Speaker #0Today I'm going to do something a little bit different. It's coming up to Christmas and rather than tips or frameworks or next steps, I wanted to offer you something more reflective, something creative and a little bit fun and something close to my heart. I'm offering you a regenerative take on one of my favourite Christmas stories, Charles Dickens' Christmas Carol. If you know the story, then you'll recognise the shape of it, and if not, don't worry, just sit back, listen and enjoy. So, are you sitting comfortably? Then we'll begin. Here is part one, The Ghost of Overworked Christmas Past. The room fell still, the clock on the wall, long since ignored in the name of just one more email, seemed to hold its breath. And then, from the hallway, a figure emerged, thin, pale, wrapped in profit targets and monthly quotas that clanged together like iron. I am the ghost of overworked Christmas past, it whispered. Its voice carried the stale smell of forgotten lunch. breaks and midnight laptop glare. Before Ebenezer could reply, the world shifted. Suddenly they were standing in an air-conditioned office, Ebenezer's old office, where LED lights glared mercilessly long after the cleaners had gone home. And there was Ebenezer, younger but already tired, hunched over a desk strewn with plans and projections. Shouldering the impossible responsibility of proving worth through output. Observe, the ghost said. Ebenezer watched as the minutes of Christmas Eve bled away. And still they worked, alone, away from family, because the quarter was closing and the minimums must be met. You believed this was ambition. The ghost murmured, but it was fear in festive dress. All around, the scene flickered with other memories. December after December, each marked by the same pattern. The deadline that could not be missed. The new year launch that demanded attention. The daily depletion disguised as dedication. The ghost leaned close. These were choices made in innocence, it said. They built a life where rest was rationed and joy postponed. Ebenezer felt the truth of those words and shuddered. The office dissolved. The quiet room returned. The ghost lifted a bony finger. There is nothing to correct here, it said softly. only something to understand chains scraped across the floor then fell silent ebenezer was alone once more but not perhaps quite the same as before that story didn't come from nowhere it was shaped by two Real and poignant client stories that I have heard quite recently, both about Christmases that should have been restful, connective, joyful, and weren't. One client told me about a Christmas Eve spent upstairs, alone, working against a deadline. Her husband and young son were downstairs, wrapping presents, watching films, laughing together, and she stayed at her laptop because... Project needed to be finished. A project that today she genuinely cannot remember. But the feeling of missing that evening, that has certainly stayed with her. Another client worked almost the entire Christmas period, year after year, not because they wanted to, but because their organisation mandated a major New Year launch every January, which meant that Christmas was never really Christmas. It was fragmented, snatched moments here and there, and underlying stress. They told me they never questioned it. They'd been so thoroughly programmed to... meet expectations, to deliver, to be reliable, that it didn't even occur to them that this wasn't inevitable, even though it made them feel sad and exhausted every single year. And this is the thing, whatever Christmas means to you, whether it's family, quiet ritual, faith, food, or simply a pause, we all need rest. Not a few hours here and there, but extended periods of genuinely stepping back. Time where work simply stops. Where the nervous system can settle, where relationships come back into focus, and where celebration has space to exist. This is where meaningful work comes in. Because meaningful work, by definition, must make room for life. It must be compatible with rest, with family, with humanity. And that is what we explore deeply inside of the Meaningful Business Incubator. Not just what you build, but how it allows you to live. But that's not what this episode is about. It is about simply noticing. So my invitation to you as this episode closes is a simple one. This holiday season, Really step back. Question what is genuinely necessary. Notice what feels automatic but no longer feels right. Ask yourself what will matter more to you when you look back. Not next quarter, but years on from now. And if you can, be brave enough to switch off properly. In the next episode, we'll meet the ghost of burnt out Christmas present that will be available on Christmas Eve. And then the final episode, the ghost of meaningful Christmas future, will be with you on New Year's Eve. I wish you a joyful, restful and connected holiday season. But for now, simply rest, and I'll see you next week. If this episode of From Corporate to Calling was helpful or inspiring, follow the show so you don't miss an episode. And if you know someone who's questioning their career, send them this podcast. Lifelines are meant to be shared. Remember, you don't have to tolerate burnout or misalignment. You can redirect your skills into meaningful work that brings back life to you and to the world around you.
