of your depth when you realise you are amongst others who have a lot more experience, are better prepared, and more capable than you.  That is a hard lesson to learn, and no one wants to feel like that.

I’m not one to hide from feeling at the edge of your comfort zone as I do believe that is where you grow, however I also know the only way to truly prepare for that experience is to make sure you have done all you can to be at your own best.  

For all of my beliefs about this though, my child’s overwhelming optimism and belief in herself and that it will all be the experience she wants it to be – fun with her friends doing what she loves – has created a challenging yet beautiful tension for me.  

Over the last 2-3 months, in our home we have had plans, rosters, practice sessions, cuddles, aches, conditioning training, reminders, extra private lessons, baths, stretching, massages, raised voices, laughs, tears, frustration, and celebratory hot chocolates.

And this week?  The week before all of her events officially start?  

All of a sudden, I have the absolute pleasure of seeing her shining as her big self as she goes through her routines in her final run throughs.  She has got through the ‘forgetting what step comes next’ stage, or having to be reminded (for the 100th time) what her teacher has suggested for a particular movement.  Most of that is now in her muscle memory so she is free to perform the way she wanted to on the first day that she put her hand up for these opportunities.

I can’t tell you how proud of her I am.  Watching her be in the world unabashedly as herself – that brings tears to my eyes and wells up something so deep in me that it fills my being.

Regardless of what external results or events occur over the next few weeks, I want to bring light to all that Isla has done, experienced, and tried leading up to them.  It is this effort, dedication, and persistence that I want to celebrate in my girl, and what I believe will serve her well long after her dance routines or performance items are completed.

It is a true delight to walk alongside her as her mum. 

Isla’s journey – her commitment to her passions, her courage to be visible, and the joy she finds in simply being herself – reminds me of how we all deserve to show up for ourselves, unapologetically and with the same enthusiasm and dedication.  It’s easy to get caught up in what others expect, the desire to prove ourselves, or the pressure of external results. Watching Isla, I’m reminded again that it’s the process of showing up, of experimenting with what truly matters to us, that brings us the real success.

As I watch Isla prepare for her performances, I’m reminded of something I try to honour every day in my own life: the work that happens in the quiet moments, in the dark when no one is watching. The effort that goes into doing something for the joy of it, not for the praise, is where the real growth happens and it is where we feel the most aligned and contented. 

This is the essence of The Matters Experiment – taking the time to experiment with who you truly are, aligning your actions with what you value, and embracing the growth that comes not just from the outcome, but from showing up fully and authentically in each moment. It’s in this space I truly believe we find true fulfilment.

So, whether it’s preparing for a performance, a personal project, or any part of your life – let Isla’s story remind you to celebrate the work, the process, and the courage to show up as your authentic self. That, in itself, is the success.

May we all continue to shine, regardless of the outcome.

P.S. Want more of this?  Go deeper into what The Matters Experiment can look like in your life by joining our email community!
Sign up below. 

Know the feeling? You’re an adult, facing some of life’s biggest decisions—career direction, the next step in a long-term relationship, or maybe a move to a new city, state, or even country. It’s like everyone else can see the right decision except you, and if you get it wrong, it will ruin your life forever.

Looking back, it’s clear how I created my own internal ‘judge and jury,’ chastising myself when things didn’t go as planned or, at times, feeling like a victim, too overwhelmed by the options to make the “right” decision.

If you’re anything like me, when we view our life this way, no wonder the urge is to stick our head in the sand! It’s hard to even think about the decision, and when we do, we procrastinate, get lost in the emotion of all the ‘what ifs,’ or give someone else control of our decision.

Recently, I’ve been reminded how my view on change and uncertainty has evolved, and how what used to feel like a right-or-wrong test has shifted into something lighter, more empowering, and fun: an experiment.

As someone who’s been fascinated by science and engineering since childhood, I’ve come to see experimentation as a way to test something and observe what happens. You do something a certain way, then watch the results. Based on those results, you decide what to do next.

Simple, right?

Through the lens of experimentation, there is no right or wrong. You did A, and B happened. If you don’t like B, you can go back to A and choose differently. If B is an irreversible change, you can still recognize that you didn’t like it, learn from the experience, and appreciate the fact that you’re now closer to knowing what you do like, because you know what you don’t.

Experimentation gives us clarity, freedom, and structure to grow—all while keeping us in action and out of our heads, where overwhelm, fear, and judgment often reside.

Experimenting with Uncertainty: Facing Change in Real Time

I’m using experimentation right now as I face a potential change in my life. My husband has been in his current role for a while, and he’s starting to explore what the next chapter in his corporate career might look like. One possibility is an international move for our family.

This is a scary thought for me. While I’ve lived interstate for university and traveled extensively for my dancing and professional careers, I still live in the same regional town where I was born. On top of that, I feel most comfortable when I have a good grasp on the situation around me and clear goals and plans that I’m working toward.

A potential international move – even if it’s just hypothetical right now – takes me right into fear and worry territory. In this state, if I don’t watch myself, I can become snappy, short-tempered, and closed-off, even with the people I love.

