Author’s note: Selecting the right image for each article I write is part of the work. But it’s also a part I relish because I’m a visual person myself. When I come across something that halts my eye, I know I’ve found it. As it happened this week. What you see in the image above is something hikers will recognize. It’s a trail marker. It’s information for hikers, left by someone who went before. For us, it confirms that failure can be framed as a useful signal rather than a warning. Either from our own previous experience or that of others.

You delay the decision. You research it one more time. You hold onto the thing longer than you should. You avoid the conversation.

Do any of those sound familiar? They certainly do to me.

We tell ourselves we’re being careful, or just thorough. That we’re being responsible. But most of the time, we’re only fooling ourselves with those platitudes.

We’re not weighing the decision at all — we’re avoiding what we think failure would mean if we got it wrong.

We’ve been taught to read failure as a warning sign. Something to flinch from. Something that shows up at the end of a bad decision, confirming we shouldn’t have made it.

But what if we’ve been reading the signal backwards?

What if failure isn’t the consequence of a decision — but one of the inputs required to make better ones?

Here’s the line I keep coming back to from the work I’m doing now:

Everything makes something else possible. Including failure.

Failure isn’t there to stop you. It’s there to work for you — if you’ll let it.

That shift — from failure as risk to failure as a resource — changes everything downstream. It changes what you’re willing to try. It changes how long you will sit with a decision before you make it. And it changes what you do with the ones that don’t go the way you hoped.

All of that brought me to the thoughts I want to share with you here and to walk through what failure actually does for us when we stop treating it like an enemy and start treating it like a collaborator.

Seven things, one for each letter of the word itself.

F — Freedom

A — Awareness

I — Interrupt

L — Leverage

U — Uncover

R — Reframe

E — Elevate

That’s a progression.

Release. See clearly. Break the pattern. Use what you’ve got. Expand the possible. Change the meaning. Rise with it.

That’s the arc. Let’s walk it together.

FREEDOM

There are many reasons we avoid decisions. But the reason most people will give, when pressed, is fear. Not just any fear — the fear of failure. What if I get it wrong? What if this derails everything? So fixated on what could go wrong, we lose sight of what we’re resisting on the other side of the decision.

That’s why, to fully embrace failure as not just an unavoidable part of life but a necessary part of success, we have to free ourselves of that fear. Once we recognize that we have agency over the decision and everything that follows, we can see it as part of how and what we build, rather than a verdict on our worth.

For many years, I passed up opportunities to advance in my career because I was afraid I would be rejected for not having a college degree. I didn’t think I would fail at the job. I thought I would fail at getting the job. Rather than have to face that rejection (failure), I just didn’t try.

I decided to call my own bluff and went back to college in my 50s, finishing the degree. What I found out was that the opportunities had never been beyond me. I was placing myself beyond them. What I learned from going back to college was that the degree didn’t open doors. Deciding I was allowed to knock on them did. And when I looked back, I saw how many doors I’d walked past because I’d decided — before anyone else got a vote — that they weren’t mine to open.

I realized there were many lost chances due to that false narrative. That’s what fear does. It gives us a picture that’s meant to contain us, not free us. Failure, on the other hand, is there to do just the opposite. It sets us free from that fear so that we can move.

AWARENESS

I spent a good portion of my career in business intelligence. We gathered data, studied it, sorted it, and handed it back so others could make better decisions. But no matter how thorough we were, it didn’t always lead to the best choices — because there’s no way to fully exhaust the data or model every scenario that could happen. In many cases, what we missed only became visible after the decision had already missed the mark.

That’s the hard truth about information. It can only tell you what’s knowable in advance. And most of the decisions that matter live in the space where the knowable runs out.

Failure is what reaches into that space. It shows you what the research couldn’t — not because the research was bad, but because some things simply cannot be known until you move. Over-research is my trap. And what I’ve had to learn, slowly, is that over-research is fear wearing the costume of diligence. It looks productive. It looks responsible. But past a certain point, more data isn’t making the decision clearer — it’s just delaying the moment when you find out what you couldn’t have known anyway.

Failure gives you that information in a way no report ever could. It also does something else, something I didn’t expect: it shows you how much of what you feared was never real to begin with. Most of the catastrophes we spend our energy trying to prevent never actually arrive. The ones that do arrive are usually smaller and more survivable than the version we built in our heads.

That’s awareness. Not just seeing what happened. Seeing what was real.

INTERRUPT

There’s a meeting you’ve been meaning to have. A hire you know isn’t working. A direction the business took eighteen months ago that hasn’t played out the way you thought it would. You keep moving. The calendar fills. The quarter closes. And the thing you know isn’t right keeps getting ignored.

Then something happens. A client leaves. A number comes in low. A conversation you weren’t expecting forces the issue into the open. And for a moment — usually an uncomfortable one — everything stops.

That moment is the gift. Most of us treat it like a setback.

Failure interrupts. That’s its job. Not to end the journey, but to break the momentum long enough for you to see what the momentum was hiding. It’s the trail marker on the tree — the painted exclamation mark that tells the hiker the path just changed, pay attention. It isn’t telling you to turn around. It’s telling you that autopilot stopped working a while ago, and you didn’t notice until right now.

The hardest part isn’t the interruption itself. It’s what we do with the pause it creates. Most of us rush to fill it. We explain the number. We reframe the client departure. We tell ourselves a story that puts the momentum back where it was, because momentum feels safer than stopping. But the pause is where the choice lives. The pause is the whole point.

When you let the interruption actually land — when you let the failure do what it came to do — you get something you can’t get any other way: a clean look at the path you were on, from a standing position. You can see the turn that’s already happened. You can choose what comes next instead of inheriting it from what came before.

That’s what failure is offering when it interrupts you. Not a verdict. A vantage point.

LEVERAGE

What does this make possible? It’s the closest I have ever come to having a true-life mantra. It’s not about being opportunistic. It’s about leverage. If you believe, as I do, that everything makes something else possible, failure has to be in that realm as well.

When I wrote my first book nearly 10 years ago, it focused on resilience.  The title is Adjusted Sails: What does this make possible? I had gone from an empty nest season to losing my job to facing a significant health scare. All within a condensed amount of time. Wave after wave of what felt like getting knocked down. I had to find a way to get back up. It started with understanding each of those situations as something other than failure.

That’s where I realized we already have what we need, when we need it — if we’re willing to see it. And to invest it as a resource into what’s next. That’s the essence of leverage.

What we might initially see as failure is ripe with possibilities for leverage. Not just within that moment, but for the future as well.

I learned that the failures I was trying to hide were the very ones that could be teaching the most. And not just because what you bury, you repeat. Because it is also often where you have the most potent opportunity to serve others.

UNCOVER

There’s an old saying — it’s been attributed to Alexander Graham Bell, to Helen Keller, and to Cervantes before either of them — that when one door closes, another opens, but we often look so long and regretfully at the closed door that we miss the one that has opened for us.

The quote has traveled through so many voices because the pattern it names is that universal. We stare. We linger. We replay the closing. And while we’re doing that, something else is becoming available that we aren’t looking at yet.

That’s what failure does at the level of a single decision. It closes a door you were counting on, and while you’re standing there trying to understand why, it’s revealing something else. Information you didn’t have. A possibility you couldn’t see from where you were standing. A version of the path that was never visible to you until this door had to close.

