The Raw Reality of Being Self-Employed
In August it was three years. Three years of running my own business. Self-employed, no staff. It passed by quietly, without me even realising I could have celebrated it — with a bottle of children’s champagne (because I don’t drink) and a few paper garlands.
Looking back over those three years, I’ve done some wonderful things. A major project with the Dutch National Police on victims’ rights. Guided a team at Epilepsy NL. Coached several people in my private practice. It gives me a deep sense of fulfilment.
I absolutely love my work — and the space and freedom that come with being self-employed. But oh, how it can sometimes feel like a torment.
I’m not the kind of coach who preaches “Do as I say, not as I do.” I’m human. I have my own patterns, wounds and insecurities that still surface from time to time. I grew up in a boomer-generation household where the motto was, “Get a good education and work hard, and you’ll be fine.”
And to be fair, that’s served me well for a long time. My Mind thought that was a very sensible way to live. And that same Mind still knocks on the door now and then to ask, “Eh, hello? Are we still here?”
The art, I’ve learned, is to invite my Mind in for a cup of coffee — but kindly ask it not to interfere. Because that’s exactly what it likes to do. My Mind — and I prefer that English word to our Dutch verstand — loves to meddle in my life.
Maybe that sounds familiar. It’s what most of us were taught. We even made proverbs about it. “Wisdom comes with age.” Yes, it does. And with age, the Mind has often been the very thing that’s given me the most grey hairs. Just like now.
Because as a self-employed person, you need clients to pay the bills. That’s the little prison I built for myself. Owning a home means having a mortgage — which basically says: “Right, we’ve got you under a roof for the next thirty years, young lady.”
But shelter isn’t everything. Our bodies need food, water, warmth. Houses need maintenance, gas, electricity. The so-called fixed costs. Nothing new under the sun — it’s our shared reality. Whether we like it or not. And mine, too. It’s just as simple as that.
But how honest are we about that? About how complicated it can all feel sometimes. Without turning it into a complaint or a drama. Without pointing fingers or punishing ourselves by dutifully listening to our Mind.
Who dares to say out loud that it takes courage to live the way you were meant to live? That it’s often a lonely road?
Few people do. Nor do I, always. But it helps to say it every once in a while.
To pause and acknowledge that life isn’t only success and sparkle, but also sheer persistence. Not because hard work is difficult — I have no problem with that. But because the pressure of the Mind, that constant voice thinking it knows what’s best for me, is an ongoing challenge. The Mind never stops.
The challenge is to keep it where it belongs — next to me, at the table, with a cup of coffee. As a companion for thinking. For clever comparisons. But not as the driver of my life.
Because when the Mind takes the wheel, you often end up on roads full of bumps that were never yours to travel. I’ve learned that the hard way — and it wasn’t pretty.
So just look at it. The raw reality of being self-employed. Most of it lives inside your head. And that’s exactly where it can stay.
These days I use my Mind to study, to enjoy everything that brings me space, and to sink, now and then, into the uncertainty of it all. To simply let it be, without needing to do anything about it.
How good does that feel.
Reflection – Living the Mechanics
The process
This morning I opened my online accounting software and saw that I’m getting a VAT refund. That’s a clear sign that my expenses are currently higher than my income — and my Mind took the opportunity to start teasing me.
Whenever that happens, the best way for me to deal with it is to write. Simply put, to name the raw reality of self-employment. As a blog for my newsletter called Het Systeem.
So this piece was written in response. While writing, I could already feel my emotional wave shifting — from “ah well, it’s really not that bad when you put it into words” to the full recognition that yes, sometimes this path of entrepreneurship really is tough.
After moving through all the layers of that wave came the moment of publication on LinkedIn. And once it was out there, it felt relieving — as if something heavy had lifted from my shoulders. That sense of: “Right. That’s out of my system. Now back to work.”
Work, in this case, means preparing for my upcoming assignment with the police in December — a project on victims’ rights. Next week I have a meeting, so I want to prepare well. Finish the presentation. Check if there have been any changes in legislation that I shouldn’t miss.
