I’m noticing something about myself at the moment. I’m less interested in momentum and much less interested in proving things. Less interested in speed for speed’s sake and much more interested in health.

Not wellness in the Instagram sense. But the slower, more uncomfortable kind. The kind that asks whether what you’re building can actually be carried by people other than you. Over the last few weeks, my days have been full of small signals rather than big moments.

People who are done waiting for government, already organising, fundraising and very willing to offer time, connections, space, belief.

That energy is familiar to me. I recognise it immediately. When I say we’re averaging two people a day, I don’t mean walking through the door of the Hub. I mean two people a day reaching out directly. Wanting to sit in the space. Wanting to give back. Wanting to fundraise. Wanting to connect their networks to something that feels real.

It’s relentless in the best possible way.

The Hub itself is now averaging around 300 people a week. With the launch of our new Wellbeing Wednesday programme, we’re forecasting closer to 500 a week by the summer. People not consuming a service, but finding support, relationships, and a sense of place in the middle of real life.

That progress matters. I don’t want to overstate it, but I also don’t want to underplay it. It hasn’t come from campaigns or noise. It’s come from staying.

I entered community work angry. Not performatively angry. But frustrated, impatient, deeply pissed off by how slow systems move while people’s lives don’t.

Some people experienced that version of me up close. There were a few sharp edges. Big opinions and a sense that if things weren’t moving, I’d push harder. That energy wasn’t wrong and I don't apologise for pushing, but it wasn’t sustainable on its own.

What I’m learning now is that there’s a difference between anger and healthy impatience.

Anger burns hot and fast. Healthy impatience stays. It commits. It builds something others can step into.

At the Citizen Hub, I’m seeing this play out in real time.

People aren’t arriving because they’ve been persuaded. They’re arriving because something exists that doesn’t require permission. Some have just moved to town. Some have been watching quietly. Some arrive because a friend told them, “you should go there”.

They don’t all share the same politics, they don’t all agree on solutions. But they share a refusal to sit on the sidelines.

What I find increasingly curious, is how little convincing is required. When the infrastructure is real, people recognise themselves in it. That’s been one of the biggest leadership lessons for me recently. You don’t need to shout or persuade endlessly. You need to create something sturdy enough that people can enter.

I used to believe leadership meant driving. In the last few years, I’m learning it often means stepping aside early enough that others can take responsibility without asking permission.

That’s harder than it sounds and it requires patience. It requires letting go of control. It requires trusting that not everything needs your fingerprint on it to be “right” and patience doesn’t come naturally to me.

I still feel the pull of urgency, the weight of what isn’t working fast enough. I still get angry when I see people stuck waiting for systems that aren’t coming, but I’m learning to hold that energy differently.

Not as something to discharge. But as something to aim.

Healthy impatience says, “We’re not waiting.” But it also says, “We’re staying.”

It’s the difference between starting movements that burn out and building infrastructure that people grow into. The progress is real. In February alone, Inspire 2 Ignite is preparing to recruit at least three people, possibly five, over the coming months. We’re raising funding for three more Citizen Hubs. That means more teams, more responsibility, more people trusting what we’re building.

I don’t take that lightly and I’m deeply grateful for the people around me who put up with my intensity, my questioning, my refusal to wait quietly and my insistence on doing things properly.

Right now, that’s the work I’m committed to. Less noise. More depth. Less reaction. More trust.

If I’m honest, January has been as much about my own leadership as it is about community.

Learning when to push. Learning when to pause. Learning that doing things “right” often looks slower from the outside, but feels calmer on the inside.

That’s the signal I’m paying attention to, not how fast things are moving. I want to know we're going to be healthy enough to last.

My message to my team and community, continue to be unreasonable with me if it means we are shifting the progress up a gear for people around us.

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