The Gentle Rebel Podcast

Andy Mort

The Gentle Rebel Podcast explores the intersection of high sensitivity, creativity, and the influence of culture within, between, and around us. Through a mix of conversational and monologue episodes, I invite you to question the assumptions, pressures, and expectations we have accepted, and to experiment with ways to redefine the possibilities for our individual and collective lives when we view high sensitivity as both a personal trait and a vital part of our collective survival (and potential).

  1. 5H AGO

    How would you know if you’re satisfied?

    What would you say makes something satisfying for you? How do you recognise that you’re satisfied? It’s not always easy to answer those questions. It’s something I’ve explored a lot over the past few years, both personally and in conversations with others who feel caught in a tug-of-war between doing what they feel they ought to do and what actually brings them an intrinsic sense of satisfaction. If you’re trying to make creativity part of your life in some way, it can be difficult to balance sustainability and intrinsic satisfaction. We may hand it over to external measures and signals, such as numbers, praise, and money. Because they’re easier to measure, we often associate satisfaction with outcomes and goals. But if our actions are only motivated by those kinds of extrinsic metrics, especially when they’re personally pretty meaningless, we can end up feeling disconnected from what we’re doing. One of the things I’ve really enjoyed in my work with people is helping peel back the layers of story that can build up like a fog and identifying their own unique signals of satisfaction shining through it. When we recognise these things, we can develop greater confidence in our creative voice and follow a more meaningful pathway through our projects and lives. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c6uaYjKFVKU Satisfaction in the process What brings you satisfaction in the process? What brings you glimmers of connection along the way? When you’ve enjoyed the journey towards an outcome in the past, what made it meaningful for you? Maybe it was working alongside other people and feeling a sense of camaraderie. Perhaps it was figuring things out, solving problems, or seeing things come together that you couldn’t have foreseen before you started. Satisfaction with the response What brings you satisfaction in the response? What kinds of responses give you a sense that your effort was worthwhile? Maybe it’s when you realise someone gets it. Perhaps it’s feeling seen and appreciated for the care you’ve put into something. Maybe it’s when people tell others about it, or it might be receiving some form of reward or recognition. I always remember someone coming up to me after I played a gig to an almost empty room, saying they had almost decided not to come, but were really glad they did. They said, “There’s nowhere else in the world I would rather have been this evening.” That stuck with me. Of course, it’s nice to play to bigger crowds. But moments like that changed how I think about satisfaction. Some of my favourite memories come from small shows that might look like failures on paper but felt deeply meaningful once I moved beyond judging everything by numbers and vanity metrics. Satisfaction with the impact What brings you satisfaction in the impact? When you see something you’ve done making ripples in the world around you, what gives you a sense of satisfaction? Maybe it’s seeing people follow your example and pay something forward. Perhaps it’s seeing someone change in some way because of your effort. Or maybe it’s simply knowing that your work brings more curiosity, laughter, appreciation, understanding, or joy into the world. I find it deeply meaningful when I hear from people about how my music has helped them. Knowing that a song has helped someone through a challenging time in their life feels very satisfying. It can’t be forced, though. Part of that satisfaction comes from the surprise of receiving messages from people, which is why I choose to keep the doorways for communication open. Satisfaction with the result When the endeavour is complete, what gives you that feeling of satisfaction? Maybe it’s the money. Perhaps it’s holding the finished thing in your hand. Maybe it’s seeing it out there in the world. Or finally being able to let go and move on. Knowing it’s done, it’s complete, it exists. How do you know when you’re satisfied? What does it feel like in your body? Between The External and Internal Locus of Evaluation The psychologist Carl Rogers drew a distinction between an external locus of evaluation and an internal locus of evaluation. An external locus might mean waiting for applause, approval, or recognition before allowing yourself to feel satisfied. An internal locus is more about trusting your own felt sense of meaning and alignment, even if nobody else fully gets or appreciates it. When we rely exclusively on external evaluation, we can become trapped in the tug-of-war between what we genuinely connect with and what others validate. We end up waiting for permission to feel satisfied. We might also avoid speaking up about things people don’t want to hear, and shrink back from doing things we anticipate will be criticised, even when they are important to our deeper values and principles. An internal locus helps us stay connected to satisfaction on our own terms. It reminds us that even if the ideal response never comes, there may still be good reasons to feel deeply satisfied with what we’ve done. Internally oriented satisfaction taps into the felt sense that we’ve done the right thing, even if others disagree. At the start of a project or endeavour, it can help to ask: Why does this matter to me, regardless of how others respond to it? Much of this can’t be forced or manipulated. But it helps to become more aware of the small, slow things that give us intrinsic satisfaction, because it then becomes much easier to recognise them when they appear. It also helps us filter opportunities and invitations. We begin to recognise whether something genuinely aligns with what we find satisfying, or whether it’s mostly a vanity metric or a hollow signifier of success. And from there, we can start making more informed decisions about what’s actually worth saying yes to. Does any of this feel alive for you right now? Drop me a message of book a Pick The Lock call if you would find it useful to explore with someone else.

