Ask someone how their day went, and odds are, they’ll say, “Busy.”
Dig a little deeper, and you’ll hear about the fires they had to put out, the urgent requests from their boss, or the upset customers they had to talk in off the ledge. Everyone’s racing from task to task, reacting to whatever pops up next.
What you don’t hear—at least not often—is someone saying, “Today I worked on our 30-day goals,” or, “I spent the afternoon exploring how AI might streamline our operations,” or, “I studied what our competitors are doing better than we are.”
Most people are caught in an infinite response loop. The big questions get pushed to tomorrow, especially if the boss isn’t asking about them anyway. And often, he’s just as busy reacting to his own list of urgent problems.
Response mode is easy. You don’t have to choose what matters most. Just deal with what’s in front of you. There’s no time for stepping back, rethinking the process, or preventing tomorrow’s fires today. You stay busy. That way, you can tell yourself you’re still needed.
And when the day ends, you can point to everything you handled and feel like you earned your paycheck.
But the real questions are: Did you move any of your monthly, quarterly, or annual goals forward? Do you even know what they are?
For many, the answers are no and definitely no.
Working in the business is the default. It’s safe and familiar. It keeps your hands full.
Working on the business is different. It takes time, thought, and courage. It means facing questions without clear answers. It means exploring new tools, unlearning old habits, and imagining better ways to serve your customers.
No fires today? Is your boss on vacation? Sounds like an easy day.
But if no one thinks about what’s next, if no one is asking what should change or improve, and if no one is steering the ship, that ship will eventually drift. Maybe into a storm. Maybe into the rocks.
And no one will notice until it’s too late.
So, ask yourself: Are you steering, or just responding?
Side note: These questions apply outside of work. If we’re not actively steering in our personal lives, we can just as easily find ourselves in a storm we could have avoided, running aground on some rocks, or drifting aimlessly out to sea.
Imagine owning a well-trained thoroughbred racehorse. Born and bred for speed, this horse thrives on competition and lives to run fast.
Every day, six days a week, this horse trains relentlessly. It has one purpose and one passion: running and winning races. Nothing else matters.
But on race day, you grow cautious. You worry, despite all the training, despite the horse’s proven skill, that it might not pace itself properly. So, you ask the jockey to override its instinct to run fast. You instruct the jockey to hold back the reins from the start.
As the race unfolds, your horse struggles against this restraint. Instead of feeling exhilarated, it grows frustrated. Its natural drive diminishes with each stride as the jockey pulls back, second-guessing the horse’s desire to run.
Finally, as the last turn approaches, the jockey releases the reins and shouts encouragement. It’s time to unleash all that pent-up speed.
But the horse no longer cares. He’s not even paying attention. He lost his competitive edge about a half mile ago as the jockey kept holding him back. Sure, the horse goes through the motions, picking up just enough speed to appear engaged, to show respect for the jockey’s urging. But the spark is gone.
This is a very fast horse, so even his partial effort makes for a close finish. But unfortunately, the horse doesn’t win the race. One he could have easily won if he hadn’t been held back from the start.
If you’re a manager, how often do you treat your employees like this horse? How often do you hold them back from doing the very thing you hired them to do? Do you second-guess their instincts, micromanage their decisions, and restrain their natural abilities out of fear, caution, or to protect your ego?
Consider how demoralizing it is for your team when you take away their autonomy. The freedom to run their own race. When employees lose the ability to make meaningful decisions, their enthusiasm, creativity, and ownership suffer. These are the very qualities that fuel success, and when suppressed, diminish the team’s potential and their performance.
Take a look around your organization. Are your people fully engaged, and running with purpose? Or have you inadvertently drained their passion and energy by holding them back?
There’s something else that’s easy to overlook. When you don’t allow your people to take on challenges, make decisions, and occasionally stumble, you’re not just holding them back today. You’re limiting who they can become tomorrow. Without the opportunity to stretch, fail, and grow, your employees can’t develop the judgment and endurance that leadership demands.
