Tag: #selfawareness

  • Stop Romanticizing the Grind: Why Misery Doesn’t Equal Meaning

    Stop Romanticizing the Grind: Why Misery Doesn’t Equal Meaning

    I’m done pretending that being miserable proves I’m doing something important.

    I’ve tried it. It just breaks things. Usually me.

    I ran into this quote on Instagram and it put words to something I’ve been feeling for a while now…

    “My competitive advantage is I’m having more fucking fun than you. Not because I don’t care. Because I care so deeply that I refuse to make it fucking miserable… I stopped romanticizing my suffering like I was some kind of war hero, and started romanticizing the kind of work I go to bed excited to wake up and continue.”

    That line about romanticizing suffering like a war hero?

    It stung.

    I care about the work. A lot. Learning… leadership… building things that actually help people. That part hasn’t changed. But my tolerance for the idea that being exhausted, overwhelmed, and quietly fried is proof of commitment?

    Gone.

    It’s not commitment. It’s just… unsustainable.

    Think about it like being out on the trail. You don’t need to know Land Rovers to get this… but if you’re off-roading and you hit unfamiliar terrain, you don’t floor it. You don’t try to smash through obstacles just to prove your vehicle is tough.

    You slow down. You pick a line. You let the suspension work.

    White-knuckling the steering wheel feels like you’re doing something… feels intense. Productive. But it isn’t. It just means you’re tense, you’re missing the view, and you’re probably going to break an axle.

    Somewhere along the way, we decided work had to hurt to count. That joy meant you weren’t serious. That if you weren’t struggling, you weren’t trying hard enough. I’ve had bosses that equated pain to dedication, to success.

    I bought that story. For a long time.

    But I’m not interested in being a war hero for a meeting agenda or a quarterly report.

    I want to build things I actually want to come back to. Momentum. Curiosity. Room to breathe. Not “easy” work… just work that doesn’t require self-betrayal to get through the day.

    This isn’t about doing less. It’s about not burning the engine out before I get to the destination. Or even worse, not even see the view along the way.

    I used to think the misery was the point. But Jude’s right… “enjoying your life makes it much easier to keep showing up.”

    And I want to keep showing up.

    So, you can grind until you hate the work.

    “I’m gonna enjoy the work until I win.”

    That’s the plan for 2026.

  • How AI Helps Leaders Uncover Blind Spots and Build a Culture of Thinking

    How AI Helps Leaders Uncover Blind Spots and Build a Culture of Thinking

    I was working with a new leader recently who said, “I know I’m missing something, but I can’t tell what it is.”

    She wasn’t lacking skill.

    She was bumping up against the part of leadership nobody likes to admit.

    Our brain fills in missing pieces without asking permission.

    That’s a blind spot.

    Not the thing you didn’t notice, but the meaning you assigned without realizing it.

    This is exactly where Cultures of Thinking shows up in real leadership work.

    Ron Ritchhart talks about creating a culture where people examine their own thinking, question their interpretations, and stay open to multiple perspectives.

    But leaders rarely do this for themselves.

    They are too busy moving on to the next thing.

    Here’s the good news.

    You don’t need an AI note taker or a perfect transcript to start seeing your blind spots.

    You just need a way to challenge your own first read of a situation.

    Here’s what I showed her.

    After a meeting that felt heavy, instead of replaying every detail, I asked her to write a few sentences about what she thought happened.

    Not the whole moment.

    Just her interpretation.

    Then I had her ask AI:

    “What’s another possible interpretation of this situation?”

    That’s it.

    No magic.

    No pretending AI “knows” the meeting better than she does.

    AI simply widened her lens.

    It offered alternatives she hadn’t considered:

    “Maybe the questions showed engagement, not doubt.”

    “Maybe the tension was about workload, not your leadership.”

    “Maybe the silence meant processing, not disagreement.”

    She looked at the screen and said, “I didn’t even think of that.”

