Day 15 Curiosity: Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

This is Day 15 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, which means we have reached the halfway point of our month together. We have spent the past two weeks exploring the creative journey The Beatles took during the fall of 1965 as they recorded Rubber Soul along with “Day Tripper” and “We Can Work It Out.” Those two songs were released separately from the album as their first double A side single.

I am grateful for everyone who has followed these daily blog posts and reels, shared them, reposted them, or offered a nudge of encouragement along the way. If you have missed a day or fallen behind, there is no checklist, deadline, or test waiting at the end. Creativity does not always move according to a schedule. Sometimes we need room to explore, wander, return, and move at the pace that helps the work grow.

Today also begins a new week and a new theme: Experiment. Our word for Day 15 is Curiosity, because experimentation usually begins with one of the simplest and most powerful creative questions we can ask:

What if?

That question seems especially fitting for Rubber Soul. The Beatles were increasingly interested in finding different sounds, trying unfamiliar instruments, and pushing beyond the musical boundaries that had defined their earlier recordings. George Martin later recalled that they were constantly experimenting with unusual sounds and bringing new ideas into the studio.

Imagine some of the questions surrounding those sessions. What if George Harrison tried a sitar on “Norwegian Wood?” What if a piano part could be manipulated to create a completely different texture? What if another harmony changed the emotional feel of a passage? What if an unexpected percussion sound gave a song exactly what it needed?

Those questions may be imagined, but the experimentation behind them was very real. George Harrison brought the sitar into “Norwegian Wood,” one of the album’s most distinctive sounds and an early sign of his growing fascination with Indian music. The larger spirit of Rubber Soul was one of exploration, with the band deliberately searching for sounds and approaches they had not used before.

“What if?” is an essential question for any creative pursuit because it creates room for possibility. It moves us beyond the safety of what we already know and invites us to explore what might happen next. Curiosity opens the door to conversation, experimentation, collaboration, and discovery.

The best part is that asking the question does not require knowing the answer. Creativity rarely gives us that luxury. Sometimes we simply have to follow the idea, try the sound, write the paragraph, make the call, invite the collaboration, or test the possibility.

What question are you willing to follow as you work to ship something that matters? What question could invite a new idea, a different perspective, or an unexpected collaboration into your work?

Curiosity gives us permission to wonder before we know. Experimentation gives us permission to find out.

Curiosity is “What if?” in action.

Check out today’s reel for more:

Give: Day 14 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

As we wrap up week two of “Four Weeks’ to Rubber Soul,” our landing for today’s word is “Give.” The word blends in as suitable ending for the 2nd week theme of the series being “Collaborate.” Each member of The Beatles willing give of their strengths, ideas, and talents on each track of the “Rubber Soul” album. Their actions serve as a solid lesson for what it means to be a supportive collaborator in the creative process.

For us, the lesson from The Beatles is to give your part everything you have. On Rubber Soul, nobody simply showed up and occupied a role. John brought songs, voice, rhythm guitar, vulnerability, humor, and increasingly personal writing. Paul brought songs, bass lines, harmonies, musical imagination, and an instinct for arrangement. George brought guitar textures, harmony, songwriting, and the sitar that helped transform “Norwegian Wood.” Ringo brought the pulse, feel, personality, and exactly the kind of drumming each song needed. George Martin and the Abbey Road team also gave their creativity to the record. Each groove on the album is filled with sonic excellence.

The lesson becomes bigger than The Beatles. Giving does not require being the person in the spotlight. Giving means bringing your full contribution to the work because the work matters and because your bandmates matter. When you have a full balance of mattering among bandmates, the desire to give of yourself is heightened. It’s a beautiful thing when it happens in within the realm of any team, organization, or creative collaboration.

You may be wondering what is it that you have to give to a band. Ringo Starr once said in The Beatles Anthology documentary that when The Beatles got to focusing on the music, they put in “a thousand percent.” He is talking about this in relation to their final studio album, Abbey Road. That 1000% contribution factor is all over Rubber Soul. Each Beatle brought something different, but each one gave himself to the song.

You do not have to give what somebody else gives. Give what is yours to give. Bring your voice. Bring your gift. Bring your effort. Believe that you have to give matters and helps make the world a better place. The band becomes stronger when everyone gives something to the song.

