There is an old legend about a knot so complex and so tightly wound that no one could untangle it. Many tried. They all failed. Then Alexander the Great approached it, assessed it briefly, and sliced straight through it with his sword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His action was decisive and efficient. And sometimes, that is exactly what courage looks like. There are seasons in life and in business where the bravest thing we can do is cut the knot. Close the door. Resign from the role. Say the hard no.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not every problem requires lengthy analysis. Not every knot deserves months of emotional labour. Sometimes clarity comes through a clean break. But here is the part worth exploring: not every knot is made from rope.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some knots are dainty gold necklaces. Have you ever tried to untie a knot you\u2019ve gotten in your necklace? It requires great patience and often even more irritation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And if you take a sword to a gold necklace, you do not just solve a problem, you damage something precious and valuable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In my work as a coach, I see this tension often. The urge to end something quickly because it feels overwhelming. The desire to detach, to simplify, to move on. And sometimes that instinct is protective and wise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I recently worked with a leader who felt ready to walk away from a role she had once loved. The team dynamics had become strained, trust had been broken, and every day felt heavy. Her instinct was to cut the knot quickly, to resign and start somewhere new.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But as we slowed the conversation down, it became clear that this was not rope.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was gold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The role mattered to her. The mission mattered. The relationships, though tangled, were not beyond repair. What was needed was not an exit, but honest conversations, clearer boundaries, and the vulnerability to address what had gone unsaid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The process of untangling was slower and more uncomfortable than leaving would have been. But over time, the knot loosened. Trust began to rebuild. And her leadership role became deeper and more grounded than before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Untangling a fine chain takes time. You sit with it. You turn it gently. You loosen one small loop at a time. It can feel frustratingly slow. There is no dramatic sword moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And yet, when you finish, the necklace is intact.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In coaching conversations, this is often the real work: discerning whether we are facing rope or gold. Are we choosing speed because we are clear? Or because we are uncomfortable? Are we cutting because it is truly time? Or because untangling feels too vulnerable?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The next time you find yourself standing before a knot in your life, pause before you reach for the sword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ask yourself: Is this rope? Or is this gold?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Warmly, <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" There is an old legend about a knot so complex and so tightly wound that no one could untangle it. Many tried. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":2319,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2318","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n
Christine Wilke<\/strong>
Consultant Coach & Founder, Inspiravit Consulting<\/p>\n\n\n\n