Playing it safe and keeping them on a tight rein risks weakening your bench strength and jeopardizing your organization’s ability to thrive in the future. We’re not just running one race; we’re running a never-ending series of tough races that stretch out long into the future.
Imagine how powerful your organization could be if you simply let your thoroughbreds—all the talent and skills you’ve carefully assembled—run their races the way they know best. Imagine letting them succeed and fail with your support, as part of your team, and not just your assistant waiting for you to make all the decisions.
It’s time to loosen the reins and let the ponies run. Because if you don’t, they might find somewhere else where they can.
At kilometer 32 just south of San Felipe, where warm breezes wandered, and stars blanketed the sky — more stars than anywhere I’ve ever been.
Off-road racing brought us there, wide sandy beaches just a short walk away, bathtub-warm waters stretching out forever, the tides carving their quiet stories in the sand.
Under their shady palapa, watching the sun rise and fall on the horizon, Mom and Dad built their place from scratch, one humble project at a time. It was luxury camping at its very best.
Their place was just across the arroyo from the beach, where Dad taught Julianne to drive a stick shift on the wide-open sand.
How I long to beam back there. To see them again.
To hear their voices busy with new plans, to see what they’ve been working on, to sit with them in the shade at cocktail hour, chips, salsa, and all the shrimp we could eat, as the afternoon melts softly into evening.
I’d love to hear who’s come to visit lately.
Both are gone now, but the memories remain. Their laughter rides the breeze, as fresh as the salty air, that still stirs in my heart.
Backstory: A Campo Sahuaro Adventure
When Mom and Dad bought their lot around 1988, it was nothing more than a small concrete slab and four stakes marking the corners of their sandy “oasis.” What made this campo special was its access to a fresh water well…rare in that part of Baja.
Their lot sat on a bluff overlooking an arroyo, with the Sea of Cortez just beyond the sandy beach. In Mexico, buying a lot like this meant purchasing a long-term lease from the property owner. As long as you pay the annual lease (which was under $1,000 per year) you control the land. Anything they built on it was theirs.
Because Mexico has nationalized property in the past, many Americans build semi-permanent structures that can be dismantled and hauled away if needed. That kind of caution remains, even though nothing like that has happened in a very long time.
Being a concrete guy, Dad’s priority was pouring a lot of concrete. He laid down a huge patio that would become the base for everything else, including one of the largest shade structures I’ve ever seen. It didn’t happen overnight. This was a multi-trip (multi-year) endeavor, often coinciding with supporting Team Honda’s off-road racing efforts. They’d haul supplies and tools down along with pit equipment. In the early ’90s, sourcing building materials in Baja was still hit or miss so they brought most of what they needed with them.
By around 1991, Dad was ready to build a workshop. It would be like a shipping container, made of wood, with big swing-down doors on each end that doubled as ramps. He welded little leveling stands to the top of each door so they could serve as sleeping platforms when opened. I slept on those doors under the stars every chance I got.
As with everything at Campo Sahuaro, there’s a story behind that build.
We were down there pitting for Team Honda, which meant several fellow pit crew members were staying at my parents’ place. At that point, it was mostly a shaded patio and a small pump room. Many of the guys were carpenters, so they brought their tools and were ready to build.
Dad’s motorhome was packed. The center aisle was filled with 2x4s, stacked at least five feet high. Getting around inside was nearly impossible. Behind the motorhome, he towed a converted motorcycle trailer that he’d built at least ten years earlier. It was loaded with a perfectly stacked cube of 4×8 plywood sheets. The walls of the future workshop.
I happened to be traveling with them on that trip, ready to help with both pitting and construction. About 50 miles from the campo, we heard a loud crash and scraping noise. We were driving across a dry lakebed, the road raised 15–20 feet above the flat terrain. I looked out just in time to see the trailer tumbling down the embankment.
Dad got the motorhome stopped, and we rushed out to assess the damage. The trailer tongue had sheared clean off under the weight of the plywood. Thankfully, it hadn’t failed earlier, during high-traffic sections of our trip. The trailer was upside down in the lakebed, still lashed to its cargo. That cube of plywood was completely intact.