Check out today’s reel:

Feedback: Day 12 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

What if “Drive My Car” had stayed “Golden Rings?” That may be one of the great what if questions in Beatles lyrical history. Paul McCartney came into the writing process with the beginnings of a song and an idea involving golden rings, but the idea was not quite working. Rather than protecting the first version simply because it was his, Paul kept working with John Lennon until they found a new direction. Eventually, “Drive My Car” emerged.

That story says a lot about feedback because feedback is necessary for any creative pursuit. We need thoughts, responses, questions, and ideas from other people because we cannot always see everything in our own work. We all have blind spots. Sometimes another person helps us recognize something that needs attention. Other times, feedback gives us validation that something is working and encourages us to keep moving forward.

Receiving feedback requires openness, and it also requires trust. We need people around us who understand what we are trying to accomplish and care enough to help us grow. The best feedback does not come from someone simply looking for flaws. It comes from trusted bandmates who are willing to listen, respond, challenge, encourage, and help us hear something we may be missing.

Being open to feedback does not mean we have to accept every suggestion. Feedback requires reflection and discernment because someone can offer a thoughtful idea that still may not belong in your work. Another person might notice something you initially resist, only to realize later that they were hearing something important. Creative growth requires enough confidence to maintain your own voice and enough humility to consider another perspective.

The goal of feedback is not obedience. The goal is growth, and that idea becomes even more meaningful when we look beyond “Drive My Car” and consider Rubber Soul as a whole. The album represents a moment when The Beatles knew they had to continue growing. They had already achieved extraordinary success, yet repeating what had worked before was not enough. Their songwriting was becoming more reflective, their musical palette was expanding, and new influences were finding their way into the room.

Rubber Soul is evidence of creative people taking bold initial steps toward innovation. The Beatles listened to one another, brought different ideas into the room, experimented with sounds and instruments, and allowed songs to change. They responded to new influences and trusted their evolving instincts. They did not have every future album mapped out. They simply understood that growth required movement.

That is one reason Rubber Soul continues to inspire me during this month of creativity. It offers more than a collection of incredible songs because it provides a template for creative growth.Rubber Soul reminds us to begin the work, listen to our creative muse, collaborate with kindred spirits, and experiment our expression. Like The Beatles, we welcome trusted feedback, reflect on what we hear, and keep what helps the work become stronger.

Every creative person needs people who can help them see and hear what they may be missing. The challenge is learning how to receive that perspective without surrendering your own voice. Listen with openness, give yourself time to reflect, and discern what will help the work grow. Sometimes the next creative breakthrough may begin with the willingness to hear something differently.

Check out today’s reel on Feedback:

Mattering: Day 11 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

Today is Day 11 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, and our word is Mattering.

Mattering is a word that carries a great deal of meaning for me. People need more than a place in the room. We need to know that we are seen, heard, valued, and needed. We need to know that our presence makes a difference and that our gifts have a place in the band.

Rubber Soul offers a small example of that idea. John Lennon and Paul McCartney will always be at the center of The Beatles songwriting story, yet George Harrison and Ringo Starr also have meaningful space on the album. George contributed “Think for Yourself” and “If I Needed Someone.” Ringo stepped into the spotlight as the lead vocalist on “What Goes On,” which also carried his name in the songwriting credit alongside Lennon and McCartney.

I do not want to romanticize The Beatles. They experienced tension, disagreement, frustration, and complicated relationships along the way. They were human, just like us. Their story still reminds us that collaboration does not require perfect relationships. It does require making room for other people to contribute.

That is where I see the connection to mattering. A band becomes stronger when people know there is room for their voice. A team becomes stronger when people know their strengths are noticed. A community becomes stronger when people understand that they are not simply occupying a chair. Their presence, perspective, and contribution matter.

Mattering has become significant in my own leadership journey because I have seen what happens when people feel invisible. I have also seen the difference that one moment of affirmation can make. Sometimes it is noticing someone’s effort. Sometimes it is asking for an idea or opening the door for someone else to lead. Sometimes it is communicating through our words and actions, we need what you bring to this band.

Those moments do not have to be grand. George gets a song. Ringo gets a vocal. Someone else gets the microphone. Someone gets invited into the conversation. Someone hears their contribution named and appreciated. Small moves can carry tremendous weight when they help people understand that they matter.

Mattering asks us to move beyond simply inviting people into the room. It asks us to notice what they bring once they arrive. It asks us to listen for their voice, recognize their strengths, and create opportunities for those strengths to contribute to something larger.

