Todd Henry's Blog

Ever wondered if you could be running full speed in the wrong direction—and still win a trophy for it?

On this week’s ​episode of Daily Creative​, I shared five questions that I think we all should be asking right now. These questions aren’t just for “leaders” with the job title; they’re for all of us wrestling with creative drift, technological change, and the weird, almost-numb tension in the air.

Here are five ideas from the episode:

1. You can succeed your way into failure. It’s dangerously easy to crush your goals, win awards, and impress everyone while slowly drifting away from what genuinely matters. Many leaders and teams find themselves ticking all the right boxes only to realize they’re solving the wrong problems—or working toward metrics rather than meaning. The challenge is to keep asking: What are you really optimizing for right now? Are you serving your mission, or merely impressing others? The consequences show up quietly: a thriving machine, heading in the wrong direction.

When was the last time you checked if your metrics actually align with your intended purpose?

2. Leadership is an echo chamber unless you intentionally break it. Every level of responsibility creates distance, and unless you make space for honesty, you’ll hear more of what people think you want to hear than what you need to know. Feedback, even when wrong, is valid because it surfaces someone’s perspective—and ignoring it breeds silent compliance, not real alignment. If you punish truth-telling, you’ll lose the feedback you most need. You have to invite—and reward—the mirrors in your life, and ensure others feel safe to disagree.

Who is telling you what you least want to hear, and have you really invited them to do so?

3. The fear of looking foolish kills more ideas than lack of talent ever could. Breakthroughs die quietly—not because the ideas are bad, but because we’re afraid to risk our reputation or invite criticism. The workplace says it wants innovation, but often recoils from what’s truly new. Courage isn’t lack of fear; it’s showing up when your ego’s on the line—and surrounding yourself with trusted people who listen, challenge, and encourage. Before you bring your “wild” idea into the open, find the safe group who can help you test it.

What big, slightly absurd idea have you held back, and who could you share it with this week?

4. If you build around your ego, excellence becomes a convenient disguise. Ego sneaks in behind good intentions, pushing you to defend your comfort and seek applause over real impact. The toughest test for any leader: Would you still pursue this work if no one saw it? If your motivation is external validation, you may have accidentally constructed a system built for your image—not your mission. The best leaders make echoes in others, empowering their team to do great work rather than centering everything on themselves.

If recognition vanished, would you still do what you’re doing now?

5. Stability is a launchpad, not a comfort zone. Your team needs just enough certainty to take smart risks, experiment, and stretch—not settle into routine or wait for protection. There’s a fine line between offering stability and smothering with safety; ‘stability’ means clear boundaries for bold efforts, while ‘safety’ too often means “don’t move.” Great teams are built where challenge and security are balanced—where people are held, but also nudged to venture out.

Are you keeping your team “small” in the name of safety, or giving them the foundation to brave real challenges?

As you reflect this week, let these questions be your buoys—gentle signals when you’re off course, not rigid rules or shame-inducers.

Leadership is less about knowing answers and more about making space for the right questions. To borrow from the poet Kahlil Gibran, “The lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul and then walks grinning in the funeral.”

In the 1990s, evolutionary biologist William Muir ran an experiment with egg-laying hens. He bred the most productive chickens together, the “super chickens”, expecting a new generation of record-breakers. Initially they did, but eventually they pecked each other to death out of competition. Only a few survived.

Meanwhile, a control group of average chickens, who had no choice but to cooperate, produced far more eggs.

When we reward only the loudest or most competitive people, we are likely doing more harm than good. Real performance isn’t about finding superstars, it’s about building super teams.

That’s what this week’s Daily Creative podcast conversation with behavioral scientist Jon Levy and his new book Team Intelligence is all about: how brilliant leaders unlock collective genius instead of chasing individual glory. We dove into how high-performing teams actually work, the surprising role of emotional intelligence, and why being the “glue” might get you further than being the “star.” If you’ve ever wondered why your all-star cast just isn’t clicking, or how to foster trust in a world obsessed with individual achievement, this episode offers a new lens.

Here are five truths we explored, plus a question to challenge your own instincts:

1. Rewarding only the flashiest players breeds competition, not collaboration.

The tale of William Muir’s “super chickens” teaches us that when you pit top performers against each other, you get plenty of fighting but not much productivity. It’s a neat metaphor for what happens in organizations focused on individual achievement: people start jockeying for attention and keeping each other down, rather than contributing to a shared goal. The data doesn’t lie. The teams that actually produce more “eggs” are usually those full of regular folks who learn to cooperate, communicate, and support each other.

