We are used to thinking that if we loosen our grip for even a second, everything will collapse. We control contractors, children, husbands, logistics, schedules, and even our own rest.
Once, during a strategy session, the owner of an IT company, Anna, told me: “Even on weekends I plan everything down to the minute. Breakfast at 10:00, massage at 11:30, exhibition at 14:00. If the massage therapist is five minutes late, I start shaking. My rest is ruined!”
I looked at her and asked: “Anya, do you realize that you’re not actually resting? You’ve just transferred your management style from the office to the spa.”
For women living in chronic control-induced tension, the best antidote is not psychotherapy in a cozy office. The best antidote is столкновение with something that cannot be controlled in principle. —> The best antidote is an encounter with something that cannot be controlled at all.
That is precisely why I choose places like Kamchatka for my retreats and reset trips.
Kamchatka is not just a beautiful edge of the earth. It is the perfect training ground for shaking up neurotic control.
There, the ocean does not ask about your morning plans. If a cyclone arrives, the helicopter to the Valley of Geysers will not fly. And it doesn’t matter how many millions you have in your account, what your status in Moscow is, or how loudly you can demand service. You simply sit and wait.
For a city businesswoman, the first day is a shock. The brain panics: “What do you mean it’s canceled? Let’s solve the problem! Who do we pay?” But you can’t pay the ocean. You can’t negotiate with a volcano.
And then, on the second or third day, a neurophysiological miracle happens. When the nervous system realizes that its fuss changes nothing, it… surrenders. And in that surrender lies an enormous resource.
Cortisol levels drop. The muscular armor softens. A woman suddenly notices how delicious the herbal tea tastes. She notices the smell of the wind. She begins to laugh—not with a polite social laugh, but genuinely, deeply.
She understands something crucial for business: the world will not collapse if I stop holding it up.
Many managerial crises arise because we try to break through a wall when we simply need to wait out the storm. Nature teaches this better than any business coach. It shows that real strength is not the ability to bend everything to your will. Real strength is flexibility—the ability to adapt to the environment and maintain inner silence while a storm rages outside.
If you are tired of everything resting solely on your shoulders, go somewhere you decide nothing. Give yourself the luxury of being a small human being against the backdrop of great nature.
Believe me: you will return to the office a different kind of leader. One who can distinguish a real problem from the noise of the wind.