By day, I'm a leadership and organization development consultant. Outside of that role, I'm an interfaith minister. In both roles, I help people feel a greater sense of connectedness to themselves and the world around them, and find greater purpose and meaning in their work and life.

There is a particular kind of leader I have had the privilege of working with over the years — not the most decorated, not always the most senior, but unmistakably the most generative.

You know them when you walk into a room they've shaped. Something is different. People are more themselves. There is less performance, less guardedness, more of the particular aliveness that emerges when people feel genuinely safe, genuinely seen, and genuinely part of something that matters.

When leaders first encounter the word "empowered," most of them think inward.

Confidence. Self-belief. The ability to make decisions without second-guessing themselves into paralysis. And yes — all of that is part of it. But in two decades of working with leaders, I've found that the leaders who feel most genuinely empowered are not necessarily the most self-assured in a room. They are the ones who know how to be in relationship.

I've worked with a lot of leaders who feel quietly guilty about purpose.

Not because they lack it. But because they're not sure they've found it — at least not in the way they were told they would. No lightning-bolt moment. No singular calling that reorganized everything. Just a persistent, underlying sense that what they're doing matters, interrupted regularly by doubt, fatigue, and the ordinary friction of a complex life.

I want to suggest that this is not a failure of purpose. This is what purpose actually looks like.

Early in my coaching career, I sat with a man who had built something remarkable — a team, a culture, a reputation for integrity and results that others pointed to as a model. By every external measure, he was thriving.

And yet the first thing he said to me, quietly, almost as an aside, was: "I'm not sure any of them would still respect me if they really knew me."

We talk extensively about mental burnout. We talk about emotional exhaustion. We talk far less about what I'd call somatic disconnection — the gradual erosion of our relationship with our own physical experience. And yet the body is not separate from our leadership. It is the ground from which everything else grows.

There is a particular kind of exhaustion that high-achieving leaders know well. It isn't the tired that comes from too many hours or too little sleep. It's something subtler — a depletion that sets in when you've been working against yourself, pushing hard in a direction that doesn't feel natural, wondering somewhere underneath it all whether you're actually built for this.

Happy World Labyrinth Day!

Today, many people around the globe will walk a labyrinth at 1:00 p.m. local time, to help create a rolling wave of peaceful energy passing from one time zone to the next.

Many of the leaders we work with share a quiet, common experience: they are giving a great deal — to their teams, their organizations, their communities — while receiving very little that actually restores them.

I’m always aware that the community around my work is beautifully diverse. Some of you are here because of my executive coaching and organizational development work. Others are drawn to my interfaith ministry. And many of you are curious about how these worlds intersect.

This recent sermon lives right at that intersection.

We’ve been taught to respond to stress, overwhelm, and change with a familiar prescription: self-care.

Take a break. Get more rest. Set better boundaries.

And while these matter, they often don’t go far enough.

Over the past two weeks, I led a day retreat of A Fuller Cup™ and co-led a virtual weekend of Seasons of Need™. In both spaces, something meaningful happened: people slowed down enough to reconnect with their true nature.

They had the opportunity to be seen, heard, and reflect on how to get their needs more fully met — while also exploring how we build more sustainable communities of care.

These are outcomes that matter deeply in today’s demanding and uncertain world.

We live in a time of constant demand.

Deadlines. Decisions. Divisiveness.
Caregiving. Change. Complexity.

Many of the leaders and caregivers I work with are deeply committed people. They show up. They serve. They hold space. They carry responsibility — often quietly.

And yet, when it comes to themselves, self-care can feel indulgent. Optional. Even selfish.

But here’s the truth:

Self-care is not a withdrawal from responsibility.
It is what makes responsible leadership sustainable.

Many leaders are exhausted—not because they lack commitment or competence, but because they’ve been carrying more than ever, for too long.

Burnout, in this context, isn’t a failure.
It’s information.

It tells us something about both the self and the systems we’re operating within.

The Sacred Pause

A Free Weekly Gathering in Silence

In a world of constant noise, urgency, and uncertainty, The Sacred Pause offers a simple invitation: to stop, be still, and rest in silence—together.

This is not a class, workshop, or discussion. It is a quiet, shared experience designed to create space for calm, clarity, and inner grounding.

No meditation, prayer, or mindfulness experience is required. You don’t need to prepare or participate in any particular way. Simply arrive as you are.

Many leaders in caring professions — coaches, therapists, ministers, doctors, nurses — approach self-care the same way they approach their work: with commitment, discipline, and a desire to do it well.

But when we bring our high-achieving, goal-oriented selves into self-care, it can quietly defeat the very purpose.

True self-care isn’t something to conquer.
It’s something that nourishes.

It’s about identifying the practices you look forward to, return to again and again, and rely on to sustain your energy, clarity, and capacity to serve.

If you are someone who leads and serves with heart, you are likely carrying more than most people realize.

Ambitious, values-driven leaders often neglect their own care—not because they don’t know better, but because the needs around them feel urgent and unrelenting. Over time, this takes a toll.

I am declaring this year to be one of Collective Care. The pace of change, the challenge of complexity and uncertainty, the poly crisis before us… you name your stressor. They are taking their toll on our individual and collective well-being. We all have enough to consider, on top of our jobs, to have us feeling depleted, or on the verge of burnout – even in the context of a new year beginning.

We are living in an unpredictable, hurting world and need one another now more than ever – to love, be loved, to care, to do the right thing, to speak up… and the list goes on. 

Sometimes, we just need to stop, pause, rest, and recover. May you take time to rest in your still point this holiday season, find gratitude, and the next right action when the time is right. 

“Grounded Gratitude” means you are identifying ways in which you are thankful for ALL of what you are navigating, not just the high points. It’s a mindful practice about also finding the positive or blessing in the low points or what is not wanted. THIS is the REAL work of gratitude.