Who in your team might be flying under the radar, and how can you create space for their contribution?

2. Leadership shouldn’t be fixed, it should flow.

Jon Levy’s research upends the classic “hero leader” story. True team intelligence emerges when leadership is fluid, shifting to whoever holds the relevant expertise at any given moment. Forget about the myth of leaders who have all the answers; the most effective teams let leadership rotate as needed, based on who’s best-equipped for each challenge, not rank or title. It’s about letting people step up (and back) organically, trusting in the knowledge and strengths around the table.

When was the last time you let someone else direct the conversation or step into leadership, and what happened?

3. Emotional intelligence multiplies team effectiveness far beyond raw talent.

Surprisingly, neither the highest IQ nor the tightest social bonds predict whether a team will thrive. Research shows that emotional intelligence. Understanding when to push or pass, who needs encouragement, and how everyone fits together is the key. Often, teams with more women outperformed simply because women tend to index higher for emotional intelligence, not because of gender itself. The glue here is the ability to be aware, to sense the team’s mood, and act accordingly.

How can you make your team a safer place for ideas, vulnerability, and risk?

4. Incentives matter, but misaligned rewards undermine collaboration.

The way organizations structure rewards can quietly sabotage teamwork. If only the top 10% get bonuses, guess what? You’re incentivizing people to subtly (or not-so-subtly) keep others down. Even in basketball, the most effective coaches aren’t those who churn out higher scorers—they’re the ones who increase passing and selflessness on the court. Extraordinary things happen when you set up rewards that encourage everyone to win together, rather than alone.

Are your incentives aligned with what you actually want?

5. Every team needs ‘glue players’—the invisible force that amplifies everyone’s output.

Perhaps the most overlooked ingredient: the “glue” players. These aren’t your top scorers; they’re the ones with high emotional intelligence, forward-thinking, and self-sacrifice, quietly multiplying the effectiveness of the whole team. Like Shane Battier in the NBA, their presence boosts everyone’s performance, even if their personal stats don’t shine. The lesson? Sometimes, being the person who sets others up for success is the most valuable role of all.

How can you be the glue player this week?

Creativity doesn’t thrive in isolation. It grows in the space between us.

This week, try focusing less on outshining and more on amplifying. Where could you step back, offer a quiet nudge, or help others feel safe sharing a half-formed idea? Your impact might just extend far beyond your own output.

That’s leadership, regardless of your role.

Ever notice how the pursuit of peak performance sometimes feels like training for a marathon while wearing a heart-rate monitor, yet never actually feeling alive?

On this week’s episode of ​Daily Creative​, I sat down with Dr. James Hewitt, human performance scientist and author of Regenerative Performance, and Jim Murphy, coach and author of the surprise bestseller Inner Excellence. Together, we explored why relentless optimization leaves us empty, and how the real path to creative excellence starts, paradoxically, by doing less—more thoughtfully. We went deep into topics like rhythm versus balance, the dangers of hyper-optimization, and how psychological renewal and heart training lead to lasting impact, not just fleeting metrics.

1. High performance isn’t built—it’s grown. No matter how much you quantify, hack, or optimize your habits, the deepest forms of excellence are cultivated over time, like a garden, not assembled like a machine. Both James and Jim reminded us that sustainable growth doesn’t result from push-push-pushing harder, but from observing your own unique natural rhythms. When you feel burned out or stuck, it’s rarely a sign to optimize more—it’s a signal to slow down and reconnect with what you love doing.

Where might you need to slow down in order to ultimately go faster?

2. Rhythm beats balance every time. James proposes ditching the myth of perfect balance, and instead embracing “rhythmic alternation”: deliberate cycles of intense effort, followed by intentional recovery. Most of us get stuck in the churn of middle gear—emails, meetings, distractions—without truly focused work or actual rest. The key is to proactively schedule breaks that restore you: think natural light, quick walks, brief chats, a few minutes just staring out the window.

When was the last time you deliberately planned a recovery period as part of your workday?

3. Optimization obsession backfires. The more we chase perfect data, sleep scores, or productivity hacks (hello, orthosomnia), the less life satisfaction we report. Hyper-optimization—trying to improve every metric at once—can leave us more anxious, disconnected, and weary than before. Performance dashboards don’t drive fulfillment; renewal does. So, it’s time to ask whether your next “hack” is moving you closer to the results that actually matter.

