For many I speak with, it feels like the world is coming apart. Floods, fires, political turmoil, wars.
There’s constant division, outrage and tragedy.
A question many of us are holding - Is everything actually getting worse, or does it just feel that way?
Some global risks are increasing. It’s undeniable.
But what’s also increased even more is our exposure to what is happening.
We were never meant to carry the emotional weight of the entire planet, in real time, every day.
Our brains evolved for localised threats.
Now we’re absorbing global suffering before breakfast.
To add to this, we have a brain wired to focus on danger, algorithms that reward fear, and 24/7 access to everything, everywhere.
It starts to feel like an onslaught. So how do we stay informed without losing ourselves?
Not by switching off, not by endlessly scrolling, but by being deliberate:
🧠 Choose when you consume the news
🧠 Let go of what you cannot influence
🧠 Anchor locally, control things close to home
🧠 Balance exposure with regulation of emotions through movement, nature, breath, and connection
🧠 Remember that history looks chaotic when you’re living it
Control doesn’t come from worrying or trying to stop the storms.
It comes from learning how to stay steady and choosing to show up and control what we can control.
We can 'work at worrying or work on what is worrying us', our brain is going to work regardless of which one we choose to do.
Let’s talk!
We Must Feel & Express Our Emotions
Powering through, toughening up, putting on your professional mask, and pretending that you are fine.
How often do you spend time trying not to feel things?
The reality is that feeling and expressing emotion is one of our greatest strengths, and bottling emotions up inside is bad for us.
Every time we swallow a feeling, our body stores it somewhere - the chest, the gut, the shoulders.
Unfelt emotions accumulate. That’s where burnout, anxiety, and the 'I don’t feel like myself anymore' feelings can sneak in.
Letting emotions move is how our nervous system resets itself. It’s not weak.
Feeling our emotions actually makes us more creative, not less so.
Think about the last time your creative juices flowed. Were you freely able to be yourself, or were you holding an emotion back?
Creativity does not come from a blank mind; it comes from being connected to ourself, our experiences, our curiosity, and even our frustrations.
When we allow emotions to flow, ideas spark, and solutions appear.
If we want to innovate, we’ve got to feel.
So how do we start to express ourselves at work without oversharing?
It's easier than you might think. A simple, 'That was a tough meeting' or 'I was afraid of where that might lead us' can change the whole dynamic.
Here are a few examples:
✔️ Name what you feel (briefly) - “I’m feeling a bit stretched today", or “I’m excited about this.”
✔️ Pair the emotion with purpose - "I’m frustrated because I want us to get this right.”
✔️ Use inclusive language - "Did you feel, Did you notice, or Are you experiencing..."
Start small; these small moments of authenticity build trust over time.
We weren’t designed to be emotionless creatures; we were designed to be deeply feeling and deeply connected to each other.
When we allow ourselves to truly feel, we find clarity, creativity, connection, confidence, and maybe ironically, strength.
Not the brittle kind that cracks, the resilient kind that bends, adapts, and grows. Adaptable.
Be human again, it’s what we’re built for.
Let's talk!
We Feel The Pain Of Loss
Mt Maunganui.
A place of beauty, meaning, and connection for so many.
Today, the maunga carries a scar, a visible reminder of the fragility of our whenua.
That scar also speaks to something deeper.
The fragility of life.
Most of us feel the pain and loss of the families involved.
We grieve with them. We hold space for them.
The response teams have worked, and continue to work, tirelessly - with care, professionalism and heart - to return those lost to their loved ones.
This afternoon, I spent time running workshops with leaders from Tauranga City Council.
They are hurting too. Hurting for the lives lost. Hurting for the families.
Hurting as they see the strain and exhaustion in their people.
And yes, hurting from the extreme rhetoric being directed at Council.
The reality is this: people who work in councils care deeply.
They have big hearts.
They show up every day to serve their communities.
When a small sector of the community redirects their pain and anger toward Council, it is unwanted, unnecessary, and it causes harm.
Before posting, please pause.
You might be hurting too.
And while it helps explain behaviour, we must remember, hurt people may hurt people. But that doesn’t make it right.
Let compassion lead.
The photo is a view of the mountain from the council meal room, a daily reminder of the pain felt by many.
Want To live Longer, Do Difficult Things!
Want to Live Longer? Do Hard Things.
Most of us think that living longer is about eating well, exercising regularly, and having good genes.
Those matter, but there’s something else we can do.
We recently published a post on the importance of getting out of bed when we don’t really want to. It’s those things we don’t want to do that are counterintuitively good for us.
