Tomorrow, I will heal. Little my little, I will figure it out.

Tomorrow, I’ll speak. And tell my story. 

Tomorrow, I”ll stand. Taller. I’ll show up. And offer my hands, ears, and heart. I’m your ally.

Today, I’ll fight. For justice. For love. For humanity.

Belonging changed me.

Ubuntu teaches us that being “needy” isn’t about lacking something; it’s about recognizing that we’re all connected. We are stronger, happier, and more resilient when we come together. When we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and open, to ask for help and to give it freely, we embrace the essence of being human.

 “I am because we are.”

I am paying closer attention to people around me. I remember being in a grocery store, standing behind an elderly man with his cart full of produce. Normally, I would have been impatient, mentally running through my to-do list. But in that moment, I wondered about him — about the years that had brought him to this grocery aisle, his memories, and the life he’d lived. It felt like I could almost see the story etched in his face: moments of hardship, resilience, and love. It changed how I felt about that entire experience.

Ah, “adulting.” The very word often conjures up visions of endless bills, groan-worthy responsibilities, and a general sense of “Why didn’t anyone prepare me for this?” For many of us, growing up isn’t a process we choose so much as a set of decisions and responsibilities that seem to sneak up on us. Suddenly, we’re out of school, faced with a cascade of life decisions that only we can make, and no one is around to grade our efforts.

Roosevelt’s message is clear: the person who dares is already a victor. Even if they stumble or fall, their journey is valuable because they had the courage to begin. When we bring hope, grit, motivation, support, and the intention to influence others positively, we set ourselves up not just for personal growth but for a life that impacts others. The reward isn’t just in the “triumph of high achievement” but also in the sense of fulfillment that comes from knowing we gave our all.

And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

…as parents, we often view our children as extensions of ourselves. For a long time, I did too. I wanted them to be like me, to succeed in ways that were meaningful to me, and, as I now see, to validate my own sense of self.

Think of mental fitness as a workout you can do in sweatpants. Every day, you get a chance to cross train by managing your mental health as you practice healthy habits: sleep, nutritious food, boundaries, etc, and by listening a little more deeply, responding a little more mindfully, and extending a little more empathy.

Change doesn’t come without distress, or at least a moment of discomfort. This lesson hit me while visiting St. John the Evangelist Monastery in Cambridge. I had arrived expectant—eager for a transformative epiphany. I sat in the library, surrounded by books and a serene view of the Charles River, waiting for something profound.

In both life and work, mirrors are essential. Not the literal ones we glance at daily, but the metaphorical mirrors—the people in our lives who offer us reflections of ourselves. Often, we are so immersed in our own perspectives that we fail to see where our blind spots lie. This is where the mirror of someone else’s perspective becomes invaluable, helping us recognize not only our strengths but also areas where we have opportunities for growth.

Whether it's excelling at work, maintaining relationships, staying fit, or meeting personal goals, the underlying message is often: "Give 100% or don't bother at all." But what if the 80% battery—giving just enough without pushing to extremes—was not only adequate but beneficial in leading a more balanced, sustainable life?

There's something uniquely powerful about using pen and paper. The tactile experience of writing with an amazing pen connects you to your thoughts in a way that typing often can't. It slows you down, allowing your mind to fully process and explore ideas. Writing also offers permanence—once written, your thoughts are there to revisit, reconsider, and learn from later on. This is especially meaningful when we’re navigating the complexities of leadership and well-being.

But why do we follow leaders and authority figures, even when we know they are causing harm?

"If knowledge is power, knowing what we don't know is wisdom" -Adam Grant

In today's world, it's easier than ever to "break up" with friends. We live in a black-and-white culture where polarization is common, and the concepts of canceling, ghosting, and cutting ties with those who see the world differently are increasingly normalized. But why are we so quick to end friendships when differences arise? And how can we learn to embrace these differences rather than reject them?

Take it to heart when someone warns about a trigger!

I am headed to the stadium again today. I love the fall and all that it holds: the changing leaves, sweater weather, and football.

My sons all played college football on the offensive line. If you don’t know much about football, bear with me and I’ll explain it.

In some external spaces, this act is forbidden, deemed unacceptable, and even regarded as an act of betrayal.

However, within our inner spaces, this is difficult work with the potential for profound transformation.

A few years ago, I started thinking of possibility. I began to dream of a different world. I dared to imagine life could be different. I was involved a system that taught certainty meant safety, yet in reality, it gave power for a select few and oppression for most.

I entered the system looking for safety after a life altering traumatic event.

I've worn “bleacher buns” for 25 years. I work out my quads springing up from sitting to standing with each whistle and play. I travel thousands of miles to watch the blood, sweat, and tears for football, basketball, volleyball, and lax.

I have heard my fair share of heckling from the other fans. It gets under my skin. I KNOW this about myself and every time I sit in the stands, I prep myself for the taunting messages; a flat, no lipped smile and focus on the game.

It's all part of the game. On and off the field, there is an aura where everything is sport-even the taunting.

Becoming self-aware and emotionally intelligent is not a task we can achieve by ourselves.

We know that 65% of senior-level women do not currently have a mentor or advisor, but 43% of them wish they did. One way to grow is through a “Personal Board of Directors”; folks that have unique strengths, are self-aware, and emotionally intelligent. A few years ago, I fashioned my board. It was more out need than being proactive. I found myself in a tough spot in almost every area of my life. The truth is that I don’t like being needy or asking for help, but I was desperate and found that I couldn’t do life by myself.

I found myself reeling after Brian (not his real name) laid into me about a suggestion I made on project we were both working on. My thoughts alternated between offense and defense as I recalled the situation over and over. I started for the door to let him have it with a tongue thrashing and a finger waving, only to make myself sit down again feeling some weird sense of shame that maybe something was wrong and deficient with me, and my suggestion was really dumb.

David Byrne, lead singer for the Talking Heads said, “Burning Down the House wasn’t about arson. When I wrote the lyrics in 1982, the title phrase was a metaphor for destroying something safe that entrapped you. I envisioned the song as an expression of #liberation, to break free from whatever was holding you back.”

What is holding you back?

How are you entrapped?

What change are you afraid of?

What has you stuck?