It’s clear I can’t think my way through this. The lack of information is the very thing that’s making me feel uncertain. If an opportunity for such a move arises, there isn’t a ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ answer. Trying to figure it out from hypothetical scenarios and ‘what ifs’ just makes things worse.

So, experimenting with my uncertainty has been a real lifeline.

While my mind yells, “I don’t know, I don’t KNOW!” I’ve spent time exploring what my true fears are about this potential move. Instead of bottling up my feelings until I have answers, my husband and I have had several deep conversations about how we both feel about different scenarios and where our boundaries lie—both together and individually. None of this is real yet, but it’s given me clarity about what we actually think and feel. It’s helped me realize that I’m not alone in this, and we aren’t on different sides of this decision – it’s something we’re navigating together.

Each little experiment in imagining potential future scenarios, talking about the pros and cons, or trying a new way of journaling or contemplating my fears has helped me feel grounded in the uncertainty of our situation.

How to Experiment with Your Life

Taking an experimental approach to life can really help, rather than treating everything like a test where you either pass or fail. If you’re feeling stuck, start with something small. Test out a new way of thinking about what’s challenging you and see where it leads. You might be surprised!

If you’re spending more time curled up on the couch this winter and worrying about a lack of exercise (or those extra pieces of chocolate that seem to go so well with your cup of tea in the evening), experiment with doing something different each night for a week. Maybe you can only scroll your phone while holding a plank, or every time you get up from the couch, do 10 squats. Take inspiration from those around you—my 10-year-old invented ‘couch gymnastics’ and insists on doing them first thing in the morning. Some of those positions would certainly improve my mobility if I gave them a try!

Being aware of what you truly value can help you decide what small experiments to try. If you feel out of alignment with how you’d like your life to be, rather than letting it turn into an existential crisis, experiment with doing one small thing differently.

Life’s biggest decisions don’t have to feel so overwhelming when we treat them like experiments. Try something small, test your options, and watch as you gain insight into what your next step might be.

What Experiment Will You Try Today?

I’d love to hear about it! If you aren’t already part of The Matters Experiment email community, join us below. You’ll get the chance to share your experience and hear about the experiments others are trying in pursuit of the life they truly want.  Come join us.

It was a simple challenge: Live Like You Matter — Just for a Week. Seven emails, each with a tiny step to help you start thinking about how valuable you are, how you are enough, and how much you truly matter. The goal? To see what kind of magic that realisation can have on your career, relationships, and the sense of alignment and satisfaction you feel in your day-to-day life.

Bringing this to life was a big deal for me. I’ve been living The Matters Experiment myself for years now, but 2025 is the year I decided to stop just talking about it in my head and actually share it with others. It’s an interesting thing, having an idea that you feel could really help others, but not quite knowing how to make it real. It’s one thing to know in your heart that something has value, and another to figure out how to share it.

I’ve always liked to feel competent. As a competitive dancer from the age of 5, I’m used to practising and refining skills, and then putting them into action. I’ve carried this mentality through my career in manufacturing, operations, and past businesses. Usually, I’m following a clear path — there are goals, and a well-defined process to get there. With enough effort, discipline, and focus, the outcome is often predictable. I’m used to working hard, but feeling sure.

This, though? This was a whole different beast.

At the start of the year, I had no idea how to turn this dream inside me into something tangible. Email automations, landing pages, online checkouts… I wasn’t even sure where to start. And then there was the question: I had my own experience, but how do I actually guide others in living like they matter? Where do you even begin?

And, of course, the impostor syndrome made its usual appearance. I kept thinking, “I don’t know how to do any of this,” and “I’m out of my depth.” It’s a voice I know well, and the louder it got, the more convincing it felt.

But then I realised something. This voice? The inner imposter voice is one that the Matters Experiment is here to disarm.  It’s the one that holds us back from doing what matters — the things that really matter to us in our lives. It’s the voice that stops us from taking risks, trying new things, and choosing differently for ourselves.

The reality? If I’d listened to that voice, Live Like You Matter would have stayed a nice idea in my head, and I would have abandoned the hope it could be anything else. I would have never worked through what I needed to, no one else would have had the chance to experience it, and there would not have been the possibility that it could create a positive impact for someone else.

So, I made a choice. I decided to be the person who could create this — someone who would step into the unknown and trust that, even if I didn’t know exactly what I was doing, I would be open to learn something important, regardless of its success this first time.  To me, this is the point of the whole Matters Experiment — giving it a go meant I trusted my own value. In the words of Dr. Seuss, “I have a brain in my head, and feet in my shoes…” What I didn’t know, I knew I could figure out along the way.

And that shift in perspective made all the difference. I watched YouTube tutorials, asked lots of questions, and bounced ideas off my husband (who, bless him, was very patient, even when I woke him in the wee hours for some late-night counsel!)  Slowly but surely, Live Like You Matter (Just for a Week!) started taking shape. And you know what? It was actually enjoyable. Fun, even.

