Things I Wish I Knew When I Was Your Age

I sat down recently to write a letter to my cousin (technically my first cousin once removed), who just started basic training in the Air Force.

What began as a quick note turned into something more. A personal reflection, a bit of a manifesto, and a stack of lessons I wish someone had handed to me when I was just setting out.

By the time I hit “save,” I realized this may be worth sharing with any young person taking their first real steps into the adult world.

The letter was full of life updates, jokes, birthday party planning, movie recommendations, and the occasional 10-year-old version of myself asking random questions. But the main message was you can do hard things, and you’re not alone.

What follows are some ideas that come from years of learning, leading, failing, and reflecting. These are lessons for anyone who finds themselves on the edge of something new.

Leadership begins and ends in your head. Most of your real battles are internal. That voice in your head? It can lift you up or hold you back. Especially in an environment full of rules and pressure, how you think will define who you become. Supportive self-talk, resilient thinking, steady choices.  These are the foundational traits for leadership.

Start before you’re ready. Showing up takes more courage than people realize. You will rarely have everything figured out before you begin. Your best opportunities for growth will come from figuring things out while under pressure. That discomfort you feel is a sign that you’re on the edge of growth.

Do the next right thing. When life gets overwhelming (and it will), it helps to stop trying to solve everything all at once. Pause. Breathe. Do the next right thing. That’s enough. The bigger picture tends to take care of itself when we’re faithful and focus on the next indicated step.

You belong here. The feeling that maybe you’re not ready, or that someone else would be better suited for the challenge in front of you. That’s normal. But it doesn’t mean you don’t belong. The truth is you do belong. You’ve earned the right to be where you are. And you’re growing stronger every day, even if it doesn’t feel like it in the moment.

Respect is the foundation of everything. Not just the kind of respect that comes from rank or titles, but the kind you live out through humility, consistency, and quiet honor. When you offer that kind of respect, you build trust. And trust is what makes people want to follow your lead.

When the going gets tough, remember why you started. Every hard day will test your resolve. Every early morning, every setback, every lonely hour…these are the places where you’ll either lose sight of your purpose or anchor more deeply into it. Purpose doesn’t remove difficulty, but it gives meaning to the difficulty. And that’s enough to carry you through.

Discipline equals freedom. I shared this piece of advice that comes from Jocko Willink, former Navy SEAL, war veteran, and a powerful voice on discipline and leadership. He says, “Discipline equals freedom.” The more discipline you have, the more freedom you gain.

Discipline gives you control. Over your body, your mind, and your choices.  Freedom to choose your future. Freedom to trust yourself. Freedom to follow through, especially when motivation fades.

You won’t always feel motivated. That’s okay. Stay disciplined. Show up. Do the work. That’s how you earn freedom. One decision at a time.

“Don’t wish it were easier. Wish you were better.” A classic quote from Jim Rohn. There’s no shortage of obstacles. The goal isn’t to escape them. It’s to grow strong enough to rise above them. The learning curve is real.  Learn, adapt, overcome…become better and things will become much easier. 

About those movie recommendations I mentioned earlier. It’s probably more accurate to call them story recommendations.  Stories about honor, resilience, human ingenuity, and the willingness to keep going when things are difficult. 

We Were Soldiers, an amazingly good movie about strategic servant leadership (which is my preferred style of management), bravery, and the love that comrades in arms have for one another.  It’s a great tribute to the men who fought (many who gave their lives for the guy next to them) and their brave families back home.  I think I’ve seen it at least 25 times and I’m happy to watch it anytime. Each time I watch it, I tear up in at least 2 or 3 places in the movie. 

Ocean’s 11 and The Sting, two films that focus on creative problem solving and teamwork…though our “heroes” in these movies are con men and thieves. 

The Princess Bride made the list. The value of honor (even among combatants), mixed with the comedic and spoofy scenes make it a classic. Even in a world of duels and danger, kindness, respect and loyalty still matter.

I suggested Seveneves by Neal Stephenson. A science fiction novel (my favorite genre for at least the past 10 years) about human survival, adaptation, and rebuilding civilization after catastrophe. The premise is that an asteroid causes the moon to shatter.  What starts out as an oddity in the sky becomes a calamity as the moon breaks up into a ring and then begins to rain down to Earth (something they call the Hard Rain).  Great sci-fi, lots of human ingenuity and adaptability, and a story that covers about 5,000 years.  It’ll take some time to read, but it’s worth it.

