A collective reflection from GoFish! Collective
By Joanna Staniszewska with Katrin Shaw, François Knuchel, and Brett Sadler
In a recent GoFish! Collective conversation, we didn’t set out to discuss time. But like many important things, the topic emerged on its own — uninvited but necessary. We found ourselves sitting inside a shared tension: calendars that overflow, meetings that stack, minds that race ahead of presence.
I named a feeling I’ve encountered often:
“It’s not the meetings that exhaust me. It’s the thought of a full calendar. The anticipation of being tired.”
That reflection opened a door. We began exploring the illusion of time scarcity — not as a logistical issue, but as a relational one. What truly drains us isn’t always the doing, but the expectation that we must operate in constant motion. And what might open up if we began relating to time differently?
Space is not empty. It’s essential.
As the discussion unfolded, it became clear that what we often label as “slowness” or “waste” might actually be where our best work happens. Space is where digestion happens. It’s where emergence can breathe.
Katrin Shaw brought humor to the paradox by pointing out how her excitement for change was slowed by the physical task of packing boxes that simply didn’t match the vision. The form and the flow weren’t aligned. It was a reminder that even as we move toward transformation, we’re working within systems — and sometimes the container resists the contents.
François Knuchel observed that many external distractions — digital noise, spam, AI interference — are symptoms, not causes. The deeper work lies in how we meet those interruptions. Where is our attention? And do we truly take responsibility for how we give it away?
Planning vs. presence
When the topic of control emerged, I voiced my own discomfort. The tension between naming things in advance and allowing ideas to unfold is familiar.
“I often don’t choose a title. I start writing, and the shape shows itself.”
This sparked collective reflection: How often do we ask things to name themselves too soon? How much do we miss by locking in the form before the content arrives?
There is no clean resolution. But what became clear was this: Emergence is not the opposite of structure — it’s what happens when structure becomes a vessel, not a cage.
The collective field
Each person brought something different — a fragment of experience, a grounded insight, or a probing question. And together, these fragments formed something more.
Not a solution, but a way of being in the unknown together. A willingness to co-sense, co-hold, and co-create from what is real now — not just from what is scheduled or predicted.
We don’t need to slow down for the sake of it. We need to create space for what is truly trying to emerge.