    12 min
  2. 4D AGO

    There’s No One To Blame But You – The True Power of Positive Thinking

    Like other self-help gurus of the time, Norman Vincent Peal targeted the lonely travelling salesman. But his message was also marketed to corporate executives, who were promised that the true power of positive thinking lay in the great dividends it would yield if they could sell it to their workforce. This episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast builds on the first part of this mini-series, where we saw Peale’s roots in the New Thought movement of the 1800s. In this one, we examine how Peale encouraged a corporate embrace of positive thinking so that individuals would attribute all of their success and failure to the quality of their mindset and attitude. We look at the surprising role of Positive Thinking in the 2008 global financial crash. https://youtu.be/4U0Yk4Zryrw?si=JBLU4f-7VbPA6ZWU The Lonely Travelling Salesman and the Birth of a Corporate Tool In The Power of Positive Thinking, Peale recalls his encounters with travelling salesmen. They were on the road, feeling dejected, struggling to make sales, and lacking confidence. He prescribed visualisation, encouraging followers to “Formulate and stamp indelibly on your mind a mental picture of yourself as succeeding. Hold this picture tenaciously. Never permit it to fade.” Peale treats this lonely reality as an unchangeable and natural state of being. He doesn’t question the corporate culture that has made this a way of life for an increasing number of people. Instead, he offers a hand on the shoulder, with advice to ease the natural despair and unhappiness that accompany it. He quotes psychiatrist Dr. Karl Menninger, who said, “Attitudes are more important than facts.” He adds, “That is worth repeating until its truth grips you… You may permit a fact to overwhelm you mentally before you start to deal with it actually. On the other hand, a confident and optimistic thought pattern can modify or overcome the fact altogether.” In other words, it doesn’t matter what is true. What matters is what you want to be true. Believe wholeheartedly, and it will come to pass. This reminded me of a quote from Ivanka Trump’s self-help book, The Trump Card: Playing to Win in Work and Life, which is a descendant of Peale, with the family attending his church and being greatly influenced by his teaching. Ivanka wrote: “Perception is more important than reality. If someone perceives something to be true, it is more important than if it is in fact true. This doesn’t mean you should be duplicitous or deceitful, but don’t go out of your way to correct a false assumption if it plays to your advantage.” Motivational Downsizing and the Rise of Outplacement Firms Barbara Ehrenreich suggests, “In the hands of employers, positive thinking has been transformed into something its nineteenth-century proponents probably never imagined—not an exhortation to get up and get going but a means of social control in the workplace, a goad to perform at ever-higher levels.” The book also paved the way for “motivational downsizing”. Between 1981 and 2003, about 30 million full-time American workers lost their jobs due to corporate downsizings. Ehrenreich highlights how workplaces deliberately instil a positive outlook. Employers bring in motivational speakers and distribute free copies of self-help books. The 1998 mega–bestseller Who Moved My Cheese? was a big favourite for this, cleverly encouraging an uncomplaining response to layoffs. Shifting Responsibility Onto The Individual Companies were learning to shift responsibility from themselves to individuals. Outplacement firms were employed to groom laid-off workers, limit ill will, head off wrongful-termination suits, and protect against bad-mouthing by former employees. The owner of such a firm said, without irony, that “Losing a job is a step forward in your life.” This double-speak casts redundancy as a growth experience. A self-retreat. A deserved time out. Something for which you should be grateful. Ehrenreich recounts the story of an employee who was compelled to work with an outplacement firm after being laid off. He was advised not to discuss his job loss with anyone for a month. He later recalled, “It was good advice. I was so bitter, I would have said things that would have been bad for me.” This is a shrewd move that not only keeps potentially disgruntled employees quiet but also leads them to believe their greatest enemy is internal. In examples like this, the power of positive thinking really does pay dividends…for organisations. Did The Power of Positive Thinking Cause a Global Financial Crash? Ehrenreich writes that some of those who predicted the 2008 financial crash were warned to change their attitude or risk losing their job. Mike Gelband, who ran the real estate division of Lehman Brothers, expressed fears about what he believed to be a real estate bubble. He suggested to Lehman CEO Richard Fuld during his 2006 bonus review that they needed to rethink their business model. He was promptly fired. Two years later, Lehman went bankrupt. Lehman Brothers went against their own best interests to maintain this strange, superstitious belief in the magic of positive thinking. This mindset encourages us to see the messenger as the problem rather than as a gateway to knowledge and solutions. How Peale Cherry-Picked and Even Invented Bible Verses to Reinforce His Version of Reality Peale cites Job 3:25 from the Bible, “For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me.” The story of Job is that he is a righteous man who loses his children, health, and wealth when God permits Satan to test his faithfulness. Peale takes liberties with his interpretation, writing, “If you fear something continuously, you tend to create conditions in your mind propitious to the development of that which you fear.” In other words, he blames Job’s attitude for the horrors inflicted on him by an external force (Satan). He then shares another Bible verse, “That which I have greatly believed has come upon me,” which may leave some people scratching their heads, because he has made it up. “It does not make that statement in so many words,” he continues. “And yet again and again and still again, the Bible tells us that if we have faith, ‘nothing is impossible’.” Peale paints fear as negative thinking and belief as positive thinking. So let’s run with this logic and apply it to Mike Gelband at Lehman Brothers. Gelband feared the housing bubble. According to Peale’s superstitious model, Gelband’s fear itself would have been the problem, not the risky loans, deregulation, or greed. That sounds extreme, doesn’t it? But it’s exactly what’s written in The Power of Positive Thinking. What Other Crises Are We Sleepwalking Into? This is a complete disregard for maturity, wisdom, and truth. When we view it this way, the power of positive thinking undermines our capacity to think clearly and critically when it matters most. It silences reason, logic, and insight. That IS powerful.

