Time - Stefan’s Week-notes 24/05/2025
Inspired by the weeknotes of friends and coachees including John Fitzgerald, Steve Messer and Nour Sidawi - I thought I'd give it a go.
Inspired by the weeknotes of friends and coachees including John Fitzgerald, Steve Messer and Nour Sidawi - I thought I'd give it a go.
Week of 6–12 May - Theme: Clarity, connection, and quiet boldness
This week didn’t shout. It gathered.
Not a week of leaps, but of depth. Clarity surfaced. Conversations lingered. Momentum continued—but not in a rush. In rhythm. Presence. Precision.
Here’s what I noticed, carried, and am continuing from:
1. What Went Well
A rich and energising conversation with James Cook excited me this week. We explored the real why behind coach selection—not just chemistry or credentials, but unconscious bias, perceived safety, and the subtle dynamics of familiarity and difference.
What landed most was this: the most powerful coaching relationships often contain difference—but not so much that it fractures trust. We touched on six areas, not in name but in intention, where that difference tends to show up:
Socioeconomic upbringing
Professional background
Gender or sex
Race or cultural background
Personality or energetic style
Lived experience
And we reflected on how ‘1 to 5 degrees of difference’ across those dimensions can actually be where the magic lives. Enough common ground to feel seen. Enough contrast to be stretched.
That difference doesn’t dilute the coaching—it deepens it. Especially when the coach brings breadth. Not just depth in one vertical, but perspective across. That range shapes the quality of questions asked, the patterns spotted, and the space held.
We also discussed what happens when a coachee instinctively says no—without quite knowing why. If that instinct isn’t examined, there’s a missed opportunity. Because sometimes, what we resist holds the growth we need.
It was refreshing to explore all this with someone who not only procures coaching, but genuinely cares about who gets chosen—and why.
It's delicate balace and one which needs to honour both coach and coachee and, ultimately, serve the coachee whilst bringing the best from the coach.
The best questions don’t just come from knowing more. They come from having seen enough to ask differently.
2. What Lit You Up
A bike ride with Luke Machin and ‘The Breakaways’ lit me up this week—a great bunch of riders who can definitely turn the screw when they want to.
It reminded me just how much I love riding with others. How good it feels to be part of something moving at pace, together.
I was also reminded—gently—of the fitness I’ve lost since the crash… and of how much I’ve retained.
There was a big lesson in pacing too. When you’ve only done something a little—like group riding—you forget the lessons unless you reflect. This time, I didn’t go to compete. I went to enjoy it. And I did.
We even talked leadership and values mid-ride—cracking chat, strong legs, and a full heart by the end of it. And this reminded me of this quote from the cycling phenomenon Tadej Pogačar:
"I just want to do whatever keeps me interested in cycling and not lose motivation. It can become boring doing the same thing every year. I want to get the most experiences out of cycling so when I retire I will not have any regrets"
3. A Conversation I Can’t Stop Thinking About
A conversation with a husband-and-wife founder team has stayed with me all week. They’re building something bold—a purpose-driven ecosystem across three fronts:
A good business, grounded in sustainable food and commercial practice
A teaching programme, helping children and communities cook and care for their wellbeing
Eco systems design, including energy choices and conscious equipment use
In this one, I found myself sitting right at the intersection—50% mentor, 50% coach. Holding space, yes—but also offering frameworks, drawing connections, and posing questions they hadn’t yet considered.
Like:
What’s the narrative that connects all three fronts?
How might each act as a doorway or channel to the others?
How can you grow through partnerships, to make the full difference that’s needed—without trying to be the whole solution yourself?
What struck me was the clarity of intent, the humility of ambition, and the collaborative energy in the room.
It wasn’t just a strategy session. It felt like a shared act of design.
4. Something That Shifted
This week, it wasn’t so much a shift as a settling—an inner nod to something I’ve known for a long time: this is how I coach.
I move fluidly—between coach, mentor, guide, provocateur. I ask the question, name the pattern, offer the reframe, hold the silence. It’s not a method—it’s a way of being. And I’ve spent years living it.
What’s shifting is not the practice—but how I speak about it.
Not shrinking it to fit a model.
Not apologising for its depth.
Just naming it, clearly:
This is what I do.
This is what coaching means to me.
“He who knows others is wise; he who knows himself is enlightened.”
—Lao Tzu
There’s mastery in that blend. And joy, too.
5. Something I’m Wrestling With
I’m blessed to work with people who seek me out—leaders I admire, respect, and genuinely love working with. The work feels rich, human, and aligned. I’m not wrestling with them.
What I’m wrestling with is this:
What does it look like to grow beyond the organic—without losing the soul of it?
To step into a season of intentional outreach, not just to be seen, but to serve.
Because I see people doing great work. Ava work. Brave, values-led leadership. And something in me wants to knock on the door and say:
“Can I help you go even further?”
