BOOK A DISCOVERY SESSION

A Familiar New Beginning

What You Call a Fresh Start Is Often Just Familiar Thinking.

 

Reading time: 3 minutes

 

 

 

 

 

Summary

At the beginning of each year, many senior managers expect renewed energy, clarity, and motivation to naturally return. Yet experience shows that fresh starts rarely change how leadership actually feels from the inside.

“A Familiar New Beginning” shows how familiar thinking follows us everywhere unless curated, and underlines that for senior leaders gaps are possible between performance and fulfilment, and that often momentum, timing, or another reset are no longer sources for inner professional satisfaction.

Before deciding if this article is for you, consider:

  • Where is your performance still high, but your fulfilment noticeably lower?

  • What decisions do you already know you are postponing?

  • How often do you wait for energy or motivation instead of choosing your inner position?

  • What are you expecting a new beginning to do on your behalf?

Leadership fulfilment rarely comes from starting over.
It comes from how you stand in the role you already hold.

SUBSCRIBE THE THRIVING MINDSET

 

For almost fifteen years in a row, the beginning of the year found me in the same place: at the top of an organization, with solid results behind me and responsibility fully assumed. There was no missing authority, no lack of mandate, and the operational load felt manageable, despite market uncertainty or resource constraints.

 

And yet, well after my first decade in this organization, I clearly remember three consecutive Januaries that started in exactly the same way, marked by a strange and recognisable sensation: again.

 

The rhythm resumed quickly after the winter holidays. Calendars reopened. Meetings returned. The same routines called for my attention, my presence, my decisions. On the surface, nothing was unusual. But internally, the space felt eerily similar to the one I had left before the holidays, when I had assumed that rest would replenish something essential and that motivation would naturally resurface, as it had many times before in my years as Managing Director.

 

It didn’t.

 

A few weeks back into the routine, whatever thin layer of replenishment the Christmas break had offered was already gone. The meetings felt the same. The client issues felt the same. Even the strategic and tactical plans I was shaping, supporting, and endorsing—plans I believed in and actively championed—failed to reach that part of me that had always driven achievement and sustained momentum.

 

From the outside, everything looked intact. My presence was consistent. My decisions were sound. Relationships held. Performance continued. The organization functioned well, even under pressure. There was no visible fracture, no crisis demanding intervention.

 

And yet, my motivation sat at a historic low.

 

This was not a sudden realization. It emerged slowly, without drama or urgency, as a quiet internal voice that grew clearer over time—especially at the beginning of January. What surprised me was not the question it raised, but how persistently it returned:

Who or what motivates me when nothing around me does?

 

The beginning of the year carried a familiar promise. That energy would return on its own. That once things were properly underway, clarity would follow. That momentum would make certain decisions easier, or at least less heavy. It felt reasonable to wait. To observe. To assume this was simply a phase that would pass.

 

That waiting had its own logic. Decisions benefit from perspective. Rushing is rarely a virtue at senior levels. It didn’t feel like avoidance. It rather felt deliberate, responsible, and measured.

 

At least, that was how I experienced it at the time.

 

What made this posture difficult to question was that nothing was technically wrong. Performance wasn’t collapsing. The organizational machinery remained well-oiled despite market and client challenges. There was no external signal demanding immediate correction. And so this internal state persisted - not for weeks, but for nearly three years - carried by a quiet belief that the beginning of a new year would eventually do the work of restoring meaning to my professional identity.

 

The situations differed. The context changed. But the inner stance remained the same.

 

Each year carried the same unspoken assumption: that once the pace increased, something internal would fall into place. That motivation would return. That the right level of tension would reappear. That movement would feel natural again.

 

And for short intervals, it did.

 

But the relief never lasted. Not because the context failed, but because the waiting itself never changed. The same familiar pattern quietly reinstalled itself, carrying a cost subtle enough not to demand immediate attention. Not dramatic, not even destabilizing, simply persistent.

 

Over time, that cost became harder to ignore and manifested as a gradual narrowing. Less freedom in how I related to decisions. Less patience for close collaborators. Less openness for new. Less honesty about decisions I already knew I had to take. 

 

The problem was the quiet expectation that the New Year would mean a fresh start that would do something on my behalf.

 

A new year can reset calendars, rhythms, and expectations. It cannot, by itself, reposition how you stand in relation to the choices you already recognize. When that repositioning is deferred—when you tell yourself there is not enough time, not enough momentum, or that the timing is not right—the “beginning” becomes a stall rather than a point of origin.

 

And these stalls tend to keep you experiencing your professional world in the same way, even if your management performance remains satisfactory and external rewards are intact. When stalling replaces inner positioning, the next year often finds you in the same chapter. And you will know it, as your fulfilment will not match your management performance.

 

Nothing around me had to fall apart for this to become clear. There was no dramatic insight and no breakthrough moment. Instead, I became increasingly uncomfortable with the belief that time, context, or continuous activity would solve what actually required a different inner position.

 

I also came to understand something important: high achieving senior managers can deliver strong performance while feeling deeply dissatisfied with their professional life.

 

At some point, the question stopped being about motivation or renewal. It became simpler and far less comfortable:

 

If performance is no longer the issue, what am I still postponing in my own sense of professional fulfilment?

 

Some questions don’t ask for answers. They ask for a different way of standing in your role.

 

If this reflection stays with you, this space is meant for you.

 


 

How can I support you?

 

The Manager Mindset - One-on-one coaching designed to boost your performance and enhance your sense of fulfilment and satisfaction in life.

Master Your Resilience - Group coaching that helps you navigate life's challenges with greater ease and flow, empowering you to thrive through adversity.

Growth Mindset for New Managers - Your online autonomy training is designed to catalyse your personal growth and ensure your fast transition to your first management role.

Complimentary Strategy Call (FREE) - Let’s craft your personalised roadmap for transformation. Discover where coaching can take you in just 6 months with a free, strategic call to set your path toward success.

 


 

BOOK A DISCOVERY CALL

Reset Isn't Enough. Reframe.

Hope and Faith: The Inner Muscles of a Mature Leadership

Firm, Not Harsh

SUBSCRIBE THE THRIVING MINDSET