What optimization ritual could you actually pause, replace, or drop this week?

4. The greatest competitive edge is training your heart, not just your mind. Jim Murphy spent years in solitude discovering: the real game is about mastering your ego, self-centeredness, and the noisy “monkey mind.” True inner excellence means clarifying your values and training your heart to love what’s most empowering—even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s about becoming interruptible and compassionate, rather than hurried.

How might you reduce the “noise” – cognitive and emotional – you experience each day?

5. Vulnerability and suffering are prerequisites for meaningful creative work. Let’s be honest—being creative requires risk. Vulnerability isn’t optional; it’s the path. Both research and experience show that we reach our potential only by stepping into discomfort, risking failure, and accepting the possibility of rejection. As Jim puts it, the law of growth means clinging to comfort will shrink your life, but giving it up can expand it.

When have you most recently risked looking foolish for the sake of your work, and what did you learn?

It’s easy to fall for the myth that more metrics and optimization will deliver better results. But as James shared, “Performance isn’t about doing more. It’s about learning when to let go.”

And as Jim reminds us, “You can’t be in a hurry and be compassionate.”

What if “luck” isn’t luck at all, but a reward for knowing how to play the game behind the curtain?

On Daily Creative, I sat down with Wharton School economist Judd Kessler to unmask the secret mechanics of luck—and how you can engineer more of it in your creative life. Building from the bizarre genius of Gary Dahl’s Pet Rock phenomenon to the intricate design of modern “hidden markets,” we dove deep into Judd’s new book, Lucky by Design, exploring how opportunity is governed by invisible rules that can be decoded and navigated if you know what to look for. Whether you’re a leader, artist, or innovator, this conversation reveals how prep, perception, and positioning might just turn you into one of those “lucky” people everyone talks about.

Luck favors the well-prepared, not the idle dreamer.

Despite what we love to imagine, luck rarely rewards those sitting on the sidelines. Gary Dahl, often pegged as impossibly lucky for his Pet Rock empire, actually spent years observing consumers, tracking trends, and sharpening his skills—so when the right idea struck, he was ready to seize it with both hands. In any creative career, it’s easy to wait for a “big break,” but it’s the quiet work behind the scenes that attracts opportunity.

When was the last time you honestly prepared for a moment that others chalked up to coincidence?

Hidden markets run on invisible but learnable rules.

Judd Kessler introduced us to the concept of “hidden markets”—systems that allocate opportunities not simply by price, but by rules like speed, lotteries, or reputation. These rules might not be advertised, but they shape who gets tickets to the hot concert, the competitive job, or that coveted client. The truly “lucky” are those who study these systems, figure out how they work, and adjust their strategy to fit.

Which markets in your life seem random, and what unspoken rules might actually be guiding them?

Efficiency, equity, and ease are the currencies of opportunity.

The “three E’s”—efficiency (creating value), equity (being fair and reliable), and ease (removing friction)—are what make you the obvious choice when opportunity knocks. In practice: deliver consistently, treat people like allies not obstacles, and proactively smooth the way for collaboration. It’s not about being a pushover—it’s about being the professional others want to work with time after time.

How could you make yourself the easiest collaborator in your field without sacrificing your standards?

Speed (and the right signal) beats the aura of “untouchability.”

In a world where everyone claims to be the best, a fast, genuine response can set you apart more than a polished halo. As I shared on the podcast, event planners pick the reliable, responsive choice over the high-maintenance diva. These days, speed signals commitment and reduces risk—a crucial factor when trust is on the line.
Are you easy to say “yes” to, or are you unintentionally raising hurdles for your partners and clients?

Technology changes the playing field—but not the need for real, human signals.

As AI makes polished cover letters and speedy responses indistinguishable from automated bots, traditional signals of motivation and fit lose power. The edge now comes from relationships, trusted recommendations, and visible investment in the work itself. That means you’ll need to let your reputation, network, and proven track record do some of the signaling AI can’t fake.

What could you do this week to strengthen your real-world connections, not just your digital presence?

