Reading, relating and acting on the signs

Remembering an incident last Mother's day that caused a lot of anguish last year. All because I didn't read, relate to, and act on a sign.

Yesterday, on Mother’s Day, I saw a Facebook post where someone was warning people about cars getting flooded in Twickenham.

It took me right back to Mother’s Day last year, when I ignored a very literal sign.

I remember seeing the sign warning about the risk of flooding where I’d parked. But I was in too much of a rush to get to our lunch to really process it.
“It won’t happen to me,” I thought.

This is despite having seen cars flooded in Richmond—and occasionally in Twickenham—for over 15 years. I used to laugh at those idiot drivers.

After a lovely lunch, I went to get the car and saw the river had risen. I told the family to wait on higher ground. As I reached the car, it didn’t look too bad.
Then I opened the door.
Water—pooled inside, all the way into the footwells.

I managed to start it and drive it to higher ground. But I couldn’t get it started again.

The next morning, I was due to fly to Tokyo. I hadn’t even packed.

Somehow, I stayed calm. I got the family home on the bus, packed, then returned that night to get the car towed—just in time to avoid a parking ticket.

We’d actually been thinking about buying a new car. Our old one had done a loyal 12+ years. But we’d decided we couldn’t afford it last year.

I hadn’t realised it would be written off, or that dealing with it from Japan would be such a pain. Or that buying a new car would cost so much, putting us in debt to a kind parent—and elsewhere.

The literal signs were there. I just didn’t read them properly—or appreciate the consequences.

And I didn’t read my inner signs either:
The financial warnings. The quiet discomfort. The feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

It’s easy to say, “That won’t happen to me.”

But how often do we ignore the small signals—emotional, physical, intuitive—telling us something’s off?

Sometimes we don’t read the signs because we’re afraid of what they might mean.
Sometimes we feel trapped by what we think we should do—by societal norms, external expectations, or our own self-imposed limitations.

What if we could read the signs more clearly?
What if we could relate to them better—or even trust them?

What if we appreciated both the positive and negative consequences of listening?

What if you trusted those little nudges, those feelings, those thoughts you often suppress?
• What would you do differently?
• Who might you become?
• How would you stay on that path, even when resistance kicks in?

Much of the coaching work I do (even in strategy and design consulting) is about tuning into signs—literal and figurative. The weak signals within and around us, as well as the stronger ones dictated by others.

But it’s not just about reading the signs.

It’s about relating to them.
Choosing what to act on.
And sometimes, choosing to let them go.

That often takes courage.
And a non-judgemental atmosphere.

I hope you find ways to read your own signs—and relate to them—so you can act accordingly.

And maybe you won’t flood your car.
Or worse.