The same pattern shows up in the physical world all the time, at a much larger scale.

Earthquakes reveal to us what the Earth is made of. Seismic activity has taught geologists more about the planet’s interior than any other source of information. When the plates shift, they expose rock that had been buried for millions of years. What feels like a catastrophe from the surface is also — at the same time — the only way certain information about the world becomes available.

The science is one thing. Living it is another.

When my daughter and her family moved to Alaska in 2018, they experienced a 7.1 earthquake that November. What I watched them learn over the months that followed wasn’t just how to prepare for the next one. It was how to live alongside the knowledge that the ground could move again at any time. They had to make peace with a kind of uncertainty most of us never have to reckon with directly. You see and feel things differently when you’ve been inside them.

My own version was milder. I was stuck in an elevator in California during a quake once. The whole building swayed. There was nothing to do but wait. When it stopped, and the doors finally opened, I walked out into a world that had been rearranged by something I couldn’t see and couldn’t control. I couldn’t tell you what had changed. But I knew something had.

That’s what failure does, too. The shaking ends. The doors open. And the world you walk into is not the one you walked out of.

REFRAME

The idea of framing and reframing was more literal for me before I decided to pursue life coaching as a possible next career season.

I love art. I always have. Some of my treasured pieces go back decades. But of note is the fact that I rarely kept the artwork in its original frame. In fact, sometimes I bought a piece just for the frame because I had a different, but perfect painting for it.

So when the master coach who led the training cohort said that one of the key values coaching brings is the ability to help ourselves and others reframe situations, events, and ideas — it became an extension of what I’d already discovered in a physical application.

How we see things depends, in part, on how they’re presented to us. But only in part — because we can change the presentation. That’s what reframing is. And it’s led me to one of my favorite discoveries: perspective is truth in motion. Because we can change where we’re standing, we can see what’s true from a different place.

But changing perspective isn’t spontaneous combustion. It needs a catalyst. And quite often, what we first see as failure is exactly that.

The question then becomes what the failure is trying to show us. Not to review what happened, but to change what happens next.

As a possibilitarian, I try to live by another often-quoted truth: when you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change. Failure is one of the forces that lets that shift happen. It hands you the new frame whether you asked for it or not.

Failure doesn’t change the facts of what happened. A different frame doesn’t change the actual painting. But in both cases, the meaning changes. And the meaning is almost always what we were really responding to in the first place.

ELEVATE

Some of my favorite memories from childhood and my teenage years are of family trips from our home in Ohio to West Virginia. We went to visit my grandparents and to see the places where my parents had grown up.

One spot that my Dad and I frequented was Hawk’s Nest State Park. We climbed the peak of Gauley Mountain for the breathtaking view of the New River below. I didn’t just see a place. I saw history. My Cherokee ancestors had lived along that river. They had walked where we were walking. They had stood on this ridge. I didn’t have anything to prove that other than how it felt, but their story became real to me from that elevation.

Sometimes, we cannot see what it is we need to see until we can go to a higher plane.  It’s still about perspective, but it takes stepping out of the frame for this one.

When we are in the throes of what feels like failure, it can be easy to see only what is staring us in the face when what we need is to rise above that and see the whole vista. When we do, two things happen. Where we are becomes clearer. And what’s just beyond us — the thing we couldn’t see from the ground — comes into view. Failure is often what lifts us high enough to see both at once.

You don’t get better at decisions by making more of them; you get better by letting each failure raise the floor you make the next one from. Because once you’ve experienced the view from above, you’ll know how to find it again.

Which of those attributes of failure resonated most with you? While these do show a progression, it doesn’t mean that every failure does all of them every time. And, you may find, as I did, that as you work through them, you also begin to improve your overall decision framework because the lens keeps adjusting.

In his recently released book, How to Get a Return on Failure: Fail Smarter—Return Stronger, John C. Maxwell talks about this as moving from apprehension to appreciation of failure. His thesis is that to get a return on something, we have to first appreciate its value.

“Appreciating failure means properly estimating the advantages it brings as you learn from it. The ability to deal with failure opens doors to the exploration of new territory and a life of greater potential.”

That progression from apprehension to appreciation is what the seven letters are tracing. Freedom is where apprehension loosens its grip. Elevate is where appreciation finally settles in. Everything in between is the work of getting from one to the other.

Here are three ways you can begin that practice for yourself:

1. Pick one decision you’ve been circling for more than two weeks. Not the biggest one — just one. Now ask: am I stuck because the decision is actually unclear, or because I haven’t decided what failure would mean if I got it wrong? (Write down the answer before you do anything else.)
2. Look at the four behaviors I’ve mentioned — delaying, over-researching, holding on, and avoiding. Which one is running right now, in your life, today? (Name the decision underneath it. That’s where failure can work for you.)
3. For the next decision you face this week, don’t ask “what if this fails?” Ask “what could failure here make possible?” (Then decide.)

The decision you’ve been avoiding isn’t waiting for more information. It’s waiting for you to decide what failure would mean — and decide it doesn’t mean what you’ve been telling yourself it means. That’s the only decision underneath the decision. Everything else is just the path.

When we stay focused on finding the good in every situation — and on what it is making possible — success becomes inevitable.

That’s what I want for you, for all of us.

The post What do we keep missing about failure? appeared first on Kathi Laughman.

One of the most fascinating things about the power of a decision is how many channels it opens for us to take action. Quite frankly, that’s how I know I’ve truly decided about something. The way forward stops being about the decision. That isn’t a variable any longer. It’s the foundation.

In situations where the decision keeps coming up as an option, I know I still have work to do to get clear.

That’s not always as easy as we may think for a number of reasons. But one of the most challenging is when we don’t understand the decision we are making.

In several conversations this past week, working with people within the Decision Brief tool I’m developing, this became really clear.

Before any decision can be internalized in a way that is sustainable, it must first be fully understood.

What does that mean? This is where walls come into the conversation. Yes, I know, it’s an odd pairing, but bear with me because this insight is important and will prove helpful.

What do walls have to do with decisions? Let’s take a look.
 
What walls and decisions have in common
 
In the simplest terms, it’s about their function.

Decisions are what keep us functioning, focused, and safe. Isn’t that also what walls do?

Before you build a wall, you need to know its purpose. And the purpose of the wall is going to give you all of the specifications you need in order to build it in a way that ensures its success.
 
It is the same with decisions. The purpose of the decision is what ultimately defines it.

What’s protecting the foundation?
 
If you’ve ever done a home remodel or watched one of the many shows about them, you’ve experienced the dreaded discovery that the wall you want to take down due to our modern-day obsession with open concept living is, in fact, a load-bearing wall.
 
What does that mean? It means you cannot just remove it. You must take on the work of that wall another way before it can be removed. That can be with overhead framing or in other ways, but that wall distributes the weight of the entire structure across the foundation so the house can stand.
 
Load-bearing walls are more than just a wall. They do serious work, and they are the visible evidence that the structure has a foundation. What does that bring to mind? You might think of values—but it goes deeper. Your beliefs are part of the structure, too. They’re what keep the weight distributed and the whole system standing.
 
What’s protecting how you function?
 
But what about the other walls? When a structure is framed out, those other walls are doing just that. They are creating a frame. They are about what will happen within the structure. These are not as permanent, but they are as specific. You wouldn’t frame a kitchen in the same way you would frame a bathroom, a bedroom, or a carport. Once again, the wall’s purpose gives you the specification for it.
 
