The people closest to AI technology are the most concerned about it. Our job as leaders is to do what we know is needed in this moment: to set the standards that the giants have yet to set for us, and to decide how we'll use AI and on whose terms.

Observation is essential to communication, but it requires one thing we're often unwilling to compromise on: setting down devices long enough to process what we're seeing, what we're hearing, and how we can make sense of the information around us to inform our own actions.

That's the power of shared language in a complicated moment. It's not about how many words we use, but how we use them to advance the common good.  Tyler described these short and powerful poems as working "at the atomic level of communication," the smallest unit, the place where meaning is made or lost. The words we use to describe our hardest challenges, he said, can shape our relationship to those moments. 

Every now and then, I come across a relic — some flash of a time gone by that brings me right back to who I was in that earlier moment. Just like that, and I'm the clumsy middle school kid again. Or the young and struggling professional, the new mom, the budding business owner… 

Usually, the feeling emerges when I rediscover a photo on my iPhone. Memories from this day, in some long-ago year. Sometimes it's not a photo at all, but a smell, or a place, or the sound of a voice. 

The next time a day leaves you feeling empty, resist reaching for a longer to-do list, and ask a better question instead; from "What did I get done today?" to "What did I/we move forward?"
 
You may not be able to check off as many items on your list, but I guarantee you will have made incremental progress on something much more meaningful.

Organizations that break through are rarely the loudest or the quietest. They're the ones brave enough to find the balance: to say what's true, make it matter now, and say it in a way that's worth repeating, and acting on.

Ah, the best-kept secret. It's a phrase I've repeatedly heard from nonprofit organizations, often as a point of pride and a call for marketing help. If ‘best-kept secret’ is a phrase you’ve used to describe your nonprofit, I’m going to suggest you retire it. Because the term may be limiting your organization's ability to become more well-known. 

Her questions are different by design because they invite an actual answer. Some might say Dianne’s approach is just a warmer way to start a conversation, but the longer I've gotten to know her, the more I've come to believe it's something bigger.

In times like these, with all their distraction and division, asking a real question and sticking around for the real answer is a radical act of communication.

In my office hangs a framed quote from the writer and activist Audre Lorde: "It's not our differences that divide us. It's our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences."
 
I put that quote on my wall years ago and read it daily. First spoken in September 1979 while Lorde was at a conference in New York, the words remain relevant and thought-provoking for me today.
 
Our differences don't divide us.
Or do they?

You don't build a conscious culture by announcing it. You build it by living it, in the small moments, until the standard becomes contagious. Win, lose, or draw, we can all choose to leave it better than we found it.

If you're in a season where progress feels slower than you'd hoped, I want to offer you this: there are many ways to measure growth, and even more ways to make an impact. Progress is not always obvious, and it is not always off the charts.
But it is always possible.

Nearly 20 years ago, early into owning my first company, a young employee on my team began struggling. We noticed it first through missed deadlines, followed by increased difficulty connecting with colleagues. There was a visible discomfort she wasn't ready to name, but others were picking up on.

So, what if we made listening, not talking, our greatest act of leadership? When we choose to listen, we will also choose to quiet the noise. And that one simple act can begin to bridge divides, repair harm, and re-humanize the spaces we share.

We can choose to be lost in the work, or we can choose to find meaning right where we are—even in the chaos—and let that meaning guide us forward. So today, I’ll choose to get lost in something that matters. Something small, hopeful, forward-looking. And I hope you can too.

The opportunity before us is not to be superhuman, but to be that super kind of leader, manager, or peer who says through your actions: You belong here. And you don’t have to choose between being who you are and being who we need you to be.

This is the often-unsung terrain of leadership. Wins and recognition matter, but what endures is how we support the success of others, share knowledge, and offer grace under pressure. Leadership isn't the work that earns applause—it's what we do quietly, when no one is watching.

When we learn to redeem the free spaces in our days, wherever we can find them—be it a brief walk during a busy day, 10 minutes of meditation between meetings, or an hour of quiet unstructured time—we learn to regain control of our days, our decisions, and our actions. Free space can bring us back.

If you're feeling a bit lost or overwhelmed by it all today, counter that feeling with some small acts of appreciation. Not only will you brighten someone's day, but you may also feel the glow of the gesture for days to come.

I know the feeling of wanting more from a colleague—and the feeling of personally underdelivering. Even when I’ve given something my all, sometimes the results are less than I hoped. Those moments can be defeating, and they can knock us off course. If they happen too often, they’re a certain recipe for job transition. So, I’ve come to navigate these requests differently in recent years.

This week's column is as much a call for you as it is for me. We can all benefit from a little more time together. We can all benefit from less phone time and more face time. (And no, the app on your phone does not count.) Because leadership, after all, is best practiced in the present.