I haven’t worked with this material for about six months, so it needed a refresh. And when I felt into my motivation — Fear — everything made sense. In emotional clarity, it was perfectly aligned.
Because for me, fear doesn’t mean panic. It means depth. It means thoroughly researching, making sure the foundation is solid, so that when I share my heretical message, I can stand behind it fully.
And that message will be exactly this: bringing the conversation back to the true purpose of police work — to uphold the law, yes, but most importantly, to serve the citizen. To act for the people, not just according to the rules. And certainly not to ignore those rules out of convenience or fatigue.
What does this say about my process
as an Emotional 5/1 Manifesting Generator with Motivation Color 1 – Fear
That this is how it moves.
The wave builds, questions, clears, and then crystallizes into form.
What begins as fear becomes precision.
What starts as doubt becomes integrity.
And what once felt heavy becomes fuel for truth.
The deeper you go into the mechanics, the simpler it becomes.
Follow your strategy. Honor your authority. The rest takes care of itself.
Human Design, Emotional 5/1 Manifesting Generator, Motivation Color 1 Fear, Emotional Authority, Emotional Wave, Living the Mechanics, Ra Uru Hu, BG5, Self-Employment, Reflection, Coaching, Police Work, Victims’ Rights, Strategy and Authority, Fear Motivation, Emotional Clarity, Marykeigh Coaching, The System Blog
Curious to explore your own rhythm?
Book a reflection session via marykeighcoaching.nl or send me a message. I’d love to take a look with you.
The Bottom Layer
I picked up my coffee cup and looked inside. A thick, muddy layer of coffee remained. I pulled a seemingly disgusted face, and my daughter, sitting across the kitchen table, grinned. "The bottom layer," I said. She gave me a knowing look in return.
I have a recurring morning ritual. Brewing fresh coffee. With filtered water and hand-ground beans. The coffee is Douwe Egberts*. A tradition I brought with me from home. My parents used to drink (and still do) Douwe Egberts. So now when they visit me, they get to enjoy one of my strong cups. Because that’s what they are. I love a strong brew.
These rituals – brewing coffee in the morning, that thick residue at the bottom of the cup – make me realize how attached I am to traditions and routines. Something I usually like to deny, because hey, life should be a bit more exciting, right? Try something new every day, travel whenever possible, discover different parts of the world and all that life has to offer. Nothing worse than a boring life, right?
Well, no. Actually, I love that so-called boring life. The kind that gives me peace. Trust in recurring patterns that have always been there and that somehow reassure the future. It’s only when things get truly intense and survival kicks in, that the lioness in me awakens...
*Not sponsored by Douwe Egberts, but be honest… don’t you hear that cozy harmonica jingle from Toots Thielemans right now?
Reflection through the lens of Human Design
Gate 37.5 – The Family
My bond with tradition, with family, with care. Not as confinement, but as grounding. The coffee ritual at the kitchen table isn't just a habit – it’s an energetic anchor. A form of love through structure.
Gate 5.1 – Waiting
I am designed for rhythm. For endurance. For recognizing natural cycles and finding peace in them. This blog is rhythm – and it shows how peace doesn't mean dullness, but richness.
Gate 35.1 – Progress
The experience of life – even in its so-called 'boringness' – is progress. Not by moving around, but by going deeper.
Gate 34.3 – Power
The lioness. My inner survivor. She lives in me and only comes out when truly needed. No ego, no drama. Just pure force when it's called for.
5/1 Profile – The Heretic and the Investigator
This blog tells a personal story, yet it touches something universal. That’s my role: to help you see something in yourself. And to investigate it – again and again – for myself.
The bottom layer... that's where your Design becomes tangible.
Not as theory. But as Life in form.
Human Design, Blog, Reflection, Gate 5, Gate 34, Gate 35, Gate 37, 5/1 Profile, Survival, Rhythm, Emotional Process, Leadership, Boring Life, Aura, Structure, Family, Coffee, Self-awareness
Curious what your own chart reveals?
Book a reflection session via marykeighcoaching.nl or send me a message. I’d love to take a look with you.
AI without dots, mom!
