
By Lence Naumovski
A few weeks ago, everything changed. After 35 years in corporate, across banking and health insurance, I found myself stepping into a reality I hadn’t known in decades: one without a title, a calendar full of meetings, or a clearly defined next step. Being made redundant is never something you quite prepare for. It arrives, it disrupts, and it asks you to pause in ways you didn’t expect. And yet, what followed didn’t feel like an ending, it felt like an invitation.
Just two days after my final meeting, I attended an International Women’s Day event. From the outside, it may have looked like just another professional gathering. But internally, something had shifted. I was no longer anchored to the identity I had built over 35 years. And quietly, I found myself asking a question I hadn’t needed to ask in a very long time: Who am I now, and what comes next?
If I’m honest, the answer hasn’t come in a neat, polished way.
Instead, it has been a mix of excitement, uncertainty, and a lot of deep thinking. There is a certain thrill in standing on the edge of the unknown, but there’s also discomfort. Because when the structure you’ve relied on for years disappears, so does the familiar rhythm of your days.
For the first time in a long time, there’s no 9–5. No back-to-back meetings. No constant emails demanding attention. No external structure telling me where to be and what to do. And that absence feels both freeing and unfamiliar. In that space, I have realised how much of my identity was tied to movement, productivity, and momentum. Without it, there’s a quiet stillness, one that forces reflection, but also creates room for something new to emerge.
Right now, I am allowing myself to explore rather than rush. To stay open instead of forcing clarity. And that openness has led me to a new path ; working alongside Jeff Ghaemaghamy, Donna Ghaemaghamy, and Katherine Hodge on Project Helix, starting with the Healthy Home and Workplace Movement using the PRYSM iO scanner.
It feels aligned. It feels meaningful. And it feels like the beginning of something different. But I’m also aware that this is a completely new way of working, thinking, and showing up. There is no blueprint, no familiar framework to lean on. It requires me to trust myself in a different way, to embrace uncertainty rather than resist it.
This isn’t a story about having it all figured out. It’s about being in the middle of a transition, that in-between space where identity evolves and new possibilities begin to take shape. Because sometimes, what feels like an ending is simply life making space for something more aligned. And sometimes, the most powerful thing I can do; is pause, reflect, and give myself permission to explore what’s next.
