If you keep making photocopies of photocopies of photocopies, eventually the copy isn’t legible anymore. That’s what happens, he said, when we stop doing the real, effortful thinking ourselves — and AI has made it very easy to stop.

Most leaders I coach don't consider themselves to be competitive. But comparison sneaks in anyway. It’s the peer who got promoted faster, the team that seems to ship more, and lately, it feels like we are even in competition with AI itself. Hear more about how an engineer leader in Amazon is handling the dynamics of this evolving AI world.

Mindfulness is not just something you tack on as an afterthought. It is a fundamental foundation in approach. It’s something you carry with you into every moment. Mindfulness helps with the capacity to pause between stimulus and response. To recognize the fear driving the decision, even before the decision is made.

Lean into your humanity. Be the one who sits with their struggling friend instead of trying to fix their problems. Savor the moments when you were simply, fully present with another person in a way no algorithm could ever possibly be.

If you are dealing with some tough emotions right now: depression is not a character flaw and it’s not about being ungrateful for what you have. Depression is not failure. It is simply how we process what cannot be processed any other way.

Grief has its own timeline. Anger manifests distinctly. The most mindful thing you can do is not to rush past either one. You can’t perform your way through anger or pretend it doesn’t exist. You can’t negotiate with it until it agrees to disappear.

Even when presented with undeniable evidence, a part of me still clung to denial. Denial that anything was really all that wrong.

When the technological playing field levels out — which it inevitably will — organizations will be competing on the quality of their leaders and in their ability to navigate uncertainty. The differentiator won’t be who adopted the best tools the fastest. It will be those who built the most trusted and capable leaders.

Love isn’t a finite resource. It’s not something we can run out of when it’s given freely. Love is regenerative.

There is no artificial intelligence in the world that can replace the learning, growth, and wisdom that come from the lived human experience. From trying and failing. From being in a room full of other people who have stumbled, then found their footing and turned to extend their hand to help someone else.

Our thoughts define us. So it’s important to control them. But like anyone else, it is not always easy to redirect. I am aware of the importance of being mindful. I know how to use all the tools in my toolbox – meditation, pranayama, journaling – and I know that entering an emotional spiral does not serve me.

In a world that is moving quickly, that kind of centered leadership matters more than ever. So if you’ve been holding on tightly to a dream, perhaps this is an invitation to loosen your grip just a little. Stay curious. Create space for expansion. See what might emerge.

This journey is not just about my knee or my spine. Or even my hip. It is about the injuries beneath the injuries. About the visible and the invisible pain. About all the ways I have learned to override myself. The ways I have normalized self-denial along the way. And all the ways I am being invited to listen and respond anew.

Being strong doesn’t mean going it alone. It means allowing yourself to accept help. To understand that the healing you need might have to come from beyond your own application of discipline and resilience.

There are people whose circumstances look objectively hard. Yet they remain expansive.

There are people whose circumstances look objectively comfortable. But they live their life in contraction - never claiming their joy.

The correlation is not as simple as we would like it to be.

Our dreams are universal - a better future for our children, an easier life for our siblings or our parents, a comfortable community for our neighbors, new wheels so we can get around easier. The dreams Tanu shared were not exceptional.

It’s a story as old as time and yet still brand new. It’s generational sacrifice that propels the next onward to a bigger and brighter future. Inside every one of us, there are entire worlds – stories to tell – motivations that drive us – lessons we can share.

My journey had come full circle. I’d returned to where I started, and along the way, I’d grown so much. The unexpected resilience of managing health conditions and of being open to receiving treatment enriched my awareness of the depths of compassion and caregiving. About how it can affect the giver and the receiver, too.

I also learned that joy can be found in unexpected places, in unplanned experiences – and this improvisational joy can be just as beautiful as carefully designed joy.

Mumbai does not try to hide its contrasts.

There are no carefully drawn lines separating wealth from poverty, no invisible buffers designed to soften the view. The city does not arrange itself politely.

Instead, everything exists side by side. To an outsider, it can feel overwhelming.

We are used to cities where life is carefully managed into building zones, where everything appears orderly and predictable.

Mumbai is none of that.

It is vast. Uncontained. Intensely alive.

When I arrived in India, my body was at war with itself. And now, in my attempt to leave, countries are at war with one another.

We had a deliberate departure prepared. Every detail planned. But now, we must be flexible. Once again.

In January, my word was Joy.

I thought I knew what that meant.

But by the end of the month, I was forced to redefine it entirely.

This month, my focus word is Miracle.

Not the audacious kind that saints are born from, but the kind that asks:

What if healing can happen in more ways than just one?