If you take nothing else from this conversation, remember: luck doesn’t strike at random—it knocks on doors that are already open. I’ll leave you with this: “Luck isn’t found, it’s built. It’s engineered through discipline, relationships, and awareness.” So as you move through your week, ask yourself—what am I building that luck could recognize, and am I showing up prepared when it does? The quiet, disciplined preparation you do behind the scenes just might build the luck everyone else will call mysterious.

Keep your eyes open—opportunity loves an attentive audience.

 

How many crises in life and work could be averted if we just paused for one extra sentence?

On the latest episode of Daily Creative, I sat down with Pulitzer Prize winner Charles Duhigg, author of Supercommunicators, to dig into both the science—and the practical reality—of why communication so often fails, and what actually creates genuine connection. Together, we unpacked the hidden costs of miscommunication (including a chilling hospital story), the three conversation types we get tangled up in, and game-changing tactics to move from talking at people to understanding and aligning with them. Whether you’re managing teams, trying to understand a stubborn family member, or just trying not to set off another email misunderstanding at work, this conversation offers tools you’re probably not using…but should be.

Here are five truths from the episode that are worth pinning up in your mental workspace:

1. Communication isn’t what you say; it’s what the other person actually hears.
We love to assume that, because something left our keyboard or our mouth, it’s been received as intended. The unfortunate reality? Meaning only happens when what you meant and what they heard overlap. This explains why checklists in medicine or aviation rely on “closed-loop” confirmation—not because people aren’t smart, but because assumptions are silent saboteurs. That one extra sentence, the simple double-check, can avoid a world of pain—not just in hospitals, but in any human interaction.

Where are you assuming agreement in your daily conversations instead of confirming understanding?

2. There are three types of conversations—and mismatched types guarantee misunderstanding.
Every discussion you enter is actually several conversations layered on top of one another: practical (solving problems); emotional (expressing or processing feelings); and social (negotiating roles or status). If you’re stuck debating next year’s vacation, pause: are you fixing logistics, expressing anxiety, or negotiating family politics? If you talk facts when someone else is swimming in feelings, neither of you is heard. Supercommunicators spot this early, then match (or guide) the conversation type.

Next time there’s tension, can you spot which conversation type you’re having versus the one they’re having?

3. Understanding should precede persuading—or disagreeing.
We often leap into “convince and conquer” mode, but as Charles explained, echoing someone’s stance before you offer your own actually makes them more receptive. It’s not about surrendering your view—it’s about social reciprocity and reducing defensiveness, creating a climate where disagreement doesn’t destroy connection. Whether you’re mediating a workplace disagreement or talking to your opinionated uncle, loop for understanding first and only then pivot to your point of view.

When was the last time you made sure someone felt truly heard before sharing your own opinion?

4. Deep questions unlock deeper relationships.
Superficial questions keep conversations small. But when you ask someone, “What made you decide to do what you do?” (rather than “Where do you work?”), you invite authenticity. The beauty: deep questions aren’t just for therapy sessions; they reveal stories and motivations, and naturally invite mutual sharing. Not everyone will dig deep every time, but just by asking, you set the tone for a more meaningful connection.

What’s one deep question you could ask a colleague or friend this week?

5. Non-linguistic and digital cues require intentional attention.
We pick up on defensive postures, tone shifts, and even emotional content in a text or email, whether consciously or not. But digital spaces are uniquely prone to misfires (sarcasm is practically radioactive in an email), and genuine warmth travels further than we think—just by being a little more explicit and especially polite. Reviewing what you wrote and considering how it will land can save hours of cleanup and rebuild trust along the way.

What’s a small tweak you could make in your next written message to ensure clarity and care?

No matter your role, every breakthrough tends to be on the far side of a better conversation.

As Charles Duhigg reminds us: the goal isn’t to “win”—it’s to build enough understanding that disagreement can feel productive, not personal.

This week, try asking one deep question. And pick up the phone to reconnect with someone on the fringes of your network—you might be one overlooked conversation away from realignment.

How many crises in life and work could be averted if we just paused for one extra sentence?

On the latest episode of Daily Creative, I sat down with Pulitzer Prize winner Charles Duhigg, author of Supercommunicators, to dig into both the science—and the practical reality—of why communication so often fails, and what actually creates genuine connection. Together, we unpacked the hidden costs of miscommunication (including a chilling hospital story), the three conversation types we get tangled up in, and game-changing tactics to move from talking at people to understanding and aligning with them. Whether you’re managing teams, trying to understand a stubborn family member, or just trying not to set off another email misunderstanding at work, this conversation offers tools you’re probably not using…but should be.