Two books by Andy Weir.  The first is The Martian (which became a movie starring Matt Damon), and the second is Project Hail Mary.  Andy wrote The Martian in 2011 and self-published it on Amazon.  It picked up fans and became a bestseller without an “official” publisher.  His second book was called Artemis (takes place on the Moon).  It was good, but not quite as good as The Martian (which is a high standard, so I’m probably being unfair). 

His third book was Project Hail Mary.  This one is also being made into a movie, starring Ryan Gosling. It is excellent. 

The big thing about Andy’s books is that they are scientifically accurate. His characters deal with extremely complex challenges that require thinking and ingenuity to overcome. He writes in a way that entertains and teaches things you never knew.

I love that Andy wrote his first book from beginning to end without any publisher involved. Nobody was there to tell him what he was doing was the right thing.  He believed in himself, believed in the story he was telling, focused on the work, delivered a high-quality product, and proceeded to find his audience one reader at a time.     

All these stories reflect truths about the path ahead. Your journey will be hard. You’ll need grit, creativity, and perseverance. You’ll need others (family, friends, mentors, even strangers). More often than not, the tools to overcome life’s challenges will come from within yourself, quietly shaped by the stories you carry and the habits you form.

Whatever new thing you’re stepping into, whether it’s basic training, a new job, a cross-country move, or a new phase in your life, know that it’s okay to be unsure. It’s okay to feel stretched. Just remember your “why,” do the next right thing, and keep showing up with courage.

And who knows? Maybe decades from now you’ll be the one writing a letter like this, passing along what you’ve learned…

Photo by Justin Cron on Unsplash

The Way of Water

“Nothing in the world is as soft and yielding as water. Yet for dissolving the hard and inflexible, nothing can surpass it.” – Tao Te Ching, Chapter 78

Water moves around, through, or beneath whatever resists it. It adapts. And in doing so, it shapes mountains, smooths stone and carves out entire landscapes. Its quiet and steady strength endures, and transforms.

Some of history’s greatest leaders have embodied this same soft strength…few more clearly than Saint Teresa of Calcutta.

She was small in stature and quiet when she spoke. She lived a life defined by simplicity and humility. But her leadership moved nations.

Heads of state sought her advice. Governments stepped aside to let her mission continue. And her Missionaries of Charity, formed with only a handful of sisters, grew into an international force of compassion serving the poorest of the poor.

When the Indian government initially refused her permission to work in Calcutta’s slums, she didn’t protest or make demands. She simply thanked them, smiled, and began serving the dying on the streets anyway.

Her quiet, consistent actions spoke louder than any argument. Within months, officials were granting her permission and offering resources and support.

Like water finding its way through the smallest cracks in stone, she found the path through quiet, faithful persistence.

“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” – Saint Teresa of Calcutta

In leadership, force can create motion, but usually at the expense of trust, creativity, and ownership from the people you’re leading. When leaders rely on authority, titles, or pressure to drive results, they may achieve short-term compliance, but they rarely inspire long-term commitment or innovation.

Instead, they create environments where people focus on rules more than results, and on compliance rather than creative contribution.

Gentle, listening-based leadership works differently.

It adapts without losing direction. It invites people to bring the best version of themselves and creates space for their growth. Like water, it finds ways around obstacles, sometimes slowly and sometimes all at once…but always with clarity and purpose. 

Water teaches us that soft can be strong. Let it shape how you lead.

Soft, persistent power moves mountains, changes hearts, and builds trust.

One quiet drop at a time. 

Photo by Trac Vu on Unsplash

Time Does Not Heal All Wounds

“Time heals all wounds,” people say when someone we love dies. It’s a phrase offered like a Band-Aid for a broken bone. Well meaning, but inadequate for the depth of what we’re facing.

For those who have lost a daughter, a son, a spouse, a parent, a sibling, a dear friend, the truth is something different. Time doesn’t heal. It changes things, yes. It allows us to move, to function, to smile even, but it does not erase their absence. That lives inside us, a permanent resident.

