The Nervous System Reset Business School Never Taught You.
Mar 29, 2026
In last week’s issue I wrote about the uncertainty and unparalleled change most of us seem to be facing right now.
In business, when we turn on the TV, when we scroll our phones at night before we turn off the light…
And the question I underlined was, “Am I even relevant anymore?”
Well, that seemed to strike quite a chord. In fact, you may have been one of the people who reached out in DMs to talk it through.
The conclusion we both came to was, yes, of course you’re still relevant! There is absolutely a space for you in this “brave new world.”
But it might take a radical internal shift to see it.
Well, this week I’d like to go a little deeper, because if a radical internal shift is what’s needed — to leave it there would be doing you a disservice.
You see —
You can’t simply think your way out of this level of uncertainty.
You can’t strategize, optimize, and you definitely can’t hustle your way to clarity when the old rules no longer apply.
(And I say this because being lost in busy work, relying on old strategies, working faster, harder -rinse, roll, repeat -is possibly the worst thing you can do.)
You see, when everything external is rearranging: your industry, your income, the cost of living, the pressure you feel-even your sense of self-your nervous system perceives threat. And when that happens you can’t access your truest self, your wisest self; and that can cause you to stay stuck in unsupportive patterns, or make unwise decisions.
Now (as ever!) there’s a lot here we could unpack. But this week I’d love to pull back the curtain on two very real factors at play:
Uncertainty and grief.
The uncertainty that comes from this unpredictable, sensationalist world we’re living in.
And the grief you feel when you realise you may have to (in some sense at least) leave behind the life you thought you could rely on-and start over.
In fact, you may be operating in a deep sense of grief right now-and you don’t even know it.
I’ll also be giving you a profound exercise that you can start practicing today (that thus far I’ve only ever shared with my clients).
It’s a powerful and profound one!
Ready? Let’s dive in.
The Link Between Uncertainty and Grief
At a biological level, our nervous systems have evolved to help us keep safe. And for most of human history, safe = predictable.
A stable income? Safe.
A clear role? Safe.
Thinking that your tomorrow will look exactly like today?
Safe.
Right now, you may feel anything but safe. The expertise you’ve worked so hard to build, and the norms you’ve come to rely on, are being reshaped in real time. (As I mentioned last week, some of the biggest players in tech are already linking cuts and restructuring to the rise of AI.) Reuters also reported that Block, led by Jack Dorsey, planned to cut over 4,000 jobs, nearly half its workforce, as part of an AI overhaul.
The lines on the map are being redrawn.
And as human beings, we are deeply sensitive to uncertainty when the structures that once gave us identity, stability, and direction begin to shift beneath us. When the future feels harder to predict, the nervous system can start to register threat more quickly, leading to anxiety, hypervigilance, or overwhelm. Not because something is wrong with you, but because your system is trying to adapt to a reality that suddenly feels less certain.
What this looks like is deeply personal, but you may recognize it as:
- Over-thinking and over-analysing (but feeling like you’re not getting anywhere).
- Numbing out, doom-scrolling and thinking “I can’t take this anymore.”
- Being reactionary: snapping at people you love, or collapsing into bed every night utterly spent.
Even if you don’t see it in yourself, you may recognize it in those you love: (the graduate whose prospects look bleak, for example).
It all takes a toll…
And ultimately, if left unresolved, the worry that eats away at you can tip you into a state of grief.
What Grief Really Is (and Why It May Be the Last Thing You Think You’re Feeling)
Grief isn’t reserved for the bereaved.
And it isn’t only what follows the end of a relationship.
It’s part of being human.
It lives far beyond death and heartbreak. It can surface anywhere there has been attachment, meaning, hope, or expectation. A job. A version of yourself. A future you were certain was coming. A life that once felt simple, coherent, and safe.
And in seasons of fear, confusion, or unpredictability, grief can take forms you don’t immediately recognize.