It’s the same with many of our decisions. They aren’t fully permanent, but they are meant to be defining. We have to understand what the decision is meant to allow us to do before we can fully understand it.
 
This is where binary thinking often becomes our nemesis. We think we are deciding between two options, but the real decision is about what the options are meant to make possible.
 
This applies to both our businesses and our lives.
 
What’s protecting how you stay the course?
 
The last type of wall is my current focus: temporary walls, or scaffolding. Sometimes, the decision we need to make is temporary from the onset. It is needed because of specific circumstances or conditions. When we approach those decisions with that level of understanding, it can be much easier to figure out which temporary measure will get the job done for us and allow us to reverse out of it when the time comes with ease.
 
What I find interesting with this type of wall is that we often carry guilt about them, as if temporary means uncommitted or weak. We need to leverage a bit of a pun here and reframe temporary decisions as purposeful and self-eliminating by design.
 
If you’re still reading and with me on this, thank you. I know this is not as straightforward as just giving you a five-step plan or a set of prompts to help you make a decision. But this is at the heart of the work I’m doing, and it is growing clearer to me every day that, before we can start, we need to get better at understanding just what it is we are deciding.
 
The question we’re really asking each time we are faced with a choice is this:
 
Do you know which kind of decision you’re making?
 
Because most people don’t. They treat load-bearing decisions like scaffolding and wonder why things collapse. Or they treat scaffolding like load-bearing walls and can’t let go when the job is done.

Reflection

One of my favorite insights from Andy Andrews is right on point this week.
 
“One way to define wisdom is the ability to see, into the future, the consequences of your choices in the present. That ability can give you a completely different perspective on what the future might look like.”
 
Decision models are important. Just as architectural models show us how things will function, they allow us to make critical changes before they become problematic. They give us that glimpse into the future consequences of our choices.
 
Here’s what I’d like to invite you to consider:
 
Choose one area of your life or work to examine what your walls (decisions) look like now.
 
That can be your work, your finances, your health, your relationships, your creative endeavors, your spiritual life – choose one aspect of the building that is your life.
 
Now look at what foundational decisions you have in place. Where is your load-bearing wall? How are you ensuring that the weight of what you carry is always coming back to the foundation?
 
Staying with that same segment of “YOU” – let’s look at your framing of it. How are you supporting it? This can be your processes, your habits, your daily practices – anything that is about your “how” for that particular “what.”
 
Finally, check whether you have any temporary walls or scaffolding in place for it. If yes, is it doing the job? Is it effective? Do you have any that it may be time to let go of? If you don’t have any, is there a place here where that would be helpful? This could be finding a mentor, a spiritual advisor, a health professional – any number of things can apply here.
 
Once you’ve examined that part of your life or work, step back and determine how any of the walls you have found might also be supporting other parts of you, and move there next.
 
Become the inspector of your own life by looking at the basic decisions you have already made before determining what the next ones need to be.  
 
Because until you do, you will keep building the wrong kind of walls for the life you are trying to live.

The post What walls can teach us about decisions appeared first on Kathi Laughman.

I’ve noticed something about my inbox lately. It’s been filled with renewal notices—publications, insurance, and everything in between.
 
The message is clear: Do you want to continue?
 
It has reminded me that March often brings its own kind of renewal notices—signals that it may be time to question the decisions and choices we made coming into the new year.
 
In some cases, that’s because we’ve gone through changes that have shifted things, including our focus.

In others, it might be that we’re just not seeing the progress we had hoped for, and discouragement is beginning to wave its flag of surrender.
 
Still other factors might be at play. The list has no definitive end for why we don’t, won’t, or even can’t finish everything we start.
 
I’ll admit that this was a struggle for me for many years. It may have come from childhood, where we had to finish everything on our plates. Ugh. But more likely, it came from the bombardment of messages we have all been subjected to: ‘winners never quit.’

But the reality is that winners quit more often than they finish. They’ve just gotten very good at deciding when and what to quit.
 
That’s been on my mind this past week as I’ve been looking at my own spectrum of ambition for this year. My focus word is RESOLVE. I knew that was the secret to my success in everything on my roster. I had to practice resolve. I had to do what I had resolved to do.
 
But what is interesting about that is that our resolve can remain to do something while still allowing us to find another path to get there.
 
That’s without question the most looming message for me this year. The path to success isn’t limited. The divergent thinking I’ve been talking about is showing me ways to achieve things that I had never considered.
 
The resolve is still there. But it’s now my resolve to get something done. Not for the way to make that happen.
 
We must each continuously adjust our decisions based on our own feedback, what we learn from others, accurate information, and changes around us. That is how we can stay responsive, relevant, and effective as we move toward the destination we’ve chosen.

This isn’t a new topic for me. So instead of writing something completely new this week, I went back to three pieces that each address a different perspective and approach for revisiting our decisions.
 
For those times when you just want to quit!
 
This article is from the blog, and it meets you in the moment before the moment. The one where you’re not sure if you’re being resilient or just stubborn.
 
The first part talks about the fact that there are two very different lenses we can use when we look at the question of whether or not to stay the course.

The second part includes five things to consider when you have decided you want to stay the course and need help doing that. I’m working on some follow-up thoughts for this now that talk about how to convert motivation to momentum.
 
If this is where you find yourself, the five points here are a good starting point.
 
Does This Still Matter?
 
Some of you have already joined me on Substack and are following my publication there, which is unfolding the story of my upcoming parable, The Possibility Factor.
 
Sometimes the question isn’t just whether to continue. It’s whether the destination still means what it once did. This one sits with that question.
 
This article looks at what happens when meaning changes and what we once thought was our center shifts.
 
Here’s a line from it that might meet you where you are:
 
“There are times when what we do doesn’t change, but our reason for doing it does. Sometimes that comes from a deepening awareness; other times it’s a natural realignment with a new season of life or work.”
 
It also looks at the value and need for refinement, at times, and draws on lessons I’ve learned as a potter.
 
Growth Doesn’t Always Announce Itself
 
This is the one I saved for last. It’s about the work that happens before the proof shows up.
 
It is from the Yes I Can Living community’s blog, where I am a contributor.
 
This article is my most recent post there, and it’s very specific to my opening for this week’s message to you. It’s about March, and it closes with this thought:
 
Growth doesn’t always announce itself.
 
Sometimes it unfolds in hidden layers, building roots before blossoms, strength before beauty. Sometimes it asks for patience before proof.
 
March holds the tension of that truth. It reminds us that life can be very active even when it appears still.
 
The bloom will come in its season.
 
Until then, there is important work happening underground.

Reflection

One of my favorite quotes, which remains at the front of nearly every journal I have kept for a number of years, comes from Andrew McCarthy, written during a time of his own personal reawakening.
 
“There’s a certain moment in every memorable journey, often recognized only in hindsight, when the trip you are on presents itself, and the one you thought you were taking or had planned is jettisoned. It’s then that you begin really traveling, not merely touring.”
 
Across the three articles I’ve shared with you, there’s a shared message, even as they take it on through different lenses.
 
The questions for each of us are simple.
 
Where are you in your quest?
What needs to be examined?
What is it that it may be time to release?
What needs more time to grow?
 
