Rise and Shine 2026

In my East African lineage, it is customary at the turn of a New Year to tell a story—one that sets a tone, carries wisdom, and bodes well for what lies ahead.

What came to mind this year is one of my favourite teaching stories. It has been told in many forms over time, yet it feels especially relevant to the world we are living in now. It has undoubtedly shaped how I think about change, resolution, and what genuinely brings peace. And the New Year, of course, is traditionally a time for new resolutions.

Stories are powerful. They shape the fabric of our inner and outer lives. Storytelling sits at the heart of East African culture and is often used to convey a very precise point: that meaningful change does not always require force or excess, but rather the right intervention at the right time.

Long-term therapy has its place and its value. What I am interested in, however, is understanding where movement is already possible within a person or a system—and how a well-placed intervention can unlock what is already present.

This brings me to the parable often referred to as “knowing where to tap.”

The Parable: The Engineer and the Hammer

A large and complex machine—sometimes described as a ship’s engine, sometimes a factory boiler—has broken down. Numerous experts are called, yet no one can restore it to working order.

Eventually, an old engineer arrives. He listens carefully to the machine, places his ear against it, takes out a small hammer, and taps one specific spot—once. Immediately, the machine springs back to life.

When the engineer later submits his invoice, the owner is outraged by the amount, pointing out that the repair took only a single tap.

The engineer responds with a detailed bill:

• Tapping with a hammer: £1

• Knowing where to tap: £9,999

• 
  

The story is not about the hammer.

And it is not really about the money.

It is about discernment. About experience. About understanding the deeper workings of a system—human or otherwise.

Much of personal development focuses on effort—doing more, trying harder, pushing through. There is another strand of work, quieter and more precise, that asks a different question: where is movement ready to happen?

My work, and the resources here and on my website, sit at this later point in the journey—where insight becomes integration, and change no longer needs to be forced. It is often here, when the right place is touched, that life begins to move again on its own. And peace follows.

What’s ahead in 2026?

I am looking forward to continuing my work with you, the community. I am in awe of everyone who participated in the workshops in 2025. I am humbled by those who came with the intention to join but did not feel ready or sufficiently supported to stay. The door remains open.

I bow in gratitude to the men and women who opened their hearts and shared their vulnerabilities and strengths.

2026 is a powerful and promising year for systemic change, healing, and growth. I trust that together we will continue to take brave steps towards making peace with the past so that future generations can be emancipated from mental slavery to stand confidently on their own two feet and step into leadership roles with a strong sense of pride and confidence in their worth and value. Let us honour the memory of all our ancestors.

We Stand on the Shoulders of Giants.

I look forward to seeing you in the field.

One Love

Zita.