Welcome to The Clarity Lab. I’m Betty, and this is how I went from a life of overwhelm to slow, intentional living. It started with burnout—and a quiet decision to change everything.
The Relentless Pace of 'On'
Let me take you back to what it felt like to be constantly on the go, unable to switch off. Around 2019, my days were a blur— emails constantly pinging, phone calls and unannounced visits from people demanding my attention, and the relentless pressure of a never ending to-do list. Can you relate?
Running The Wood Yard, a social enterprise I built from scratch in 2011, I was deep in it: operations, strategy, finances, team management. In big organisations, each of those would be a department, but I was attempting it all, with limited resources and no space to pause.
I’d get home around 7 p.m., already behind on everything I hadn’t touched. Evenings were for more work, more thinking, more strategising. And when I finally got to bed, my mind wouldn’t stop racing. At first, that buzz came from ambition and excitement. But over time, it became about proving something—to myself, and to others. I thought this was a necessary part of the job, but I was wrong. I just didn’t know it yet.
Behind the scenes, things were crumbling. I’d been supporting a loved one through recovery, avoiding the grieving of multiple pregnancy losses, and dealing with the fallout of a staff member defrauding the business. On top of that I’d been people pleasing my way through it all, though I had no awareness of this at the time. And eventually, I ran out of steam.
From Noise to Inner Stillness
It didn’t end in a dramatic fallout (that came later, with the nail in the coffin of my people pleasing era)- it began with a quiet, clear decision to step away. I booked a flight and got out. I went to Chile to visit an old friend, putting as much physical distance as possible between me and the life that was draining me.
I remember sitting in her apartment in Valparaíso, tea in hand, and feeling still for the first time in years. The frantic loop of 'what's next?' in my mind finally quieted. No fires to put out. No mental noise. It was in that quiet, sipping my tea, that a profound realisation dawned: my stress wasn’t an internal battle; it was a relentless echo of my environment.
A few weeks later, on the remote island of Rapa Nui, staring out at the Pacific, the second wave of clarity hit. I couldn’t go back—not to that role, not to that structure. I didn’t want to be a manager of people. I’d built myself a job that I never wanted. The self-inflicted hierarchy, the 9–5, the pressure—it was more than exhausting. It was misaligned with who I really am.
And then, a week after I got home, lockdown began and I never had to return to that version of my life again.
Rebuilding with Intention
I carried the project through the first two years of the pandemic, then stepped back from the day-to-day. I handed things over to an ops manager. It didn’t go as planned. The business took a hit. We were threatened with closure. But that whole experience taught me what it means to live my values in real time—specifically, the value of well-being over relentless productivity. It meant having the courage to restructure the business, adapt to unexpected setbacks, and stay aligned with my true purpose even when things felt like they were falling apart.
I started therapy. I went deep. I unpacked years of suppressed trauma and emotions. I began studying the science of stress, mindfulness, and the body. I learned how stress rewires us—and how to gently rewire back.
That’s when my coaching journey began. I’d had coaches throughout my time at The Wood Yard, and I felt first hand how powerful that support could be. I started training to become a certified coach, learning how to guide people through transitions and help them access their own answers. It felt familiar—like the peer-to-peer action learning I’d done with other social entrepreneurs. Coaching practice began to give me the language and tools I needed to slow down and really listen. First to myself, and then to others.
Crafting Clarity: The Lab's Origin
The Clarity Lab began with one core realisation: clarity is often missing—from our lives, our work, and the way we make decisions. I had to get radically honest with myself about why I was doing what I was doing. I wanted to build something that reflected my own evolution—something honest, useful, and rooted in lived experience.
I’m still at the beginning. But what I’ve learned so far has changed me deeply. I’ve become more spiritual. I’ve explored tools and practices that support nervous system regulation, emotional resilience, and intentional living, from breath-work and somatic practices to journaling and mindfulness meditation.
For years, I offered my support to people freely, often at my own expense. Now I’m creating a way to keep going—sustainably, without burning out—so I can continue to show up and offer more: practical resources, one-to-one coaching, and a curated wellness shop, with lots of ethically sourced goodness. This journey has cracked me open in ways I never knew possible, and I want to share what’s helped me find my way again.
A Message for the Overwhelmed
To anyone feeling burned out, or stuck—know that you are not alone, and a way out of the overwhelm exists. The healing requires courage, honesty, and a readiness to dismantle the systems that led you there.
The most powerful starting point? Your own habits and behaviour. That's where true change begins.
I've learned invaluable lessons, compiling practices, techniques, and resources I'm eager to share. This work is continuous, and I'm here for it.
The Clarity Lab is a lifelong commitment, reflecting my journey towards slow, intentional living and unapologetically prioritising my wellbeing, and it's here to support yours too. If my story resonates, please join our community here and share your own stories below.
1 comment
Sounds like you’ve found your path!