When I searched for quotes and stories from others who had walked this path before me (writers, psychologists, fellow travelers through loss), I discovered that my feelings aren’t unique or abnormal.

The bereaved across time echo the same truths I’m living.

I’ve heard that grief follows a pattern of denial, anger, bargaining, withdrawal, and finally, acceptance. That may all be true. It sounds like a clean process. Just a series of steps we must go through to get to the other side.

But that path has no clean endpoint. It can stall, restart at the beginning, skip and repeat steps while never reaching a conclusion. The grieving process never ends. We merely learn to function with our grief, and we do so in our own way, as imperfectly as we do everything else in life.

Author Jamie Anderson found words for what many of us feel but struggle to express: “Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”

This captures exactly what happens when we reach for the phone to call them or save up a story we can’t wait to tell them. Only to remember a second later that they’re gone.

Grief isn’t a single event but a series of small realizations, each one a fresh cut.

C.S. Lewis, after losing his wife Joy, wrote about the persistence of absence: “Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.” In his book “A Grief Observed,” Lewis documented what it feels like to live inside loss. “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing. At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed.”

This is the lived experience of a body trying to process what the mind struggles to accept.

Joan Didion echoed this truth when she lost her husband, John Gregory Dunne. In “The Year of Magical Thinking,” she wrote, “Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it. It’s a foreign country with its own customs, its own weather, its own bewildering geography.”

There is no timeline. No tidy arc where pain transforms into peace according to some predetermined set of rules.

Dr. Lois Tonkin, working as a grief counselor in the 1990s, discovered a different truth about what healing actually looks like. A client whose child had died years earlier drew her a picture showing how her grief had initially filled her entire life. A small circle almost completely consumed by loss.

But over time, something unexpected happened. The grief didn’t shrink. Instead, her life grew larger around it. There was now space for new experiences, relationships, and meaning alongside the loss. This became known as Tonkin’s Model of Grief.

Like a tree growing around a piece of metal embedded in its trunk. We don’t absorb or eliminate the foreign object. We grow around it, incorporating it into our new shape.

This model shows us that time doesn’t diminish our grief. But it expands our capacity to hold other things along with it. Some days our grief surprises us with its suddenness. A song, a scent, a birthday or anniversary, seeing a classic car they used to drive. Other days we’re living fully in the expanded space around our grief, discovering we can hold both the wound and the wonder.

We must learn to carry the sharp pain of their absence while having gratitude for the gift of having known them at all. Our capacity to feel gratitude for the life we shared can provide much needed comfort, even though we’ll never stop missing them.

Some of the most tender truths come from those who’ve lost children. Elizabeth Edwards, who lost her 16-year-old son Wade in a car accident, offered this reminder, “If you know someone who has lost a child, and you’re afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died, you’re not reminding them. They didn’t forget they died. What you’re reminding them of is that you remembered that they lived, and that is a great gift.”

Writer Megan O’Rourke, in her memoir “The Long Goodbye” about losing her mother, captured the peculiar contrasts of grief. “You look fine. You act fine. But inside, you are not fine. And you know it will never be the same.”

This is the hard reality of grief. The simultaneous existence of functioning and not-functioning, of healing and not-healing, of being okay and not-okay. We learn to carry both states, often within the same moments.

So no, time does not heal all wounds.

Time teaches us that we can be broken and whole simultaneously. That we can miss someone terribly and still find reasons to laugh. That love doesn’t end with death. It merely changes form, expressed as the very grief we wish we could escape.

In learning to live with our wounds, we hopefully discover something about ourselves. Our capacity to grieve deeply is evidence of our capacity to love more deeply than we ever thought possible.

And maybe that’s the real truth about time and grief.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” – Mathew 5:4

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” – Psalm 34:18

“Love never ends.” – 1 Corinthians 13:8

Photo by Noah Silliman on Unsplash

When Fires Become the Work

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.

Photo by Amir Saeid Dehghan Tarzejani on Unsplash

Creating Like Children

When you watch a five-year-old, a ten-year-old, even a twelve-year-old create, you see what unfettered creative freedom really looks like. Whether it’s a drawing, a Lego tower, or a clay sculpture, they throw themselves into the process with joyous abandon. In their mind, they can see clearly what they’re making. They know why they’re making it. And there’s almost always a story behind it.