Within minutes, two vans carrying some of our crew pulled up behind us. We counted heads — at least ten of us, including a few high school football players. It wouldn’t take long to relocate all that wood.
A chain gang formed. We passed sheet after sheet of plywood up the embankment and loaded it onto the vans, lashing them down with tie-downs and ropes we’d salvaged from the trailer. We even hauled the trailer carcass back up the hill. At the very least, we figured we’d salvage the tires and axle.
That’s when an old Toyota pickup rolled up. A local man hopped out. I greeted him with my high-school-turned-Baja-race-pit-guy-Spanish. Lots of smiling, gesturing, and broken sentences later, we learned he was a welder and fabricator. He was heading to San Felipe to visit family and watch the race.
He looked over our trailer, nodding thoughtfully. He said he could take the trailer on his truck bed along with the remains of the tongue and hitch. He’d rebuild it and leave the rebuilt trailer at his brother’s restaurant in San Felipe. We asked him how much he’d charge us for that service. His response was $20(!).
I confirmed that his plan was to haul our trailer back to his shop (about 40-50 miles back), rebuild it, and then he’d tow it all the way down to San Felipe for $20. We told him there was no way we’d let him do that for anything less than $200. His eyes got real wide. I don’t think he believed what I was saying. I said that we’d gladly pay him that amount for all that he’d be doing for us.
We loaded the trailer carcass onto his truck bed, shook his hand, and paid him the agreed $200. We wouldn’t be able to see him at the conclusion of the job, so pre-payment was our only option. He turned around with his new load and headed back to his shop.
We mounted up and continued to Campo Sahuaro, wondering if we’d ever see that trailer again.
The Workshop Rises
The race went great. The workshop was built in a day or two with the expert help of our crew. The carpenters led the way and the rest of us did our best to help and stay out of their way. Copious amounts of alcohol were consumed around the campfire, many snacks and excellent meals were eaten, heroic stories (some of them true) were shared with lots of laughter along the way.
On the way home, we stopped at Baja 2000, the restaurant where our mystery welder said he’d leave the repaired trailer. And there it was.
Not only had he fixed it. He’d reinforced it, straightened the bent parts, and welded it all back together better than before.
Legacy
Over the years, I visited Campo Sahuaro many times, sometimes with my wife and daughters. As mentioned earlier, Dad taught my oldest daughter to drive a stick shift truck on the beach in front of their place when she was probably 12 or 13 years old.
I loved knowing the stories behind everything built there. Most of the stories involved improvisation, imagination, and always perseverance. There were a ton of lessons at their property about staying focused and overcoming obstacles in the pursuit of your goals.
I loved sleeping under that blanket of stars, watching satellites traverse the sky (there’s a lot more of them up there nowadays). I loved swimming in the warm ocean. Most of all, I loved being with Mom and Dad, sharing good times and making memories with them at their special place, 32 kilometers south of San Felipe.
p/c – I asked ChatGPT to make an image of a starry night on the beach based on my story. Amazingly, the image it rendered is mostly how I remember it…except for the houses on the front row (Mom and Dad’s place was on the second row), and the dry-docked fishing skiffs that used the campo as their base of operations.
I heard this a while back and it resonated with me. That it’s a privilege to be under pressure.
At first, this may seem counterintuitive. Pressure can feel heavy. It weighs on us, steals our sleep, tightens our chest.
The pressure to perform. Pressure to deliver results. Pressure to be the best spouse, parent, grandparent, or friend we can be.
Pressure to grow. Improve. Rise to the moment.
We feel pressure because someone is counting on us. Our family. Our coworkers. Our teams. Our communities.
That pressure? It only exists where there’s a purpose. It’s a signal that we matter to someone. That our role isn’t meaningless. That someone out there is relying on us to show up, do our best, and help them move forward.
The alternative?
No responsibilities. No pressure at all. No one looking our way. No one expecting anything from us. No one counting on us.
No promises, no demands (we don’t get enough Love is a Battlefield references in life).
Maybe, no purpose.
The next time you feel the world pressing in, take a deep breath and reframe the situation.