You may find yourself grieving a past that looked so much simpler.
Or a future you can no longer picture.
Or the loss of the person you thought you were becoming.
Grief can feel like love with nowhere to land.
Like emotions that were never fully felt.
Like a nervous system carrying more than it knows how to process.
At its core, grief often asks us to reckon with three kinds of loss:
the loss of attachment
the loss of identity
and the loss of future expectations
Something in you is trying to come to terms with a new reality:
That person, that job, that role, that promise is no longer here in the way it once was.
And that takes time.
Because grief is not just sadness.
It is the slow, often disorienting process of updating your inner world to match what is now true.
And the more you try to override it, rush it, or push past it, the more likely it is to linger beneath the surface -unresolved, unspoken, still asking to be felt.
How This Can Look in Practice…
A client of mine ( let’s call him “Stephen”) recently lost a high-paying job in tech.
It was the kind of job that looked impressive from the outside. The kind of job people point to and say, you’ve made it. And over time, without fully realizing it, he had built much of his identity around that role.
On paper, some would have called losing it a failure.
His family certainly did.
But long before he was let go, his body had already started telling the truth.
His system had been sending signals for months: this isn’t right, this isn’t sustainable, this doesn’t feel safe. But he kept overriding what he felt, because the job matched the dream. Or at least the dream he had been taught to believe in.
So he kept going.
He kept performing.
He kept his lid on it.
Until the job was taken away from him.
And when we began working through the aftermath, it became clear that he wasn’t only grieving the loss of employment.
He was grieving a whole structure of meaning.
A future he had imagined.
An identity he had invested in.
A version of success that had been shaped as much by family expectation and cultural conditioning as by anything truly his own.
Slowly, as the rawness began to settle, he was able to see the deeper truth:
What he had been chasing was not only ambition -it was safety.
A survival strategy.
A learned equation that said: if I achieve enough, I will finally be okay.
And once he had enough distance from the toxicity of that environment, something shifted.
He could see more clearly.
He could breathe again.
He could recognise how much he had already built, how much of himself he had abandoned in the process, and how much lighter life felt outside of that old definition of success.
In time, he became not only happier, but more grounded.
More honest.
Even more financially secure.
What first arrived as grief and uncertainty slowly revealed itself as something else too:
A redirection.
A loosening.
A chance to build a life that actually fit.
As I told him:
“Success and wealth should include your health, your happiness, your sense of fulfillment, and your ability to enjoy your life. Whatever path you choose, success is not just what you build-it’s also how it feels to live it.”
The Truth About Grief
Grief is not always dramatic.
It is not always obvious.
And it does not only follow death.
Sometimes grief is what rises when life stops matching the story you built your identity around.
Sometimes it is what remains when the role falls away, the plan collapses, the attachment breaks, or the future changes shape.
And sometimes the most healing thing you can do is stop asking,
“Why am I struggling so much?”
and begin asking,
“What am I being asked to let go of?”
Because grief is not weakness.
It is not failure.
It is not proof that you are broken.
It is often the deepest part of you trying to adjust to what is true now-
and, in time, make space for what comes next.
Coming Back to Yourself: An Emotional Processing Toolkit for Grief, Stress, and Overwhelm
So far, I’ve shared a lot about the science of stress, grief, and the emotional intensity that uncertainty can bring.
If you’ve been feeling all over the place, there is nothing wrong with you. What you’re experiencing is not random. Grief, stress, and change often activate old protective patterns in the body and mind-patterns shaped to keep us safe, even when they no longer serve us.
What follows is a simple practice you can return to whenever your emotions start to spiral, or your thoughts become loud and hard to manage. It can help you reconnect with your body, meet what you’re feeling with more honesty, and find a little more steadiness underneath the overwhelm.
When emotions build up, it is easy to do one of two things: suppress them, or get consumed by them.
Neither helps for long.
This practice is designed to help you do something different.
