Every time you set an intention, disruption follows

Reader

Every time you set an intention, disruption follows.

Not sometimes. Every time.

It's almost like a test. You decide who you want to become, and then life immediately asks: are you sure?

I was sitting across from my CFO.

He'd flown in from the States. Specifically to have this conversation. Because word had got around that I was leaving.

I'd spent years in finance. I was good with clients, good with numbers, good with strategy. And the people above me knew it.

He put an offer on the table with more zeros than I'd ever seen. A fast track to becoming a CFO. The kind of opportunity most people spend their entire career working towards.

After everything my family had navigated, the financial pressure, the uncertainty, the sacrifices, it was tempting. Deeply tempting.

But it wasn't aligned with where I was headed.

I'd spent over fifteen years pouring into people on the side of my "real" job. Coaching. Developing leaders. Building something that felt bigger than a title. And I'd finally set the intention to step into it fully.

This offer wasn't opposition. It was something more dangerous.

It was a magnet, dressed up as an opportunity, pulling me away from true north.

I said no.

And then the real pressure kicked in.

Long notice period. No flexibility. Bills to pay. A wife. Two kids. School fees. I was the main breadwinner. Every single one of those realities whispered the same thing: go back. Stay safe.

Let the intention quietly die.

Here's what I've learned about disruption.

It rarely shows up looking like a threat. It shows up looking like a reasonable alternative. A safer path. A sensible choice. The kind of thing that makes everyone around you nod and say "that makes sense."

And that's exactly why it works.

Because your brain is wired for safety. When pressure hits, you don't default to your intention. You default to autopilot. And autopilot runs on fear, conditioning, and every pattern you've been building since childhood.

The MindsetShift logo is a compass. At the centre is a brain.

Here's the thing about compasses. Place magnets around them and they stop pointing to true north.

That's what happens to us. We set an intention. We know where we want to go. But the magnets, the fear, the voices, the comfort of what's familiar, they pull us off course. Slowly. Quietly. Until we're heading somewhere we never chose.

I see this in organisations every day.

Leaders set real intentions. Build cultures of trust. Create psychological safety. Put people first. And they mean it.

Then the chaos hits. Restructuring. AI disruption. Budget cuts. Quarterly targets. Stakeholder pressure. The kind of complexity that doesn't wait while you figure things out.

And autopilot takes over.

The leader who intended to listen starts dictating. The team that intended to innovate starts protecting. The culture that was supposed to be people-first becomes survival-first.

Beautiful values on the walls. Fear in the corridors.

The intention was real. But the magnets won.

What kept me grounded ten years ago were two things. My faith and my wife. Not cheerleaders. Anchors. People and principles that held me steady when everything else was pulling me off course.

You need those anchors. Because the magnets will come.

So let me ask you this:

• What's the magnet that's been quietly pulling you away from your true north?