    And that moment is the core of a Culture of Thinking.

    Not the right answer.

    Not the perfect insight.

    Just the willingness to look at your own thinking and stretch it a little.

    Blind spots aren’t signs of weakness.

    They’re signs that our assumptions are running ahead of us.

    AI helps you pause long enough to ask,

    “What else could be true?”

    If you’ve ever walked away from a meeting feeling uneasy but unsure why, this kind of thinking might give you the clarity you didn’t realize you were missing.

  • What AI Revealed About My Biggest Leadership Weak Spot

    What AI Revealed About My Biggest Leadership Weak Spot

    I saw this question reposted on a friend’s Instagram and decided to ask AI, since it knows me well:

    “If a competent CEO got to run your life in 2026, what is the first thing they would eliminate?”

    The answer wasn’t subtle. AI was quick to call out my chronic overcommitment.

    Not my ambition or creativity, just the part where I say yes to things that don’t move my life or work forward.

    A CEO would open my calendar, scan the clutter, and immediately notice the pattern that I’m a top performer doing work that doesn’t require my level of expertise… simply because I can.

    The Sneaky Part About Overcommitment

    It rarely looks like chaos. It looks like competence. Things like a quick review of a friend’s manuscript that turns into a redesign or a small favor that becomes a six-week long advisory council commitment.

    Helpful? Sure.

    Strategic? Not even a little.

    What Needs to Go

    So since I am the CEO of my life, here’s what I need to cut:

    – Automatic yeses that steal time from the work that matters.

    – Unpaid emotional labor that solves problems others could handle.

    – Tasks I absorb because someone else is moving slowly.

    – Volunteer brilliance that drains the energy needed for my long-term goals.

    Why This Matters

    Because 2026 isn’t about doing more; it’s about doing the right things.

    VR/AI curriculum.

    Leadership writing.

    Consulting.

    Growing the work that actually changes lives requires space. Space I keep giving away out of habit.

    And here’s the part that ties back to my work guiding others:

    I can’t coach people toward intentional, human-centered leadership while running my own life on overdrive. Clarity creates integrity and boundaries create authenticity.

    And if I am committed to being a leader, then modeling the hard choices gives others permission to do the same.

    So yes, my AI bestie called me out. But it was the nudge I needed.

    So in 2026, I’m firing the overwhelm. Not because I can’t handle it, but because I finally know I don’t have to.

  • When the Waiting Room Becomes an Echo Chamber

    When the Waiting Room Becomes an Echo Chamber

    This morning I find myself in a packed dealership service waiting room because apparently every single one of us had the same “brilliant” idea: get the car checked before Thanksgiving travel.

    I’m sitting in a living, breathing echo chamber.

    We all had the same plan, same timing, same logic.

    No one questioned the obvious. We all just… showed up. Ugh.

    And as I sit here watching the room fill beyond capacity, it has me thinking about work, and the fact that this happens in leadership far more often than we admit.

    We fall in love with alignment. We assume shared thinking means we’re on the right track. But when everyone is thinking the same way, no one is actually thinking. Consensus feels safe, familiar, efficient even. But more often than not, it’s a sign we’ve stopped asking the harder questions. It’s actually exhausting to sit in meetings with everyone just saying “yes” to whatever idea gets put out there.

    True leaders who move things forward aren’t the ones who blindly follow the pattern everyone else defaults to. They’re the ones who pause long enough to ask:

    “Is this actually the best move, or just the expected one?”

    Strategic divergence is underrated. It’s not rebellion for the sake of rebellion; it’s curiosity with a spine. It’s the awareness that if you only ever make the same choices as everyone else, you shouldn’t be surprised when you end up in the same waiting room at the same time, frustrated for the same reasons.

    A little intentional questioning goes a long way, in both car maintenance and in leadership.

    P.S. Safe travels to everyone hitting the road this week. And may your service appointment move faster than mine. 🤪