This article is part of a seven-part series inspired by What Color Is Your Parachute?, Richard Bolles’ classic guide to finding work that fits who you are. In his “Flower Exercise”, each petal represents one element of a fulfilling career: the skills you love using, the people you work best with, the environment that helps you thrive, your values, interests, geography and preferred level of responsibility. You can start anywhere or follow the series as each article stands alone, but together they form a single flower.

The third petal of the Flower Exercise focuses on working conditions: the physical, social and psychological environment that allows you to perform at your best. This includes not only where you work but also how your day is structured, what pace you prefer and how decisions are made around you.

We often overlook this petal because we are trained to focus on what we do rather than how we do it. Yet the conditions that surround us can determine whether our talents flourish or fade.

The Architecture of Work

I have come to understand that the way I work best is not static. It has evolved with time, circumstance and self-awareness. Recently learning that I have attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) has helped me see this more clearly. It explains not only my preference for structure but also my need for flexibility within it.

As a child, I grew up in an environment with high expectations and strong external structure. Much of life was organised for me, so I could focus on school. It was predictable and disciplined and it gave me tools that have served me ever since: planning, lists, systems and schedules. Later, those habits became the scaffolding that allowed me to function effectively as an adult.

When I began working, I discovered that structure and independence are not opposites. In clinical medicine, the routines were relentless yet oddly satisfying. Each day followed a rhythm: early rounds, task lists, follow-ups, results, evening rounds then starting again the next morning. I thrived on the clarity, but the environment itself, which was regularly rude, hierarchical and hostile, slowly wore me down. I could sustain the structure, but not the culture.

In pharmaceutical medicine, I began to redesign the way I worked. The commute was long at first, but the work itself had pace, variety and intellectual depth. When caring for my premature daughter meant I needed to be in Dublin, I adapted again. I became transparent about my responsibilities and found employers who offered the flexibility I needed. Remote and hybrid work became more than a convenience. They became part of my architecture of balance. It allowed me to care for my family, pursue additional studies and perform well professionally.

Now, I know that what I need to do my best work changes with context. The right architecture for me has a few constant features:

• Structure with autonomy. Clear expectations but freedom to find my own rhythm.
• Purposeful collaboration. Connection with people who respect expertise and preparation.
• Hybrid rhythm. Quiet time for deep work balanced with in-person days for exchange and alignment.
• Boundaries and clarity. Knowing the limits of my role and responsibilities early on so I can operate confidently within them.

These are not rigid rules but evolving needs. What supported me as a junior doctor is not what I need now as a leader, mother and board member. The architecture of work continues to evolve as life does, shaped by the demands and seasons that accompany it.