This week, I lost someone I had supported for several years.
His passing affected me far more deeply than I expected.
It left me thinking about all the conversations we had, all the supports we put in place, and all the opportunities that were there. I found myself wishing things had been different. Wishing he had taken better care of himself. Wishing he had used more of what was available to him.
And, if I'm truthful, wondering whether I could have done more.
But somewhere in that reflection came an important realisation. We cannot live another person's life for them.
We can care deeply. We can encourage. We can open doors, find opportunities, solve problems and put the best possible supports around someone.
But ultimately, every human being has the right to make their own choices.
Our role is not to control those choices.
Our role is to help create an environment where better choices feel possible.
The four legs of the table
I often think of life as being like a table.
A table needs all four legs to be strong and balanced.
Our lives are much the same.
For me, those four legs represent the different parts of life that keep us steady — our health and wellbeing, our relationships and connection, our sense of purpose and growth, and the practical foundations that give us security and stability.
If one leg becomes shaky, we might manage for a while.
But eventually, the whole table starts to feel unbalanced.
We often make the mistake of focusing all our energy on the leg that is causing the biggest problem. We deal with the crisis. We fix the immediate issue. We organise another service. We make another appointment.
But living your best life isn't simply about fixing what is wrong.
It is about looking at the whole table.
Are you looking after your health?
Do you have people around you who genuinely matter?
Do you have something that gives you purpose?
Are you learning, growing or working towards something?
Do you have the practical supports you need to live the life you want?
Are the things in your life actually working together?
Support should help build a life
This experience has made me reflect deeply on the way I deliver Support Coordination.
I don't want Support Coordination to simply be about administering an NDIS plan. I don't want success to be measured by how many providers we engage, how many appointments we arrange or how much funding gets spent.
An NDIS plan is a resource.
The person's life is the purpose. That distinction matters.
Our job should be to help someone take the resources available to them and turn those resources into something meaningful — more independence, better health, greater confidence, stronger relationships, community, purpose, opportunity. A life that feels like their own.
That thinking has shaped the six steps I now use when supporting people.
Understand
Before we try to fix anything, we need to understand the person. Not just their diagnosis. Not just their NDIS plan. The person. What matters to them? What do they want their life to look like? What is working? What isn't? We start by understanding their goals, their plan and their funding — but more importantly, we understand the human being behind them.
Strengthen
Then we look at the foundations. What needs strengthening? Perhaps supports aren't working. Perhaps important needs have been overlooked. Perhaps funding isn't being used effectively. Perhaps one of those four legs of the table has become unstable. We strengthen what is already there and address the things that are getting in the way.
Activate
A plan sitting on paper changes nothing. At some point, we have to activate it. We find the right people. We connect the right providers. We make the introductions. We remove barriers. We get things moving. But activation isn't about filling someone's week with services. Every support should have a reason for being there — connecting back to the person's goals and the life they are trying to build.
Develop
Good support should never make someone more dependent than they need to be. It should help them grow. We develop skills, confidence, knowledge, decision-making, independence. Sometimes progress is enormous. Sometimes it is almost invisible to everyone except the person experiencing it. Both matter. Because the ultimate goal should always be to help someone become more capable of shaping their own life.
Connect
People can have excellent individual supports that still don't create an excellent life. Why? Because everyone is working separately. Connection changes that. When everyone understands the person's goals and works towards the same outcomes, support becomes coordinated rather than fragmented. The table becomes stronger.
Sustain
And finally, we have to make it sustainable. Are we making progress? Is the funding being used wisely? Are the supports still right? Has something changed? Are we building something that can continue? Because living your best life isn't a destination you suddenly arrive at. Life changes. People change. Goals change. The important thing is noticing when something is becoming unbalanced and being willing to adjust.
We can guide, but we cannot choose
Perhaps this has been the hardest lesson for me.
When you genuinely care about someone, you naturally want the best for them. Sometimes you can see possibilities they cannot yet see for themselves.
But we cannot make another human being choose the life we think they should live. And perhaps we shouldn't.
What we can do is put the options in front of them. We can create environments they want to be part of. We can connect them with people who inspire confidence rather than dependence. We can help them understand their choices. We can encourage them. We can walk beside them. And when something doesn't work, we can learn from it.
This week reminded me that caring for people also means accepting the limits of what we can control.
I can do my best. I can listen. I can advocate. I can connect. I can create opportunities. I can keep showing someone what might be possible. But their life remains theirs.
Maybe living our best life begins with recognising that responsibility in ourselves too. To look at our own four-legged table every now and then and ask: What is strong? What is wobbling? What have I been neglecting? And what is one choice I can make today to bring my life back into balance?
Because ultimately, the supports around us can help hold the table steady. But each of us still has to choose to sit at it and live.
— Tracy Young