June 10, 2025
You come to work on a Tuesday morning, coffee in hand, your inbox blessedly un-chaotic. You’ve been here for years—maybe even decades. You know the backdoors of the processes, the quiet tricks that make things run smoother. People turn to you for advice. You have a plan for the quarter.
Then the first wave hits.
An email lands with the subject line “Restructuring Update.” You open it. A few teams are affected. People you know. People who’ve been around. You scroll. You think, “That’s tough, but it’s not us.” You message a colleague:
“Wild morning, huh?”
They respond with a nervous emoji and go quiet.
You start attending more meetings where no one really knows what’s going on. Leadership starts saying things like “resilience” and “agility” more often than usual. You attend a town hall. Someone asks a question in the chat and the CEO kind of half-answers it by quoting a TED Talk.
Then it happens again.
Another wave. Another layoff. This time closer. Your desk neighbor, your project buddy—gone. Their MS Teams profile silently deactivates like some digital execution. Your team chat changes overnight. Suddenly, there’s a lot more “just checking in” and a lot less actual checking in.
You start wondering: Am I next? Should I start applying? Should I act like everything’s fine? Should I ask?
You look at your to-do list, which now feels more like a list of distractions from the unknown.
Then comes the kicker:
“We’re asking all employees to return to the office three days a week.”
You remember that “remote-first forever” promise from two years ago—back when you sold your city apartment and moved to that peaceful town where the biggest daily stress was whether to work from the kitchen or the garden.
Now you’re commuting again, only this time it’s a 2-hour train ride, and no one can explain why.
⸻
And Suddenly… the Ground Is Moving
Your calendar is still full. Your email still pings. Your badge still opens the door. But something underneath has shifted.
You’re still loyal—but a bit less trusting.
Still motivated—but easily distracted.
Still present—but watching the exits.
⸻
This isn’t burnout. Not exactly. This is ambiguous loss. The loss of stability, predictability, clarity. The invisible glue that used to make work feel safe, even when it was hard.
And the worst part?
No one really talks about it—at least not in corporate meetings. Only in whispers. Only in eye-rolls. Only in little private MS Teams DMs that say,
“Hey… are you feeling this too?”
⸻
So what now?
Do you stay quiet and keep your head down?
Do you polish your LinkedIn profile at lunch?
Do you start micro-managing, over-performing, detaching—or all three, depending on the day?
Or is there another option?
⸻
That’s where we start. As a coach, I’ve seen what happens in these or similar moments—not just on the org chart, but in real human teams. And I believe that even in the weirdest, most shifting moments, there’s still space for connection, clarity, and care.
Let’s unpack what’s happening. And let’s talk about what we can do.
Let’s be honest: when a company hits a period of instability—layoffs, re-orgs, leadership changes, sudden strategic pivots—it’s not just processes that change. People do too.
And one of the first changes? Silence.
No one talks about what’s really going on. Not in the team meeting, not in the company updates. Instead, the real conversations start happening in smaller and smaller circles—private DMs, hallway whispers, the trusted-friend zone.
That silence doesn’t create calm. It creates anxiety.
People start filling in the blanks with worst-case scenarios.
“What’s coming next?”
“Am I next?”
“Are we being lied to?”
At the same time, the emotional load gets heavier. You still have a job, technically. But what are you even supposed to focus on? You’re trying to hit deadlines while also half-watching the exit door. You feel scattered. Drained. Less and less motivated. Your usual sense of purpose turns into a fog.
Some people go straight into job-hunting mode—which is fair. Totally valid. But when that mental shift happens too soon, before there’s clarity, people often check out long before they’ve found anything new. They stop raising ideas. Stop contributing. They go into self-preservation mode.
The company doesn’t just lose people—it loses their engagement.
And ironically, in the middle of all this chaos, there’s still work that needs to be done. Work that fits someone’s skills, energy, even passions. But in the confusion, no one’s asking, no one’s offering, and that potential goes unused. It just sits there, like tools gathering dust on the shelf.
And then there’s the human need for recognition—for seeing each other.
In these times, it’s rare to hear “Hey, I know this is hard. I see how much you’re holding.”
So effort starts to feel invisible. Wins go unnoticed. That turns into frustration, sadness, sometimes passive resistance. Toxic behaviors start to bubble up—not because people are bad, but because they feel unseen and unanchored.
⸻
When teams start talking—really talking—things shift.
The ambiguity doesn’t disappear, but it becomes a shared challenge instead of a private panic. People realize, “I’m not the only one feeling this.” And that alone brings relief.
From that shared space, you can refocus.
You map what’s still in your hands, what you can influence, what you can do together.
You stop flailing and start choosing.
Psychological safety begins to build—not from grand promises, but from small acts of honesty. The team becomes a kind of shelter inside the storm. People check in with each other. There’s humor again. There’s space to say “I’m not okay today” and not get penalized for it.
.jpeg)
And then come the micro-wins.
Someone finishes a thing. Someone solves a problem. Someone just shows up and listens.
That’s enough to generate movement. Serotonin. Stability.
And when that happens, the team doesn’t just survive the change. It becomes stronger inside it.
This is the introduction into a series of short, practical articles designed for people leading or supporting teams through uncertain, shifting, often frustrating times.
Some pieces will offer hands-on exercises you can try with your team—tools that spark connection, clarity, and calm. Others will offer insight and perspective—not solutions, but grounding ideas that help you think, feel, and lead more intentionally.
This isn’t about pretending everything’s fine. It’s about working with what’s real.
Yes, things are unclear. Yes, people are tired, distracted, or quietly scanning LinkedIn under the desk.
And yet—teams are still showing up. People still care. Energy is still there, under the surface. The opportunity is to use this moment not just to survive, but to shift: to build trust, re-center around purpose, and create a little more meaning—even now.
A kind reminder:
Choose what feels right for you and your team and start with the exercises that you believe would work well. Not every exercise will fit every culture or moment. The goal isn’t to “do it all,” but to stay in connection—with yourself, with your people, and with the reality you’re all navigating. It’s not going to be a ready guide (yet :) ) on how to systemically approach it, as each context is different.
And if you need support—if something resonates, or if you’re unsure how to bring this into your context—don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m here to help.
Even in the hardest seasons, there is always room for:
• A small win or even a moment of unprecedented growth
• A moment of relief or satisfaction of achieving goals even under challenging circumstances
• A shared laugh and a story worth writing a book about :)
• A deeper connection
Let’s begin with one of my favorite exercises in the next article.
⸻
If this resonates and you’d like support, I offer team workshops, personal coaching, and organizational consulting to help navigate uncertainty, build trust, and foster resilience.Feel free to reach out on LinkedIn or book an intro call — happy to explore what could help in your context.