That weight on your shoulders? It’s a sign of trust. A signal of opportunity. A reminder that you have a place in someone else’s story.
In the end, pressure is a byproduct of the privilege to lead, to love, and to serve.
To assume that delays are normal. That long lead times are just “the way things are.” That bureaucracy is an immovable force we’re all meant to quietly and endlessly orbit.
But here’s the question we should be asking: Does something really take months to get done…or is that just the rut talking?
Ruts are sneaky. They dress up as policies, forms, regulatory frameworks, meetings, approvals.
They start small. Maybe with one postponed decision or an overcautious email. Before long, they’re a deep trench. One that feels safer to live in than escape.
Some processes do require time. Some decisions need careful research and thoughtful consideration.
But not everything takes as long as we pretend. And if we’re being honest, we often lean on red tape as a crutch. To justify inaction, to mask fear, to cover for indecision, to avoid risk. Maybe to avoid the work altogether.
We say things like:
-“That’s how our system works.”
-“These things take time.”
-“We’ll have to check with Legal.”
-“I’m waiting on approvals before I can move forward.”
But what if we stopped waiting?
The 10 Million Dollar Question:
If you or your organization were promised $10 million the moment this project is completed—this thing you’re currently delaying—how long would it actually take to finish?
-How focused would you suddenly become? -How many hurdles would get knocked out of your way? -How quickly would meetings be scheduled, decisions made, and steps taken?
If your answer is “much faster,” then the rut is running the show. You’re not stuck. You and your organization are settling for the slow lane.
What if we challenge the assumptions about how long things should take?
What if we stop admiring and massaging the problem and started solving it?
What if we stop delegating or offloading the issue to another department, and just fixed it ourselves…today?
Organizations that resist the rut move faster. They ask better questions. They take the time to consider how to eliminate hurdles. They focus on outcomes, not just process. They know when structure helps, and when it hinders. They trim what’s unnecessary and protect what’s essential.
This isn’t about being reckless. It’s about refusing to be lulled into complacency. It’s about bringing urgency back to the table.
It’s about remembering that progress often begins with someone brave enough to say: “Why not now?”
If you’re feeling stuck, ask yourself: -Are you really bound by rules and timelines? Or just by a habit of delay?
Resist the rut.
Challenge the default.
Challenge the impossible and make it possible.
Push for better.
It might take less time than you think.
h/t – my colleague, Jacob Smith. An extremely productive and prolific software development manager who regularly challenges the default and always pushes for better.
For years, we’ve heard that Artificial Intelligence (AI) will revolutionize industries. The idea is so prevalent that it’s easy to stop actively thinking about it. We acknowledge AI in headlines, in passing business conversations, and in abstract discussions about the future. Yet, much like a fish is unaware of the water surrounding it, we’ve been immersed in AI without fully recognizing its impact.
That impact is now undeniable. The question is: will we embrace it—or ignore it at our peril?
AI as the Invisible Force
AI is no longer a futuristic concept, or a background presence. It’s embedded in the tools we use every day, from the smartphones in our pockets to the chatbots handling our customer inquiries. It powers business decisions, optimizes operations, and influences nearly every industry.
Yet, because AI is so familiar, we often overlook it. The term itself has become a cliché—almost old news. Something we assume we understand. But do we? How much do we really know about its capabilities, its limitations, or its potential disruptions?
Many still view AI as a distant idea, relevant only in the future or in industries far removed from their own. This perspective is outdated.
The Shift from “Known” to “Obvious”
AI is a driving force that can shape how we work, compete, and innovate. Organizations that continue treating AI as an abstract concept risk being blindsided by its rapid evolution.
This shift—from AI being “known” to becoming “obvious”—is critical. The moment we stop seeing AI as some far-off development and recognize it as an immediate force, we can take meaningful action.
Make no mistake: AI will transform your organization, whether you engage with it or not. The only choice is whether you’re leading that change or struggling to catch up.
The Cost of Waiting
A passive approach to AI is no longer viable. Waiting for the “right time” to adopt AI means falling behind competitors who are already leveraging its power. Yes, AI is complex, and yes, there are risks. But the greater risk lies in hesitation.