I recently listened to Dr. Andrew Huberman from Stanford University, and what he shared made sense.
Doing hard things, especially things you don’t enjoy but that are good for you, rewires our brains for resilience and longevity.
How does that work? Here’s the neuroscience:
🧠 Deep inside our brain is the anterior midcingulate cortex (aMCC) – the “mental gym” for motivation and persistence.
🧠 Every time you push through something difficult, you strengthen this region.
🧠 Why does that matter? Because the aMCC is critical for maintaining cognitive function as we age.
🧠 The data also suggests this practice may even help us live longer.
Huberman’s advice: do one hard thing every day that benefits you, even if you don’t want to do it.
It could be a workout, making that tough phone call, or tackling a challenging project.
Each time you do, you’re not just building discipline; you are building a stronger, younger brain.
Here’s something else I found fascinating: neurosurgeons have physically stimulated the aMCC during brain surgery to better understand motivation.
When they apply a tiny electrical current, patients often feel a sudden surge of determination, an urge to act.
This shows the aMCC isn’t just theory, it acts as a ‘switch’ for drive and resilience.
In clinical settings, stimulating this area helps treat things like chronic pain and addiction.
So, when you choose to do something hard, you’re giving your brain the same kind of workout neurosurgeons use to boost motivation.
Think about that: every hard thing you do today is an investment in your future self.
What is one hard thing you’ll do today?
Let’s talk!
Thank you NZ Woman's Weekly!
Police negotiator Lance Burdett shares his own personal traumas
Lance Burdett was a builder before joining the police at 35 and training with the FBI to become New Zealand Police’s top crisis negotiator. He rose to national prominence after his role negotiating with the volatile Napier siege gunman Jan Molenaar, who was holed up in his home in 2009.
After two decades on the frontlines – where Lance suffered from burnout, depression and suicidal thoughts – the 67-year-old left and used his personal insights into mental resilience and workplace stress to become an author, coach and motivational speaker.
Lance Burdett was a builder before joining the police at 35 and training with the FBI to become New Zealand Police’s top crisis negotiator. He rose to national prominence after his role negotiating with the volatile Napier siege gunman Jan Molenaar, who was holed up in his home in 2009.
After two decades on the frontlines – where Lance suffered from burnout, depression and suicidal thoughts – the 67-year-old left and used his personal insights into mental resilience and workplace stress to become an author, coach and motivational speaker.
With a passion for neuroscience, Lance, 67, and his wife Donna, 65, began a business called Wellness, Awareness, Resilience and Negotiation (WARN) International, based in their coastal home north of Auckland. They are parents to three adult children, Danielle, Haley and Josh, and grandparents to Sophie, 14, and Henry, 11.
As a son of military parents, what was your childhood like?
Mum and Dad met in the Air Force and had both experienced difficult childhoods. So in those days, because the war had just finished, “kids in the system” were just thrown in the military when they turned 16. Two broken kids from broken families came together and had me! As a kid, I got up to a lot of mischief. I didn’t know I had ADHD then. We moved around a lot because of the Air Force – Whenuapai, Bulls, Te Rapa. My mum kept my report cards from Bulls’ school, which were the first indication that things weren’t right with me. I was disruptive in class, couldn’t focus and needed to pay attention. All I knew was I didn’t fit in anywhere and I didn’t have any real friends I could rely on.
Were you a rebellious teen?
Hell, yeah. Even though I had a pass to go through secure areas of the Air Force base, I went through the creek and under the fence for the thrill of it. Why would I take the gate and sign in? I did lots of shoplifting out of boredom, too. I remember smoking a box of cigars over three months that a friend stole. But I never had any run-ins with the police.
What did your ADHD diagnosis do for you?
Any form of neuro-divergence alienates you from the world, but you don’t know why. Having the diagnosis really does bring a sense of calm. I’m happier now than I’ve ever been. Anger was my default up until a few years ago. I would just yell because no one would understand me. It wasn’t until I started studying neuroscience that I walked into the office and said, “I think I’ve got ADHD.” My daughter Haley goes, “Ya think, pal?!” They had diagnosed me years ago. I used to wonder why the police picked me to be on a whole lot of different selection panels. They told me I thought differently and asked unusual questions. I’ve now accepted I have a different brain from others.
How did you switch off from an intense day on the frontline?
I used to think a couple of drinks will help – which turns into a few more drinks. Very soon, it was a bottle a night to try and stop the negative thoughts.
When did you think it was becoming a problem?
I didn’t. Two years ago, Donna and I went over to Japan for a wonderful holiday.
