In the rush to "choose our battles," we risk detaching not just from conflict but from connection itself. Detachment may feel safe, but it anesthetizes the heart, clouding our ability to see and respond clearly. True clarity and collaboration emerge when we let go of detachment and lean into connection.

Restlessness scatters our attention, pulling us away from the present moment. Yet focus isn’t about never losing attention—it’s about learning to return. By calming the storm of agitation, we uncover the clarity and presence needed to navigate life’s demands with wisdom and grace.

Doubt clouds the mind like suspended mud in water, whispering the story of “not enough.” But doubt isn’t a roadblock—it’s a guidepost. By naming it and embracing the wisdom of not knowing, we can move beyond limiting beliefs and find clarity and confidence on the Insightful Path.

In this post, I reflect on a powerful experience I had while on an approximate 5,500-kilometer solo walk across America, searching for purpose. One of the standout moments came in Sully, Iowa, where I encountered a 60-foot-tall sculpture made from over 200 welded wagon wheels, created by 90-year-old Leonard J. Maasdam. His untrained, intuitive approach to art inspired me to think about the nature of creativity—how it can live in all of us, regardless of formal training. This post explores how art, like Maasdam’s wheel tower, is not confined to galleries or schools; it’s something universal that can be experienced and created by anyone.

There’s a quiet, often overlooked truth about how we show up in the world: what we wear profoundly impacts the way we approach the tasks, challenges, and relationships that shape our professional lives. For many of us, the office, even if that office is at home, is more than just a physical space; it’s where we cultivate ideas, solutions, and contributions that reflect our values and sense of purpose. But before any of that can happen, we first need to prepare ourselves. And one of the most important ways to do that is by carefully considering what we wear.

For the longest time, I viewed networking through the lens of numbers. I was told as a beginning entrepreneur, that it was a ‘numbers game’. It was all about accumulating connections—more people, more possibilities. I was told that the larger my network, the more impact I could have. It was a game of growth, one I thought was measured in metrics: followers, connections, messages sent, and posts posted. The problem with this approach, however, is that it subtly drove my communication style in a direction I hadn’t fully realized. It became transactional, impersonal, and it just felt less valuable.

Gratitude often feels like a soft, passive emotion—something we express when things are going well or when we’re on the receiving end of kindness. But there’s another kind of gratitude, one that’s far more active and interwoven with the work we do in the world. As a coach, I’ve come to understand gratitude as not just a response to life’s gifts but as something that emerges through deep, reciprocal human connection.

It’s easy to become overwhelmed by the weight of the world today. Between the ongoing challenges of climate change, political division, and economic uncertainty, it can feel as though the world is moving faster than we can keep up. This feeling of disruption can often lead us to retreat into old ways of thinking, or to dismiss the urgency of change entirely. But the truth is that our commitment to improving society—building something better for ourselves, our children, and future generations—may depend not just on the changes we make but on the narrative we embrace to face them.

This post is about three wonderful humans, all from different contexts, but all who have stories that inspired me, and, I hope, will inspire you too. They are souls who have gone before, endured much, and somehow managed to make a difference. The stories of those souls who inspire me with their journey of insight, and I hope they will help you to return to connecting with your best self - and make a difference in whatever context you are in.

Art matters. It can inspire, or inform. It can provoke, and make people think. It can be pleasing to the eye, or confronting to the soul. But art, good art, has power.

Recently I travelled the three hours to one of my favourite art galleries, the Art Gallery of NSW, in Sydney, Australia to, in these surreal times, see to work of one of the most famous of the Surrealists, Belgian painter and provocateur, Rene Magritte.

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. -W.H. Murray, 1950

The metaphor of a 'cup overflowing' is an old proverb, I first heard in studying Zen, and it has deeply resonated and stayed with me across the years. While easy enough to intellectually understand, it can be very difficult to travel with!

We have the power to embrace the utility of regret. One of the thing that has helped me to more consciously do so, is to take the time to really observe the sensation of regret. When I’ve done something, and I start to feel the arising of regret, I have found, that if I look closely enough, I can see two aspects of this emotion, those being the:
1) ‘conscious remorse for my unskillfulness’; and
2) ‘a resolve to correct this unskillfulness and not further perpetuate it’.

And it is here, where the usefulness of the emotion can be found.

When I think about how I learned to ‘be a man’, I can’t think of any time when I was specifically taught that ‘this is how one becomes a man’. For me, it was never explicit. It was more of a gradual combination of insights, either shared openly from my role models, or implicit within the subtle influences of my community and society.

This post looks at two of my role models. One I met early on as a young man, and the other I’ve yet to meet, but have become aware of in the past few years, who has inspired me to be a better man.

The paths they traveled to bring them to that moment, talking with me, were full of insights, and inspiration… and wisdom. And I realised then, if one could really SEE, that these men and women were filling roles that were critical in the narrative of what was to me, the American story.
And I guess this is why I’m writing this chapter. Because the lessons I learned on the road hold an especially important message to those that would lead today.

Before I outline this message, I want to first share who first helped me to hear it. It was first planted in my mind by one of my Dad’s Heroes, who has since become one of mine.

The problems we as a society are facing, be it in my home country of America, or my now home of Australia, or anywhere that people are trying to make life better…. these problems are incredibly complex. They are multi-faceted. They can not be solved by one voice, or by one agency, or even by one political faction or the other.

By their very nature, the problems humanity now faces will demand a collaborative approach to address.

If you see this, then it is to you to develop your abilities to sit with the discomfort of self-growth in order to address it. You will need to find ways that you can experientially show your respect for those on the ‘other sides’ of an issue. You will need to build your insights around collaboration if you are going to be able to build coalitions of people working to advocate and come together for the Common Good.

“Cultivating mindfulness allows us to self-regulate more effectively and, from a mindful vantage point, leaders are better able to respond rather than react, and to learn from, rather than avoid challenge…” (Atkins, P. 2008:80)

This post uses relevant research from political leadership studies, public sector leadership studies and the growing body of mindfulness research to create an argument for a more mindful presence in leadership to address complex challenges and enable thriving.

Inspired by Nobel Price winner, and American author John Steinbeck, and his travels with his dog ‘Charlie’ across his homeland, I too wanted to figure out what it meant to be who I am, and to understand what it means to be ‘an American’.

I had left, on foot, with this intention. I knew I needed to ‘figure things out’ and that if I didn’t, I might surely die.

Regardless of your political affiliation, there are behaviours which I think every leader should aspire to. These behaviours apply, in my opinion, to all leaders regardless if they are in the political world, private industry, not-for-profit, or the public sector.

And best of all, you can develop your skills and practice of these behaviours.

If you are a leader, or an aspiring leader, this insightful path is the key to unlocking your ability to develop these, and other important skills which are required to survive and thrive in your service to a greater good.

Art can light the way for deep insights to arise. And it can make the path all the more enjoyable.