    23 min
  3. MAY 4

    Finding Success Close-In

    How do you tend to define success? Is it an external outcome you pursue, or is it something personal you feel ‘close in’? I’ve been preparing for our next set of Serenity Island Picnics. I’m considering how being more experimental might affect my understanding of success. I share a few of these observations in this short episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast. The Return to Serenity Island combines structured resources with a guided creative journey, offering a space for more experimental thinkers to explore change, personal growth, and ambition without the pressure of performance or rigid goal-setting. It appeals to those who view life as a mysterious treasure island to explore rather than a checklist of predetermined items to tick off. https://youtu.be/AFQlxKUNm60 What Does Close-In Success Feel Like? I find more satisfaction in the process of writing and producing a song than in completing it. Hearing a song on the radio doesn’t give me a greater sense of success than the mini-breakthroughs and connecting the dots as it emerges. However, I can downplay the importance of these close-in success moments. Absorbing outcome-oriented metrics can make it seem as though those don’t matter, and that true success lies in pursuing bigger goals. In The Return to Serenity Island, we connect real-world areas with map regions to recognise micro-moments and small glimmers of ‘close-in success’ in everyday life. Seeing Something Universal in Particular Situations A big reason I keep making videos about The Let Them Saga is what it represents. The story got a hold of me, and I’ve been unable and unwilling to ignore it. It’s been a strange experience because it is a complete departure from what I normally do. But with an experimental approach to life, pursuits can be driven by an inner compass (values, beliefs, etc.), which can lead us in directions that may seem, on the surface, unusual. In other words, we may connect the dots and see patterns, threaded together by those intrinsic motivations. For example, I’m drawn to the Let Them story because I can see elements of it as both a symptom of and a contributor to the greater challenges we are currently facing in the world. On Serenity Island, we use this compass to help us assess and respond to opportunities, feelings, and thorns that catch our attention as they arise. This enables us to reorient to our own definition of success and feel more confident about the path we’re on, even if it doesn’t make obvious sense to others. For me, I feel “close in success” when I know I am acting in sync with those deeper motivators, rather than in pursuit of a quick result or the perception of growth. It Can Take Me a While to Understand Where Something Fits I’m in awe of people who can grasp concepts quickly and understand how, why and where they fit. It seems to take unfamiliar ideas longer to snap into place for me. But when they do, it can feel like a mini-revelation. I love those aha moments. One of my core priorities while developing The Return to Serenity Island and The Haven was the concept of seasonal return, rhythm and repetition. For many experimental people, this allows ideas to settle and dots to connect. It’s through the familiarity of repetition that something may eventually land for us at the right time, when the conditions are right. False Starts and The Perception of Failure ‘Close-in’ success can look like failure to onlookers. On the experimental path, growth and progress often unfold in non-linear ways. They may appear as fits and starts. Trial, error, quitting, walking away, coming back, forgetting, remembering. Popular conceptual mantras can shape our self-understanding. For example, we learn to value the ability to “always begin with the end in mind, and start with a clear understanding of your destination”. Productivity bros declare that “winners never quit and quitters never win”. Self-help influencers remind us that “the person who has a fixed purpose and backs it with the determination to see it through to the end is the one who succeeds”. From this conceptual perspective, virtue lies in finishing what you start, even if it is no longer necessary, effective or appropriate. But for experimental people, it’s important to develop the ability to discern when it’s time to quit and how to let go sustainably. Nothing is Truly Wasted In an experimental life, nothing is wasted. Every venture yields something to carry forward. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. No, wait. That’s different. In The Return to Serenity Island, we take time to acknowledge and appreciate our resourcefulness. We make peace with letting go and make space to focus on those sources of close-in satisfaction. Many of us carry baggage about letting go, quitting, and changing our minds. It might have been drummed into us that stopping before the end is wasteful. At its most extreme, an outcome-oriented framework holds that the end justifies the means. So long as you get the result, it doesn’t matter how you do it. It also holds that the end undermines the means. If things turn out unfavourably, the whole journey is seen as a waste of time. When The End Justifies and Undermines The Means I saw Stockport County (my team) lose to Carlisle on penalties at Wembley in the League Two playoff final in 2023. After the match, as we walked away from the stadium, I said, “Well, that was a waste of a day.” I was joking, but part of me felt it too, because the result was disappointing. It clouded my perception of the day, especially in the immediate aftermath of that defeat. But the day was otherwise great, full of enjoyable micro-moments. I realise how quickly I can undermine the time I spend caring, crafting, and creating if I hand all the power to the destination. But on the flipside, I can see how easy it is to find more joy in life when I turn that on its head and give power to the joy of the ‘close-in’. Satisfaction in small things comes from bringing real life to the landscapes we map in our imagination around Serenity Island. How Does Close-In Success Feel To YOU? If life were an island, where would you choose to hang out and explore, regardless of measurable results that may or may not follow? What would you love to plant more of in your life? How do you want to respond to unexpected changes, opportunities, and feelings that arise? Why do the choices you make matter? When experimental people build our lives on the foundations of questions like these, the growth we might otherwise try to force takes care of itself. When we view success up close, the path begins to unfold in unexpected, obvious, surprising, intuitive, gradual, and sudden ways. Join us on Serenity Island to explore more. You can choose what you pay at checkout and get access to all the course materials and live events for the next 12 months. It would be lovely to have you aboard. Head to serenityisland.me to find out more and grab your passport.