Instead of trying to think your way out of what you feel, or forcing yourself to “stay positive,” this process helps you slow down, reconnect with your body, name what is happening, and support the emotion in moving through with more awareness and care.
This is not about fixing yourself.
It is not about dramatic release.
And it is not about making grief disappear.
It is about meeting what is real, so you can find a little more steadiness, clarity, and self-trust underneath the overwhelm.
The 7-Step Process
1. Pause and locate yourself
When you are spiralling in thoughts, planning, analysing, or catastrophizing, you are often no longer fully in the present moment.
The first step is to pause and come back into your body.
The practice:
- Stop what you’re doing.
- Take 3 slow breaths, with a longer exhale than inhale.
- Ask yourself: Where am I in my body right now?
- Notice what you find.
You might notice:
- tightness in the chest
- raised shoulders
- shallow breathing
- heaviness in the belly
- numbness
- a clenched jaw
- restlessness or pressure in the body
Simply noticing what is here can begin to create space.
2. Name what is present
Once you have located yourself in the body, see if you can name what you are actually feeling.
The practice:
- Place a hand on your heart.
Ask: What am I feeling right now?
Name it simply and honestly.
It might be:
- fear
- grief
- anger
- sadness
- shame
- exhaustion
- disappointment
- confusion
If it feels supportive, say it quietly out loud.
Putting words to what you are feeling can reduce overwhelm and help you meet the emotion more directly.
3. Separate story from sensation
When we are distressed, the mind often starts generating stories that intensify the emotional charge.
You might notice thoughts like:
- I can’t handle this.
- I’ll never recover from this.
- Everyone will be disappointed in me.
- I’m too late.
- I’m becoming irrelevant.
These thoughts can feel very convincing in the moment. But they are not always the full truth.
The practice:
Ask yourself:
- What am I telling myself right now?
- What is the sensation underneath that thought?
For example:
- Thought: I can’t do this again.
- Sensation: tight chest, shallow breath, heaviness in the stomach
This does not mean the thought is meaningless. It simply helps you distinguish between the body’s stress response and the mind’s interpretation of it.
That distinction can create more perspective.
4. Ask what the emotion may need
Often, underneath an emotional reaction, there is a need asking for attention.
Fear may be asking for safety.
Grief may need to be honoured.
Anger may be pointing to a boundary or a need for acknowledgement.
Exhaustion may be asking for rest or support.
The practice:
Ask yourself:
What might this feeling need right now?
Not what you should need.
Not what would make you look composed.
What feels true.
You may need:
- a pause
- reassurance
- space
- quiet
- movement
- tears
- a boundary
- a witness
- rest
Then see if you can offer yourself one small expression of that need in this moment.
Not the whole solution.
Just one honest response.
5. Let the emotion move
Emotions are not only thoughts. They are also felt in the body.
When it feels safe enough, make space to let the feeling move rather than tightening against it.
The practice:
- Sit or lie down somewhere quiet.
- Place one hand on your heart and one on your belly.
- Breathe slowly.
Ask: What is here that wants to be felt?
- Notice what begins to rise.
This may look like:
- tears
- trembling
- heat
- tightness
- a lump in the throat
- restlessness
- an urge to curl up, sigh, or exhale deeply
See if you can stay with the sensation without rushing to explain it away or make it stop.
You do not need to force emotion.
And you do not need to perform a release.
The goal is not intensity.
The goal is honest contact.
Grief often moves in waves. Sometimes it softens quickly. Sometimes it returns. Both are part of being human.
6. Support release through the body
Sometimes emotion softens through awareness alone. Sometimes the body needs a little help.
Stress, grief, and overwhelm often show up as contraction, tension, agitation, or numbness.
The practice:
Notice what kind of support your body may need.
This might include:
- going for a walk
- shaking out your arms and legs
- stretching
- slow movement
- dancing
- crying
- exhaling audibly
- lying down with support under the body
- receiving bodywork or massage, if that feels safe and helpful
The aim here is not to force catharsis.