Here are five truths from the episode that are worth pinning up in your mental workspace:

1. Communication isn’t what you say; it’s what the other person actually hears.
We love to assume that, because something left our keyboard or our mouth, it’s been received as intended. The unfortunate reality? Meaning only happens when what you meant and what they heard overlap. This explains why checklists in medicine or aviation rely on “closed-loop” confirmation—not because people aren’t smart, but because assumptions are silent saboteurs. That one extra sentence, the simple double-check, can avoid a world of pain—not just in hospitals, but in any human interaction.

Where are you assuming agreement in your daily conversations instead of confirming understanding?

2. There are three types of conversations—and mismatched types guarantee misunderstanding.
Every discussion you enter is actually several conversations layered on top of one another: practical (solving problems); emotional (expressing or processing feelings); and social (negotiating roles or status). If you’re stuck debating next year’s vacation, pause: are you fixing logistics, expressing anxiety, or negotiating family politics? If you talk facts when someone else is swimming in feelings, neither of you is heard. Supercommunicators spot this early, then match (or guide) the conversation type.

Next time there’s tension, can you spot which conversation type you’re having versus the one they’re having?

3. Understanding should precede persuading—or disagreeing.
We often leap into “convince and conquer” mode, but as Charles explained, echoing someone’s stance before you offer your own actually makes them more receptive. It’s not about surrendering your view—it’s about social reciprocity and reducing defensiveness, creating a climate where disagreement doesn’t destroy connection. Whether you’re mediating a workplace disagreement or talking to your opinionated uncle, loop for understanding first and only then pivot to your point of view.

When was the last time you made sure someone felt truly heard before sharing your own opinion?

4. Deep questions unlock deeper relationships.
Superficial questions keep conversations small. But when you ask someone, “What made you decide to do what you do?” (rather than “Where do you work?”), you invite authenticity. The beauty: deep questions aren’t just for therapy sessions; they reveal stories and motivations, and naturally invite mutual sharing. Not everyone will dig deep every time, but just by asking, you set the tone for a more meaningful connection.

What’s one deep question you could ask a colleague or friend this week?

5. Non-linguistic and digital cues require intentional attention.
We pick up on defensive postures, tone shifts, and even emotional content in a text or email, whether consciously or not. But digital spaces are uniquely prone to misfires (sarcasm is practically radioactive in an email), and genuine warmth travels further than we think—just by being a little more explicit and especially polite. Reviewing what you wrote and considering how it will land can save hours of cleanup and rebuild trust along the way.

What’s a small tweak you could make in your next written message to ensure clarity and care?

No matter your role, every breakthrough tends to be on the far side of a better conversation.

As Charles Duhigg reminds us: the goal isn’t to “win”—it’s to build enough understanding that disagreement can feel productive, not personal.

This week, try asking one deep question. And pick up the phone to reconnect with someone on the fringes of your network—you might be one overlooked conversation away from realignment.

Ever feel like you’re on a merry-go-round that’s accelerating, but you can’t get off?

In the latest episode of Daily Creative, I sat down with innovation expert Scott Anthony to explore the patterns, perils, and playfulness of navigating epic disruptions—those seismic shifts that upend industries and rewrite the rules of success. Drawing on stories from the past and insights from Scott’s new book, Epic Disruptions, we explored how to develop a sharper lens for distinguishing fleeting fads from genuine, market-shaking transformations and equipping ourselves to ride the next big wave rather than get wiped out by it.

Here are a few principles from our conversation:

1. Disruption rewards those who balance imagination with discipline, not just the first-movers or status-quo keepers.​
Chasing every shiny object or clinging to what’s always worked are equally risky moves in times of rapid change. The sweet spot? Leadership teams who boldly experiment, adapt quickly, and stay disciplined about what actually delivers value. Breakthrough business models rarely look impressive or important at first, but those who blend creative risk with smart process put themselves in position to win as the landscape shifts.
​
​Question: Where in your current projects are you too cautious—or too reckless—when you should be running smart experiments?

2. Listening only to your best customers can steer you straight into irrelevance.​
​The Innovator’s Dilemma, as uncovered by Clay Christensen, shows us that great firms often fail not because they’re lazy, but precisely because they are doing everything “right”—serving their most valuable customers. But these customers rarely see the coming shift, and clinging to their feedback can blind you to fringe innovations that will eat your lunch. The rise (and fall) of BlackBerry is a powerful example here.
​
​Question: Who are you listening to right now that might actually be encouraging you to preserve what’s about to become obsolete?