  4. APR 9

    Do You Tend To Stumble Into Things?

    Do you find that some of your most meaningful and important endeavours are accidental? Tuula and I unexpectedly made two short horror films earlier this week. And it got me thinking again about differences between experimental and conceptual approaches to life. In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, we explore how, for many of us, the accidental discoveries and detours are not always unhelpful distractions or procrastination, but a vital part of what brings meaning to our lives. We will begin thinking about how to accept and embrace these natural elements of ourselves so we can work with them and they can work for us. https://youtu.be/Ro2tqJ1zNRw Experimental vs. Conceptual I’ve talked about this distinction in more depth elsewhere, based on the research of Galenson and Weinberg. But in short, conceptual types identify a specific goal and lay an efficient path towards it. Experimental types, on the other hand, find success along the way, in side quests, detours, and spontaneous urges that spark creative connection. Accidental Side Quests and Skills For those of us who lean more in the experimental direction, successes are often experienced as a feeling when a side-quest trail, which might look to outside observers like a distraction, sparks a creative connection. Not because we’ve discovered some grand purpose or the thing we were meant to do with our life, but because it brings a sense of integrity to the moment we’re in. We might then dwell in that place for a while, deepening our skills and exploring further ideas, or it might be a short-lived pit stop. But the key is that these side quests give us new insights, dots to connect with previous knowledge and experience, and tools that we carry with us. I recognised this in how quickly I can turn a funny little urge or idea into a finished video that captures the essence of the energy sloshing around. I am not a video editor by trade, but I’ve become highly competent and quick, picking up necessary resources along the way. Stumbling Into Meaningful Endeavours It’s interesting to consider whether, for experimental types, learning and development may often arise more from an existing context than from choosing something outside it. A conceptual type might see a surfer and be inspired to learn to surf. An experimental type might find themselves learning to surf because the opportunity was presented somehow. You’ll recognise this if you say, “I just sort of ended up there” or “I stumbled into it. I fell down a rabbit hole and couldn’t let go of what I found.” This was my story with podcasting. I started my first podcast in 2010, quite by accident. I stumbled on a podcast plugin for my blog and started playing around. It emerged out of curiosity and without a grand launch. Preparing For Unexpected Detours I want to emphasise that the experimental approach isn’t simply about drifting from one thing to another after getting bored. We can spend years on the same thing. Rather, it’s about how we relate to those things we find and, most important, to the possibilities and potentials within the fields we play on. For experimental people, it can be difficult to organise life in anticipation of the accidental detours and side quests we can be sure are coming, because by definition we don’t know what they will look like. That’s part of the deal. It’s why traditional goal setting and personal development tools can feel like a bad fit for us. They start with the end in mind. Knowing where you want to go so you don’t end up elsewhere. But squeezing ourselves into conceptual models is soul-destroying. A Place for Your Experimental Curiosities If this resonates with you, you might be interested in The Return To Serenity Island. It is a guided experience I created for experimental people who want a sense of direction without rigid goal setting. Part course and part choose your own adventure on a treasure island, it is designed to honour the intuitive, curious, accidental orientation that brings us energy and meaning. You can find out more about our coming picnic sessions at serenityisland.me. Four Things I Learned from Two Horror Films View this post on Instagram A post shared by Andy Mort | The Gentle Rebel (@gentlerebelhaven) View this post on Instagram A post shared by Andy Mort | The Gentle Rebel (@gentlerebelhaven) 1. Recognising the Spontaneous Urge We were in the kitchen. I scared Tuula by just appearing when her back was turned. It made me think of those scenes with fridge doors in horror movies, when the door obscures what could be lurking behind it. I suddenly had the urge to make a video. Just because. It would be funny. Then another idea landed. A sequel. A haunted sauna spoon. I love that spontaneous urge. Sometimes an internal story emerges to talk you out of it. “You’re wasting time. You’re being childish.” But I have very fond memories from saying yes to the spontaneous urge, especially when it brings others along. 2. Recognising What is Driving Me When I published those short films on Instagram, it was nice to see people hit the Like button. Not because I needed validation, but because it was nice to see people “get it”. They could understand and feel the energy that created it. 3. Recognising the Rebellious Urge I’ve had YouTube comments saying, “Comb your hair” and “clean up your background.” I take a strange pleasure in knowing that something I don’t care about highlights an irrational reaction in someone else. I don’t live a neatly curated life. It’s a complete hodgepodge. There’s a recklessness in that which feels freeing. 4. Recognising When Enough is Enough Knowing when to quit and move to another trail is part of the experimental experience. We had more ideas for horror movies, but after the second one, it felt like a third would be forcing it. The moment was done. In a good way. We honoured it and let it go. The artefacts it provided will remain. As will the memory.

    20 min
  5. APR 3

    Is Coaching Really a Pyramid Scheme?