“Can I help you lean in more deeply, reach out more widely, move through what’s holding you back?”
Not because they’re broken.
But because they’re building something brilliant—and I might just help them build it better.
This isn’t about waiting to be chosen.
It’s about choosing to show up—with everything I’ve got.
6. The World at the Edges
At the edges, I’m noticing a hunger—for leadership that’s not just effective, but expansive.
Not leaders asking “How do I get ahead?”
But leaders asking “How do I contribute more meaningfully?”
Not “How do I protect my position?”
But “How do I unlock more value for the system I’m part of?”
I’m hearing it in purpose-led founders. In senior leaders quietly looking for deeper alignment. In the coachees asking questions not just about performance, but about legacy.
But I’m also noticing the gap between that hunger—and what most leadership structures are still set up to deliver.
Many systems still reward control, safety, certainty.
And yet the work that really matters—climate, equity, systemic wellbeing—requires risk, generosity, and deep discomfort.
So the question becomes:
Can we make space at the centre for what’s already rising at the edges?
Because it’s not fringe.
It’s the future.
7. Look at This
The RSA café and library in London—a space that invites thought, conversation, and quiet connection. I’ll be working from there on Tuesday, and between 2 and 4pm, I’ve opened a slot for a free coaching conversation over coffee.
No takers yet for this week, though a few have enquired for future dates.
Would you like it?
And it doesn’t have to be at the table. We can walk and talk through the nearby streets of Covent Garden, past Somerset House, or along the Thames by Embankment.
Sometimes movement helps the thinking flow.
“Architecture is the thoughtful making of space.” —Louis Kahn
8. Word I’m Carrying
Time.
Not in the way the world often means it—not as pressure, not as urgency, not as scarcity.
This week, I’ve been thinking about pacing. How much we rush. How much we compress. How quickly we move on to the next thing without letting the last thing land.
And I’m not immune to its pull.
I can feel myself speeding up, leaning forward, measuring minutes instead of moments.
But life doesn’t need rushing. It needs rhythm. Presence. The right tempo for the right moment.
On the bike, in conversation, even in silence—I’m reminded:
Time isn’t the enemy.
Misaligned pace is.
9. The Question That’s Asking Me
Who have I already become?
It’s a question I ask my clients—especially when they’re on the edge of change, tempted to leap to the next role, goal, or summit.
Too often, we skip past it.
We reach for what’s next without standing on what’s already solid.
We chase “becoming” before fully owning what we’ve already become.
But that reflection matters.
Because when we name what’s already true—what’s been earned, shaped, forged—it gives us something stronger to step from.
It’s not about slowing down ambition.
It’s about rooting it.
And for leaders and athletes alike, that grounded confidence often makes the real difference—not speed, not noise, but clarity about what’s already there.
10. What I’m Grateful For
My children.
For the calm they bring into the chaos.
For the love that sits quietly in the room, asking for nothing, offering everything.
For the way they remind me—without ever trying—what really matters.
Not success. Not striving.
But presence.
Connection.
And the gentle steadiness of being loved and loving in return.
11. Where I’m Rooted
This week, I’m rooted in clarity and quiet purpose.
Clarity about the work I do—and how it serves.
Clarity about the kind of coach I am, and the kind of leader I want to keep being.
And a quiet purpose that doesn’t need to push, but knows how to move.
I’m not preparing to leap. I’m continuing—deliberately, steadily, from a place I trust.
There’s strength in that.
Not static. Not loud. Just aligned.
12. What I’m Reading
This week, I’ve been leafing through Rouleur Issue 135—an edition that drifts between the peaks and poetry of Italian cycling.
It’s centred on the Giro d’Italia, but it’s not just about the race. It’s about the land, the legends, and the long shadows cast by riders like Richard Carapaz and Gianni Bugno. There’s a piece on the time trial that threads through Lucca and Pisa—two cities, two histories, one line between them.
Reading it feels less like study, more like slipping into a quiet peloton of ideas.
The kind of writing that doesn’t shout. It hums.
It moves with rhythm, not rush—with reverence, not repetition.
And as I turn the pages, I’m reminded:
Sometimes the road isn’t there to conquer.
It’s there to carry you.
If you let it.
Wrap-Up and Over to you
Some weeks are about becoming.
This one was about being.
About naming what’s already true.
About choosing how to move.
And about trusting the rhythm that’s rising quietly beneath it all.
Here’s to moving forward—not faster, but truer.
Over to you:
Who have you become?
What did you overcome to get here?
What does that mean about where you are now?
What could that mean for your future?
Remember; a thriving planet is worth it and we all need you.
Stefan
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For now; thank you
I am…
An executive coach who specialises in helping good people lead great things.
Good people care about others, our planet and beauty. Great things are changes for the betterment of society and all that lives within an around it.
It sounds big and fun - it is.
I'm also an endurance racing cyclist and a go. getter.
You can read more about me and what I do; how I work here