Interstellar Journeys in Organisations

Over the last few years, I’ve had many conversations that start with frustration, confusion, and even a touch of well-contained anger. They often sound like venting sessions at first, but if you listen closely, there’s something deeper happening.

It’s as if people have been dropped into another galaxy, where the rules of gravity, time, and logic no longer apply. They look around their new organisation and think, 'How has this place survived so long?' What exactly fuels what’s happening here?

Starting a new role can feel less like joining a company and more like strapping into a spacecraft for interstellar travel. You bring experience, ideas, and enthusiasm, only to discover the ship’s manual is missing and everyone seems to be flying by different star charts.

When the Familiar Stops Making Sense

You might recognise some of these scenarios:

• The newcomer who assumes what worked before will work again, only to find decisions driven by personalities, not processes. Coherence appears just before a crisis, then snaps back to “normal” like a rogue comet zooming past.
• The undercooked induction. Onboarding and exit phases often feel shorter than a shuttle trip around the moon. Mid-career professionals take on roles that promise range and purpose but often end up burned out, disoriented, and questioning their own navigation skills.
• The culture shock. Moving from a structured environment to a fluid one where everyone does their own thing can feel like landing on a planet with unpredictable weather patterns, especially when rewards are tied to individual output rather than shared learning.

These transitions often trigger emotional and psychological strain. Familiar cues vanish, social maps change, and suddenly, you’re unsure what “good” looks like; fatigue, irritability, and self-doubt creep in.

And yet, these are very human reactions and not signs of failure.

Reframing the Experience

Some clients find their footing by doing one simple but powerful thing: opening their lens slightly.

Rather than judging the new culture through the logic of the old, they start observing with curiosity. They notice patterns instead of problems. This reduces mental noise and restores a sense of agency, even if small. Sometimes, that alone can redirect the mission's trajectory.

Think of it as switching from autopilot to manual control, and you may wobble at first, but you start to see the currents of the system and can adjust your flight path.

Different Logics at Play

Whatever way of working you bring with you, “the right way” is often mechanistic thinking. It assumes there is only one way to operate, one that lets you predict, fix, and understand causes and effects that you uniquely appreciate.

You might come from an environment that’s highly organised, with processes and procedures that could pave multiple motorways. Efficient? Yes. But if you believe it’s the only way, there’s little room for iteration or noticing what happens between the cracks.

The opposite can happen, too. Organisations that thrive in emergent ways may look chaotic to outsiders. Personalities, emotions, or both may guide them. They hire people to “sort things out,” yet consciously or unconsciously resist shifting or adapting.

Strong preferences for order or chaos can both block adaptation. Both poles diminish our ability to respond effectively. A fit-for-function, nuanced approach works better — like choosing the right thrusters for the terrain rather than insisting on warp speed everywhere.

As leaders start to appreciate that different environments operate on different logics, they can begin to view organisations as continuous flows of becoming — adaptive, dynamic, and shaped by interaction. Differences aren’t errors to be fixed; they’re sources of learning, creativity, and renewal.

When we see the workplace as evolving, and ourselves as participants rather than outsiders, adaptation becomes less about survival and more about discovery.

A Closing Thought

Most professional moves aren’t intergalactic. We’re not encountering entirely new life forms. But they are interstellar. The constellations shift, the stars are unfamiliar, and navigation takes patience, humility, and curiosity.

The good news is that there are things you can do. Stay curious, experiment with new ways of working, and observe what unfolds.

It’s not always a fairy-tale ending, and sometimes the fit isn’t right — either because the organisation can’t handle the contrast, the individual decides it is not the best time for the journey, or the system itself isn’t sure what it wants. And that’s okay. What matters is using the experience, whatever the outcome, as an opportunity for learning and growth.

When our attention is on the process rather than the perfect result, the outcome becomes more about you — how you nurture yourself through exploration and what you discover about your adaptability.

Unfortunately, for organisations, the news isn’t always as good. Over time, even seemingly successful environments can suppress adaptability. Talking to one person is like talking to all. There’s often zero variety to speak of.

So strap in, fellow explorers. Sometimes the ride is bumpy, but the stars you navigate along the way make the journey worth it.

Have you ever felt like you landed in another galaxy at work?