If you’re unsure, remember this: You’re not in this alone.
 
Legacy is communal. Honest audits benefit from witnesses. Named desires get stronger when spoken to someone who can hold them with you.

I am here to help.

The post Keep going, quit, or start something new? appeared first on Kathi Laughman.

That dreaded question.  What do you want for dinner?
 
The question has many variations. But they all require the same thing. A response. A decision has to be made.

Sometimes we care about the answer. Sometimes we don’t. More often, we care, but we don’t actually know what we want until someone else starts making some choices. Then at least we know what we don’t want. 
 
It sounds so easy. And yet it’s not, just like many of the other decisions we face.

Let’s explore what’s at the heart of the dilemma.
 
Imagine walking into a restaurant you’ve heard good things about. You’ve been looking forward to trying it for a while now.
 
You’re seated, and the wait staff approaches you. They are carrying what appears to be a menu. They hand it to you with a smile.
 
But you’re not sure what to say to them. The menu is blank.

Your first thought will be that they’ve made a mistake. Surely they have given you the wrong menu.

But when you ask the question, you’re answered with another smile and told that there isn’t a menu.

And then they ask a question of you:  

What can the chef make for you today?
 
Now, before you fully settle into that scene, imagine with me a different restaurant.

This one will bring a very different experience. In fact, quite the opposite.

As you’re shown to your seat, just as before, the wait staff approaches with the menu. But this menu is very extensive. You’re going to need those pesky reading glasses!
 
But then, you’re surprised when what you hear next is this as you open the menu.
 
You should know that no substitutions or changes are allowed. I’ll be back shortly to take your order.
 
Two different starting points. Neither leads to the meal you were hoping for.
 
We face these extremes more often than we realize, and the result is usually the same for both.
 
The paralysis of infinite possibility and the resentment of no choice at all usually mean no decision gets made.
 
The restaurant (and life) we actually want is neither of those two.

What we want is a thoughtful menu. Curated. Intentional. Enough choice to feel like ourselves, enough structure to make the choosing possible.
 
That kind of menu is the curated life made tangible.
 
If you’re like me, and judging from your responses last week, you are, when the waiter asked “What can the chef prepare for you?” — that moment of unexpected openness — you recognize that’s the moment you’re in right now.

With so many options, how can you choose?

The question is genuinely open, and it seems that we’re not quite prepared for it.

The confusion and frustration we feel in this moment are genuine. It’s the gap between having been handed restrictive menus our whole lives and suddenly being invited to actually choose.
 
Some time ago, a book caught my attention because of its title: I Could Do Anything If I Only Knew What It Was: How to Discover What You Really Want and How to Get It.
 
It was written by the late Barbara Sher. I went on to read several of her books, and they all pointed me in a direction very different from what I had been told most of my life.
 
The advice had always been to choose your work based on what you were good at and that the market valued. The pressing question at that time in my life was not about what I wanted. It was about what the market wanted. Not a bad question, just not the right first question.
 
Her insights helped me to shift my approach. I began thinking not just about what I knew how to do, but also about what I was willing and wanted to learn. 
 
Unfortunately, though, over time, because of the pressures of life, I drifted away from that strategy. Now I’ve found myself back here again.

Once again, staking my claim in what I want.
 
I want to write about ideas and subjects that matter and can make a difference.
 
It took me longer to say that out loud than I care to admit.

But now I have said it.

Saying it didn’t make the whole path clear. But it made finding the path possible. And the moment I said it, the real work began — which is also where you may find yourself right now.

The Logical Next Step
 
What I have found is that the moment after we make that initial choice and declaration can be rather disorienting.
 
The logical next step may not be the best one. We’re carrying layers of thoughts, feelings, and influences that may still be blocking the way.
 
The real first step is almost always something internal. 
 
In addition to all of that, the times we’re living in have a way of making even a clear direction feel suddenly uncertain.
 
You name what you want, and then the ground shifts. That’s also not a personal failure — that’s the actual terrain.
 
What’s important is to be cautious while also remaining curious.

It seems paradoxical at times, but it is true that we won’t know with certainty until we take the first step, and then each step after that.
 
Sometimes We Need to Make Space
 
Which leads us to the next part of getting started.

Sometimes what you stop doing matters as much (if not more) than what you start.
 
While I do advocate for plenty of white space in everything we do, I’m not a big fan of blank slates. There is richness in our experience and history that we should protect.

But not everything needs to stay. At least not on display.
 
What we usually find is that once our next direction is clear, something almost always has to be released.
 
That’s the lesson we’ve learned from gardening. The best gardeners know what to prune.

If this is where you find yourself in the decision path, Dr. Henry Cloud’s work in Necessary Endings can be invaluable.
 
It’s about first knowing and then making space.
 
Where the First Step Lives
 
If you’ve been with me for a while, you know that I’m an advocate of divergent thinking, questioning our choices before we rush into a decision. That’s true here as well. And that’s why this next part is important.
 
We must interrogate the question before we answer it.
 
Because it’s also possible that if we don’t know what we want, we’ll just keep reaching for more. The list of what we want can become overwhelming. Especially when we are examining every part of who we are and how we want to show up in the world.

The answer to that is discovering what’s actually underneath those wants.
 
Sometimes, the better counter-question to “what do you want to do?” is “how do you want to feel?”
 
Because almost always, there’s a common root.
 
Finding that root is where the first step lives.
 
The key to finding it is knowing that it’s not even on the list. It’s below it.
 
Here’s an exercise you can do to discover it.
 
Choose your top five things that you want to consider.

Write each one on the front side of a 3 x 5 card.
 
Now imagine you’ve accomplished each one. Stand in that moment.
 
How do you feel?
 
Write that on the back of the card.
 
Quite often, those answers are all going to be similar, if not the same.
 
That’s where your first step is found. Knowing how you want to feel is your first step.
 
In the meantime, remember that it’s not just that the first step is hard.
 
It’s that we arrive at the question of what we want, still carrying contradictory burdens simultaneously.
 
We were handed a script we didn’t write.
We were told the sky was the limit.
And then we were handed an infinite menu with no guidance on how to order.
 
The resulting confusion is not a personal failure or a lack of imagination or courage. That’s a genuinely difficult condition to navigate.

If you are still struggling, then start here: 

• When you get up each morning, how do you want to feel? 
• When you end each day, how do you want to feel? 
• What are you doing now that brings you that feeling? 

Remember that this is about what you truly want.

Not what you think you should want.
Not what others expect.

Just what is true.

The post What would you like for dinner… really? appeared first on Kathi Laughman.

When I first retired from the supply chain industry, I didn’t realize how much the lessons I learned there would continue to travel with me.

When we are fully immersed in something and live it out over time, we can lose track of how much it shapes us beyond the work itself.
It’s shaping how we think and how we see our lives.
 
I’ve long believed our lives aren’t nearly as siloed as we imagine. That realization was another gift from my working life, born of what I learned about the value and power of integrating processes and systems effectively.

What we see in one segment or season of our lives almost always influences other areas.
 
It’s the truth that lives behind the common statement that how we do anything is how we do everything. I’ve always rejected that sentiment because I know that it’s over-simplified. But this is the statement I do believe: How we do anything affects how we do everything.
 
It began as an appreciation for integration. Over time, it became something deeper: the ability to recognize patterns.