Rubber Soul works because it sounds like a band stretching together. Different voices, different gifts, and different personalities all contribute to the record. Our organizations, classrooms, teams, creative communities, and relationships need that same spirit.

Take a look around your band today. Consider who needs to know that you see them, whose voice needs more room, and whose gift you have noticed but have not yet named. Mattering grows when we help another person understand a simple and powerful truth: You are here. I see you. We need what you bring.

Check out today’s reel:

Invite: Day 9 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

Invite: Day 9 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

Welcome back to Four Weeks to Rubber Soul. We are embarking on a month long journey to explore creativity through the lens of The Beatles’ album Rubber Soul. The album took about a month to record, and I am engaging in my own daily challenge during these four weeks: do something creative each day in service of this series through blog posts, reels, reflection, and conversation.

This week, our focus is Collaborate, which brings us to today’s word: Invite. Collaboration rarely happens without someone first opening the door. Someone has to share the unfinished idea, ask the question, make the call, or simply say, “What do you think?”

The U.K. version of Rubber Soul opens with the witty rocker “Drive My Car.” It is The Beatles deep in the groove, telling an amusing story that turns the familiar “boy meets girl” trope on its head. Paul McCartney arrived with the musical idea, but the original lyrics were not working. He had a refrain built around “golden rings,” an idea that Paul later acknowledged was going nowhere.

Paul knew he had access to a pretty remarkable wordsmith in his songwriting partner, John Lennon. Rather than protecting an unfinished idea or abandoning it altogether, Paul invited John into the process. The two worked through the problem together, eventually landing on the phrase “Drive My Car” and building the clever story we know today.

That invitation offers a glimpse into the Lennon and McCartney songwriting partnership. Sometimes they wrote together. Sometimes they wrote separately. Sometimes one arrived with a nearly completed song that needed something more. A fragment, missing section, lyric, or unfinished idea could become an invitation for the other person to enter the creative process.

Think about what grew from those invitations. Their collaboration helped change the shape of popular music, yet so much of that extraordinary work began with something remarkably ordinary: an invitation.

The same principle extends beyond Lennon and McCartney. Throughout Rubber Soul, songs changed as they entered the studio and other band members contributed their own musical ideas. Invitation requires trust. It also requires recognizing that another person may possess a gift, perspective, or idea that can take our work somewhere we could not reach alone.

Some of my most meaningful collaborations have begun with a simple invitation. Making that invitation requires a little courage because there is always the possibility that someone will decline. I would rather risk hearing “no” than carry the regret of wondering what we might have created together.

That is how my collaboration with Donya Ball began. I had invited Donya, an author, keynote speaker, and thought leader, to join us as a guest on the Leading While Human podcast. I valued her insights, appreciated her upbeat approach, and recognized that we shared an interest in talking about leadership in real and transparent ways. During that conversation, I realized how much I enjoyed riffing on ideas with her. I decided to extend another invitation.

That invitation eventually became our podcast, Real Riffs. Our conversations have challenged me, expanded my thinking about leadership, and created something that neither of us would have created independently. I am grateful that I made the invitation and even more grateful that Donya accepted it.

As I reflect on Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, I recognize that much of this particular creative journey is a solo pursuit. I am writing the blog posts, recording the reels, creating the social media posts, and showing up every day for a month. Some days, that can be challenging. Sometimes it can even feel a little lonely because I do not have a Lennon or McCartney sitting across from me, ready to riff on the next idea.

Maybe that is where you enter the story.

I hope Four Weeks to Rubber Soul feels like an invitation. Consider this your invitation to share an idea, leave a comment, ask a question, challenge a thought, or tell me what you are creating. I have deeply appreciated the comments and notes of encouragement from those who have joined me during these first nine days. Your words matter more than you probably realize.

Creativity does not always have to be a solo pursuit. Sometimes the next step is simply opening the door and inviting someone else into the room. Your unfinished idea might need another voice. Your next project might need a bandmate. Your creative journey might begin to take a different shape because you had the courage to extend an invitation.

Maybe, over these four weeks, we are all building our own Rubber Soul together.

You are invited.

Reflect: Day 7 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

This is Day 7 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, and today’s word is Reflect. We are also closing out Week 1, which has centered on the theme of Begin. The Beatles’ creative growth, so evident on Rubber Soul, came from entering the room with songs, fragments, influences, ideas, and a willingness to work. The lesson is not to achieve perfection before starting. The lesson is to begin the work, knowing that it is completely acceptable if the beginning is rough and raw. What matters is that you enter the room and that the room is the right one, aligned with your creativity and ready to support the gifts you are bringing.