    With increasing regularity, I see posts on social media criticising coaching as a pyramid scheme or defending it against such accusations. As people tend to do, they paint a nuanced field with a very broad brush, whichever side they support. In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, I discuss a recent argument I came across. It illustrates how the term ‘coaching’ is understood and used in two distinct ways. “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand the ‘coaches teaching coaches to coach is a pyramid scheme’ situation. It’s literally not… I want to be coached on my business by a coach. Who else would I want to learn this from?!” https://youtu.be/b86vKrEfSUY A Misunderstanding? The framing of that post somewhat mischaracterises the argument it’s pushing back against. The issue isn’t “coaches teaching coaches to coach.” I mean, who better to become a teacher than the person who knows how to do the thing they are teaching? I’ve not seen anyone seriously complaining about that. Rather, when people refer to coaches coaching coaches to coach more coaches to become coaches, they are describing something different. Having gone through an 18-month ICF-affiliated training programme myself, I often watch parts of the industry with my head in my hands. Not least because it is still unregulated and anyone can call themselves a coach. So, it’s a world I have a love/hate relationship with. This episode hopefully demonstrates why I am sticking around (for now). But also why I have great concern about the way things are heading. And I would suggest it’s incumbent on ethical coaches to take the accusations seriously and help people get a sense of these distinctions. When Coaching is Not a Pyramid Scheme Of course, it’s not a pyramid if a less experienced coach goes to a more experienced one for coaching. Someone builds experience over time. Another coach comes to them to address or develop something specific within their business or practice. Even if that coach specialises in working with coaches, those coaches will have their own ways of working, usually with clients across a range of situations. For example, coaches work with people in sport, business, the arts, career development, etc. This is how knowledge and skills spread within a field. Very normal. Coaching can be really valuable as a structured partnership that helps the client make progress on their terms. Not by telling them what to do, but by helping them identify their desired outcome. And then asking questions to help them get clear on the steps they want to take as well as preparing for potential obstacles they might anticipate along the way. When Coaching DOES Look Like a Pyramid Scheme What, then, is this pyramid of coaches coaching coaches to coach coaches? How is it different? Sixteen years ago, when I started my blog and podcast, I remember many online entrepreneurs giving away e-books and selling courses to teach people to build a dream lifestyle business. They dangled freedom from employment and four-hour workweeks, and shot their videos on beaches and in mountain-side cabins, to attract an audience to their webinars. Like Influencer Culture today, they would promise an easy-to-follow blueprint to guarantee followers the same success. These individuals taught others how to create and sell digital products that taught people how to create and sell digital products that taught…yes, you get the point. There was no meaningful substance anywhere in the chain. The money made came from aspirational marketing that shaped perceptions, sold appealing promises, and used smoke and mirrors to persuade people it was a quick route to material wealth. This is exactly what we have witnessed happen in corners of the online coaching world. It targets individuals, encouraging them to believe that becoming a coach is a quick route to financial prosperity or to escaping material insecurity. They are sold a blueprint for convincing others of the potential wealth of becoming a coach who shares the same process with them, so on and so forth until the supply of potential clients runs dry. Coaching Is Never a One Size Fits All Solution Even for coaches who find their own niche, you can tell when this sort of pyramid model is at work because they coach people to become coaches. Treating every problem with the same solution. A “relationship coach” may end up with many clients becoming coaches themselves. A “career coach” has a disproportionate number of people pivoting to follow in their footsteps in building a coaching business rather than being coached to identify and follow their own path. It concerns me when I see a coach describing how their clients have succeeded in the same ways they did. That is a dereliction of what I see as the purpose of coaching: to support each individual in defining success on their own terms and navigating their unique path towards it. Identifying Pyramid Schemes in the Coaching World How can we assess whether a coaching environment is genuine and meets our needs or those it supports? And how can we identify sources of exploitation and extraction in the coaching industry? Does it Create Dependency? In a healthy structure, the value is evident in the client’s life. They see shifts in the area they worked with a coach to address. For example, development of leadership skills, a clear path for their planned career pivot, or forward momentum with a personal project etc. In a pyramid structure, the value is cyclical. Success is often based on copying and reusing the coach’s business model and tools. Especially if the original coach earns affiliate commissions from their client’s future business, which frequently happens when they’ve been sold a specific model or framework to build their business around. It’s a big red flag if your coaching credentials rely on your continuous connection to the coach (such as paying for rights, licences, etc.), and the certification lacks legitimacy outside the bubble where you trained. Does it Restrict Outcomes and Definitions? Another red flag is a testimonial list where every client looks like a carbon copy of the coach. Solid and ethical coaching acts as a prism, refracting unique objectives into results as diverse as the number of individuals being coached. A pyramid acts as a mould, pressing everyone into the same shape. Does It Only Have One Solution? Ethical coaching draws on a range of experiences and diverse training sources, enabling the coach to exercise initiative and treat every client according to their unique needs. Pyramid structures depend on insularity and a one-size-fits-all approach. If the coach’s sole credential is their success in producing more coaches in their own image, it raises serious concerns. Over to You I’d be interested to hear how this has shown up in your experience. Send me a message or leave a comment.

    14 min
  6. MAR 29

    Is Something Holding You Back?