I’m old enough to remember the early days of the internet (I’m that old). Most businesses dismissed it as a fad. Others chased the new idea with reckless abandonment and wasted tons of time and money. But a relative few (at the time) experimented, learned, made incremental changes, and ultimately thrived in their use of the new “internet-powered” approach. Not to mention all the new multi-billion (trillion) dollar businesses that were made possible by the internet.
AI is following a similar trajectory. Many are ignoring, even shunning, AI as something other people will figure out. They don’t want to be the one pushing these new ideas within their organization. It’s easier to stay in the background and wait for someone else to take the leap.
But others are already leaning in (to coin a phrase), experimenting, and learning. They are incrementally (and sometimes dramatically) shaping a new future…and remaining relevant in the process.
Learn the Basics
AI adoption doesn’t require immediate mastery. It starts with small, intentional steps.
You don’t need to be an AI expert, but understanding its core functions and business applications is essential.
Start by exploring industry-specific AI tools already in use. How did I make this list? You guessed it, I asked ChatGPT to give me a list of industry-specific AI tools in use today. Will each one be a winner? Not sure, but it’s a great list to use as a starting point:
–Retailers use Amazon Personalize and Google Recommendations AI for AI-driven product suggestions, improving customer engagement and sales.
–Marketers leverage HubSpot AI for automated email campaigns, Persado for AI-powered ad copywriting, and Seventh Sense for optimizing email send times.
–Financial analysts turn to Bloomberg Terminal AI for market insights, Kavout for AI-driven stock analysis, and Zest AI for smarter credit risk assessments.
–Healthcare professionals rely on IBM Watson Health for AI-assisted diagnostics and Olive AI for automating administrative hospital tasks.
–Manufacturers use Siemens MindSphere for AI-powered predictive maintenance and Falkonry for real-time industrial data monitoring.
–Customer service teams integrate Forethought AI for automated ticket triaging and Zendesk AI for intelligent chatbot interactions.
–HR and recruitment teams utilize HireVue AI for AI-driven candidate screening and Pymetrics for bias-free talent assessment.
Experiment with Broad-based AI Tools
Don’t wait for the perfect strategy. Start small. Generalized AI tools can improve various aspects of your business (again, I asked ChatGPT for this list):
–Conversational AI & Research: Tools like ChatGPT, Claude.ai, or Anthropic’s AI help generate content, answer complex questions, summarize reports, and assist in brainstorming sessions.
–Automation: Platforms such as Zapier AI, UiPath, and Notion AI automate workflows, streamline repetitive tasks, and generate notes and summaries.
–Data Analysis: Solutions like Tableau AI, ChatGPT’s Code Interpreter (Advanced Data Analysis), and IBM Watson process and visualize data for better decision-making.
–Customer Engagement: AI-driven tools such as Drift AI, Intercom AI, and Crystal Knows enhance customer service, lead generation, and sales profiling.
These are just a few of the many AI-powered tools available today. The landscape is constantly evolving. Exploring AI solutions that fit your specific needs is the key to personal and professional growth.
Cultivate a Growth Mindset
Learning AI is a journey, not a destination. It’s okay to make mistakes. It’s actually necessary. Feeling uncomfortable is a sign of growth. The more you experiment, fail, and adjust, the more effectively you’ll integrate AI into your work. AI isn’t about instant perfection. It’s about continuous learning.
Lead from the Front
If you’re in a leadership role, set the tone. Your team will look to you for guidance. Show them that AI adoption isn’t just an IT initiative. It’s a mindset shift.
Encourage experimentation, provide resources, and support a culture of AI-driven innovation. Companies that will thrive with AI aren’t the ones waiting for a complete plan. They’re the ones embracing AI through hands-on learning and iterative improvement while incorporating these new discoveries into their future plans.
The Future is Now
AI is not a distant disruptor—it’s an active force shaping today’s workplace. Organizations that recognize this and take action will thrive. Those that don’t will be left behind.