An important part of the creative process is reflection. Creative growth becomes visible when we stop long enough to notice what has changed since we began. Reflection asks us to pause, look back at what we created, and listen again. There is an art to that pause because we do not want to become so immersed in reflection that we lose momentum. Sometimes we need a trusted thought partner or bandmate who can help us listen, notice, and keep our creative work moving in the groove.

That brings me back to Rubber Soul. One reason I am looking forward to the multiple takes and alternate versions included with the forthcoming Rubber Soul Super Deluxe Edition is the opportunity to hear that creative evolution. The Beatles, along with producer George Martin, continually shaped these songs by changing harmonies, sounds, spaces, arrangements, and instrumentation. Reflection does not mean doubting what you created. Reflection means giving yourself enough space to hear what the work still needs.

Sometimes we need to return to what we made and ask three simple questions: What is working? What is missing? What could make this better? On Rubber Soul, a song could enter the studio one way and leave sounding very different on the finished master. That transformation happened because the band was willing to listen to the work as it developed and respond to what the song needed.

For example on “Norwegian Wood,” George Harrison felt that the song needed something different. His growing interest in Indian music led him toward the sitar, and he worked out a part that became one of the defining sounds of the song. That decision helped give the recording its distinctive character and introduced many listeners to a sound they may not have expected to hear on a Beatles record.

“In My Life” offers another beautiful example of reflection in action. The basic track had already been recorded, but the instrumental middle still needed something. George Martin experimented with ideas, including Hammond organ, before developing the Baroque inspired piano passage we now know so well. Since the part was difficult to play at the required speed, he recorded it more slowly and sped the tape up afterward. The result became an essential part of the song and a reminder that sometimes the creative breakthrough comes after we are willing to listen again.

As we close Week 1, take some time to reflect on something you have created. Do not judge it too quickly. Listen to it and ask yourself: What is working? What is missing? What could make this better? Consider bringing a trusted thought partner or bandmate into that reflection because sometimes another set of ears helps us hear possibilities we cannot hear alone.

Reflection is not about doubting your work. It is about asking what the work still needs and then having the courage to make the adjustment. I would love to hear how reflection fits into your creative process as we continue this journey through Four Weeks to Rubber Soul.

Check out today’s daily reel. Thanks to Starbucks for serving as my own Abbey Road Studios!

Why This?: Day 2 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

Why spend four weeks talking about Rubber Soul? It is a fair question. This is an album released more than sixty years ago by a band whose story has been told countless times. I keep coming back to it because Rubber Soul captures something bigger than a collection of great songs. It captures what can happen when we give ourselves permission to create, experiment, and move beyond what people expect from us.

By 1965, The Beatles were stretching beyond what a Beatles record had previously been expected to sound like. They were not walking into the studio declaring that they were going to create a masterpiece. They simply went in and made the work. They tried things, followed ideas, and trusted their curiosity. George Harrison brought the sitar into “Norwegian Wood.” Paul McCartney incorporated French into “Michelle.” John Lennon turned inward with “In My Life.” “Drive My Car” leaned into American R&B and soul. Across the album, The Beatles were expanding their sound while discovering what else they could become. The journey the band took into creativity with Producer George Martin is just as inspiring and relevant today as it was in the fall of 1965.

That part of the story speaks to me right now because I am currently writing a book called Leadership Riffs. Like most creative work, it comes with questions. Will it connect? Will people read it? Will the ideas resonate? Is there really room for another leadership book? I keep coming back to my purpose for writing. I want to create spaces where people feel that they belong. I want to support the humanity in others. I want leaders to remember that the people around them are not titles, positions, data points, or pieces on an organizational chessboard. They are human beings who want to know that they matter. My hope is that Leadership Riffs contributes something meaningful to that conversation.

Maybe you have something you need to create, too. It could be a book, a song, a podcast, a lesson, a business, a new approach to leadership, or an idea scribbled in a notebook that keeps asking for your attention. The question I keep thinking about is this: Why does your work need to exist? Maybe the better question is, why not? Your ideas matter. Your creativity matters. Your perspective matters. You have a voice and you have value. There are things you can bring into the world that nobody else can bring in quite the same way.

