Don’t fear the splatter. Fear the spotless kitchen with nothing to eat. Progress is messy. And progress is the point.

Tools break. Systems flake. But the simple tricks — send a DM, scribble a note, write on your hand — those will always carry you.

Roles don’t carry teams. Rhythm does. See the people. Sense the shifts. Balance. Support. Move.

Halfway through PTO and thriving in full potato mode. Zero plans, maximum vibes.

All the planning, all the process, all the polish — it circles back to the same thing: Are we going to be OK?

Rest. The quiet prep before the next push.

Not every carrot is worth chasing. The art is pausing mid-bite, mid-scroll, mid-ping, and asking: which one really matters right now?

That instant when everyone silently admits: the chaos is too much. Time to stop, reset, and literally get on the same page.

Green checkmarks don’t guarantee progress. It’s not about the badge or the acronym. It’s about whether you solved the problem that really matters.

A note to my younger self: stay stubborn, stay strange, and write it all down. You’ll need it more than you think.

Sunday’s adventure? Spelunking my own notes. Wandering deep, finding hidden connections, surfacing with insights I didn’t expect.

Back again with another Lines post — this time pulling from Wind, Break, Post-it, Try, and Noise. Five lines, five stories, and the little sparks hiding inside them.

BRB. Gone fishin'.

Some temptations shout. Others barely murmur. Either way, the real work is noticing them — and choosing whether to lean in or let them pass.

Conf. That collective spark — the gasp when something new lands — but also the quiet recognition of everything it took to get here.