Practice Repair

Hello,

I’m later than usual sending this.

Half-term has come and gone. We’ve all had colds. I still have one now. My son has been revising for exams - which brings its own stress into the house. Work has continued, but in fragments. Energy has been lower.

This morning, with a mug of coffee, I was snipping the brown tips from our spider plant. I rotated it a quarter turn so the light could reach it evenly.

A small, almost insignificant ritual.

But it felt important.

Repairing.

Not optimisation. Not acceleration. Not performance enhancement.

In 2026, our theme is burnout. We’re exploring practices that help systems endure, not just perform. One principle keeps returning:

Repair is not occasional. It is continuous.

There are finite games (targets, deals, quarters) and infinite games (ongoing, adaptive, enduring). Healthcare, like all sectors but maybe even more so, requires repair.

The pressures are real. Workloads grow. Time is scarce.

But overwork has become the default. Busyness feels productive. It signals value. It shields us from harder questions. Constant motion can stop us from asking whether we’re doing what truly matters.

Stopping is hard. Repair is hard. Not because it’s complex - but because it disrupts the identity of busyness.

In our work with individuals and organisations, we return to our three stage process - the Soil, the Tree, the Forest.

Stage three is the Forest.

On the forest floor, systems are dense and interconnected. You must understand roots and pathways; complex systems cannot be casually adjusted.

But if you never rise above the trees, you lose perspective.

From the canopy, patterns emerge. You see where growth is crowded. Where light enters. Where space is needed.

Organisations serious about culture must move between detail and altitude - ground and canopy - complexity and clarity.

Repair is like a clearing in the forest, where light floods in.

It might be five minutes between clinics. A protected handover. A colleague saying “I can do this, practice a little Repair.”

Not indulgence. Maintenance.

I was speaking recently with a senior clinician who realised, only in hindsight, that he had probably been in burnout. He was offered a seminar. It may well have helped, but at that moment it was almost the last thing he needed.

Often, what people need in burnout is not a seminar, but permission - to pause, to be relieved, to slow down without shame.

Repair is rarely dramatic. It is turning toward the light. Conserving energy when it’s low. Designing systems with intentional clearings.

Without clearings, everything competes and exhausts itself.

Repair doesn’t halt the organisation. It allows energy to return.

Burnout is not solved by intensity. It is addressed by practice - repeated, quiet, often unseen.

In the infinite game, the question is not whether we will need repair.

The question is whether we will practice it.

If this resonates with you, take a look at how we work, it may help you Repair.

Warm regards,

Mark