Think about that for a moment. If we can step back and see a pattern, we can see beyond just what is in front of us in any given moment. We can begin to fully appreciate the meaning behind cause and effect.
 
I took some time this past week to look at where I’m at so far in 2026 with my focus on resolve, and the achievements I’m putting that to work in. As usual, some moments inspired me to try and high-five myself – not an easy task – while others had me shaking my head.
 
As I looked at what was underneath all of that, some definite patterns emerged, and those patterns are lessons that may be as valuable to you as they have been for me. 

• Clarity grows through engagement.

We tend to think clarity is something we arrive at — as if we’ll wake up one morning and feel certain enough to move.

But what I’ve seen (and experienced) is this: Clarity sharpens while we’re in motion.

I explored this lesson more deeply in the piece on Clarity as a Lens — the idea that clarity isn’t a destination; it’s something we use. The act of choosing, refining, and re-evaluating is what sharpens it.

Clarity isn’t waiting for you. It’s waiting to be used.

• The visible decision is rarely the real decision.

This one has threaded its way through the Cooper North essays and several conversations I’ve had behind the scenes as I’m writing that book.

What looks like a tactical choice — sell or stay, launch or wait, hire or hold — is often a structural decision underneath: Who am I becoming? What am I stewarding? What am I unwilling to trade?

The surface option distracts us from the deeper alignment question. Once you see that, you can’t unsee it.

• Obstacles refine direction.

Earlier this year, I wrote about fear — not as something to eliminate, but something to interrogate.

Resistance is not always a red light. Sometimes it’s a refining fire.

When we expect obstacles rather than interpret them as proof we chose wrong, we respond differently. We adjust. We strengthen. We learn what we’re actually committed to.

The obstacle often reveals whether the direction is reactive… or rooted.

• The people around you shape what feels possible.

This surfaced in the piece on directional friendship — the reminder that ideas travel through relationships.

A book recommendation.
An introduction.
A question someone asks at the right moment.

We spend a lot of time thinking about tools and tactics. But more often than not, momentum enters through people.

Who you’re listening to quietly shapes what feels normal, risky, or possible.

• Courage may be quiet — but it’s not passive.

This one weaves through everything.

Courage isn’t loud. It rarely feels dramatic. It’s the steady willingness to choose without guarantees.

To move before the full picture is visible.
To decide before certainty arrives.

And to own the decision once it’s made.

This has been a core lesson for me this year because I’m spending time in new places — not just physically, but in every sense of the word. And that takes courage.

Reflections

This week, I’m inviting you to explore one place.
 
We’re far enough into 2026 to see patterns. Not just in what I’ve written and shared, but in what you’ve been living.

If you flipped back through your journal — or even just your calendar — what would your own 2026 highlight reel so far this year reveal?
 
What ideas, tensions, or lessons keep resurfacing?
And what might they be preparing you for next?

The post Patterns Worth Paying Attention To appeared first on Kathi Laughman.

Two women were born in 1933. One in France. One in America.

The woman born in France was Jewish. Her name was Francine.

The American girl was born in a small town in West Virginia. She was a second-generation Cherokee. Her name was Peggy.

They came from different parts of the world and would face very different challenges. What they shared was coming into the world in the year Hitler came into power. That became part of both of their stories.

By the time Francine was eight years old, her father had been taken into custody as a prisoner of war. She had to wear the yellow star on her chest, marking her as Jewish. She and her mother were eventually taken to the Bergen-Belsen camp in Germany. Francine’s mother took two small pieces of chocolate with her, knowing there would be hard days ahead. She told her daughter she would save them for when they grew weak and needed strength. The chocolate would help get them through.

When another woman gave birth in the camp, Francine’s mother asked her if she thought they should give their chocolate to the struggling woman to help her have the strength to survive the birth. Francine didn’t hesitate and readily agreed. Despite dire conditions, both mother and child survived.

Six months later, British troops rescued them, and the camp was liberated. Francine and her mother were able to return to France, as did the other mother and child.

Life moved on from those dark days for all of them. Francine went on to write books and poetry and give lectures about her time in the camps. And give birth to her own daughter.

Many years later, when she was in her 80s, her daughter asked if she thought it would have helped her and the others freed from the camps if they had been given access to psychiatrists. She said she couldn’t say, mental health wasn’t something they even spoke of then. It was about survival. But that question inspired her to put together a symposium on the subject.

When one of the psychiatrists who had come to speak took her place at the podium, she began by saying she had a special gift for Francine and took out a piece of chocolate. She smiled warmly at Francine and said, “I’m the baby.”

Can you imagine the depth of feeling as the two women meet again after all those years? 

We don’t often get to see what comes from those moments of sacrifice. I found it very moving that they had a second divine appointment to meet. Somehow, you begin to understand from that moment that Francine and her mother gave so much more than a piece of chocolate.

The power of story always remains.

Listen to her tell her story in her own voice and words

Going back to our young girl growing up in West Virginia, her life took on a very different shape because of the war as well. Her mother worked as a tailor, making uniforms for soldiers fighting in Europe, to save those like Francine and her mother. Other friends and family lost loved ones who wore those uniforms. Their sacrifices were different. None compared to what Francine and her family experienced. But that time shaped everyone who lived through it.

That girl grew up, married a Marine, and moved to Ohio, where, in 1955, she gave birth to her first child, a daughter. Me.

I knew that my grandmother’s life had been changed by that war, but I hadn’t thought about the fact that my mother’s life began during that time. When I first heard Francine speak, I realized that they were contemporaries. The children also have their own stories to tell.

Listening to Francine talk about her conversation with her daughter, I thought of my own conversations with my mother.

I remember a telephone conversation with my Mom one summer, when I lived with my great-aunt and uncle in downtown Cleveland. My great aunt was recovering from heart surgery, and they needed help. On our call, I lamented missing home and my freedom. My mother reminded me that I wasn’t there for me.

She said I was born to fulfill a purpose, and that opportunities to make a difference would come throughout my life. They would never be a burden in the end, but a gift. It was the genesis of my understanding of having a purpose in the world and in my life. And the joy that would bring. She prophesied that into and over my life many times. She also modeled that in her own life. I have never forgotten it.

I find myself yearning again for conversations about her life with questions I never thought to ask. But still, I am comforted by the conversations we did have and my memories of her.

Thinking about both of these women, born in 1933, I’m reminded that no matter what our circumstances may be at any given time in our lives, we all have something to give. We are all called to give of ourselves, even to sacrifice at times. And, it is always a gift for us to have that opportunity.

It’s an important reminder and question to ask of ourselves with every encounter. How can I best serve in this moment?

The post The stories of two women born in 1933 appeared first on Kathi Laughman.

We make assumptions about how and to whom we matter in the world. Those will stem from our own beliefs and perspectives about the contributions we make.

And yet, sometimes what is most impactful about our lives isn’t readily visible to us. We will not always know where we are making the most profound difference.

You see, each of us is a miracle. Each of us comes into this life with our own soul print, and we make a difference every day. Even when we aren’t really conscious of it.

Let me tell you a story that brings this vividly to life. In the 1950’s, two men worked in a factory in northern Ohio. One of them worked the afternoon shift and the other the night shift. They did not know each other. Yet their lives would intersect and create profound change.