It’s time to stop treating AI as a theoretical innovation and start engaging with it as a business reality.
The future isn’t waiting, and neither should you.
Photo credit: The graphic was generated by DALL-E. I asked it to generate an image of an office on the ground floor that captures the essence of the blog post I had just written.
In its first few attempts, it tossed in robots sitting amongst the office workers. I like to think of myself as a forward thinker, but I’m not quite ready to accept that reality…even though I’m sure it’s rapidly approaching. I asked DALL-E to eliminate the robots (for now).
There’s a saying that often floats around in entrepreneurial circles: “Fail fast, fail often.” While the origins of this phrase are up for debate, its lesson is clear. Failure isn’t just an inevitable part of leadership. It’s one of the most defining. How a leader reacts to failure (their own or their team’s) can reveal their true character and shape the trajectory of their future success.
But here’s the thing: writing about failure and leadership can quickly sound like a series of cliches. We’ve all heard the platitudes about “learning from mistakes” and “rising stronger.” But there’s a deeper message about what truly separates those who lead with integrity and vision from those who crumble when things go wrong.
When failure strikes, leaders face a choice. They can own it, adapt, and come back stronger. Or they can point fingers, wallow in resentment, and stall out. The decision often happens in an instant, but its impact can last a lifetime.
Great leaders take ownership of failure, even when it’s not entirely their fault. Why? Because owning failure builds trust. When a leader says, “This didn’t go as planned, let’s discuss what we’ll do to fix it,” they inspire confidence. They create a culture where the team feels safe to take risks, knowing that mistakes are part of growth, not reasons for punishment.
When leaders blame others, they erode trust. Pointing fingers, whether at the team, external circumstances, or bad luck, signals an unwillingness to reflect and adapt. Over time, this creates a toxic environment where innovation dies and progress stalls.
“Fail fast, fail often” isn’t about being reckless. It’s about embracing experimentation and accepting that not every idea will succeed. Failing quickly means you can pivot sooner, learn faster, and ultimately get to a better solution.
This idea requires two things:
Humility: The willingness to admit when something isn’t working.
Agility: The ability to adapt and try again without becoming paralyzed by setbacks.
Elon Musk is a great example. From continual iterations of experimentation and failure at SpaceX—including multiple RUDs (rapid unscheduled disassembly in rocket speak)—to the challenges Tesla faced in scaling production and support, he’s built companies on the idea of learning through failure. Musk doesn’t see failure as an end point. He sees it as feedback. A necessary step on the path to success.
To handle failure effectively, leaders need more than optimism. They need a process. Here’s a simple approach that works (notice I didn’t say it’s an easy approach):
-Recognize the failure and what it means. Be transparent with your team.
-Reflect on what went wrong without assigning blame. Focus on systems and strategies, not personal shortcomings.
-Identify key takeaways. What worked? What didn’t? What’s worth trying again?
-Adjust your approach based on lessons learned.
-Recommit to the goal with a renewed focus and determination.
Failure doesn’t only teach leaders how to solve problems. It shapes their emotional intelligence (if they allow it). Leaders who’ve faced setbacks tend to have more empathy and patience. They’ve had to overcome multiple failures themselves, so they know how challenging failures can be for their teams.
When leaders normalize failure, they create cultures where people aren’t afraid to take risks or push boundaries. That’s where breakthroughs happen.
The mark of a true leader isn’t perfection. It’s how they handle failure. Whether they embrace it as a teacher or fear it as an enemy. The choice of owning mistakes, adapting, and persevering defines not just their success, but the success of everyone they lead.
The next time failure arises, ask yourself: Will I let this moment shape me for the better? Will I lead my team through it with grace and determination? Will we learn from this failure?
The answers will set the course for everything that follows.
“You can have everything in life you want, if you will just help enough other people get what they want.” – Zig Ziglar
I remember a friend of mine who was promoted from being a very successful salesman to being the branch manager for a large insurance company. It is amazing to think this was almost 30 years ago.
He told me that he’d finally get to tell people what to do, and he looked forward to that. Plus, he’d get to take long lunches and charge the lunches to his expense account.
