Last week, I listened to a speech given at Davos by Mark Carney.
He spoke about the rupture of the world order — how old assumptions, rules, and agreements no longer carry the same meaning or implications they once did. And how continuing to behave as if they still do requires a kind of collective pretending.
Referencing Václav Havel, he spoke of living in truth — not playing into systems we don’t truly believe in. Not because we are rebellious. But because we don’t have to continue pretending.
That distinction stayed with me.
But in truth, this reflection didn’t begin at Davos.
When “Normal” First Cracked
The idea behind No Ordinary February has been with me for much longer — since the period when we were slowly emerging from the pandemic.
Back then, the phrase “return to normal” was everywhere. As if normal was a place we could simply step back into.
But something had already shifted.
Life as we knew it — the version we rarely paused to question — had been interrupted, altered, reconfigured. And in that disruption, many of us were given a rare pause to look at how we lived, how we related, what we valued, what we endured, and what we had quietly accepted as “just how things are.”
There was no normal to return to. Only choices about what we would continue — and what we wouldn’t.
That moment changed how I relate to time, cycles, and especially beginnings.
Why February, and Why “No Ordinary”
Over the years, I noticed something in myself.
I no longer felt aligned with treating a new year as just another new year.
The familiar narrative is deeply ingrained:
• fresh resolutions
• new goals
• a better version of yourself starting now
And yet, somewhere underneath, many of us sense that this rhythm doesn’t quite hold anymore.
Not because change isn’t possible. But because change that comes from obligation, pressure, or collective expectation often fades as quickly as it arrives.
February, for me, became a quieter counterpoint.
Not a month of fixing. Not a reset. But a pause — a space to question what we keep calling normal without ever revisiting whether it’s still true.
The Subtle Power of “Normal”
Most of us don’t live untrue lives because we are dishonest. We do it because we’ve absorbed norms that were never consciously chosen.
What’s normal:
• to stay busy
• to stay composed
• to be agreeable
• to function well
• to fit in
Normal is rarely imposed. It’s internalised.
And for a long time, it keeps us safe.
Until one day, something feels off — not dramatically wrong, just quietly misaligned.
A low-grade tension. A background fatigue. A sense of performing normal rather than inhabiting truth.
Before Discernment, There Is Permission
We often assume the issue is a lack of discernment. But what if that’s not the case?
What if the real obstacle is that exercising discernment still feels threatening?
Because somewhere along the way, conforming became confused with:
• being agreeable
• being likeable
• being acceptable
• belonging
And not conforming — even quietly, even inwardly — can still register as risk.
Risk of disapproval. Risk of exclusion. Risk of no longer fitting into what once felt familiar.
So perhaps the work doesn’t begin with knowing what’s true. Perhaps it begins with an internal permission to stop pretending.
An Invitation for No Ordinary February
This month isn’t asking us to change our lives. It isn’t asking us to decide what comes next.
It simply offers a pause to question.
Where might you still be conforming — not because you believe in it, but because it once kept you safe?
Where have you mistaken fitting in for belonging?
What feels normal in your life that no longer feels true — even if you don’t yet have words for it?