The young man working second shift had just finished his tour of duty as a Marine during the Korean War. He and his bride had moved from West Virginia to Ohio in search of better opportunities. He often worked the night shift in addition to his regular hours for extra income. One night, he was doing just that when he was assigned to a machine next to the other man in our story. Bear in mind that this was not mentally taxing work. In fact, boredom was something they continuously contended with, each in their own way.

That night, over the humming of the machines, our young Marine heard a very distinctive voice talking about all of his possibilities and how to reach all of those goals he had set for himself simply by changing his thoughts. It was as if this man were speaking directly to him. And so he went in search of the source and found the other man listening to a portable radio. The man speaking on the radio was Earl Nightingale. It was a life-changing moment.

Immediately, our young Marine was determined! He decided to take on an extra job rather than just extra shifts to earn enough money to buy his own portable radio. He had discovered his mentor even before he knew what a mentor was, and did not want to miss a single opportunity to hear more! That encounter changed his life. That extra job? It was working as an attendant and mechanic at a local gas station. What happened? Ultimately, he didn’t just show up because he worked there as a mechanic. In time, he showed up because he owned the business.

I doubt that the other man in the story, if asked, would tell us that the most important thing he did that day was take his radio to work. He wouldn’t say that he changed lives just by listening to his radio. But for that young Marine, undoubtedly that was the case. It set his life on a different course. And as a result, it did the same for mine. That young Marine was my Dad.

Throughout my life, what I learned most from him, beyond the values of faith and family, was the miracle of personal leadership and development. He defied all of the odds. He surpassed every expectation. A deeply spiritual man, he did it all with quiet grace and humility, a legacy that endures.

There was never a time that he was not reading or later listening to recordings and tapes. In fact, I still have his books and some of those early recordings! From that late-night shift in the factory until his last breath on earth, my Dad lived a life that celebrated learning and growth every day.

My Dad. He never lost sight of who he was. He never lost his vision of who he could become. And he never stopped growing into that man. He lived that legacy every day of his life. As a result, other lives were changed. And his legacy lives on in those lives. Including mine.

Thank you, Dad, for always showing us not only who you were but who we could be. Thank you for being a living example of how to become that person more every day. And thank you to the gentleman who was part of God’s plan for our lives and brought his radio to work so all of this would begin!

We recently crossed off the day on the calendar that was the 46th anniversary of my Dad’s death. In the earlier years, that day always brought some sadness, but over the course of my life, that has changed because I have recognized how everything about him has shaped me, even his death.

And so I share this story with you in memory and honor of him, and as a reminder to us all that while our time here may be brief, it is never without value.

I strive to always remember, as Earl Nightingale taught my Dad and he ultimately taught me:

“Learn to enjoy every minute of your life. Be happy now. Don’t wait for something outside of yourself to make you happy in the future. Think how really precious is the time you have to spend, whether it’s at work or with your family. Every minute should be enjoyed and savored.”

Live today like you want tomorrow to be.

Live well.

The post Take your radio to work day! appeared first on Kathi Laughman.

Welcome to the fifth and final installment of our Personal FAQs series, where we explore questions that can guide us as we continuously recenter, realign, and move forward with clarity throughout our lives.

To make it easier to ask questions that are relevant to where we are and what we need at any juncture, we have been reviewing five FAQs domains.

We move now to our final domain, Growth & Legacy.

The Five Personal FAQ Domains:

1. Identity & Purpose
2. Work & Contribution
3. Decision-Making & Direction
4. Integration & Rhythm
5. Growth & Legacy

Growth & Legacy

Some time ago, I wrote an article that has stayed with me. In fact, it’s one of my favorite pieces of my own writing if I’m allowed to admit that! The title of that message was this: Do Recipes Make You a Better Cook? 
 
As I was thinking about writing this final chapter of our FAQ series, I realized that while we’re discussing a specific domain, we’re also covering everything we’ve been reviewing together, because these FAQs culminate in two very specific outcomes. Growth and Legacy. They are stretching us, and in doing that, they are helping us leave our mark.
 
In that article, I shared the story of Chef Daniel Patterson. But the first question wasn’t about recipes. It was about GPS guidance systems. You see, Chef Patterson had gotten a new car, and it came with the then-default feature of GPS and navigation assistance. Initially, he resisted using it.
 
Then the day came when he decided to go ahead and take advantage of the technology. Before long, he recognized, like many of us, he had become dependent on it. Even when he went to places he frequented, he found himself relying on it. He was blindly following directions with no notice of his surroundings or where he was going.
 
When he realized what was happening, it startled him, and he began asking himself where else in life he (we) might be doing the same thing. Since he’s a chef, he naturally looked first at his world. Hence, the next question is whether recipes make us better cooks.
 
In fact, he himself wrote an entire article about it. It’s an excellent piece, and I encourage you to read it.

These words from that article were what inspired my own and brought it back to mind for this week’s message and wrapping up our series:
 
“Part of the problem with recipes today is that they seem to be predicated on the idea that a good recipe should eliminate the possibility of mistakes. But here’s a secret: Good cooks make mistakes all the time. They take wrong turns and end up in strange places. Their attention sharpens as they try to figure out where they are and how they got there. Eventually, they either reach their original destination or discover that wherever they stumbled into is really the best place to be. Sometimes it’s important to get lost.” 

Here’s what I wrote in my essay:
 
We are faced every day with “recipes.” Use these methods, these tools. Take each step in this order. Make sure you don’t substitute anything. In other words, if you want it to work, don’t change anything. In life and our work, I’m sure you recognize and hear the message as much as I do.

But what if that’s not right? What if the best result comes from using the recipe as a starting point rather than a rulebook? What if we start experimenting and venturing forward as creators and find our own results? That has far more appeal for me.
 
I want to encourage you to see the concept of FAQs or any guidance questions in this way. They are not meant to be prescriptive. They are meant, in fact, to help you get a little lost so that you can, in turn, find your way. They are simply a starting point. Experiment with them and venture out as the creator of your own, over and over again.
 
Remember that growth and legacy are the culmination of everything we’ve been exploring together. Identity, work, decisions, and rhythm set the stage, but growth is what keeps it alive, and legacy is what ensures it outlives us.

Why It Matters

Without growth and legacy, our questions risk being self-contained. Useful perhaps, but limited. When we add this domain, we stretch our perspective forward and outward. We begin to see that what we learn, contribute, and embody is not only for ourselves, but also for those who come after us.
 
This domain asks us to think about continuity.
 
What carries forward because we were here?

What are we making possible?

What to Look For

You’ll know it’s time to pay attention to this domain when: 

• Old answers start to feel too small for who you’re becoming.
• Others have started asking you for guidance, wisdom, or stories from your own journey.
• You’re unsure whether you are investing your time and energy in things that will last beyond your life or even this season.
• You begin to see traces of your influence showing up in the work, words, or choices of others.
• You want to shift your focus from what you’re achieving to the idea of impact.

Growth and Legacy FAQs

Remember that these FAQs aren’t about grand revelations. They are about grounding. They are prompts designed to invite honesty and curiosity about our current and future state. Only choose those that resonate with you for the season you are in.

Here are a few starting points for the domain of Growth & Legacy: 

• What can I be learning now that future-me will thank me for?
• How can I grow in ways that expand what’s possible for others?
• What do I want to grow with me, and what do I want to grow beyond me?
• How can I be intentional about the influence my choices create?
• How can I define and live my legacy right now through achievement, relationships, values, or something else?
• What stories can I be shaping today that reflect the life I want to live?