3. Disruption always casts a shadow, sometimes leaving chaos before progress arrives.​
Major change doesn’t shower only winners with confetti; there are real losers, messy transitions, and fierce turf wars over what’s safe or fair. In our conversation, we compared the rise of the automobile to today’s AI battles—both created confusion, collateral damage, and the need for new norms before finding their place. Anticipating and actively working through this “disruption shadow” is essential for responsible leadership.
​
​Question: What shadow is falling over your team or industry right now, and are you brave enough to wrestle with its uncomfortable realities?

4. The future is at the edges, not in the mainstream—look to outliers and the overlooked.​
Game-changing innovations usually start out serving overlooked or underserved groups—the hearing aid market before transistors went mainstream, or AI being hacked together by everyday users for off-label solutions. The lesson: the “weirdos,” the ignored, the market’s marginalized are often the earliest signals of what’s next. Leaders who proactively listen and learn from the edges gain a preview of tomorrow’s center.
​
​Question: Which fringe behaviors, hacks, or communities are you genuinely curious about (but perhaps haven’t engaged with) in your ecosystem?

5. Innovation is always collective, never a solo act, no matter how seductive the lone genius myth may be.​
Every disruptive story has heroes—plural—not just a single visionary. While history books like their protagonists, Scott urges that breakthroughs happen when networks of talent share, tinker, hand off, and build together (often across years or even decades). If you want more innovation within your team, make it less about individual genius and more about fostering the messy collective magic.
​
​Question: What’s one habit (personal or organizational) you could tweak to encourage more “productive messing around” and cross-pollination of wild ideas?

No one expects you to decode disruption alone.

As William Gibson reminds us, “The future is already here—it’s just not very evenly distributed.”

Spend time this week seeking out those future pockets: play with a new tool, talk to someone younger or farther from the center, and create a little space not just for work, but for collective play. You just might find the next epic disruption before everyone else does.

Does it ever feel like you’re stuck in a never-ending loop of déjà vu, where everything you see, hear, or scroll past feels suspiciously familiar?

In the latest episode of Daily Creative, I sat down with Andrew Robertson, chairman of BBDO and author of The Creative Shift, to dig into why companies settle for less creativity than they’re capable of. Andrew, bringing insight from decades at the intersection of creativity and operational excellence, shares how leaders can practically make space for genuine innovation—even inside the most efficient, process-driven organizations.

Here are five key takeaways—each worth chewing on:

1. Rediscover the edges—avoid the creative center.​
When everything around you starts to feel numbingly similar, you’re probably just circling in the center of your domain. True creative energy often happens at the edges, where different fields collide and new perspectives break through the monotony. Read outside your field, chat with someone from a completely different profession, or dip your toe into new domains. It’s these collisions that shake you back to attention and recharge your creative lens.
​
​Where are you still playing it safe, and what’s one “edge” you could intentionally explore this week?

2. Attentional minimalism beats digital overload.​
Our brains are burning out on multitasking, constant notifications, and input overload. Attentional minimalism may be your solution—a deliberate reduction of stimulus, through practices like device-free walks, journaling, or input boundaries. The aim is not just less noise, but more capacity to spot the extraordinary amidst the ordinary. The simplest changes (like actually paying attention during a walk) can create the kind of mental whitespace where new ideas land.
​
​Where can you deliberately cut back on noise and practice noticing rather than just consuming?

3. Creative energy comes from making, not consuming.​
It’s easy to fall into the trap of endless passive consumption—but progress, motivation, and excitement are born from “productive passion”—making things that matter to you. Teresa Amabile has revealed the value of intrinsic motivation and the power of creative output over input. Every time you choose to make instead of just consume, you feed your own creative fire, turning the routine into something meaningful.
​
​What’s one thing you could make this week (and who might it be for?) instead of just another scroll or binge?

4. Operational excellence and creativity aren’t opposites—they’re in tension.​
Andrew acknowledges the dynamic (sometimes uncomfortable) tension between efficiency and creativity. While efficient processes are powerful, they can stifle creative thinking unless leaders make explicit space for it. The magic isn’t in ditching structure, but in operationalizing creativity with the same seriousness as any other business goal—like Delta Airlines did by intentionally pursuing surprising insights about their customer journey.
​
​Do you allow genuinely new ideas to surface in your workflow, or does your process just produce more of the same?