    Join me on Saturday April 4th 2026 for a mini-zine making workshop around this theme of Expressing Your True Colours. What stops people expressing themselves authentically? This question has been on my mind over the past couple of weeks. I collected responses from a poll asking which statement feels most accurate to people at the moment. You might have seen it if you are subscribed to my mailing list or YouTube. Two statements resonated with many people. They are related. “I want to discover and clarify my own true colours.” And “I want to feel more confident expressing my true colours.” When I talk about true colours here, I mean knowing, being, and expressing ourselves in genuine, authentic, and natural ways. These aspects of ourselves may get dulled, toned down, or lost for a range of reasons. In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, I explore a few potential reasons we might hold back from expressing who we are. Let me know what I’ve missed! It is a topic that comes up a lot in my work with highly sensitive people. Here are the HSP Colour Swatches I mentioned in the episode. https://youtu.be/GKRPwTRaBbg Tiredness The first answer that came to mind was tiredness. You might be exhausted from caring responsibilities, workload, or the chronic strain of functioning in a dysfunctional society. If your energy is sapped, you are running on fumes and you do whatever it takes just get through the day. There is not much left for “self-actualising”. This is obvious among those with caring responsibilities and chronic health conditions. But it is also evident among those burdened by productivity culture and the pressures to survive in an unstable economy. People might seem to be expressing themselves online, but beneath the surface is sometimes a drained, colourless exhaustion. Money Money does weird things to us. It might lead us to make choices that run counter to who we are. It corrupts our true colours, especially in a world of scarcity. Not having enough can be the difference between health and illness, life and death. Money can also make people less creative. They seek familiar models and methods to guarantee outcomes. That is a distinct dulling of our personal creative spirit. Keeping the Peace You might sacrifice your own needs, preferences, and dreams. The potential fallout of advocating for yourself does not feel worth it. I hear a lot of highly sensitive people lament this, especially if they live with those we might consider narcissistic energy vampires. The short-term relief of making yourself small can outweigh the prospect of setting boundaries around your own desires and opinions. External Authority It is tempting to focus on personal psychology. As if the only thing stopping us is ourselves. This self-help trope is not true. In repressive cultures, certain lifestyles, identities, and groups are prohibited from freely existing. It can be dangerous to express yourself. Regimes and authorities prevent people from living out their true colours. Fear of Rejection This fear may come from an internal narrative, or it might come from a real threat of being judged, excluded, or ostracised. This is a fundamental point of safety in human survival. When we experience it, we naturally make ourselves smaller. We also see people exclude themselves. They fear they are too much for others. But rather than dulling their colours in a social context, they withdraw them. They keep themselves to themselves. This can come from sound instincts or learned patterns from earlier in life. Fear of Visibility We might resist showing parts of ourselves because we do not want eyes on us. Not everyone wants to be the centre of attention. This is a big one for me. I find it uncomfortable to have the spotlight shone on me. So even if I have the urge to get up and dance, which sometimes I do, the self-consciousness usually overrides it. But the fear can extend beyond embarrassment. There is scrutiny, judgement, envy, and the loss of anonymity. These things might make expressing yourself feel unsafe. What we would feel visible doing in one place is a completely normal expectation in another. Having the Wrong People Around Us We might not feel welcome. Maybe people are bored or dismissive of our interests. Or we have different tastes. This leads us to neglect those parts of us that do not have an outlet. I have seen this a lot with communities of fans. The thing around which fans gather acts as a conduit for self-expression. The community provides a collective where it is safe to geek out without being dismissed as obsessive. On that note, some environments allow a person’s true colours to come through. This can surprise those who know them best. A child who keeps parts of themselves hidden finds a place where they feel free. The family might think they are acting out of character. The Pressure of Finding Our “True Self” Human existence is messy. It is full of contradictions. Who we are is built up over a lifetime of experiences and decisions. If we believe there is a graspable essential self lurking within, we can get caught in fear of getting it wrong or never finding it. We latch onto performative identities, try on costumes, and label ourselves into categories, hoping to stumble on who we ‘truly’ are. This takes us further away from feeling at home in ourselves. Internalised Voices Inner criticism hits hardest in those raw zones of authenticity. These are the places where our true colours are felt, but the exposure is vulnerable. The best music producers I have worked with can identify those raw depths. They are the parts we want to hide. And they are also the parts that hold the magic. It is hard to turn up the volume on that if we are working alone. It feels so vulnerable. Maybe it was made raw by a critical voice in the past. This voice puts the brakes on self-expression, seeking safe routes. Over time, without voices that instil confidence in our unique nobbly bits, we may lose touch with ourselves. We piece together a self-concept from approved bricks borrowed from the world around us. Not Enough Time and Space It takes time to warm up and feel safe to reveal ourselves. That is normal. But in a world that demands quick first impressions, we are not afforded much time. So we may prioritise perception over integrity. We perform the colours we need people to see. If you have attended a networking event, you may need a shower afterwards to wash away the residue from slippery encounters that lacked honest depth. At least, that’s been my experience at times. If we are immersed in that unnatural rhythm for long enough, we start to reflect its colours. We lose sight of ourselves. A Workshop to Explore Your True Colours I am hosting a workshop on Saturday, 4th April 2026. We will think about how to understand and express our true colours by creating mini-zines. I use them to generate ideas, work through challenges, and communicate information (like the HSP Owner’s Guide). No skills or experience necessary. It is a chance to think about the things that matter to you. The things you wish others cared about too. We will explore whether and how it might be possible to express your true colours in places where you currently feel unable to. There is no pressure to share what you create with anyone else. Join me and a friendly group of people who get it. Find out more at the-haven.co/TrueColoursWorkshop.

