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Think deeply. Converse openly. Share generously.
Sometimes the best of intentions have unintended consequences.
Afghanistan in 2003 was rugged. We made do with what we had. Outstations, like Lwara and Asadabad (A-bad), were little more than walled compounds with HESCO barriers for watchtowers and bunkers dug from the rocky ground. Our kitchen was a Mk 19 ammo can with boiling water and a pan of t-rations, our shower, a Ranger Buddy with a water jug.
It’s the middle of my third Maine summer and I've discovered something unsettling about myself: I’m not very good at enjoying summer.
Here’s a snapshot to help explain what I mean: It's 2 PM on a Tuesday. The sky is that impossible shade of blue, it’s a perfect 78 degrees, and a gentle breeze carries the scent of pine and salt air…through my office window. And here I am, sitting at my desk, staring out at the world like a caged animal, practically vibrating with the need to be anywhere but here.
There's a profound difference between perseverance and endurance, and unless you’re a word-nerd or leadership consultant (I’m both), it is easy to miss. We often celebrate endurance as the ultimate virtue: the ability to withstand anything, to never break, to be invincible. But true perseverance is something else entirely.
Failing is perhaps the most universal human fear there is. The little devil whispers in our ear before job interviews, telling us we aren’t qualified enough. It allows us to concede that it will be okay to quit halfway through a marathon because it hurts too much, despite how much we trained. It tells us we’re crappy parents when our struggles in school. Fear of failure makes us second-guess every major decision - “What if?”
The real problem isn’t the fear of failing itself. It’s how we fail. When we face any challenge, we can choose one of two paths: wholehearted or half-hearted.
We humans tend to overcomplicate things, especially our personal challenges. We spend countless hours and dollars searching for the answers. We listen to all the podcasts and read all of the books. We write in our journals, meditate and ask for advice - ever hopeful that if we just keep thinking about it, we’ll eventually find a clear, and ideally painless, path toward what we’re seeking.
It is time to start planting our garden here in Maine, and the process of doing so has me thinking a lot about, what else, leadership! Stay with me, because I think this metaphor really works. Leadership is a lot like tending a garden. You must nurture the soil that feeds everything while also caring for each individual plant that struggles to thrive. Ignore the soil, and even the hardiest plants will wither. Focus only on one struggling seedling, and the entire garden suffers neglect. Success lies in the art of doing both, simultaneously and thoughtfully.
Dear Gen Z,
Here’s the truth about you. You’ve been handed a mess you didn’t create, but are responsible for cleaning up. It sucks and it’s not fair, but it is real and really critical that you take this seriously because we’re all counting on you.
Truth be told, we made a mess of things. We tried to correct the wrongs foisted upon us, and in doing so, we created different wrongs we foisted upon you. All this only to realize that the Boomers were trying to do the same for us, which resulted in the same outcomes for all. Let me explain.
Our friends in the Navy SEALs have a saying: "The only easy day was yesterday." It sounds pessimistic, but there's a profound truth there. The path forward is rarely as smooth as we imagine when we first set out. Whether you're launching a business, building a community, or working to strengthen your marriage, the journey will almost certainly be longer, harder, and more complex than you anticipated.
Does anyone else feel like they're in a season of life where everything is getting about a third of the attention it deserves? I sure do. Work projects, home maintenance, quality time with the kids, dating my husband, personal hobbies and goals, family events, enjoying downtime, etc. I'm juggling 15 balls at once, while trying to figure out which one is okay to let fall to the floor without causing the rest to. We frequently discuss this topic in our day-to-day business at ALPs. We all feel this juggling at different times; sometimes, there are weeks when we struggle together. And we’re always relying on each other. If you're anything like us, you're also trying to figure out how to improve in all of the above, not just check them off the list.
“Once is a mistake, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern.” Many of us have heard this saying before and are aware that patterns often indicate deeper systemic issues. However, although we recognize the need to address root causes, if we’re honest, it’s easy to default to treating symptoms instead of causes, and to view people as problems rather than addressing the underlying issue.
The long march of human progress resembles a trek through the range of mountains, with each summit representing a distinct economic era. At each of these local peaks along the way, we felt initially satisfied with our accomplishments, but later realized that this was not our ultimate destination and there is still higher ground up ahead. And while we are right to value how far we’ve come, we must equally appreciate how far we have to go. Each leg of the journey has strengthened us in some ways and taken a serious toll on us in others. Today, we believe we are traversing our most precarious ridgeline yet, but if we navigate it successfully, we can ascend to our highest and most significant summit – the wisdom economy.
Our family moved to Maine a couple of years ago, and though it has taken some time to settle in, we’ve really started to enjoy life here. I’m not sure if it’s the pace of life, the long winters, or the friendly people, but I have definitely felt something within me shift. And I've found myself wrestling with a question that feels both simple and profound: What does it mean to be good?
Can we learn from others’ mistakes, or do they have to be our own lessons to learn in the first place? I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately and believe we will–most of us–eventually learn the lessons life is trying to teach us. The question is not if, but when, and at what cost? The time it takes is critical to the process. It’s the cost that counts most.
Adversity is personal - it looks different for everyone. We all have varying tolerance levels for hard things, depending on our abilities and situations. One person’s “hard” isn’t going to be a challenge for someone else. The point is to know what is difficult for us and choose to do it. There’s something powerful about walking into the arena with all the nervous knots in your stomach, knowing you may struggle - and doing it anyway.
We love the beginning of a new year here at ALPs. We’re kind of geeks when it comes to fresh calendar space to plan stuff, and blank pages in a notebook for ideas. It’s a reset button of sorts, an opportunity to plan, dream and organize. But we recognize for some, the turn of the calendar can feel more like a hamster wheel - another round of setting ambitious goals, some self-motivated, others dictated by organizations, with an ever-present search for the motivation to see them through.
We are thrilled to report that Applied Leadership Partners is beginning our sixth year, and we are doing it with more momentum, optimism, and enthusiasm than ever before. That is largely, if not completely, thanks to all of you! Your trust, partnership, and encouragement are what our company is built upon and we simply could not do any of this without you - so we need to begin this letter by expressing our deepest and most sincere gratitude. We are incredibly blessed to do this for a living and we will never take that for granted. THANK YOU!