5. Great ideas don’t come from certainty—they come from managed risk.​
We all crave certainty, but chasing it leads to average outcomes. Andrew recounts a banker’s wisdom: quantify the downside risk, then ask if you can live with it. If yes, go for the bold idea. If not, adapt until you can. Waiting for guarantees crushes innovation; instead, manage the risk intelligently and stay open to ideas that make you (and others) a little uncomfortable.
​
​What’s one idea you’ve been sitting on because you want a guarantee—could you get comfortable with its risks instead?

As Andrew puts it: “The definition of a great insight is something that is blindingly obvious the minute you see it, but nobody had seen it before.” This week, let yourself wander to the edges, prune away the extra noise, and dare to create something without waiting for a permission slip. It’s these little shifts that add up to a week—and a career—where you feel more alive, more focused, and a little less vaguely familiar.

What if the key to lasting creative success isn’t in how fast you go, but how well you rest?

This week on the Daily Creative podcast, I discussed with Chris Ducker what it really means to be a “Long Haul Leader.”

Here are a few key learnings:

1. “Hustle can be a season, but it shouldn’t be a lifestyle.”​
There’s a dangerous myth that relentless hustle is the only route to accomplishment. Periods of intense effort are necessary, but living life in sprint mode is unsustainable. Burnout, lost passion, and diminished creativity follow when adrenaline becomes your default setting. Instead, leaders should embrace the ebb and flow—diving into sprints when needed, but then intentionally recovering, recalibrating, and building habits that allow stamina for the long game.
​
​Where are you letting perpetual hustle masquerade as progress, instead of carving out intentional rest?

2. “Burnout is not a badge of honor.”​
Chris’s personal account of pandemic-era burnout dismantles the narrative that being perpetually drained is just “what work feels like.” Napping through daylight, feeling perpetually foggy, and an unshakeable emptiness aren’t signs of commitment—they’re alarm bells. Admitting vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s wisdom. Leaders owe it to themselves and those they serve to identify early warning signs and take real action, before crisis forces change.
​
​When was the last time you honestly assessed your own warning signals—before waiting for a breaking point?

3. “Build your own Life Operating System (Life OS).”​
Operating systems aren’t just for computers. Chris introduces the idea of a personal “Life OS” made up of micro-habits—health routines, real relationships, meaningful learning, and space for hobbies—that build resilience over time. Small shifts in each area compound, sustaining creativity and leadership far beyond quick fixes. The magic lies not in grand life overhauls, but in tiny, consistent moves that keep you working and living at your best.
​
​What’s one micro-move you could make this week to strengthen your Life OS?

4. “Know your who, not just your what.”​
Sustainable work isn’t about churning out more output; it’s about knowing who you’re serving. For Chris, focusing on the people he impacts—clients, mentees, and his inner circle—provides meaning and direction that refuels his leadership. Rather than getting lost in endless tasks, leaders benefit from regularly re-centering on the “who”—the actual humans whose lives are changed by their work.
​
​Who are the people you’re uniquely positioned to serve, and how are you intentionally investing in them?

5. “Small signals matter more than big crises.”​
Breakdowns—medical scares, emotional collapse—are clarifying, but waiting for a crisis is optional. Todd emphasizes that it’s often the quiet cues—fatigue, disengagement, or subtle discontent—that should prompt us to adjust. Catching these early means the difference between a manageable reset and a forced overhaul. Pay attention to what your body, mind, and work are telling you—don’t wait for everything to fall apart to make a change.
​
​What subtle sign have you been ignoring, and what’s one action you could take in response this week?

Take this to heart: “You are not a machine.”

This week, look for ways to intentionally restore rather than just endure, remembering that long-haul leaders aren’t those who burn the brightest for a moment, but those who keep showing up—wise, resilient, and ready to do work that truly matters.

Not long ago, I found myself in conversation with someone who was having “a moment.”

You know the kind I mean—the big splash, the sudden surge of attention, the cultural spotlight shining brightly. They had just experienced a breakthrough that put them on the map, and everyone wanted to be near them.

And yet, as I listened and watched, I couldn’t shake the sense that this success was overwhelming them. Their calendar was packed. Their mind was scattered. Their energy felt frantic, like someone trying to catch water in their hands while more kept pouring in. The attention was exciting, but beneath the surface I could see a lack of practices, rhythms, and grounding that would be necessary to sustain this newfound success.