That does not mean everyone will understand your work. It does not guarantee applause, attention, likes, sales, or success. The work still deserves the opportunity to exist. Albums like Rubber Soul remind me that it is okay to step outside the familiar, to experiment, and to follow curiosity before knowing exactly where it will lead. The Beatles could have kept repeating what had already worked. Instead, they kept creating.

With that all in mind, here is my invitation to you. Put on Rubber Soul and really listen. Maybe there is a song, a riff, a lyric, a harmony, or even a small musical moment that gives you the spark you need to move forward with something of your own. For me, it is the harmony in the middle section of “If I Needed Someone,” with John, Paul, and George blending together while Ringo keeps the beat underneath them. There is something about that moment that reminds me how powerful it can be when individual voices come together and create something none of them could make alone.

Find your moment on the album. Let it move you. Let it remind you that your own creative work deserves some space, too. Trust your voice, believe that what you have to offer matters, and create something. The world may need it more than you know.

Check out Day 2 reel created to inspire and invite to creativity:

Four Weeks to Rubber Soul

On September 14, I am starting a four week creative experiment and countdown inspired by one of my favorite albums and one of the most important records in popular music history. I am getting ready for the upcoming Super Deluxe Edition of Rubber Soul, arriving October 2, and I wanted to do more than simply count the days. I want to use that time to create.

The Beatles recorded Rubber Soul in roughly a month during the fall of 1965. That still amazes me. In that brief stretch of time, they created an album that included “Drive My Car,” “Norwegian Wood,” “Nowhere Man,” “Michelle,” “Girl,” “If I Needed Someone,” and “In My Life.” During that same period, they also recorded “Day Tripper” and “We Can Work It Out.” In a matter of weeks, they created a classic that would help change the direction of popular music.

Rubber Soul marked a turning point for The Beatles. The writing became deeper. The sound became broader. The studio became part of the creative process in new ways. The band was stretching beyond what had worked before and exploring what might come next.

The impact traveled far beyond The Beatles. Brian Wilson heard Rubber Soul and was inspired to create Pet Sounds. The album also influenced bands such as The Kinks and The Rolling Stones. Decades later, its legacy remains strong. Rubber Soul entered the Grammy Hall of Fame in 2000, and “Michelle” won the Grammy for Song of the Year. It continues to appear on lists of the most important albums ever recorded.

What stays with me most is the process. Four people walked into a studio with ideas, songs, curiosity, tension, trust, and a willingness to try something different. They worked with George Martin and the Abbey Road team. They collaborated, experimented, changed direction, and kept moving.

That process is the inspiration behind Four Weeks to Rubber Soul. For the next four weeks, I am going to focus on four creative moves: Begin, Collaborate, Experiment, and Finish. Begin is about giving an idea permission to exist before it is fully formed. Collaborate is about recognizing that our work can become stronger when we allow other voices, perspectives, and gifts into the process. Experiment is about following curiosity, trying something unfamiliar, and accepting that not everything has to work the first time. Finish is about carrying the work across the line and releasing it rather than keeping it trapped in our heads, notebooks, or hard drives.

I want to see what happens when I commit to those four moves for four focused weeks. Starting September 14, I will share something every day inspired by Rubber Soul and the creative process behind it as I count down to October 2. Some days it will be a reel. Some days it will be a blog post. There will also be special riffs on Why The Beatles Matter. The goal is not simply to talk about an album I love. The goal is to use the album as a catalyst for making something.

The question I will carry through these four weeks is simple: What can we create when we trust the process, work with intention, and keep moving forward?

The first reel drops September 14. Follow along, create something of your own, tag me, and use #FourWeeksToRubberSoul so we can encourage one another through the process.

Let’s see what four focused weeks can create.

From the Blog Archives: A Dream with The Beatles

Here’s an old post from the archive that I am re-blogging. In leadership, we often times downplay dreams. Sometimes dreams are viewed as impractical and wasteful when it comes to the daily grind. I still maintain a dream as an unabashed fan of The Beatles that Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr are going to visit my schoolhouse.

Now that may seem impossible and you may dismiss me as a pitiful dreamer. Why not? Why not have a dream? Why not share that dream with others? As leaders, we are called to be human-centered. Dreams are what make us human. We must support conditions where others feel safe to share their dreams as well.

Here’s my dream that I am re-sharing with you. I hope you enjoy it. I would love to hear your dreams, too. Please feel free to leave something in the comments or share this blog on your social media channels and tag me.

