New company, new sector, new level. Your skills came over the border with you. Your credibility didn't, and there's no queue you can join to have it reissued. So you're working in a language you only half speak, and every week the distance between what you can do and what they think you can do gets slightly wider.
About 35 to 55 minutes. You come out with a map of what changed between the old job and this one, a plan for the next eight weeks and a 90-day visa. The bigger the move, the more of the plan is written out. It is for making what you can already do readable where you are now.
New role, new company, new industry, new level. The move already happened, maybe three months ago, maybe last year. You were excellent where you came from. Here you're still proving it.
Skills intact, references glowing, and something still isn't translating. You say the right thing and it lands oddly. You make the right call and nobody registers it. You're working flat out and being read at about seventy percent.
"They don't know what I can do yet" is a sentence most people in your position have thought at least once. Waiting won't fix it. This isn't a patience problem.
The deliverable is strong and the approach is proven. The room wanted a different format, a different framing, a different way in. You're paying in sterling while they count in dollars. The value is identical. The exchange rate is killing you.
How decisions get made. Who speaks first. Where initiative stops and overreach starts. None of it is aimed at you. The map you're working from is just from somewhere else.
Onboarding finished. The honeymoon ended. The sense of being a little behind, a little outside, a little provisional hasn't shifted. You've been waiting for the place to adjust to you. It won't.
Your Translation Papers: the border map, a phrasebook of the skills that work differently here, first messages to the people who can teach you them, an eight-week plan with a step for every two weeks, and a 90-day visa. None of the usual advice about starting a new job, because none of it is about your crossing.
Five dimensions, rated in the old job and the new one. What came over with you, what got left behind, and what keeps arriving in the wrong currency.
Any rating that barely moved has to survive a real example from the new job. If you can't tell where an old reflex misfires, the session writes you a short scene to test it on.
A phrasebook, first messages to your guides, an eight-week plan with a step for every two weeks, and a 90-day visa. All of it written for the specific border you crossed.
Included in every pilot seat
This is session 2 of Arrive. A pilot is one programme for up to 20 people: three sessions each, and a check-in sixty days after they start. You get a report on the whole group. Each person’s document stays private unless they choose to share it with you.
See how the pilot works →Here for yourself rather than a team? Take the diagnostic on your own.
Three borders in five years. I got through all of them and prepared for none.
Trading floor to structuring desk. London to Hong Kong. Bank to startup. Every time I assumed the skills would carry over. Every time they did, and every time it made no difference for months, because nobody could see them yet.
Hong Kong was the worst of it. Work I knew was good, landing flat, week after week. The analysis was right and the recommendations were sound. I was presenting like a London banker in a room that ran on completely different rules, and it took about four months to accept the problem was the translation and not the work.
This session is the map I wanted at every one of those crossings. It won't make a move painless. It will stop you losing half a year to something that has nothing to do with how good you are.
20 seats, one quarter, nothing to pay. It ends by itself when the quarter does. No auto-renewal, nothing to cancel.
After the pilot: £119 per person, per programme, check-in included. How pricing works
20 seats · one quarter · ends on its own