The potatoes are in

Every year for twenty years, Good Friday has meant potato planting. When we had the allotment in London, it became an annual ritual. Digging the heavy clay that dominated our plot right at the top of Peabody Hill at Rosendale Road Allotments meant caked boots and aching backs, but also happy days.

Then life moved us around for a bit. We gave up the allotment, left one city for another, rented for a while, but now, at last, we have had raised beds constructed in our new garden. An allotment at home.

The allotment raised beds were thrown together from whatever old wood was available: scaffolding planks, offcuts, used packing crates. Our new ones are solid enough to sit on, with high enough walls to make it easier to stand upright after a few hours' weeding, and they're filled with the kind of crumbly topsoil that Monty Don would envy. No clay in sight.

Alongside the seed packets and the smell of new earth, this week has marked not just Easter, but also the start of a new financial year. Even though I've been a marketer and communicator for most of my working life, I find promoting myself and my business, ChangeOut, disproportionately hard.

I don't think I'm alone in this. Talking about what we do, what we're good at, what we've built, feels different when it's personal. When I was working in organisations, advocating for a cause or a team or a programme, felt natural, just a core part of the job. But when I try to turn that same energy towards myself an unhelpful niggly voice starts up, telling me to say less, dial it back, asking me who on earth I think I am.

I noted the new financial year by posting on LinkedIn about the evolution of ChangeOut. Simple enough, you might think, yet I sat with that draft far longer than I should have, worrying that people would find it boastful, or judge it somehow. I posted it anyway. The truth about social media is hardly anyone really notices anything you post but I've been thinking about that hesitation ever since, because I don't think I'm alone.

So many of the leaders I work with, particularly women leading in the charity and public sectors, are brilliant at making the case for their organisations but become invisible when it comes to making the case for themselves. We've been trained, implicitly and sometimes explicitly, to put the cause first and ourselves last. Which is admirable, up to a point. But it also means that talented, experienced people are chronically underselling themselves, undercharging, and underestimating the value of what they bring.

The cost of that isn't just personal. When the people with the most to offer are the quietest about it, it affects who gets heard, who gets hired, and who gets to shape things.

This week, almost unnoticed amid the violence of the 24 hour news cycle, the Artemis mission sent humans further from Earth than we have ever ventured. Looking back at our home from that distance, the whole of our shared history fits inside a pale blue marble. Every argument, every career, every war, every birth, every anxious LinkedIn draft, every voice that says shush. All of it, barely visible. There is something both humbling and oddly freeing in that.

I'm not sure if I have an answer to pushing past that voice of self-doubt but I do know that the starting point is noticing the voice. Recognising whose voice it is speaking to you - in my case my own - and then deciding whether you're going to listen to it today or just do the thing.

The potatoes are in. The new financial year has started. Bravo to the Artemis crew.

We will explore. We will build ships. We will visit again. We will construct science outposts. We will drive rovers, we will do radio astronomy, we will found companies. We will bolster industry, we will inspire. But ultimately, we will always choose Earth. We will always choose each other.

Christina Koch, Astronaut Artemis II

What am I reading? 📚

I read Dept of Speculation by Jenny Offill. Dark, clever, and funny.

What am I watching? 👀

I live in Birmingham, so I had to watch the new Peaky Blinders film. The resemblance to real Brummies, living or dead, is accidental.

Listen out for the cover of Massive Attack's "Teardrop" by Girl In The Year Above.

What am I listening to?👂

Arlo Parks has a new album out, Ambiguous Desire.

Joy-giving things 😍

The Real Seed Company is my favourite place to buy seeds. They sell open-pollinated, non-hybrid seeds so you can save your own seed from the plants you grow and they also have unusual and heritage varieties.

They also have a seed-packet filling machine on their YouTube channel that is one of the most pleasing things I've watched this week. Small, mechanical, rhythmic perfection.

Wishing you a good weekend. Get outside if you can. Maybe even put something in the ground.

Lucy

ChangeOut is created by Lucy Caldicott. You can find more about my work at ChangeOut.org.

If you're a purpose-driven professional wondering whether coaching might help you think through where you are and where you're heading, I'd love to hear from you. I'm opening up coaching spaces later in 2026. Express your interest here.

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