May The Force Be With You, If It’s The Answer

In physics, a vector isn’t just about force. Its direction. It tells you “how much” and “which way.”

For a long time, I believed that was my job. To be in the middle of everything, so that I could direct.

For every client.
Every decision.
Every fire.
Every important conversation.

I told myself that was leadership.

But during a coaching conversation this week and accumulating over the last several, someone said something so obvious that I felt like a lightbulb was on top of my head.

My team doesn’t need me in the middle of everything. In fact, the biggest thing standing between them and doing some of their best work… might be me.

That wasn’t a criticism. It felt like a gift.

More importantly, it gives me something I haven’t had enough of lately: the freedom to choose where my presence matters most.

As JHD has grown over the years, I’ve found myself naturally pulled toward larger projects with bigger teams, more moving parts, and longer timelines. I love those opportunities, and I’m incredibly proud of the work we do.

But I’ve realized something.

I miss sitting across the table from someone who just needs help figuring out the next step.

I miss the conversations where a single idea changes absolutely everything.

I miss being close enough to the work that I can feel the spark happen in real time.

Maybe that’s what this season is asking of me. Not to do less, but to be more intentional about where I show up.

Then I found myself talking with a group of peers about pricing and admitted something I’d quietly done. During a crisis project, I charged what the work was worth. When the emergency passed, I slipped right back to my old rate without much resistance.

The room pushed back.

They encouraged me to hold my value instead of retreating to what felt familiar.

I appreciated every word they shared.

At the same time, I caught myself realizing something else.

Good advice still requires discernment.

The people around that table genuinely wanted the best for me, but they aren’t necessarily the exact clients I’m building the future of JHD around.

Both things can be true. You can receive encouragement while still deciding which direction you actually want to travel.

That’s a vector too.

On Thursday morning at Thought Lab at The Nexus, the conversation somehow landed in exactly the same place, while we were talking about ambition.

Someone observed that ambition isn’t really about how much of it you have. It’s about what it’s pointed toward and where it comes from.

The funny thing is, the next morning two different newsletters landed in my inbox, both talking about ambition from completely different angles.

Some weeks, life seems determined to keep repeating the lesson until you’re finally ready to hear it.

Then, Independence Day arrived. It was one of those full summer days that felt both busy and slow at the same time.

The parade in the morning. A friend’s pool in the afternoon. Our neighborhood kids’ parade. Fireworks after sunset.

At one point, my three kids were tucked in beside Katie and me watching the sky. Some leaned against her. One climbed into my lap. A friend of ours (a chef who spends his career helping create memorable celebrations) looked around and smiled.

“This feels like a Hallmark movie.”

Coming from someone who lives inside special moments for a living, that felt like high praise.

The next day, I watched my kids do something adults often forget how to do. They met a neighbor they’d barely known and, within minutes, were completely comfortable walking alongside them, laughing, talking, reaching for another trusted hand without hesitation.

Kids don’t cling as tightly as we do. They trust the room.

Watching them, I couldn’t help but think about my team.

Maybe leadership is creating an environment where people know they’re trusted enough to keep moving without you hovering over every step.

That’s something I’m still learning. Thankfully, I’m not learning it alone.

If it’s a coach asking the next question, peers challenging old habits, conversations at The Nexus, or the incredible team we’ve built at JHD, I’ve realized something important.

Left alone, ambition can slowly become appetite.

But ambition refined in community becomes purpose.

Looking back, I don’t think this week was ever about working harder. The force was already there.

The real question was where it was pointing.

And for the first time in a while, I feel like I’ve chosen the direction instead of simply reacting to it.