Whenever I talk about AI, my daughters always correct my pronunciation. “Mom, it’s not A.I. with dots. It’s just AI, like one word.” A subtle moment where the generational gap reveals itself. I’ve always had a bit of a love-hate relationship with artificial intelligence. Because I adore the human experience, and AI isn’t exactly about being human. Still, now and then, something piques my curiosity.
This morning I read an article about a new AI technology, developed by a former Harvard professor. It described a system called North Star, which (according to the article) uses digital simulations of world leaders to run thousands of scenarios—supporting strategic decision-making and helping to prevent escalation. “Well, that’s quite the noble ambition,” I heard myself say aloud. “On paper, it sounds impressive. Maybe even beautiful. If it can truly bring less turmoil into our world, that would be wonderful. Who wouldn’t want that?”
And yet… something started to nag at me. What really lives underneath this? Why would someone want to develop this? And how does this land in a society where many people probably share my love-hate relationship with ‘all that modern stuff’? Surely I’m not the only one. I notice it in the sheer amount of writing about it. Especially about what it might mean for our future. A kind of collective fear: “What if AI takes over? What if we’re no longer needed? If everything becomes smarter, faster, more efficient — and there’s nothing left for us humans to offer?”
This fear is being fed. By media. By markets. By systems that thrive on uncertainty. And honestly? I think that’s a bit criminal. Not because I’m anti-technology — quite the opposite — but because fear is so often used as a steering tool. While fear itself wants to teach us something. But it seems we’ve forgotten that. That we no longer receive fear as a signal. But instead experience it as something to be defended against. With sword and shield. Or… we become completely paralyzed, instead of moved.
But what if we stopped seeing fear as the enemy, and used it as a gentle teacher instead? What if fear doesn’t mean something is wrong or threatening, but instead shows us what’s ready to be released? Something that might offer us something — rather than take it away?
We’re perfectly capable of that. Humanity has shown it over and over again. Every time we’ve faced pressure, we’ve found ways to move. Not by selling our soul. But by remembering it. Honoring it. Living it.
And that’s exactly where this kind of technology — no matter how brilliantly designed — shows its limitations. Humans are more than logic. We’re abstract, with memories that give meaning to experience. We’re individual, with insights that have never existed before. Instinctive, with ancient wisdom that senses danger in an instant. Intuitive — with a quiet clarity that feels what’s true, without needing words. We’re beings of connection. We heal, learn, and grow in relationship.
If you try to capture all of that in a predictable model, you’ll miss the essence: the mystery of being human. Any attempt at control — no matter how smart — will always be incomplete. Maybe even… affectionately said… destined to fail.
Because this is what AI will never do:
Feel grief.
Suddenly know something for no reason.
Be struck by inspiration.
Feel a silence that buzzes.
Love without logic — and open everything.
AI recognizes patterns.
But life...
Life moves beyond the pattern.
We’re not here to be controlled by technology.
We’re here to use it consciously.
As an extension of who we are.
Not as a replacement.
And as long as we keep doing that,
no algorithm will ever take the place of a human being.
And that — that’s incredibly hopeful.
Maybe we’re not here to predict the future.
But to embody it. One moment at a time.
And maybe that’s the whole point of AI without dots.
Reflection through the lens of Human Design
Gate 37.5 – The Family
My love for the human experience is woven into everything I write—even when I’m talking about technology. I see through the surface. I notice where connection is missing. And I bring it back to where it truly belongs: closeness. Sitting together at the table. Soft in interaction, strong in foundation. This newsletter is my way of bringing people back together—not physically, but through frequency.
Gate 5.1 – Waiting
I’m built for rhythm. I hear when something is aligned. When it’s time to speak—or time to pause. This piece wasn’t rushed. It needed to ripen. And you can feel that. Every sentence breathes cadence. The cadence of someone who doesn’t need to stand on barricades to initiate movement.
Gate 35.1 – Progress
I carry experience. Not just as a story, but as nourishment. I’ve seen how humans transform under pressure—and I trust that deeply. My words carry that reassurance. Not as a promise, but as a reminder: we can do this. We’ve been here before. And again and again, we found a new form.
