It Gets Dark at Lunchtime… and Somehow That Got Me Thinking

You know that moment in late November when you suddenly realise it’s basically dark by lunchtime, the heating’s clicked on for the third time today, and your to-do list is behaving like it’s in open rebellion?

That’s where I’m at.

I’ve already counted how many official working days are left until Christmas — and let’s just say… it’s not many.

Not enough to do everything on the list.

Not even enough to do half the list, if we’re being honest.

This is the time of year when the “end-of-year spiral” kicks in.

You’re meant to finish strong, reflect on the year, plan for the next one, and be festive… all while trying to remember what actual daylight looks like.

But this year, instead of fixating on the ever-growing to-do list, I’ve been drawn to my ta-da list — a simple Miro board where all my completed post-its end up.

Every quarter I move tasks over one by one, partly for organisation, partly because it just feels good to see a bit of progress in among the chaos.

And at this time of year, it’s become a quiet little reminder of what’s actually happened over the months.

Looking at it properly, I realised that all those tiny tasks — the ones that felt small or routine at the time — have somehow built something quite real.

A shape.

A direction.

A business that’s developed more than I’d fully appreciated.

Each little post-it represents a project, a conversation, a bit of problem-solving, a moment of clarity… and together they show how much Jessanol has grown this year.

How many different pieces of work have fed into its identity.

How every chat with a client, associate, or fellow business owner has sparked something that led to the next action, and the next, and the next.

It’s funny how you don’t always notice the development while you’re in it — and then suddenly, there it is.

Clear as day. Even if the day itself only had about six hours of daylight.

And the more I looked at it, the more something clicked:

every one of those post-its exists because of a skill — a skill I used, strengthened, or learned along the way.

Tiny skills, quietly applied, shaping the whole year.

It’s had me thinking about how these almost-invisible shifts aren’t just “personal development”. They actually change the capability of a whole business over time. A sort of gentle, ongoing evolution.

I’ve started calling it CBD: Continuous Business Development — not the grand strategic kind, just the ordinary, human kind that builds in the background.

The Small Things That Build a Business

When you run a small business, you start noticing the ripple effect of the smallest changes.

Someone becomes a little better at asking questions.

Someone learns a new way to structure their day.

Someone grows a bit in confidence and suddenly speaks up more.

Someone discovers a slightly smarter way to do something that used to feel frustrating.

These moments rarely feel worthy of celebration.

And yet, they’re the very things that make a business more capable, more resilient, more “us”.

There’s no fanfare, no certificate, no LinkedIn announcement — but over months and years, those tiny shifts accumulate.

And suddenly the place feels different.

Smoother.

More aligned.

More confident.

That’s CBD.

Development, not in the loud sense — but in the sense that matters.

Being a One-Person Business Makes This Hit Differently

As the founder of Jessanol, my own skills aren’t a separate part of the business — they are the business.

If I learn something new, Jessanol gains something new.

If I don’t, it doesn’t.

It’s a simple truth that’s both motivating and mildly terrifying.

Running Jessanol has made me acutely aware of these tiny growth moments.

Sometimes it’s me learning a better tool because I know next year depends on it.

Sometimes it’s a conversation with someone in my network that nudges my thinking in a new direction.

Sometimes it’s quietly admitting that something isn’t working and choosing to do it differently.

And sometimes it’s recognising that the people around Jessanol — associate businesses, specialists, partners — are also part of this growth picture.

Their strengths bolster mine.

My development supports them.

It’s all connected, even when it doesn’t look like it.

Looking Towards Next Year

At the moment I’m knee-deep in planning for 2026 — scribbling thoughts, sense-checking assumptions, noticing gaps, mapping possibilities. The usual mix of excitement and “I really must make another cup of tea before tackling this next bit.”

And as I’ve been doing it, one thought has kept coming back:

We talk a lot about strategy, but we don’t talk enough about capability.

Not in the dramatic, boardroom sense — but in the everyday sense.

The skill, confidence, and capacity that quietly decide whether the big ideas actually work.

And capability doesn’t grow in January through resolutions we forget by February.

It grows in tiny, almost invisible moments: a shift in perspective, a bit of curiosity, a slightly better way of doing something, a small decision to improve rather than endure.

That’s the development you feel a year later, when the business suddenly feels easier to run.

A Question for All of Us Heading Into a New Year

So I’ve been asking myself — and maybe you’ll find the question useful too:

If small skills can quietly reshape a whole business, which small skills do we want to grow next year?

Not the big ambitions.

Not the dramatic reinventions.

Just the tiny shifts that make everything else smoother.

It’s a gentler, more honest way of thinking about growth.

And maybe — just maybe — it’s the one that actually sticks.