As leaders, every action, every gesture, and every word we choose has an impact on those around us, whether we are aware of it or not. And if you ask a leader if they are self-aware, the answer is almost always, “Yes.” However, the research shows that we are far less self-aware than we think we are.
As a coach, I’m constantly being humbled and invited to see things in new ways. Last week, this happened in a huge and unexpected way. I was in deep discussion with a team who was trying to figure out their new work reality. The concept of a hybrid work model is all the buzz, but what does that really mean?
As I watched the athletes march into the stadium in Beijing, my eyes welled up with tears. I am a proud Canadian and when I see the flag, my heart overflows with gratitude for this magnificent country we call home. But the tears were about something more than that.
Over the past couple of years, Fridays have lost their lustre. One day seems to blend into the next in an endless feeling of Groundhog Day. Somewhere in the fourth wave, I realized I needed to define my weekends more clearly.
Like most Canadians, I am obsessed with the weather. It’s not surprising, since it shapes our days, how we get around, what we wear and what activities we engage in. The weather moves us, inspires us, amazes us and sometimes angers us.
As you may know, every year I design and create a calendar to send to my clients. It has beautiful images of Muskoka, quotes about leadership, and a message from me.
One of my favourite moments of the year is Thanksgiving. Specifically, it’s our family tradition where each person around the dinner table takes a turn sharing what they are most grateful for. It’s a simple tradition, but it goes very deep.
As the door sealed shut, the walls of the airplane seemed to collapse inward. My heart was racing and blood rushed to my head. I heard myself say, “I might need a minute to catch my breath,” but there was no turning back. My fear of being in a confined space had officially been triggered and I needed to pull it together.
It was a gorgeous weekend afternoon and I was out on the Humber River with Justin and our friend Mandie. I leaned back in my kayak as a monarch butterfly gracefully flew overhead. The sun reflected off its wings with a flash of orange and I became mesmerized by its beauty.
The late summer sun had already dipped below the horizon as I pulled up the driveway of the home I share with my partner, Justin. What a fulfilling day! I opened the car door and the warm, humid air served as a gentle reminder that I had gotten used to air conditioning.