Navigating the Spikes by Elizabeth Blackley

You know that feeling when a date in the calendar marks the culmination of a life goal, and after all the hard work, it finally arrives?

And as it does, a sledgehammer lands?

On the 11th of May, I woke with a low hum of excitement as it was Launch Day for my book, ROW Your Business to Health. There was no party planned, but a virtual launch with my publisher had me running an indulgent bath while wondering how best to mark this milestone.

I needn’t have given it airtime. The day was instead marked by an email from BreastScreen Victoria. I’d had my routine screen a few weeks prior and confidently assumed this message was the all-clear. 

But it was not.

They wanted to see me sooner than the usual two years. Ten days.

The letter acknowledged this news might be shocking and dismaying. I agreed. I thought of my sister and cousin – both survivors – while also thinking, this cannot be my story. Which, I imagine, is what every cancer patient thinks before the doctor turns with that expression in their eyes. 

BreastScreen Victoria provided a number that I rang immediately, only to hear that someone would call back ‘after 2pm’. In six and a half hours. A very long time to, as my therapist likes to say, ‘sit with it’. 

The bath water ran, my thoughts whirred: How will I tell my children? What will this do to my business? Will I lose my hair? Will I die? How do I help prepare my daughter for life-long vigilance without scaring her? Why is the success rate higher with prostate cancer? Is this the beginning of something dark? 

All this – forever tied to Book Launch Day.

A fan of irony, it was not lost on me that I was thrown a curve the very day I was launching a book about mental health. Existentialism and teleology aside, the coincidence felt heavy-handed. In the pages of my book, I question whether individual resilience is what carries us through high-pressure moments – I could have foregone this real-life test. 

With my therapist’s voice in my head and knowing no one was available on Monday morning, the bath felt fortuitous; there I sat at 8 am, grading how I was ‘handling’ this dichotomous day. All luxury stripped away, I judged myself, mentally awarding points for meeting commitments and deploying support strategies that I would encourage others to use. 

My head rolled on the towel as if watching a tennis match play out on the wall. Water cooling around me, I desperately tried to implement the pause, to shift my thoughts from panic and recklessness to decisiveness – even as I knew there was nothing I could really do.  

Turns out, planning can produce laughter. How ludicrous we are – so fond of convincing ourselves we are in control of this time, these bodies, carefully curating what failures and triumphs we let through our filters. That email did not give a fig about my filtering system. It announced plainly that I am fallible. Fragile. Exposed to whatever is swirling ‘out there’. 

My head tangled and I burst into tears. Then:  Enough! Loud, echoing off the tiles. I must speak to another soul – and, truly, this is not the job for a friend or relative. This was a job for a professional. My therapist was unavailable; but all I wanted to do was talk about my feelings without restraint, until it was emptied out of me. 

The good work of my morning meditation, yoga and bath was undone. I was ricocheting from laughter to sobs to shouting at myself. Things were not well. 

Valid, in light of events. But inconvenient with a virtual launch that afternoon. It stays on the internet forever, but no pressure.

Australia is lucky to have Beyond Blue. Bernadette answered my call quickly. 

I told her I was not at risk of harming myself or others but was not having the best of days. I was angry. I’d wanted a special day, and it had been cruelly yanked from me. What followed was twenty minutes of release about multiple frustrations and concerns which, once manageable, tipped into something more catastrophic with this news. Mostly, Bernadette let me unburden until I no longer needed to. 

After hanging up, I saw BreastScreen Victoria flash across my screen – they were calling back earlier than expected. A cancellation had popped up at St. Vincents for the very next morning. Did I want the spot?

Four-hour appointment, 8:30 am start. Please eat beforehand. A crisp reminder that 80-90% of women dance away from these appointments, and I was alone again with my thoughts.

A friend rang and promised that though she couldn’t drive me, she would collect me afterwards with food. She reminded me of her friend who had caught her cancer early, had treatment, and never lost her hair. 

I felt steadier; enough to manage the launch.

I share the spikes of this day with you because for me, they validated that in addition to individual resilience, we all need support to be able to deliver. And more importantly, our environment must make it possible to access and accept this support. 

When fear threatened to overwhelm me on May 11, I was gratefully reminded of the pillars of support that exist in my life, that were established not by happy accident but through hard work and commitment. I don’t know what I would have done without them, but I was reminded that fragile or non-existent support systems are a reality for many facing traumatic, stressful situations in both the workplace and broader society. 

That day was a big one for me; I was a woman with goals, managing difficult information. Yes, our habits help keep a healthy body and mind – but our minds fluctuate in response to stimulus. When the stimulus creates a spike, we need awareness and support to ensure our decisions make sense. One friend insisted I schedule an uber to take me to the appointment; I would not have thought to do it, and it was a very peaceful journey letting someone else manage the road.

To put readers’ minds at ease, the outcome the next day allowed me to join the dance party, and it became one of my most vibrant days. An awareness of one’s fragility sharpens the moment, but I wouldn’t recommend it as a mindfulness technique.

—

Elizabeth Blackley, founder and managing director of NeoConnections, brings The Pause into organisations seeking clarity, connection, and better ways of working. Working across Australia and the United States, she applies a global perspective to designing environments and practices that leverage human energy for greater creativity, wellbeing, and stronger results.

ROW YOUR BUSINESS TO HEALTH

I warn you now: this is not your typical business book…each sentence carries its weight…across neuroscience, psychology, contemplative traditions and practical workplace experimentation. – Steven Puri

Healthy people; healthy outcomes.

While employment is essential for survival today, it rarely holds the highest honour in our priorities, and the traditional notion of work-life balance oversimplifies a much more complex reality. We need to move beyond the industrial-era model that shaped our current systems and begin designing work cultures based on what we know supports, and what hinders, human performance.

This book invites readers to reconsider how the experience of work is formed – from the rhythms influencing daily life to the environments that affect behaviour, energy, and clarity. Grounded in behavioural science and systems thinking, it explores the impact of building workplaces around the conditions in which people genuinely thrive.

A Return on Wellness (ROW) occurs when investment in people strengthens clarity, energy, and psychological safety; these are the drivers of resilience and consistent performance. Organisations that cultivate these conditions gain steadier results, stronger engagement, and cultures able to meet complexity with confidence.

For those reimagining the future of work, this is an offering of practical and human insights that align culture, environment, and performance. When applied deliberately, the business can leverage their ROW and sow sustainable results.

Let’s build businesses where people and performance thrive together.

BUY HERE

Tags: featured, women writers

Category: On Writing