Still Spinning Toward What Matters

I keep returning to the same conviction lately. Leadership is not supposed to cost us our humanity.

That belief feels more urgent now than ever. Human centered leadership is not a slogan or a presentation slide. It is a way of being that honors dignity, presence, and care. It resists the temptation to reduce people to metrics, optics, or short term performance. It recognizes the unseen weight others carry and chooses compassion anyway.

This season has tested me in ways I did not anticipate. The pressure to produce test scores has felt relentless and narrow. Health scares forced me to stop and confront my own limits without avoidance. Failure has spoken loudly at times and left me questioning my impact and my place. There were moments when leadership felt less like calling and more like endurance.

Over time, I have begun to see that failure does not always signal an ending. Sometimes it offers an invitation.

Stepping away from a role I once loved because my health required it was hard. That decision still aches occasionally, but I know that I am a better person for my family. At the same time, it created space for a new beginning. I could not see it at first. It has helped me realize I was not a failure in that gig. I was holding on too tightly to the demands of the gig that I could not see straight. I experienced another new beginning. I reached out to start a book study in my current gig. Unfortunately, no one joined. That disappointment lingered, yet the act of reaching out still mattered. My account on X was hacked and ultimately deactivated. What initially felt like loss became an unexpected redirection toward platforms where connection feels more personal and more grounded.

This season reminds me often of Paul McCartney in the immediate aftermath of The Beatles’ breakup.

McCartney did not emerge from that moment with certainty or acclaim. His first solo album, “McCartney,” was raw, homemade, and introspective. Critics dismissed it as unfinished and small. What they missed was the deeper truth. McCartney was not chasing relevance. He was healing. He was rebuilding quietly. He was making music not for applause, but for survival and clarity.

That period was not a collapse. It was a recalibration.

That analogy resonates deeply with me right now. I am not trying to recreate a past version of myself or chase a louder stage. I am learning how to rebuild in a way that is sustainable, honest, and aligned with who I am becoming. The work has become quieter, but it has also become truer.

That sense of recalibration followed me recently while watching “CBS Sunday Morning.” A segment on an upcoming book by Dr. Ezekiel Emanuel titled Eat More Ice Cream stayed with me, particularly his advice for 2026. He spoke about the importance of developing social relationships for well being and longevity. That message landed deeply. I know I need to invest more intentionally in connection. I know there may be times when invitations do not come. That possibility still stings. The commitment to reaching out remains because isolation is not sustainable for any of us. I didn’t get any takers on that book study I mentioned. But I did take a giant step to reach out to others, and that is o.k.

Leadership can be lonely. I want to name that for anyone who feels unseen or alienated right now. I have been there. I still visit that place at times. Reaching out can feel vulnerable and risky, yet it remains essential. No one should feel invisible while carrying responsibility for others.

I was reminded again of what human centered leadership looks like through my three adult daughters. Watching them lead with empathy, courage, and quiet awareness in different capacities affirmed this kind of leadership. It shows what leadership looks like when it is lived rather than announced. That moment grounded me. It also reinforced my belief that the future deserves better models than the ones we often elevate today.

There is still an ache present in my life on occasion. Gratitude and struggle exist side by side. I remain deeply thankful for the steady support of my wife and for the ongoing work of therapy. Healing continues to teach me patience, humility, and honesty. Leadership demands the same posture.

Frank Sinatra’s “Cycles” has been playing often in my space lately. The message of that particular song feels fitting. Life moves in seasons. Endings and beginnings overlap more than we like to admit. Growth rarely arrives without discomfort. As leaders, it is important for us to strive for that constant path towards growth. 

As I continue writing my upcoming second book, Leadership Riffs, clarity keeps emerging as wrestle with the ideas shared here. This work is not about spotlighting me. It is about amplifying others. I want my platforms to honor educators and leaders who show up quietly, consistently, and with courage. I want to praise those doing the real work of human-centered leadership. I also want to gently drown out the noise of performative leadership. This noise is loud, fleeting, and hollow.

There is no One Word guiding me this year. There is no formal New Year’s Resolution.

There is simply a commitment.

A commitment to purpose. A commitment to humanity. A commitment to reaching out even when the response is uncertain. A commitment to acknowledging and celebrating those who lead with sincerity, care, and belonging.

That is where I am right now. Still spinning. Still rebuilding. Still choosing what matters.