Gate 34.3 – Power
My power doesn’t live in noise. It rests quietly in my gut until it’s time to rise. When I speak, it’s because it feels right. Because it must be said now. Not to convince, but to open a field of truth. Not threatening. Just clear.
5/1 Profile – The Heretic and the Investigator
I’m asking a question many people feel, but haven’t dared to name yet: What if we don’t fight fear, but learn from it? My Fifth Line allows me to reach many. My First Line won’t let go until I’ve felt the roots. This newsletter is not an opinion. It’s an exploration. An invitation. And at the same time, a beacon of recognition—for those ready to receive it.
Left Angle Cross of Migration
I’m here to bring movement. Between worlds. Between the old and the new. Between technology and soul.
And I don’t do that through noise or performance, but through quiet clarity.
In this blog, I bring awareness to something that might otherwise silently seep into our lives. I shine a light on it. Not to warn, but to remind:
We always have a choice. Even when everything moves faster than ever.
That’s my frequency.
No embellishment. No static.
Seeing Through the Emptiness
Today I saw a photo by a photographer who captures people as an art form. Not that unusual, observing people is an art.
I looked at the images and was struck by a deep sense of sadness. A kind of heaviness, melancholy. The series showed about ten black-and-white photographs: families, friends, workers. Ordinary people in everyday settings. But with one striking detail: the screen was removed. No phone, no tablet in sight.
What remained was painfully raw. The empty, hollow look in their eyes. The utter absence of real connection. No contact, no warmth. Just the imprint of what used to be between them and the world. It hit me deeply. It was so spot-on.
A picture sometimes says more than a thousand words. You could write a hundred blogs about screen addiction, but these images showed something words can't touch. And yes, they sparked that brief awareness: "Starting tomorrow, I’ll put my phone down. I’ll truly engage with the people around me again."
But then it’s tomorrow. And there you are... back in the pattern.
It made me feel deeply sad. It stirred a wave of longing. For the past, when this didn’t exist yet. Sure, we were distracted by other things then too. But this... this constant digital noise, the pressure to post, the hours lost in shallow entertainment. It feels so tangibly empty.
And I’m not exempt. My phone is everywhere. My daughters spend hours watching two “cool dudes” talking about nothing.
“This holiday is awesome, mom!” they say. And in a way, it is. But it also hurts to witness how we’re slowly numbing ourselves. How time is no longer experienced but endured.
How do we break through that? Can we still change it? Or is it already too late?
There are no easy answers. But I do know this: the sadness, the melancholy, they come and go. They move with my emotional wave. When I feel low, I turn to creation. I write. Because I know:
This too shall pass.
And only when you dare to feel,
can you truly see through the emptiness.
Human Design Reflection
Gate 37.5 The Family
My longing for connection is not a romantic ideal. It’s biologically hardwired. I feel it when something resonates between people. And I feel it when it doesn’t. In this blog, you can sense my heart break over what once felt natural: closeness.
Gate 40.5 Deliverance
I know what it means to give. Unconditionally. But I also know when it’s too much. When the exchange becomes one-sided. This piece carries that wisdom. Love needs boundaries to remain whole.
Gate 57.4 Intuition
I see things before they’re visible. In a glance. In a subtle shift. I feel the emptiness behind the screen. Not in my mind, but in my entire system. And I speak it without judgment. Because I know it’s true.
Gate 35.1 Progress
I know nothing stays the same. That even this phase (the digital trance) is just a cycle. My words are a gentle nudge. Not forceful, but invitational. And if you read them, you might sense: I’m not alone.
Gate 5.1 Waiting
I never write just because. My timing isn’t mental, it’s felt. This piece came through during a low point in my emotional wave. Because that’s where it ripened. And I know: there’s beauty in waiting, if you dare to feel.
5/1 Profile The Heretic and the Investigator
I ask questions that don’t need answers. Because the inquiry itself holds value. This blog isn’t a statement. It’s an invitation to reflect. For those who dare to face it. The emptiness, and themselves in it.
Left Angle Cross of Migration
I bring movement. Not through action, but through awareness. This blog isn’t a judgment on technology. It’s a reminder of what lies beneath. Of what we lose when we stop feeling.
I’m here to bring that feeling back.