    19 min
  7. MAR 24

    The Religion of Positive Thinking

    The Power of Positive Thinking promised liberation from feelings of inferiority and self-doubt. But did it simply deliver us a new set of demands and anxieties to adhere to? We often consider positive thinking as a beneficial mindset that enhances performance in sports and other activities. However, it is more than just a description of a possible behaviour. It is also the title of a 1952 book by Norman Vincent Peale. The Power of Positive Thinking builds on the New Thought movement that emerged in the 1800s. It had been a response to the effects of Calvinistic Christianity on the health and well-being of Puritanical America. Donald Trump attended Peale’s Marble Collegiate Church as a child. He admired Peale’s robust, businesslike approach to Christianity. The engaging sermons lent a sense of cosmic legitimacy to his family’s brand of hyper-individualistic capitalism. https://youtu.be/hpqbMQj7bEQ The Next Stop on the Magical Thinking Tour This episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast is part of my meandering journey exploring the history of self-help. The Power of Positive Thinking is a valuable piece of the larger puzzle. It provides a clear context for the foundational role of American Christianity in a multi-billion-dollar industry. The book faced criticism when it was published. Leaders in the Methodist church described Peale’s followers as a cult that had ceased worshipping Christ and started worshipping success. Reinhold Niebuhr, author of the Serenity Prayer, said Peale’s teachings “corrupted” the Christian gospel. He argued Peale’s message was harmful to people. On the one hand, making them feel good, while on the other hand, stopping them from seeing and confronting the real issues at the heart of their struggles. In this episode, I refer to Barbara Ehrenreich’s 2009 book, Brightsided. Ehrenreich did an excellent job contextualising the book and outlining the history of Positive Thinking and its foundations in New Thought. The Calvinist Inheritance Positive thinking emerged from New Thought. This movement was in part a reaction to the dominance of Puritanical Calvinism in the formation of the United States. Predestination meant followers were subjected to a socially enforced depression. This centred on the limited number of seats in Heaven, which have already been allocated to those God had elected. This mindset could be said to have helped the Puritans survive the harsh conditions of the New World. At the same time, they struggled to endure the psychological demands of their own religious beliefs. The doctrine’s focus on sin, election, and damnation fostered chronic anxiety about one’s salvation, often involving severe inner terror and accompanying physical ailments. The Arrival of New Thought New Thought emerged as a response to religious melancholy, physical symptoms of despair, and the fear of eternal damnation. It proposed a new perspective on illness, viewing it as a disruption in the otherwise perfect and benevolent Mind that links all things in the universe. Although New Thought approaches to healing were ineffective against the infectious diseases devastating America at the time, they appeared to have a positive effect on those suffering from neurosthenia caused by religious depression. Mary Baker Eddy was one of Phineas Quimby’s patients. After Quimby’s death, Eddy founded Christian Science, transforming New Thought into an established religion. She taught that there is no material world, only Thought, Mind, Spirit, Goodness, Love, or, “Supply.” Illness and struggle are, therefore, temporary delusions of the mind rather than real material conditions. New Thought had cured the ailment of Calvinism and the “morbidness” linked to “the old hell-fire theology.” A new era was born, in which people were encouraged to utilise the universe as an answer to prayer and a grantor of wishes. What Remained But the transition from Calvinism to New Thought wasn’t clean. Ehrenreich suggests that Positive Thinking has retained some of Calvinism’s more harmful traits. Or perhaps we have reverted to it. There is a harsh, judgmental attitude that echoes the old religion’s condemnation of sin. Our preoccupation with productivity, hustle, self-optimisation, and personal performance carries more than a hint of the Calvinistic framework that historically tormented its adherents. This shift involves transforming a judgmental God from an external entity into an internal one, residing within us as part of ourselves. It fosters a constant sense of needing to do more to be worthy or valued. It is always striving to find an indefinable sense of well-being by improving, optimising, and controlling, as it micromanages increasingly smaller details of life, in the hope of achieving freedom, happiness, and salvation or healing. Splitting Ourselves in Two Positive Thinking splits us into two: a self to work on, and a self to do the work. We’ve all seen the ‘rules,’ worksheets, self-evaluation forms, and exercises offered in the positive-thinking literature. And our language reflects the internal division between the one who wants to change and the one who refuses to obey the rules. Peale identified the greatest illness of the twentieth century as the “inferiority complex.” With this, the enemy is within. It is us. Or at least, our thoughts. We modify ourselves through monitoring and correction until we reach conditioned automation. Unfortunately for Peale, he observed that reprogramming needs to be repeated frequently because humans tend to revert to negative thinking rather than maintain a positive mindset. This, however, works in favour of the self-help industry, which has endured for so long with many nearly identical books and programmes that repackage the same ideas with new metaphors and promises. When we believe an unsolvable problem can be solved, those promising to solve it have themselves a magic money tree. The Proliferation of The Self-Help Industry Norman Vincent Peale recognised the potential of Positive Thinking in corporate America. With an ever-expanding white-collar workforce, he observed that the most crucial aspect was the work done on oneself to be more acceptable and likeable to employers, clients, coworkers, and potential customers. Positive thinking was not merely a comfort for the anxious or a remedy for psychosomatic distress. It became a societal obligation, managed and mediated with great control. And, as we will see in the next part, this began to influence the psychological well-being of those in societies where the self-help and personal development industry was booming. We will also examine how Peale instrumentalised Christianity as a tool for personal ambition and material success. If you find these self-help explorations interesting and would like to chat about them with me and others, join us in The Haven. Meet other people working through their relationship with this stuff and to chat about ways we might move beyond some of the hooks and habits that trap us.