They aren’t self-conscious. They aren’t trying to impress anyone. Sure, they like to show their creations to parents, grandparents, and teachers.  But their motivation isn’t just about approval. It’s about expression.

Most children are free from the baggage of expectation. They don’t wonder if what they’re making is good enough. And when they finish, they move right on to the next thing. Their self-worth isn’t tied to the outcome. The value of the work comes from their own perspective, not from what others think.

But around age thirteen (sometimes earlier) things change.

After years of chasing approval, learning the “right” way to do things, being graded and corrected by well-meaning adults, something fundamental happens. Their freedom to create without judgment slowly gets buried. Doubt takes root. Worry about what others might think starts to shape their process. Fear of looking foolish holds them back.

And as the years pass, it only gets worse.

Tell someone you’re going to take up oil painting, stained glass, sculpture, or any new creative pursuit as an adult, and they’ll likely have two reactions: a polite smile of encouragement, and quiet skepticism that anything worthwhile will ever come of it.

Starting something creative as an adult feels strange. It’s outside the bounds of what “normal” people do. It’s far easier to stay in line, avoid looking foolish, and sidestep the discomfort of being a beginner again.

But we are all beginners at birth. Even the rare prodigies had to take their first step (the one that happens long before we see the gifted 5-year-old who can play a piano concerto). For the rest of us, every new skill—whether it’s creative, practical, or professional—requires courage, repetition, failure, and patience.

I’ve learned that when I let go of expectations (not easy) and stop worrying about looking foolish (also not easy), the magic happens. With this new frame of reference, trying something new, something creative, or something unfamiliar, brings a new energy having nothing to do with the outcomes.

It doesn’t seek approval or chase productivity. It simply opens the door to wonder—something we often unlearn as we grow older.

I’m lucky. I get to spend time with my grandchildren, who remind me what fearless creativity looks like. They show me that learning and creating, and the fun we have along the way, are all that matters. 

Maybe we all need a little more of that. 

To create like children again.

Photo by pine watt on Unsplash

Maybe So…

“Maybe so.”

It’s such a quiet phrase. Almost a shrug. A way of saying, yes, that’s true…but that’s not the whole story.

Life is full of maybe so…

This challenge I’m facing is hard. Maybe so.
Someone else got the credit I worked for. Maybe so.
The odds are stacked against me. Maybe so.
The situation is messy, complicated, unfair.  Maybe so.

Maybe so…but I’m not letting that be the final word.

Truth and hope aren’t always in competition. You can fully acknowledge the reality of something and still choose where to focus.

Perspective is a choice.

I’m tired, maybe so.
I’ve failed, maybe so.
This isn’t how I pictured it, maybe so.

But I’m also thankful.
I’m still showing up.
This might be exactly what I need, even though I may never admit it.

I’m learning to live in the tension between what is and what matters more.

We all get to decide where to place our attention.
Some people zero in on the obstacle. Others fix their eyes on the opportunity.

One sees the storm. The other watches for the rainbow.

Both are real. But only one will move you forward.

“Attitude is the difference between an ordeal and an adventure.”
— Bob Bitchin (he’s a real guy with an amazing story…stories)

Life hands us situations we don’t choose.  Detours, delays, disappointments. But attitude? That’s something we bring to the table.

Sometimes the smallest shift in mindset is what turns a setback into a story worth telling. What once felt like a burden becomes the beginning of a bold new chapter.

So yes…your facts may be true. The obstacles might be real. The weariness might be justified.

Maybe so…but this is where we’re meant to be.  Besides, this story isn’t finished.

The best parts of life come after we stop fighting the facts and start choosing the lens we use to see them.

h/t – “Yeah, I know what they say, money can’t buy everything.  Well, maybe so, but it could buy me a boat.” — Chris Janson

I smile every time I hear this song. Sometimes a little humor, a little honesty, and a down-to-earth dream are exactly what we need to reset our thinking. It’s not about the boat.  It’s about the choice to believe that something good still waits ahead…if we choose to see it.