It is to help the body soften, discharge, or settle what it has been holding.
Body-based support can sometimes reach layers that talking alone does not.
7. Resource yourself and integrate
Feeling is only part of the process. The system also needs support afterwards.
The practice:
Once you have moved through some of the emotion, pause and ask:
What would help me feel a little more supported now?
This might be:
- water
- rest
- food
- silence
- meditation
- being outside
- music
- journaling
- a trusted person
- sleep
- stillness
Choose one small, regulating action.
The point is not to make yourself feel instantly better.
It is to help your body register that support is available.
The full sequence
Pause → Name → Separate → Need → Feel → Move → Resource
This sequence can help you:
- interrupt a spiral
- reconnect with your body
- reduce emotional overwhelm
- feel what is real without getting lost in it
- respond to yourself with more honesty and care
Over time, this builds something deeper than temporary relief.
It builds self-trust.
If you are overwhelmed, start here
If the full process feels like too much, use this short version:
3-Step Reset
1. Locate
Take 3 slow breaths and ask:
Where am I in my body right now?
2. Name
Ask:
What am I feeling right now?
3. Resource
Ask:
What is one small thing that would support me right now?
That is enough.
You do not need to do everything at once.
A simple daily rhythm
If you want to make this a regular practice, begin here:
Morning grounding
- Hand on heart, hand on belly
- 3 slow breaths
- Ask: What does my system need today?
Midday check-in
Pause for one minute and ask:
What am I actually feeling right now?
Evening release
Before bed, ask:
What am I ready to put down for today?
Then breathe out slowly.
These small moments of awareness can help you move through stress and grief without abandoning yourself.
The deeper truth
You cannot always think your way out of a feeling.
Sometimes what you feel needs to be:
- noticed
- named
- felt
- supported
- moved through the body
- met with care
This is not suppression.
It is not bypassing.
And it is not about becoming endlessly absorbed in emotion.
It is about learning how to stay in relationship with yourself when life feels hard.
Because the more settled and supported you feel inside, the easier it becomes to hear your own wisdom clearly.
You are your wisest guide
When your system is dysregulated, it becomes much harder to access clarity, creativity, intuition, and discernment.
In a fear state, decisions are more likely to come from urgency, self-protection, or the pull of external validation.
That is why regulation matters.
Not because it makes life perfect.
But because it helps you hear yourself more clearly.
The truth is, you are your wisest guide.
(I’m just the GPS helping you along the way.)
And honestly, no AI can do this for you.
No algorithm can regulate your nervous system.
No Claude bot can help you grieve your losses.
No Chat GPT can show you who you’re truly meant to be.
None of this, none of this, can ever replace your embodied wisdom.
•••
If you enjoyed this- okay, perhaps enjoyed is the wrong word-if you found this useful, insightful, or resonant, I’d love to know.
HIT REPLY and tell me.
I’m in a season of change too, and it means more than you know.
Love and Blessings, 🙏🏻💛🪷
P.S. As I just hinted, in my life, I’m also facing quite a large amount of uncertainty right now.
Next month I’m returning back to the US-and oh, I will miss India! But if I look at what I came here intending to do…
I wanted to have space to grow my business.
I wanted to explore being here and discover what it was like to live in another country for 6 months.
I wanted to get healthier.
I wanted to be in a tropical place for the winter.
I wanted to get some perspective on how my life is going to move forward.
All of it happened. Maybe not exactly the way I thought it would, but each one happened.
It’s all good stuff, but it’s really not easy. As I often say to my clients: life itself takes full focus and presence if you want to do it well.
And learning how to grieve is so, so important to process and release what no longer serves you, and skillfully navigate your life no matter how things change and evolve.
Taking whatever comes and using it to grow and make your life even more beautiful.
Wouldn’t you agree?