Jump.Global Helped Me Find My Centre Again

I arrived at the Jump.Global Summit with a quiet hope that I might find some steadiness again. I’d written in my journal before we kicked off that I wanted to release the stress I’d been carrying, find my centre, and maybe even see myself with a bit more clarity. I also knew that none of that was going to happen unless I made space for it. I needed to breathe, stop being so hard on myself, and let whatever was meant to shift actually shift.

The funny thing about setting an intention like that is you never know how it will unfold. I joked at the opening dinner that my mission for the week was to cry at some point. I didn’t expect to be as right about that as I was.

What struck me from the very start was how open the rooms felt. There was an honesty in the air that made it easier to meet people where they were and to let myself be seen too.

The first rule of Jump Global is that you don't lead with what you do. This forces you to connect on a much more human level; one where we're all equal and we don't get to hide behind the ego of our jobs or accolades.

I’d been told by people who had attended previous years that the summit only works if you throw yourself in; and I took that seriously. If there was something to participate in, I participated. If something made me uncomfortable, I went anyway. And if a moment felt like a mirror, I tried my best not to look away (which was easier said than done - literally).

One of the first real shifts came during the session about the questions that change your relationship with money. Watching someone on stage tackle their own patterns with such honesty gave me permission to drop my guard for the rest of the week. It was like the whole room exhaled at once. I realised that if I’d understood the five money archetypes back when I was earning a big salary, I probably wouldn’t have blown so much of it. That’s not regret so much as recognition. At least now I know why I made those choices, and I have something to build from rather than hide behind.

The improv session was a different kind of revelation. When I’d read the description beforehand it made me feel physically sick. Which, of course, meant I had to do it. Stepping into something that confronting turned out to be one of the most rewarding hours I’ve had in a long time. It shifted my perspective so quickly that I’m still processing it. I left with new tools, new confidence, and a reminder that stepping toward discomfort is often where the real growth waits. If I’m honest, it probably was life-changing.

Then came the hypno-breathwork, which opened the second day in a way I wasn’t prepared for. And no one expects anything so transformative to happen at 7:30 in the morning! I’ve meditated for years, but the guided visualisation caught me completely off guard. It made me think about my future in a different way, not the near-term decisions but the long arc of where I want my life to go. It also forced me to confront a difficult truth: most of the hurdles I’ve faced have been ones I built myself. Self-defence, old patterns, a dozen coping mechanisms that once protected me but now hold me back. That realisation brought tears, but they were the happy sort that come with relief. Some things I’m not ready to write about yet, but the shift was real and I’ll be working with it for a long time.

I loved how grounded some of the sessions were too. The one about small ripples and big waves gave me practical tools I’ve already put into practice. It reminded me of kaizen, those small steps that compound over time. Nothing dramatic, just the kind of tiny adjustments that quietly reshape a life.

The mirror workshop took me somewhere much deeper. I threw myself into it completely, even though it was deeply uncomfortable. That discomfort unlocked things I’d been denying for years. It showed me how often I lie to myself in the name of protection, and how much space I could create by dropping those stories. Like so many parts of the summit, it was just the beginning of a longer piece of work. But it was a powerful beginning.

There were moments of pure joy too. The transition workshop helped me think more clearly about where I’m heading. And the session on moving from courtship to contract had me laughing more than I ever have at a conference. It was clever, generous, and surprisingly heartfelt in its own way.

Around all of this were the people. Warm rooms, real conversations, and a kind of collective optimism that felt contagious. I shared openly about my sobriety in a few of the exercises, and the parallels between that journey and the broader work we were doing kept revealing themselves in ways I didn’t expect. It made everything feel more connected, more grounded in what’s real rather than what’s performative.

By the end, I felt incredible. Not in the loud, euphoric way that fades overnight, but in a steady way that made me think, you’re back. Or at least, you’re finding your way back. I also knew I needed space afterwards. I didn’t want to sprint into a hundred new habits and burn myself out. I want what I learned to settle so I can carry it forward in a way that’s sustainable and repeatable.

There aren't enough words to thank Nick and his team for what they were able to pull together.

This was, I'm almost certain, the best conference I’ve ever been to. Thoughtful from start to finish, structured in a way that allowed real transformation, and full of people who seemed genuinely invested in positive change. I can’t wait for next year’s summit. I know now what throwing myself in can do, and I’m excited to bring even more of myself into those rooms next time.

And maybe I'll even do karaoke at the closing party...

Maybe.