I knew that if that was his approach to his new manager role, he’d probably fail miserably…and quickly. I told him as much.
I suggested that he start by meeting with his new team members one-on-one. Just because he’d worked alongside many of them before didn’t mean he knew them well enough as their manager. I encouraged him to take the time to understand each of their roles, how they saw their future, and what they hoped to see change at the company.
I said it would help him get to know them and, even more importantly, show them he valued them and wanted them to succeed. And if he let them know that he needed their help, too, it would go a long way. This wasn’t just his chance to lead, it was a chance to connect directly with each team member.
He thought that was a waste of his time. He had been a very successful salesman, knew how the company operated, and already knew what made the branch tick. He told me that he knew what needed to be fixed and he’d hit the ground running to get those changes implemented.
I saw him again about three or four months later. When I asked him how his new job was going, he just shook his head. “Not good. Nobody is listening to me. I’ve had a couple of people quit already, and I think some others are out looking for new jobs. Our sales are way down. My boss is asking me what I’m going to do about it.”
I didn’t say, “I told you so,” but that’s what I was thinking. A few months later, he was demoted back to sales, but at the lower pay structure in place for new hires. Not long after that, he left the company.
I’ve been blessed with multiple opportunities to take over business operations in fields where I had little or no expertise or experience. Sometimes, from outside looking in, I had some ideas about how things should operate, but I always kept it to myself when I arrived.
Even in situations where I thought I knew all the answers, I purposely and methodically asked as many questions as possible. I took my own advice to meet with as many employees as possible, asking them about their job, how they do it, why they do it, where they hope to be in the future, the problems they are having, the things the company is doing wrong, the things the company is doing right. There are no wrong answers in these types of discussions.
It is truly amazing how much a new manager can learn from the people already in place, especially if that manager genuinely wants those people to be successful. It also helps to be extremely curious and thirsty to learn as many details about an operation as possible.
The most successful managers I’ve known have operated this way. They ask questions and listen carefully to the answers. They work as hard as they can to help each of their team members get what they want (as Zig so eloquently said).
If you’re stepping into a leadership role with the mindset of lording authority over others, expecting everyone to follow your lead just because you’re in charge, you might have short-term success, but it won’t last. Real leadership is about seeking ways to enrich others and the organization before yourself. And in doing so, you build an environment of trust where people thrive and truly enjoy their work.
Helping others succeed isn’t just a management tactic. It’s the only way to real success.
I’ve probably hiked or biked hundreds, maybe thousands of trail miles in my life. Most of the trails had been there for many years…even decades.
Other than clearing some fallen branches from a trail or participating in a trail volunteer day, I never gave much thought to how the trails were built, or who originally built them. They were always there. It didn’t matter if the trails started out as animal paths, or were built by hand, carved through the forest. The trails seemed to belong right where they were.
My perspective shifted when we were fortunate enough to purchase acreage that includes a forested hillside, a mostly dry pond, rocky escarpments, and a meadow thick with trees and scrub brush.
Where others may have seen a tangle of impenetrable forest, I could see trails winding through it, paths crisscrossing up and down the hill, around the pond, and maybe a little campsite down in the meadow under the tall trees.
I had no idea where to start or where exactly the trails would go. I just knew the hillside and meadow were calling for a trail system and a campsite that my family and friends could enjoy exploring for years to come.
When we moved here, I didn’t own a chain saw, a tractor, or any of the fancy attachments that make tractors such useful (and fun) tools. I had the standard set of homeowner hand tools from our lifetime of living in a tract home that didn’t have a yard big enough for a lawn.
The real work began when our new property was hit by a 90 mile per hour derecho that effectively found all the unhealthy trees and snapped them in half or knocked them to the ground. As I worked my way across our property over the next six months, cutting and clearing all of the downed trees (40-50 trees in all), I got a ton of practice with my new chainsaws, my upgraded tractor (the small one we purchased initially didn’t cut it, so I did what every tractor guy worth his salt does when faced with this dilemma…I upsized), the 5-foot brush hog attachment, and the front loader grapple attachment.