We were in the airport lounge waiting for our flight to Tokyo and I said, “Champers?” She said, “No, I think I’m going to give up drinking. I don’t like it any more.”
I remember looking at her and going, “What?!” But I said, “Okay, I’m with you,” and secretly hoped that by the time we got over there, she’d be like, “Okay, just the one.”
But no, she stood firm. And we’ve never had a drink since.
And you know what? Everything has fallen into place since that time. Because alcohol or drugs mask who you are, mask your problems. I’ve learned emotions must come out or they just fester.
You’ve been called “the highest qualified negotiator within New Zealand Police”. What about at home?
No! Any time I would try a negotiating technique, Donna would shake her head and say, “Don’t use that s**t here.”
Donna’s been on the journey with me. She’s seen changes. On our 45th wedding anniversary in March, I said, “Thank you for still being with me” because I would have left me a long time ago.
How did your children feel about their dad being involved in high-conflict situations?
The first time I realised my job was having an impact on them was when my son Josh was 10 and at primary school. The TV news showed Winston Peters naming me in Parliament when I was running witness protection. We had a witness who went rogue. Most witnesses in the programme were criminals, so we used a false name and that was accidentally used in court. It slipped through the cracks.
Winston said, “And as for Senior Sergeant Burdett, falsifying evidence to support a criminal…” My son asked Donna, “What’s Dad in trouble for? Dad’s a good person, isn’t he?”
While working as a crisis negotiator, you hit the pit of depression. Were there signs before that?
I noticed there was “madness” in my head. Every little thing was massive. Everything I had done as a child was front of mind. Now I know, after studying neuroscience, it’s the brain going back through your memories for references to your past, trying to help you. I remember watching [British crime drama] Peaky Blinders where there was a quote spoken by a character that reflected his mental state and constant self-criticism: “It’s just myself talking to myself about myself.” That was me! It got me thinking.
Who did you first tell about having suicidal ideation?
The police chaplain. He was really understanding and said to me, “Believe it or not, I’ve been where you are.” Here was a person next to God who’d still been in the same place. I felt relief. We did a common exercise that’s used in psychology, writing thoughts down, then burning the paper. But it didn’t work for me.
So what helped?
I found my support in a wonderful psychologist who has since passed from cancer. He diagnosed me with accumulated stress disorder. I hadn’t dealt with stress in my life, and I’d held on to it. We did lot of brain exercises like visualisation techniques. I’ve now learned that I’m an empath – someone who gets hurt very easily, and feels other people’s pain and joy. A lot of people who have depression are empaths yet they don’t know it.
If you were in the police now, how would you approach your mental health differently?
I would open up to Donna a lot more about what I’d seen. Because when I came home, she would ask, “How was your day?” I’d answer with, “It was all right, but I don’t want to talk about it.” I wanted to switch off and forget about what I’d seen. No one at work would talk about it either. We didn’t have debriefs. I went to my boss for help when I was a detective sergeant struggling with three major High Court cases. His reply was, “We’re all under pressure. You’ve just got to dig in.” So I wore the uniform, but beneath it was a frightened inner child screaming for help.
And the long hours created a perfect storm for burnout and feeling isolated?
Correct. I used to see leave like a bank account – the more leave you have, the more you can fall back on. But not taking leave caused me to fall over. Or any time I applied for leave, it wasn’t approved. It was the late 1990s – a time in the Auckland police where there was so much work. One night shift on the crime squad would usually be one rape and two robberies. That’s three serious crimes a night. But there wasn’t a propensity to use guns, like is happening now. I’m hopeful the Crime Squad will return because it was the best training cops could ever get.
What’s something people might be surprised to know about you?
That I still have huge imposter syndrome even after writing three books, completing three diplomas, and a Master’s in terrorism. I have plans to write a fourth book on communication skills. Maybe it comes from not getting a School Certificate. I got 48, so I nearly passed, but my parents couldn’t afford to pay for a recount.
Do you have regrets about going into the police force?
Never! It was the best thing because I learned to learn. My only regret is not spending more time with my family. My mum wanted me to stop in for a cup of tea one day and I said I was too busy. She died the next day. That was horrible.
What did your 22 years of service teach you?
There is strength in vulnerability and to look for moments of joy because life is precious, fleeting, and unpredictable. You don’t have to stop and smell the roses, but take a quick look or a moment to register them. The mantra I live by now is: take nothing for granted and hug your family.
Drink of choice these days?
You can’t beat a cup of tea.
For more information about Lance’s coaching and workshops, visit warninternational.com.