I’ve seen this pattern before. Someone rides the wave of a cultural moment, gets swept up in the applause, but when the attention fades—as it always does—they don’t have the stability to continue. They were a “moment,” not a mountain.

Later, I met someone else. They weren’t flashy. They weren’t trending on social media or headlining events. In fact, you might not even know their name. But for twenty-five years, they’ve been doing steady, focused, meaningful work. Day after day. Year after year. Their impact isn’t measured in trending hashtags but in the lives they’ve touched, the work they’ve built, and the reputation they’ve cultivated over decades.

This person wasn’t a moment. They were a mountain.

The Allure of the Moment

We live in a culture obsessed with moments. We chase them, celebrate them, and sometimes even worship them. Viral fame, sudden recognition, a big stage, the right mention from the right person—it feels like lightning in a bottle. And for a time, it is.

But the problem with moments is that they are, by definition, temporary. They spike, and then they fade. And if our identity, work, or sense of meaning is tied only to the moment, then when it’s gone, so are we.

Moments aren’t inherently bad. They can be important catalysts. They can launch movements, create opportunities, or shine a light on something valuable. But a moment is not a strategy. A moment cannot sustain a life’s work.

Lessons From the Music Business

When I was a singer-songwriter, I saw this truth play out constantly. Someone would land a big hit—one song that captured the moment, caught the radio wave, and launched them into sudden visibility. For a brief period, it was intoxicating. They were everywhere.

But often, instead of getting back into the writing room, sharpening their skills, and continuing to do the unglamorous work of creating, they tried to coast on that one success. They toured the hit. They lived off the applause. They chased the same formula again and again, rather than deepening their craft. And inevitably, the wind shifted. Their moment faded.

Meanwhile, other artists—sometimes with fewer hits or less mainstream recognition—were quietly building. They kept writing. They kept creating. They played the small clubs. They experimented, explored, and evolved. Over time, they developed not just a catalog but a loyal following. Their careers didn’t burn as brightly in a single instant, but they endured. They became mountains.

This is why I often say: cover bands don’t change the world. A cover band might get a big reaction in the moment. They might even fill a venue for a night. But they’re not building something that lasts. Original voices—those who commit to the ongoing work of creating—are the ones who make a dent in the universe.

The Endurance of the Mountain

Mountains, on the other hand, are not built overnight. They rise slowly, over time, through consistent, unseen forces. A mountain isn’t concerned with attention or applause. Its strength comes from its foundation.

The “mountains” I’ve known—the people whose work endures—are rarely the loudest or flashiest. They are the ones who keep showing up, doing the work, and making progress even when no one is watching. They prioritize rhythms over rush, practices over pressure, depth over display.

And here’s something important: mountains do have moments. A great book release. A breakthrough project. A song that unexpectedly connects. But those moments don’t define them. They’re byproducts, not the foundation. The mountain remains long after the moment has passed.

Their success might not always make headlines, but it compounds over time. They build trust. They create things that last. And while others come and go with the tides of culture, they remain, steady and strong.

How to Become a Mountain

So how do you ensure your life and work are more like a mountain than a fleeting moment?

Build practices, not just projects. Projects end. Practices endure. Ask yourself: What daily, weekly, or yearly rhythms anchor my work? What habits strengthen me even when no one sees?Value depth over visibility. The number of people who notice you isn’t as important as the depth of the impact you have. Moments thrive on visibility, but mountains are built on substance.Think in decades, not days. A moment feels urgent. A mountain requires patience. Ask yourself: What will I be proud to have built twenty years from now? Let that vision guide today’s actions.Stay grounded in purpose. If you chase applause, you’ll always be enslaved to it. If you work from purpose, you’ll remain steady regardless of the noise around you.The Choice Before Us

Every day, we have a choice. We can orient our work around moments—chasing the thrill of attention, grasping for quick wins—or we can build like mountains, steady and unshakable.

The truth is, we all need moments now and then. They energize us, draw new opportunities, and give us confidence. But the real measure of a life well lived is whether those moments rest on the foundation of something deeper, something enduring.

When the spotlight moves on, what will remain of your work? Will it crumble, or will it still stand?

Because in the end, the world doesn’t need more moments.

The world needs more mountains.