As I worked to complete the clearing process, I could see where new trails might go. As I brush-hogged large swaths of overgrown scrub brush and brambles, new openings showed themselves. In the areas where I cleared away the dead and fallen trees, nice new grassy areas greeted the sunlight that finally penetrated to the ground. I could see how trimming up some of the remaining trees would improve the sight lines through the area.
Once the land clearing process was mostly done, the real trailblazing process began. Deciding exactly where to cut the trails, which routes worked best given the lay of the land, the gradient of the hillside, natural features, and tree coverage. Could I veer up and to the right a bit to maintain the trail flow while leaving more trees intact? Will a hiker be able to maintain their footing if I use the existing (slightly) flatter terrain on the hillside? Can I make this trail intersect in an interesting way with the other one that’s 200 yards away?
So far, I’ve been talking about literal trails and the (rewarding) process of carving a trail system by hand into my property. I’ve known my share of trailblazers in life and work, and I’ve even been one myself on occasion. It’s funny how, like the paths I was carving through the woods, new trails—whether they’re businesses, inventions, ideas, or methods—often seem inevitable after the fact.
Once they’re established, they feel as if they’ve always been there. But every one of those trails began with someone willing to face the unknown, to push forward without a clear end in sight, risking failure or embarrassment in the name of carving a new path.
Only the people who actually built these trails know what it took to get there. The obstacles that had to be moved, the dead ends they hit along the way, their moments of doubt. They alone understand the learning curve, the time, and the sheer energy it took to bring the trail to life. And as they move forward, bit by bit, the final route often ends up looking different from what they first imagined.
Our new trail system is amazing. It has straight sections, switchback sections, offshoots, shortcuts, climbs, and descents. Parts of the trail are under a tunnel-like canopy of thick forest and other areas open to the sky, providing amazing hilltop views. Walking along the trails feels like the landscape was made for them…even though there were countless hours of planning, experimenting, cutting, clearing, and adapting along the way.
Sometimes the trailblazer is driven by an obsessive need to see where the trail can go. To see what lies over the next hill, or around the next bend. Others visualize how their trail will be enjoyed for years (decades?) to come.
While their motivations may differ, the result is often the same. A path that seems to have always been, enjoyed by countless people who may never stop to wonder how it got there.
For those who wonder, the trail offers something more than just a route. It’s a reminder that someone, somewhere, once walked an untamed path and decided it was worth carving a trail for those who’d come later.
A professional manager understands that managing is an active role. It requires proactive effort, not just sitting back and overseeing tasks. A good manager knows how to delegate responsibility and authority. It’s a key skill that helps multiply their impact and develop the next generation of leaders.
There’s no shortage of books and articles that dive deeply into the art of delegation. Many are worth reading and putting into practice. But here’s the thing: no matter how much you delegate, you can’t delegate your influence. That personal touch—the way you listen, share your perspective, and guide the conversation—is something only you can bring to the table.
Managers have a unique viewpoint. They understand the critical questions facing the organization in a way others often don’t. Their value lies in their ability to communicate directly, to really hear what’s being said (and often what isn’t), and to guide the organization toward the right path. That’s what makes their influence so crucial.
Now, picture this: a manager sends one of their team members to a meeting with internal customers. The goal? For the subordinate to represent the manager’s ability to listen, understand, and guide the discussion. Sure, it can work if that person has full decision-making authority and can make agreements that hold the manager accountable. But that’s rarely the case.
So, we come back to the reality: a manager has to prioritize where they spend their time and energy, making sure they’re showing up where their influence is most needed. It’s not just about sitting in meetings or making decisions on the fly—it’s about really understanding the dynamics in play, both spoken and unspoken.
A manager’s influence over the direction of projects, processes, and people can’t be handed off. At best, subordinates can carry a “shadow” of that influence. It might get the job done, but it’s not likely to push the organization in the bold direction it needs to go.
In the end, while delegation is a powerful tool, influence is personal. And if you’re serious about leading, you need to make sure you’re showing up where it counts.
Grandpa Bob Encouraging Leadership 
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