Centered by Family, Moved by Music
My Anchor and My Rhythm
Before any title, I’m a dad. My kids have shaped me more than any classroom or boardroom ever could. They’ve taught me that strength is about drawing out what’s already inside. As Marcus Buckingham reminds us: “Don’t waste time trying to put in what was left out. Draw out what was left in. That is hard enough.”
Family life grounds me in gratitude.
Even the hardest moments hold lessons, deepening my empathy and reminding me that love is the real engine of growth.
If family steadies me, music carries me forward. Songs have a way of cracking me open and calling me higher, reminding me to choose courage over cynicism and hope over fear.
Family teaches me empathy, music calls me to courage. Together they shape the way I live and lead.
Voices That Shape Me
Along the way, I’ve been shaped by voices that challenge me to see life with more courage, humility, and imagination. Certain words stay with me, reminding me to show up fully, to listen deeply, and to keep creating what wasn’t there before.
Ricardo Semler
“If you have to give back, maybe you took too much.”
Semler’s radical rethinking of business and leadership reminds me to stay grounded in fairness and humility. It’s not about excess, it’s about balance and responsibility.
Brené Brown
“This is who I want to be. I want to create. I want to make things that didn’t exist before I touched them. I want to show up and be seen in my work and in my life.”
Brown’s words call me to live with vulnerability and courage—to show up, even when it’s uncomfortable, and to keep creating what matters.
Adam Grant
“The greatest originals are the ones who fail the most, because they’re the ones who try the most.”
Adam Grant’s take on originality reminds me that fear and doubt aren’t barriers. They’re part of the process. What matters is refusing to accept the default, and being willing to try, fail, and try again until something meaningful takes shape.
Denzel Washington
“If you don’t fail, you’re not even trying.”
This one stays with me: the idea that the ‘ghosts’ of our unfulfilled potential stand by our bed at the end, asking why we never brought them to life. It’s a push to bet on purpose, take big swings, and keep moving. Maybe imperfectly, but forward.
Music as a Compass
Music has always been more than background for me. It’s a compass, calling me to hope over fear, courage over cynicism, and authenticity over doubt. The right lyric pushes me to take a stand, to remember the power of love, and to keep choosing who I want to be.
Ben Harper
“What good is a man who won’t take a stand? What good is a cynic with no better plan?”
Harper’s words strip things down to the essentials: silence and cynicism don’t move the world forward. His music pushes me to speak up, to act, and to remember that change starts with the courage to stand for something.
The Avett Brothers
“If you’re loved by someone you’re never rejected. Decide what to be and go be it.”
This song reminds me that love is the ground beneath our feet, and from that place of belonging, we’re free to choose who we want to become. The Avetts put to music the challenge of authenticity: an invitation to live honestly, even when it’s risky.
Stories That Move Me
Some lessons come through lyrics, others through stories. I’m often moved by characters and conversations that carry simple truths with surprising depth—reminders to stay curious, to honor love, and to find gratitude even in life’s hardest moments.
Ted Lasso
“Be curious, not judgmental.”
In this scene, Ted’s humility and humor disarm arrogance with a dartboard and a story about his dad. His reminder to “be curious, not judgmental” stays with me as a call to approach others with openness instead of assumption.
Andrew Garfield with Stephen Colbert
“Grief is just unexpressed love.”
When I heard Andrew Garfield say this, it reshaped how I think about loss. His words remind me that grief isn’t something to avoid or hide. It’s a reflection of the love that remains.
Anderson Cooper With Stephen Colbert
“You can’t pick and choose. You have to learn to love the thing you most wish hadn’t happened.”
This conversation is a lesson in gratitude for the whole of life. The beautiful and the brutal. It challenges me to stop wishing away hardship and instead learn to hold love and loss together.
At the center of everything, I return to family and music. My anchor and my rhythm. But I’ve also been carried forward by voices, songs, and stories that remind me how to live with love, humility, and courage.
Some challenge me to stand up, others invite me to slow down. Some help me grieve, others call me to laugh. Together, they form the compass I try to follow: a life of empathy, curiosity, and the courage to create.
Grateful for the roots, carried forward by the rhythm.