THIS PAGE IS A WORK IN PROGRESS - I believe in iteration, so rather than wait to have all of the ideas finished, I’ve decided to publish this page (maybe as a catalyst to finish my thoughts here).

Slow is Fast

Leadership, as it turns out, isn’t about doing everything all at once like a deranged plate-spinner on speed. It’s about doing the right things, one at a time, and doing them well. Good leaders understand this curious paradox: slow is fast.

Think of it as the difference between a leisurely walk through a park and a frantic sprint while juggling flaming torches. The sprinter might look busy—terrifyingly so—but the walker gets further with fewer burn marks. Leaders who stick to a methodical pace, tackling tasks with deliberate focus rather than ricocheting between priorities, actually accomplish more.

The idea of “slow is fast” isn’t new—it stems from the wisdom of “slow is smooth, and smooth is fast,” a mantra famously embraced by military operators and other high-stakes professions. The principle is simple but profound: when you take your time to do something right, with care and attention, you eliminate errors, reduce rework, and ultimately move faster toward success.

This concept has become a cornerstone of how I guide my own leadership style. I’ve found that by resisting the urge to chase every shiny new priority and instead working through challenges with patience and precision, I’m able to achieve more—and help my team do the same.

I recommend this approach to anyone leading a team, a project, or even their own personal goals. It’s not about being slow in a lazy way; it’s about being deliberate. And it’s certainly not about being perfect; it’s about being steady. So the next time you’re tempted to spin all the plates at once, remember: slow is fast. And if nothing else, it’s far less likely to set your hair on fire.

Early. Loud. Continuous.

Leadership, like basketball, often comes down to fundamentals executed well. And when Denver Nuggets coach Michael Malone described his communication expectations as “early, loud, continuous,” he wasn’t just talking about basketball—he was offering a masterclass in leadership principles that can guide any team to success.

The brilliance of “early, loud, continuous” lies in its simplicity. Speak early to anticipate problems before they spiral. Be loud—not in volume alone, but in clarity and conviction—so no one is left guessing. And remain continuous, ensuring the message doesn’t get lost in the shuffle or fade when the pressure mounts.

I’ve adopted this mantra as a core part of my leadership philosophy, not because I aspire to run a full-court press in a boardroom (though that might be entertaining), but because it embodies the traits of great leadership. Early communication shows you’re prepared. Loud communication demonstrates confidence and ensures alignment. And continuous communication builds trust, steadies the team, and keeps everyone moving in sync, even when the game gets tough.

Whether you’re coaching a basketball team, managing a project, or leading a family through the chaos of life, “early, loud, continuous” works. It cuts through noise, clarifies roles, and fosters a culture of accountability. It’s not about yelling or micromanaging; it’s about setting clear expectations, staying engaged, and making sure your team knows you’re in the game with them.

So, take it from Michael Malone: if you want your team to win—on the court or off—start early, stay loud, and never stop communicating. Because in leadership, as in basketball, the fundamentals make all the difference.

Focus is Finite

Leadership, at its core, is about choices—deciding where to direct your energy and ensuring your team does the same. And here’s the hard truth: focus is finite. You can’t do everything, and neither can your team. Trying to spread your attention too thin is like trying to light up a stadium with a flashlight: it’s exhausting, ineffective, and makes you look a bit ridiculous.

The idea that focus is finite isn’t new, but it’s often overlooked. In a world that glorifies multitasking, it’s easy to mistake busyness for productivity. True leadership, however, is about recognizing that you only have so much mental energy, so much time, and so much attention to give. The trick is to channel it deliberately toward what matters most.

This concept has become a cornerstone of how I lead. I strive to prioritize ruthlessly, ensuring my focus—and my team’s—is placed on tasks that align with our goals. If everything is urgent, then nothing truly is. By acknowledging the limits of focus, I’ve found we can work smarter, avoid burnout, and achieve meaningful progress without getting lost in the weeds.

I recommend embracing “focus is finite” as a guiding principle for anyone managing projects, teams, or even just their own time. It’s not about doing less for the sake of doing less; it’s about doing the right things well. Remember, you’re not a flashlight—you’re a laser. And when you concentrate your efforts, you can cut through the noise and illuminate the path to success.

“Do the hard work”

Years ago, a company I was a part of had a senior team tasked with defining the company’s brand values—a project that felt both thrilling and daunting. After countless meetings, brainstorms, and sticky notes, the C-suite proudly compiled a list of 17 brand values and sent for the the creative director. They were ready to revel their brilliance.

He arrived, took one look at the list, and —without so much as reading a word— said, “Nope. You haven’t done the hard work yet. Do the hard work and get the number down.” Then, just as quickly, he turned and walked out.

The group deciding on their values had avoided the hard decisions—choosing which values truly defined them and, by extension, what we could let go. Instead of doing the difficult but necessary work of prioritizing, they’d created a bloated list that tried to be everything to everyone and meant nothing in the process.

That creative director’s advice—“do the hard work”—has stuck with me ever since. It’s become a personal philosophy, shaping how I approach leadership, strategy, and problem-solving. The truth is, the hard work isn’t just unavoidable; it’s where the magic happens. It’s in saying “no” to good ideas so you can focus on the great ones. It’s in making choices that hurt a little because they ultimately serve the greater goal.

So now, whether I’m setting priorities, guiding a team, or defining what matters most, I remind myself of that moment. Doing the hard work might not be easy or comfortable, but it’s what separates the meaningful from the mediocre. After all, it’s far better to have five values that everyone can recite and believe in than 17 that no one even really knows.

Talent Into Triumph: Strength Based Leading

Management, I’ve come to realize, is a bit like alchemy. The goal isn’t to turn lead into gold but to take the unique talents of each person on your team and turn them into performance for your organization. It’s an art, a science, and occasionally, a bit like trying to stack marbles on a windy day.

At its heart, this is what strength-based leadership is all about: not trying to make people into something they’re not but leveraging what they already do exceptionally well. It’s recognizing that the quiet person in the corner may not speak up in meetings but writes reports so sharp they could slice through steel. Or that the boisterous one who always derails the agenda might just be your most persuasive negotiator if you point them in the right direction.

The craft of management is figuring out how to align those strengths with the needs of the team and the goals of the organization. It’s less about shaping people into cookie-cutter roles and more about being a talent detective—spotting what makes someone tick, what makes them shine, and finding ways to amplify that.

In my experience, leaning into this approach isn’t just good for performance; it’s good for morale. People are happier—and better—when they get to do what they’re naturally good at. And let’s be honest, it’s far easier to guide a rowboat when the oars are already in rhythm with the current.

So, if you’re a manager—or aspiring to be one—remember this: don’t try to change the current. Instead, steer the boat. Embrace the individuality of your team, turn their talents into momentum, and marvel as their strengths propel the organization forward. And if nothing else, it’s far less frustrating than trying to stack marbles in a hurricane.

What’s Next….