When I first got married, my wife and I shared one car, and since we worked in the same general direction, we rode to and from the office together every day.

It wasn’t long before we noticed a pattern: we frequently found ourselves in a conflict, either during the drive home or right after we walked through the door. It was frustrating, and for a while, I couldn’t figure out why.

The pattern eventually became clear: for the first half-hour or 45 minutes after I left work, I was still completely stuck in my work persona.

When I closed my office door, I still had a dozen loops running in my head. I was stuck in problem-solving mode, using the clipped, tactical communication style I had been using all day. My wife, it turns out, did not appreciate being treated like a team member with a problem to solve!

Later in my career, when I had a much longer, solitary drive, I started to value that alone time. It became a built-in routine for me to settle my thoughts, process the feelings I brought out of the office, and mentally close some of the open loops that kept clinging to me.

Now that my commute is just a walk from the bedroom to the dining room, I find that old problem resurfacing. My work-self sometimes shows up right at the kitchen counter while I’m supposed to be cooking dinner, or it sits silently at the dining room table with my family.

Intentional Action for Transition

This realization—that the work stuff doesn’t automatically stay at work—has led me on a journey to find a routine or ritual that helps me make the switch. That transition doesn’t happen on its own; I’ve learned that I need to take intentional action to make the jump.

I’m looking for a way to let go of what my brain is chewing on so I can show up fully present for the people I care about.

I’ve heard some options from the leaders I coach. One client described a mental “squeegee” she uses to wipe her brain and body free of the thoughts and emotions that are sticking to her. Another stops and takes a few deep, intentional breaths to anchor herself back in the moment.

For me, I often review the day hour-by-hour in my head and ask myself: “If I had today to live over again, what would I do differently?”

It enables me to check in with myself—have I done enough? Is there one or two things I need to write down so they don’t get forgotten? Or is it a day I can put away until tomorrow? The act of reviewing gives me agency over the day’s leftovers.

What’s Your Transition Ritual?

So, I’m curious, what “work stuff” is following you home right now?

What rituals or actions have you found that help you mentally transition so you can be fully present for your family and your life outside the office? Hit reply and let me know. I’d love to have more options in my toolbox.