    25 min
  8. MAR 18

    Finding Ourselves in the Fog of a Hundred Shades of Beige

    If you’ve looked up stuff about the trait of high sensitivity online, you’ve probably been confronted by a sea of pastel colours and a hundred shades of beige. There’s nothing inherently wrong with those things. If that’s your bag, by all means fill it up. But other preferences are available, and I know a bunch of HSPs who keep their true colours hidden for fear of standing out too much. https://youtu.be/igNR0IRWmeY A Sensitive Love of Horror Movies I once wrote a post about my love for horror movies. Not the shock and gore types, but classic horror. The stuff that twists my melon, unsettles my relationship with reality, and leaves me thinking and trembling about it long after the credits roll. I fully appreciate that not everyone shares this particular proclivity, and that’s fine; I don’t expect them to. But I received a reply to that post from someone for whom this meant I couldn’t possibly be highly sensitive. And they really couldn’t grasp my suggestion that it is the very traits that come from my high sensitivity that spark my love of dark and mystery-filled art. I’ve never been particularly attached to the highly sensitive label. Whether or not I fit into the club is not a concern because I’ve never seen it that way. But I found it interesting that they couldn’t understand what I was saying. I see a strong link because my sensitivity (deep processing and absorbing subtle details) is the fuel for my engagement with those depths. I love dwelling in mystery, especially the kind that doesn’t have a simplistic reveal or explanation. Darkness and Definition My friend Tuula Ahde creates the most stunning macro ice photographs. They’re dark and mysterious. Every observer gives a different meaning to the colours and shapes within the images. Faces, landscapes, memories, dreams. You notice the sounds, stories, and hidden worlds within the ice. I know that Tuula’s sensitivity underpins and infuses her photos, shaping how she perceives the world and expresses her unique creative voice. Yet, her work contrasts with the subjects and colours typically associated with a creative HSP. Raven by Tuula Ahde – this became the cover image for my single, Sleep it Off I like music without a prescription for understanding it, and TV shows that avoid neatly tying every thread together. While part of me craves the pleasure of neat conclusions, clear interpretations, and full explanations of who the killer was and how the trick was done, the rest of me knows it’s far more enjoyable to dwell in the shifting landscapes of ambiguity beyond good and evil, conspiracies, and sinister motives. Towards something more chaotic. More complex and confusing. Dare I say, more human! An incomplete and contradictory picture filled with false-starts, miss-steps, and about-turns. The tendency to hold and enjoy those elements reflects my personal experience of sensitivity. And I know I’m not alone. I suspect it is this pull towards life’s more complex realms that leaves me feeling empty when I see high sensitivity portrayed through pastel colours and a hundred shades of beige. The kind found in therapeutic spaces, at least many of those I’ve encountered. Where art on the walls is soft and pale, lacking backbone, as if they are afraid to speak. I rarely find sanctuary in these colours. Instead, I find fog, where there’s no edge or hook to hang my hat. Like the politeness and civility that mask the truth. The Brightness of Fog This pale pastel fog appears bright, yet it is opaque. It conceals rather than reveals, compressing itself around the world instead of adding dynamism and depth. When you shine a light into it, the light gets reflected back. It sees nothing. Shining a light into the darkness reveals what lurks within it. Sometimes those things are hard to distinguish at first, but as our eyes adapt, we can see all sorts of things. A hundred shades of beige seem unassuming and bright, but they feel soulless and shallow. Lacking a defined edge. And if you’ve ever stood on a mountain in fog, you’ll know that brightness doesn’t equate to clarity. The edge could be just one step away or a hundred. Working In Funeralcare I noticed something similar when I worked in the funeral industry. Many people avoid discussing death, which is quite understandable. But not talking about something doesn’t make it disappear. I believe my sensitivity attracted me to that world. Not because I had a peculiar fascination with it, but because of the truth in it, which is often avoided, hidden, and whitewashed by euphemisms and shades of beige. We obscure the inevitable with platitudes and avoidance. Yet, there is creative energy to explore and harness in those realities we must face and accept, even as we resist and resent them. When I hear people talk about keeping things positive or avoiding negativity, I am always interested to know what they mean. There are those who would rather an inoffensive pastel painting of a sunrise or idyllic pastoral nature-scape. But there is a risk of pacification and an inaccurate representation of sensitivity as something fragile and easily broken. Rather than a way of experiencing the world in all its magnificent and mysterious depth. I love rich mahogany desks contrasted with dark green lamps and the orange flicker of candlelight. The shapes in shadows, whispers on the wind, and the scars, stains, and blemishes that hold stories. I like things that turn out to be more than they seem and invitations to explore. I like wondering about everything that happened here and wandering about on faded footprints. And I like the kind of surprises that take me along the trails, corridors, and tunnels that can’t be seen from the road. How about you?

    11 min
4.8
out of 5
85 Ratings

About

The Gentle Rebel Podcast explores the intersection of high sensitivity, creativity, and the influence of culture within, between, and around us. Through a mix of conversational and monologue episodes, I invite you to question the assumptions, pressures, and expectations we have accepted, and to experiment with ways to redefine the possibilities for our individual and collective lives when we view high sensitivity as both a personal trait and a vital part of our collective survival (and potential).

You Might Also Like