MY BLOG

We were sitting in a circle. About 30 of us had gathered in central Wisconsin for a facilitator training event. As we waited for the session to begin, I looked around, sizing up my fellow participants.

My gut told me that a woman across the circle from me was someone I wanted to know. I was unaware that she was thinking the same thing about me. As fate would have it, we were assigned to the same small group, and that was how we discovered that we lived about 30 minutes from each other.

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Marc is a gem of a human. He’s an educator and the kind person who brings home stray dogs. He can’t walk past an Angel Tree without selecting a name, and he would give you the shirt off his back. People often describe Marc as “such a good guy.”

A few years ago, Marc began to get invitations to speak at professional development events for educators. The events were small and local, but he always over-delivered. He loved sharing his classroom expertise, and over time, he received more speaking invitations.

Earlier this year, Marc realized he needed to overhaul his basic website to book larger events. He also knew he had a limited web design skill set, so he hired a professional.

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One of the things I enjoy about working with healthy leaders is their commitment to personal growth. They not only seek excellence in their craft, but they also embrace a strong desire for self-improvement. These people are the stewards of progress, the champions of innovation, the leaders who approach challenges with a relentless hunger for learning.

I have a working theory about how we should approach opportunities for growth. Leaders in all industries need to consider the following question: Is the moment I am facing a problem, a pattern, or am I dealing with a pain in the a**?

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In the diverse landscape of the music industry, there are just a few bands whose impact transcends mere melodies to become a force for positive change in the world. Among these luminaries stands a band whose musical talent is matched only by their unwavering commitment to social justice and advocacy. They have crafted timeless classics and have used their platform to amplify the voices of the voiceless, the silenced, and the marginalized. Their journey is a testament to the harmony of art and activism.

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The texts from my Midwest friends came in like a flood. “Are you ok? Are you going to evacuate? How bad is it?”

Wait, wait?

I was at an Airbnb in Florida. My condo was about 150 yards from the beach, so I used the context clues and guessed that a storm was brewing. I opened a trusted weather app, and sure enough, a massive storm was headed right for me. I hadn’t seen anything on the news, the locals weren’t talking about it, and my Airbnb host hadn’t checked in with me. I wasn’t sure how concerned I should be.

A few hours later, I drove to Tampa for a couple of speaking engagements. The clouds were rolling in, the wind had picked up, and I watched the palm trees sway from side to side, bending like rubber. It was the middle of the day, but the darkness of the sky painted a different picture.  

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Do you remember the film called Lemony Snicket's? I couldn’t tell you one thing about that movie, except for the fact that the subtitle was “A Series of Unfortunate Events.”

I recently experienced my own series of unfortunate events, and I’ll do my best to recount the story accurately. But honestly, it was such a strange night that I am not sure I can trust my own memory. As I write this, I keep thinking, “Did that really happen?”

I had arrived in Philadelphia for a four-day event with some entrepreneurs. Many of us flew in the night before, and the organization we were working with had arranged dinner plans for us. We met in the hotel lobby and drove to The Cheesecake Factory.

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I have a complex relationship with this time of the year. Winter is my least favorite season, and fall – for me – is just a reminder that colder months are on the horizon. As the days grow shorter and the chill sets in, I find myself staying inside, burying myself under warm blankets, and hibernating until the warmth returns.

Last week, while I languished in my fall funk, I was contemplating if I should go for a walk. I looked at the upcoming weather forecast, and it was clear this day was one of very few nice days left on the calendar.

But the truth is, I didn’t want to go for a walk. I was mentally and physically exhausted. I didn’t want to change my clothes and put on different shoes, find my headphones, or fill my water bottle. It had been a full day, and I was craving rest. The last thing I wanted to do was be in motion.

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My alarm went off at 4:15, and by 6:15, I was seated on a plane and ready to take a nap. It was going to be a long travel day. One of the things I like about living in the Midwest is being able to get almost anywhere in the country in a single day. However, East Coast trips often require a connecting flight and sometimes a long layer. This day would include both.

Around 1:30, I stepped out of my Uber and into a hotel lobby. I was happy to be at my final destination. I knew I was arriving about 90 minutes before the established check-in time, but often, a well-run hotel will work to get you a room right away.

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It’s another Friday afternoon at Lambert Airport in St. Louis. For some reason, today feels different. I used to like this airport. It is close to my house, it has a limited number of gates, which means it is manageable, and it is simple to navigate. But at this moment, I only see the things I dislike.

For example, good luck finding any food that wasn’t first frozen and then deep fried. Your options here are limited. Additionally, I can promise that 75% of the time, the escalator to the baggage claim area will be shut down for repairs. Be prepared to hull your carry-on luggage down a flight of steps.

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One skill on that shortlist is my ability to see connections. I am a natural observer. I notice patterns. I am deeply aware that what seems unrelated is often interconnected and mental maps of these connections come easily to me.

As a result, I am hyperaware when something is routinely showing up in my life. Over the last month, on three different occasions, I have had the same conversation with three different leaders. At various stages in my own journey, I, too, have wrestled with the question they each presented.

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Nearly three decades ago, I decided to transfer to Belmont University in Nashville, Tn. Little did I know that I would sit next to my future best friend, MaryAnn, on the first day of transfer student orientation. We found ourselves laughing about something that no one else found funny, and it became a lifelong bond.

Our friendship included a standing invitation to visit her family each summer. They lived in a small, rural Tennessee town called Smithville. I quickly learned that the best weekend to visit was the 4th of July, when her community was transformed into a bluegrass destination for people across the southeast.

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If you opened my closet, you would likely notice two things; First, I own a lot of blue shirts, and second, I have a wide selection of hooded shirts. What can I say, I know what feels comfortable.

There is a store at the mall that I like. While I like their style, what I like the most is the fact that their sizes are sensible. If you wear a medium in one of their shirts, then you wear a medium in all of their shirts. If one pair of pants in size 10 fits, then all the pants in size 10 will fit. Unlike other stores – where I walk into the dressing room with five sizes of one item – they make it simple.

A few weeks ago, while shopping at this store, I found a hooded shirt that I liked. I tried it on, and I felt good about it. The only issue was that the shirt was yellow. Let me clarify, we are talking about a solid shirt with no prints or patterns. Additionally, it was a soft, golden-yellow, not neon yellow!

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I am a creature of habit. When I travel for work, I like to keep things simple. This usually means I have a breakfast bar and a cup of tea poured from my travel-hot-water kettle each morning. However, due to my meeting schedule, one Tuesday in November, I knew I needed to venture out and eat a big brunch before a very long day began.

I did my research, and I narrowed my list down to two options. Both restaurants were within walking distance of my hotel, and each had good reviews. Their menus included what I was craving; French toast, bacon, hashbrown casserole, and tea.

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