How do you know you’re asking the right questions? 

• When your questions stir both hope and responsibility.
• When they anchor you in today while opening a window to tomorrow.
• When they shift your thinking from “what’s in it for me?” to “what’s possible because of me?”

Which brings us back to where we started. Do recipes make you a better cook? Not on their own. But they give you a starting point, a structure, a spark. The same is true here.

And that’s the point. It was never just about the questions. It’s about what they guide you to see, to choose, and to create.
 
Here’s one final thought from Chef Patterson to help:
 
“Cookbooks should teach us how to cook, not just follow instructions. By paying attention, a cook should be able to internalize the process, rendering the written recipes obsolete. The point of a recipe should be to help us find our own way.” 

Read the recipe (FAQ). Learn from it. Then close the book. Create your masterpiece in cooking and in life.
 
Why? Because your FAQs are not meant to stay on the page. They’re meant to guide your next steps.

This Week’s Additional Resources:

• The Second Mountain by David Brooks
• David Whyte’s poem “What to Remember When Waking”
• Holy Moments by Matthew Kelly
• The Rhythm of Life by Matthew Kelly
• Adjusted Sails: What Does This Make Possible by Kathi Laughman (Included with Kindle Unlimited)

The post FAQ Series: Growth & Legacy – What will you make possible? appeared first on Kathi Laughman.

Welcome to the fourth installment of our Personal FAQs series, where we are exploring questions that can serve us as we continuously recenter, realign, and move forward with clarity throughout our lives.

To make it easier to have questions that can help based on where we are and what we need at any juncture, we are looking at five different FAQs domains.

We have covered the first three domains and are moving on to Integration and Rhythm.

The Five Personal FAQ Domains:

1. Identity & Purpose
2. Work & Contribution
3. Decision-Making & Direction
4. Integration & Rhythm
5. Growth & Legacy

Integration & Rhythm

When you live your life
in harmony with your purpose,
there is no conflict or dissonance,
only clarity and direction.
~Kathi Laughman

This week’s topic is one of my favorites because I have spent much of my professional life focused on how to use effective integration to create bridges. Whether it has been between various groups, companies, trading partners, software solutions, or even entire industries, effective integration has been, for me, the ultimate playground for innovation.

Whether we are talking about our life, our work, or any of our roles, it isn’t about balancing competing silos. Like a beautiful tapestry, integration is about weaving things together. Then the rhythm is the tempo. It’s how your commitments, values, and energy flow together without forcing harmony where it doesn’t exist.

But even more than those silos, it’s key to know that integration isn’t about smashing all the pieces of a disparate group into one tidy puzzle. It’s more like jazz. Each instrument (your roles, goals, commitments, values) has its own sound, but the music only works when they listen to one another.

Rhythm provides the tempo, the pacing, the groove that keeps the music going.

Integration is about coherence; rhythm is about sustainability.

The most important thing I look for in a musician
is whether he knows how to listen.
~ Duke Ellington

Why It Matters

When we live without integration, life sounds more like competing noise than music. When we live without rhythm, even good things wear us down because we’re out of tempo. Together, integration and rhythm help us create a life that works in harmony, not because everything is easy, but because everything fits.

Without rhythm, even integrated priorities collapse under exhaustion. Integration ensures alignment, while rhythm ensures longevity.

What to Look For

• Are your priorities creating harmony or dissonance?
• Do your commitments flow together, or do they compete?
• Is your pace sustainable, or are you sprinting through a marathon?
• Do you have natural “rests” built in, like pauses in a song, that make the music stronger?
• Is your calendar consistent with your deeper story?

It’s taken me all my life to learn what not to play.
~Dizzy Gillespie

Integration and Rhythm FAQs:

Remember that these FAQs aren’t about grand revelations. They are about grounding. They are prompts designed to invite honesty and curiosity about our current and future state. Only choose those that resonate with you for the season you are in.

• What daily or weekly rhythms help me feel most alive and support my best work?
• What would integration look like if I treated my life less like a checklist and more like a composition? (My personal favorite!)
• What is the integration I’ve been resisting?
• Where do I need to slow down or speed up to restore balance?
• Where in my life do I feel most “out of tune,” and what would bring it back into harmony?
• How can I create natural pauses or “rests” in my schedule that strengthen the overall flow?

How do you know you’re asking the right questions?  

• The noise starts to quiet.
• You begin to notice less friction and more flow.
• You no longer feel like you’re juggling parts.
• Instead, you feel like you’re directing an ensemble.
• There’s a sense of coherence between what you want and what you’re doing.
• Your calendar feels like an ally instead of an enemy.

Integration and rhythm aren’t about perfect balance. They are essentially about freedom. Like jazz, the beauty isn’t in playing every note, but in choosing the right ones, and leaving space where silence belongs.

When your life begins to sound more like music than noise, you know you’ve found your rhythm. And from that rhythm, possibility opens. Not because you control every beat, but because you trust yourself enough to improvise.

And, by the way, here’s the best part: when you find your rhythm, you make space for others to join in. The music grows, the themes expand, and what you’ve created becomes more than a moment. It becomes a legacy. That’s where we’re headed next: Growth & Legacy.

This Week’s Additional Resources:

Note: This domain’s resources are a reading list I’ve put together for you because so many of you have said this is an area where you face the greatest resistance.

The idea, even fear, of doing less to accomplish more is so foreign to us that it’s no wonder we push back on that harder than anything. Each of these books speaks to something in that ongoing riff we have going with ourselves.

Check them out and then choose the one that makes the back of your neck tingle a bit. It’s likely the one you most need to read next. 

• The Art of Possibility — Rosamund Stone Zander & Benjamin Zander

Blends the perspectives of a symphony conductor and a psychotherapist to show how possibility thinking reshapes how we work, create, and live. A beautiful reminder that life, like music, expands when we choose to see what’s possible.

• Rest: Why You Get More Done When You Work Less — Alex Soojung-Kim Pang

Challenges the myth that harder work equals better results. Pang draws on science and stories from great thinkers (from Darwin to Stephen King) to show why deliberate rest fuels creativity and productivity.

• The Infinite Game – Simon Sinek

Finite games, like football or chess, have known players, fixed rules, and a clear endpoint. The winners and losers are easily identified. Infinite games, games with no finish line, like business or politics, or life itself, have players who come and go. (Think of a symphony vs. a jazz trio).  Simon Sinek offers a framework for leading (and living) with a commitment to a vision of a future world so appealing that we will build it week after week, month after month, year after year, even though we do not know the exact form this world will take. 

• Slow Productivity – Cal Newport

Drawing from deep research on the habits and mindsets of a varied cast of storied thinkers from Galileo and Isaac Newton to Jane Austen and Georgia O’Keeffe, Newport lays out the key principles of “slow productivity,” a more sustainable alternative to the aimless overwhelm that defines our current moment.

• Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience – Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

During flow, people typically experience deep enjoyment, creativity, and total involvement with life. Csikszentmihalyi demonstrates the ways this positive state can be controlled, not just left to chance, so that we can discover true happiness, unlock our potential, and greatly improve the quality of our lives.

• Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives – Richard A. Swenson

Margin is the space that once existed between ourselves and our limits. Today, most of our lives are marginless as we battle overwhelm, burnout, and hurry. But there is a path to the life of balance and peace we crave. The benefits can be good health, financial stability, fulfilling relationships, and availability for your divine purpose.

• Elastic Habits: How to Create Smarter Habits That Adapt to Your Day – Stephen Guise

No two days are the same. By making your habits elastic, you can adapt to conquer every unique day of your life. The ultimate improv approach! Elastic habits give you an answer for every situation. Any dread or sense of monotony you’ve felt about forming habits will disappear, because this system is dynamic and exciting.

The post FAQ Series: Integration & Rhythm-Bringing Possibilities to Life appeared first on Kathi Laughman.

Welcome to the third installment of our Personal FAQs series, where we explore questions that can serve as we continuously recenter, realign, and move forward with clarity throughout our lives. 

To make it easier to have questions that can help us based on our current situation and needs at any juncture, we are examining five different FAQ domains.

We’ve now covered the first two, and we’re moving on to Decision-Making & Direction this week.

The Five Personal FAQ Domains:

1. Identity & Purpose
2. Work & Contribution
3. Decision-Making & Direction
4. Integration & Rhythm
5. Growth & Legacy

Decision Making & Direction

It is in your moments of decision that your destiny is shaped. ~Tony Robbins

When I went back to college in my 50s, it wasn’t because I suddenly had spare time. I was a single mom, working full-time, and adding school full-time to the mix was going to be a challenge without question.

What pushed me wasn’t ambition for its own sake, but frustration and the realization that I was passing up many opportunities simply because I didn’t have a degree. I decided to stop complaining about it and act.

My field of study this time around was Organizational Psychology, and one of my first classes was Effective Decision-Making. I thought it would be an easy filler. After all, I had many years of decisions already under my belt by this time. But it turned out to be one of the most transformative courses I’ve ever taken.

It changed how I thought about decisions, not just as choices but as turning points that could open new paths. I recognized their critical link to creating and honoring direction. That class and season of life became one of my favorites because I could feel how each decision was shaping the future in real time.

Why it Matters

Every decision shapes our story, whether by action or by delay. But not all decisions are equal, and without a framework, we risk drifting or reacting instead of choosing with intention.

But the framework doesn’t just mean drawing a line on a piece of paper and listing pros and cons. Not a bad exercise at times, but I’m talking about something more.

The framework that has served me has four parts or pillars.

• Clarity of Direction: Without a sense of where you’re headed, every option can feel equally urgent or equally confusing. Clarity doesn’t mean you know every detail of the future; it means you’ve chosen a general heading. When you name your desired direction, it becomes much easier to recognize whether a decision moves you closer or pulls you off course. 

Before weighing the details of any choice, pause and ask: What am I ultimately working toward?  Naming the direction helps you evaluate whether the choice is a step forward or a detour.

• Courage: Most of the decisions that shape our lives are not comfortable ones. They require stepping into uncertainty, risking rejection, or facing failure. Courage isn’t the absence of fear but the willingness to choose in spite of it. When we hesitate too long, the decision often gets made for us by default, and that is rarely the choice we would have made with intention. 

This means we need to call our hesitation into question. Ask yourself: Am I avoiding this choice because it challenges me, or because it’s truly unwise? Comfort-driven decisions often seem easier at the time but can lead to regret later.

• Consequence: Every yes is also a no. Decisions always carry trade-offs, whether in time, money, energy, or opportunity. Too often, we look only at what we gain from a choice, not what it will cost us. Considering consequences doesn’t mean we never take risks; it means we take them with our eyes open. 

When facing a decision, consider all the potential outcomes and risks. When we weigh both sides honestly, we take ownership of our choices rather than feel blindsided by them later.

• Alignment: A decision that looks good on paper can still be wrong if it doesn’t align with your deeper values and long-term story. Alignment asks: Does this choice fit who I want to be and what I want my life to stand for? It also asks if this decision is in alignment with all of the other priorities you are working from in any given season. When decisions are aligned, they may still be difficult, but they carry a sense of integrity and peace that sustains us through the challenges.

Always view decisions through the lens of your future self. Does this decision help you build the kind of life or work you want to be known for? Or does it compromise something you know matters deeply to you? Alignment ensures that progress isn’t just movement, it’s movement in the right direction.

What to Look For 

• Replaying the same choice over and over without resolution.
• Waiting so long to decide that circumstances decide for you.
• Saying yes automatically and only realizing later what you’ve said no to.
• Second-guessing yourself after every choice instead of moving forward with it.
• Choosing what feels comfortable now but leaves you stuck later.
• Avoiding opportunities because you’re afraid of getting it “wrong.”

The two biggest barriers to good decision-making
are your ego and your blind spots.
Together, they make it difficult for you to
objectively see what is true about you and
your circumstances and to
make the best possible decisions.
 
~ Ray Dalio

Decision-Making and Direction FAQs:

Remember that these FAQs aren’t about grand revelations. They are about grounding. They are prompts designed to invite honesty and curiosity about our current and future state.

This week, we’re focused on the four pillars. Together, they invite us to consider these questions: 

• Am I clear on where I’m going?
• Am I willing to choose courage over comfort?
• Am I being honest about the trade-offs?
• Am I aligned with my deeper story?

When those four are in place, you can step forward with confidence even if the outcome isn’t guaranteed because you’ve made the best decision available to you.

How do you know you’re asking the right questions?

• They move you from confusion to clarity.
• They help you recognize both opportunity and consequence.
• They create momentum, and you can sense the next step more clearly.
• They invite courage, not just comfort.
• They connect today’s choices to tomorrow’s story.

In the long run, we shape our lives,
and we shape ourselves.
The process never ends until we die.
And the choices we make
are ultimately our own responsibility.

~ Eleanor Roosevelt

When I look back at my decision to return to college, I can see now how it rested on all four pillars of strong decision-making. At the time, I didn’t have this language for it, but I was living it.

• Clarity of Direction: I knew exactly why I was going back. I was tired of being passed over or holding myself back because I didn’t have a degree. My direction was clear: I wanted to create new opportunities by removing that barrier.
• Courage: The choice wasn’t convenient. I was a single mom, working full-time, and adding school full-time to my plate. It would have been easier to stay where I was. Choosing school required courage to step into the unknown and believe I could carry the load.
• Consequence: I understood there would be costs. Time, energy, money, and countless late nights were all real trade-offs. But I also saw that the greater cost would be doing nothing and remaining stuck where I was.
• Alignment: At the heart of it, going back to school aligned with who I wanted to be. Growth, resilience, and possibility had always been part of my story. This choice honored those values and set an example I hoped my daughter would carry forward in her own life, and she has.

That decision didn’t just earn me a degree. It changed how I saw myself and how I shaped my future. It confirmed what I now believe with certainty: We really are always just one decision away from a different direction.

Remember that decisions are where true possibility begins.

Of course, decisions don’t stand alone. Once we’ve chosen a direction, the real test is weaving those choices into the rhythms of our daily lives and ensuring they integrate with the bigger picture.

This Domain’s Additional Resources (Books):
 
Thinking in Bets — Annie Duke
Principles — Ray Dalio
The Road to Character — David Brooks
Right Thing, Right Now – Ryan Holiday
The Power of No: Because One Little Word Can Bring Health, Abundance, and Happiness – James Altucher and Claudia Altucher

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