Yesterday was a rainy Sunday, and my family didn’t have plans. So I booked an escape room for us to do together. For anyone unfamiliar with escape rooms, you are placed in a themed room and given an hour to find clues, solve puzzles, open locks, and complete a larger challenge. This was far from our first escape room. It was the first time, though, that I found myself thinking about the experience afterward.

A close friend often texts me a photograph of the early morning sky while he is out walking. It is a simple practice, but I’ve started to realize how much it contains.

How do you forgive someone when you know they have said harsh things about you? How do you stop replaying what happened or tensing up whenever they are around? How can you ever trust them again or allow any closeness?

Lately, I’ve been rereading a classic, Stephen Covey’s The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. One idea that has really stuck with me is Covey’s concept of principle-centered living.

Recently, my wife and I went to a 90s nostalgia concert featuring the Spin Doctors, Blues Traveler, and Gin Blossoms. We were joined by thousands of our formerly young peers.

Spoiler warning: This reflection discusses major plot points from the film The Drama. I recently watched The Drama, starring Robert Pattinson and Zendaya as Charlie and Emma, an engaged couple preparing for their wedding. While watching it, I wasn’t sure how I felt. The subject matter is complicated and uncomfortable. But I kept thinking about the film afterward, particularly its treatment of sticky thoughts and the possibility of beginning again.

My daughter has been involved in musical theater for years. She’s now in seventh grade and has already participated in around twenty productions, along with various classes and training. She loves it. She has also experienced plenty of disappointment.

A shared human experience is disappointment. No matter how thoughtful, prepared, or optimistic we are, we cannot avoid it. Some people go to great lengths to protect themselves from disappointment. They avoid getting their hopes up or expect the worst so they won't be caught off guard. But to truly engage with life is to accept the possibility of disappointment.

When relationships become challenging, our brains naturally shift into protection mode. Our negativity bias kicks in. Stress hormones rise. We feel the urge to defend ourselves, explain our position, or prove we're right. Unfortunately, that's often when we say things we later regret, damaging the very relationship we're trying to protect. What if there were another way?

As summer comes to a close in a few weeks, my daughter still hadn't finished her summer reading assignment. She had made significant progress but stalled out with the last 25%. We had talked about finishing it early so she could enjoy the final days of summer without it hanging over her. So, what to do?

Each of us has many different selves, interests, needs, strengths, and opportunities for growth. We are wonderfully diverse, and that diversity enriches our relationships, workplaces, and communities. At the same time, it can also lead to misunderstanding, frustration, and conflict. Such is one of the many dualities of life.

One of the most comforting feelings we experience is the power of connection—seeing an old friend, celebrating with family, sharing a laugh with a colleague. These moments can lift our mood and remind us that we are not navigating life alone.

Most of us go through periods where we feel stuck, stagnant, or simply unmotivated. During these times, our minds often focus on what’s missing, what’s not working, or how far we still have to go.

Lately, I’ve noticed that my new clients want to talk about motivation and time management. They know there is something they want to do or a goal they want to pursue, but they find themselves distracted, procrastinating, or losing momentum. Naturally, they want tactics that will help them stay focused and productive.

One theme that keeps emerging as I work with clients is a hesitation toward change and relinquishing control. This is a deeply human quality — by nature, our wiring makes us risk-averse and comfortable with our automatic patterns for how we live. Our minds also tend to predict what’s to come by taking our current circumstances and projecting them into the future.

I often meditate twice a day — once very early in the morning as part of a routine to start my day with greater clarity and intention, and often again later in the morning or early afternoon to reset and reconnect before moving into the rest of the day.

Recently, I’ve had several conversations with people who are worried about something subtle but important:

“What if the way I see someone I care about starts to change because I keep noticing the things they do that bother me?”

Conversations about burnout have been showing up frequently in my work lately. Recently, I’ve spoken with several individuals who feel depleted or stuck in their roles and are beginning to question how their work fits into the broader context of their lives. These conversations have been especially interesting for me because they connect to my own professional journey.

Lately, I’ve had the good fortune of revisiting several classic books in positive psychology. Not articles about them or summaries, but the original source texts themselves. Even though I’m familiar with many of the ideas, returning to these books has invited me into what is often called a beginner’s mind.

One of my favorite exercises to work on with people is writing a gratitude letter—a short note in which you share appreciation for someone and describe, in specific terms, why you are grateful for them. Consistently, people tell me that by taking just five to ten minutes of quiet time to write, they are able to say what they truly want to say, using language that would be much harder to find in an in-person, on-the-spot moment. This simple pause is often transformational.