Once the program was live, I shared it with my email list and my social networks. My secret goal? 5 sign-ups. My stretch dream was 10. And the result? Fourteen wonderful people signed up, ready to give it a go!

Fourteen people. That’s 14 real humans who trusted me enough to try out the first version of Live Like You Matter. They took the leap, stepped into the experiment, and now I have the privilege of learning from their experience to make this offering even better in the future.

Looking back, I’m grateful for how much I’ve learned from this experience. Yes, I definitely know more about creating an online program and all the technical bits that go with it. But more than that, I’ve had my own Matters Experiment tested, and it helped me show up and take action — even when I didn’t have everything figured out. My life’s experience is better because I took a stand for how much I mattered, which is the point of this whole experiment!

So, stay tuned — this is just the beginning. There will be more opportunities, more chances to explore, and more invitations and experiments to rediscover our worth and create the lives we truly want to be living together.

If you’re curious about what’s next, I’d love to invite you to start your own Matters Experiment today by joining the email community below. I’m excited to share what’s to come.

I’ve been working away in the afternoons and evenings, elbows deep in The Matters Experiment — shaping something that feels incredibly meaningful. But at the same time, in my personal life, I could feel burnout creeping in. Our little family was juggling too much. As the self-elected ‘Family Manager,’ I could see all the commitments piling up and the train wreck coming — fast.

The inner critic got louder. My fuse shortened. I found myself getting bothered by tiny things. And honestly? I had some moments where felt like a bit of a hypocrite. Here I was, building a mini-program to help others try their own Matters Experiment… and in my private life, I was feeling stretched too thin and frustrated.

But this time — something was different.

I noticed it. Or more specifically, I noticed I was noticing it.  

I caught myself in the spiral. I didn’t distract myself or react to it blindly.  I just stayed with what was happening. Present. Even though it didn’t feel great. And that presence — it felt new. It felt like something had shifted.

That’s when I realised: this work is working.

If you’ve been following along these past few months, you’ll know I’ve been running tiny experiments. Asking gentle questions like:

• What does it mean to have enough?
• What am I still chasing, even when I know I have enough?
• What happens when I let ease guide the way?

They’ve been little things. Private things. Nothing big or flashy. But they’ve started to rewire the way I meet the world — and myself.

So last week, when everything felt like too much, I didn’t hit overdrive like usual. I didn’t try to prove I could do it all. Instead, I paused. I brought the questions I was contemplating for you to my own life.

And guess what? They helped.

I had real conversations with my husband about all we had going on and what actually matters to us right now. We adjusted. We simplified. And the confidence and energy I felt afterward? It reminded me exactly why I’m doing this.

Because it matters. I matter. And you matter.

So… what’s happening here at The Matters Experiment?

A few months ago, I started this blog and an email list that is turning into a beautiful little community. A place where we explore what it means to centre our worth, value, and sense of mattering – not someday, but right now.

Many of you have reached out saying: “I love this… but how do I actually do my own Matters Experiment?”

I sat with that for a while. Because I didn’t want to create a big program or course. 

I just wanted something simple. Easy. Doable. Real.

Something you could try.
Just for a week.
Just for yourself.

Introducing: Live Like You Matter (Just for a Week!)

A one-week guided experiment that includes:

• 7 days of gentle prompts
• Short daily videos + email reflections
• One small action each day
• No tech hurdles, no logins – just you and me in your inbox!

This is the first thing I have ever offered like this – it is a simple space just for you to test what it feels like to live like you matter.  Not at the end of your to-do list, but right now.

It’s not a course. It’s not a challenge. It’s not another task to add to your plate. It’s an invitation to help you to listen to yourself a little more closely. To gently question the patterns that leave you feeling like you’re not quite there yet, or that there is something important you are missing somehow…

I don’t know the exact path you need to take to feel more valuable, enough, and like you matter. But I do know you are all of those things already.

And I’d love to help you start hearing that truth for yourself more clearly.

I spent years searching for someone to give me the answer. But what I found? The answers were already inside me — I just didn’t know how to hear them.  

If this week can help you feel more connected to yourself, more certain of your worth, more grounded in your value — then it’s already done its job.

This whole thing feels a little surreal. I’ve had to do so much of my own work to feel valuable, enough, and like I matter… just to be able to offer this out into the world. And yet, I know in my bones that what I’ve put inside this experience is something that can help you find those things for yourself too.  

Because it’s not about me telling you what to do — it’s about you discovering what already lives in you. The parts you’ve quieted. The parts you’ve ignored. The parts that are still waiting for you to believe they matter.

If that makes sense to you — if something in you feels ready — I truly believe this week will be powerful for you.

Not because it’s perfect. Not because you’ll get it “right.” But because you matter. And when you live like it, everything starts to shift.

I want to see you walking through the world as your biggest, brightest self — not hustling for worth, but steady in it. Content. Grounded. Happy. Real.

I want that for you. And I want it for me.

And I believe this week might just be the place to begin.

What would change if you lived like you mattered?

If that question resonates, and if you want someone to explore it with — I’m here. This is it. Live Like You Matter (Just for a Week!)

I’d love for you to give it a try.