Photo by Jarrett Fifield on Unsplash

What I Thought I Knew

What I Thought I Knew

There was a time I made a big leap “out the window.” I walked away from something I thought I had to escape. I didn’t have a detailed plan, just a deep sense that staying where I was would burn me out.

What I should have realized at the time was that while I was escaping one fire, I was just trading for another.

That’s the thing about decisions. They rarely come with clarity. They come wrapped in burdens and hope and urgency, all dressed up to look like certainty. But certainty is often just a story we tell ourselves to keep moving.

I’ve gone back and questioned plenty of decisions. I’ve hit pause, looked around, and asked, “Was that the right thing to do?”

Sometimes the answer is no. And that’s okay.

I’ve made wrong turns. I’ve said yes when I shouldn’t have. I’ve said no when I was afraid. But here’s something I’ve learned the hard way: wrong turns can still move us forward. Even the “mistakes” taught me something. Sometimes they were the only way I could learn the lessons I needed to learn.

Side note: If you can learn from watching someone else’s journey, that’s often preferable to taking the hard knocks that accompany most of the big lessons in life.

The truth is, not every decision will hold up to hindsight. And not every success will look like success right away. Some answers show themselves slowly. They show up only after struggle, reflection, and time. They need hardship to help them mature. Sometimes they even need failure.

I’m lucky. Along the way, there were people who didn’t try to fix me. They just stood with me while I figured it out. They gave me space to question, to re-route, to second guess. That kind of support is rare. And I’m grateful.

To those people: thank you. You helped me see what I wasn’t ready to see. You let me grow into the answers I didn’t even know I was seeking.

These days, I’ve learned to forgive myself for the detours. For the second thoughts. For the “what ifs” I’ll probably carry forever. I’ve changed my mind, more than once. With every shift, I’ve learned to find moments of peace.

Here’s the point: Maybe wandering is the way.

Wisdom doesn’t show up all at once. It grows, shifts, even contradicts itself. Sometimes it stumbles. Sometimes it starts over.

One thing I know for sure: What I thought I knew was only the beginning.

Photo by Andrew DesLauriers on Unsplash

The Work Before the Work

Everyone loves the big idea. The bold plan. A strong vision of what can be.

It’s easy to get excited about an amazing result.  A finished project, a better version of ourselves, a breakthrough moment. But big plans mean nothing without the tools and materials to carry them out.

Goals and aspirations get a lot of attention.  Preparation, usually not so much. 

Preparation isn’t glamorous. No one sees the early mornings, the quiet practice, the reading, the repetitions, the small decisions and adjustments that come from thinking deeply about how to be better. But that’s where everything starts. That’s the real work.

You can’t build a tower by imagining the top floor. You start by stacking bricks. And before that, you must gather the bricks. Along with mortar. Along with the tools to lift, cut, measure, and shape. That’s what preparation is.  Gathering what you’ll need to be ready when it’s time to build.

This applies to everything in life.

Want to be a better leader? Prepare by learning how to listen, how to stay calm and think under pressure, how to help your team to be their very best.

Want to level up at work? Prepare by always sharpening your skills, staying curious, looking for problems that need solutions, becoming someone your team can rely on.

Want to be a better friend, spouse, or parent? Prepare by learning to listen, to be present, and to lead with patience and love.

Want to face hard times with strength? Prepare by choosing the hard things before they choose you.

Don’t wait for life to demand something from you before you get ready. Always prepare so you will be ready.

Ask yourself:
-What materials am I gathering?

-What tools am I building?

-What productive habits am I forming when no one’s looking?

Preparation isn’t just a phase. It’s a mindset. A lifestyle. 

You’re either gathering bricks—or you’re preparing to fail.

Because in the end, you won’t rise to the level of your ambition. 

You’ll fall to the level of your preparation.

h/t – my friend Pete Hilger as we were discussing how to get building supplies to a rural Guatemalan city for a medical facility build project.  He tossed out the line, “You can’t build a tower without first gathering a lot of bricks and mortar.”

Photo by Peyman Shojaei on Unsplash

The Known vs. The Obvious: Embracing AI in the Workplace

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).      

Lessons in Failure – the Mark of a True Leader

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.

Photo by David Trinks on Unsplash