Finding Hope, Gratitude, and Legacy After Loss

When I chose my three words for 2026, Steady, Rooted, & Legacy, I knew I was navigating a new season. At the time, I could already feel the weight I was carrying. My mom had passed away in September 2025, and with her passing came a season of grief that reshaped my sense of normal. It invited me to consider what it meant to stay steady and rooted when life was changing in ways I didn’t expect.

I thought that was the storm. I didn't know it was just the beginning of a longer winter.

In March 2026, six months to the day after my mom passed, we called in hospice for my dad, and the next day he went to be with her.

To lose both parents in a span of six months is a disorienting, breathtaking kind of grief. It's hard to describe unless you’ve lived it. There are still waves of sadness. That part is real and honest and ongoing. But sitting here now, watching summer rain move across everything outside my window, water settling into the ground, plants still doing what plants do, I also feel something I didn’t expect to feel so soon. I feel a profound, quiet sense of gratitude and peace.

For the last six months of my father’s life, I had the incredible privilege of being his caretaker, and for that I am deeply grateful. Peace comes from knowing that he is where he wants to be, and that is back with his bride of 59 years, and they are both whole and healthy. 

There's an emotional toll and heavy reality of watching someone you love fade. But there is also something deeply holy in it. It allowed me to slow down and match his pace. It gave us hours of quiet conversations, shared memories, and a beautiful, unhurried closure that is rare in this fast-paced world. In taking care of him, I wasn't just giving; I was receiving.  I was learning, in the most stripped-down way, what actually matters when everything nonessential falls away.

It turns out that my words for the year weren't just a compass for the future, they were a preparation for my current reality. 

Steady: Showing up day after day for my dad taught me the true meaning of consistency over intensity. It wasn’t about productivity or momentum, but it was about presence and quiet faithfulness. It was a steady calm, even when my heart was aching.

Rooted: Losing both parents stretches your roots to their absolute limit. But I have found that the foundation they built in me with faith, love, resilience, and values is unshakable. I am bending, but I am not breaking.

Legacy: As I look at the space they left behind, I am reminded that legacy isn't about titles or achievements. It’s etched into the hearts of the people we leave behind. I see their legacy in my daughters, me and my two sisters, and in my two grandsons, one of whom was born last week.  Life keeps moving, carrying pieces of them forward in ways that feel both ordinary and sacred.

"Grief is just love with no place to go."

-Jamie Anderson

Grief is not a problem to be solved; it is a love that has nowhere to go. But there is hope here, too. There is immense beauty in the bittersweet, and there is deep gratitude for the time and the honor of walking both of my parents all the way home.

There is a steadiness I’m learning to live with now, one that holds both loss and love at the same time, without needing to rush either. Thank you for walking alongside me in this space and for allowing me to share the beautiful, bittersweet reality of the journey.

The 80–20 Rule for Leaders Who Want to Build Culture, Not Just Stay Busy

I first wrote a version of this post in 2019. Since then, my leadership roles have shifted, seasons have changed, and life has stretched me in new ways. But the heart of this message - the need to focus on what truly matters - has remained constant. I’m revisiting it now because the lesson still feels just as relevant.

Over the years, one theme has shown up again and again in conversations with readers, school leaders, and the educators and leaders I mentor through my work and partnerships:

I want to be more effective without being exhausted.

That desire has only intensified in the last few years.

The past four years of my own leadership journey - retiring and coaching schools through the Hope Institute, to stepping back into the principalship, navigating heavy family transitions, and now returning to leadership coaching with the Hope Institute - have fundamentally reshaped how I view productivity. I’m far less interested in doing more and far more focused on doing what actually moves our heart-work forward.

That’s where the Pareto Principle comes back into the conversation.

A Rule Worth Revisiting

That is exactly why I keep returning to the Pareto Principle, a concept many of us know simply as the 80-20 Rule. Originally noted by economist Vilfredo Pareto over a century ago when he realized 20% of his pea plants produced 80% of the harvest, this pattern shows up everywhere. Simply stated: 80% of results come from 20% of actions.

In graduate school, I first heard it framed through an educational lens: twenty percent of teachers account for eighty percent of discipline referrals. In leadership circles, we often hear that eighty percent of the work is carried by twenty percent of the team. Even in our quiet personal routines, it reveals itself: we wear the same few outfits, engage with the same handful of emails, and return to the same core habits.

The rule itself isn’t judgmental. It’s revealing.

Productivity Isn’t Neutral; It Shapes Culture

Over the years, the biggest shift I’ve made is realizing that productivity isn’t just about efficiency, it’s actually about our values. What we consistently give our time and attention to sends a powerful message to those around us. It shapes our school culture, signals our true priorities, and models what matters most. When I was leading a school day in and day out, it became clear very quickly that not every task deserved the same level of urgency or energy, and the exact same remains true today. So instead of constantly asking ourselves how we can get more done, the better question to hold close is: What deserves my best energy?

Applying the 80-20 Rule with Intention

Here are a few ways to use the Pareto Principle thoughtfully, without adding more to your plate.

1. Look at where your energy actually comes from. 

About 20% of your activities likely produce 80% of your sense of purpose and fulfillment. What drains you that could be reduced or released?

2. Reduce decision fatigue where you can. 

Whether it’s clothing, routines, or meetings... simplifying choices frees up mental energy for leadership decisions that matter.

3. Be ruthless with your inbox. 

You probably engage meaningfully with a small percentage of emails or newsletters. Unsubscribe from the rest. Curate what informs you.

4. Identify the work that truly moves the mission forward. 

Only a fraction of your daily tasks produce the results you actually want. Those are the ones tied to culture, people, and clarity - not just completion.

5. Stop confusing motion with progress. 

Busywork feels productive, but it rarely builds strong culture. Leaders don’t need to do everything; they need to do the right things.

A Simple Practice I’ve Kept

A beautiful, simple discipline I’ve tried to practice comes from Lynn Perkins, the CEO of UrbanSitter. Each morning, she writes down just three things that, if completed, would make the day feel successful. Not a full page, and not a list of ten, just three. It forces a gentle prioritization, reminding us that if everything feels incredibly important, then nothing truly is.

Leadership, Character, and the Long View

Sustainable leadership ultimately requires boundaries, absolute clarity, and alignment. The 80-20 Rule isn't about squeezing more out of yourself; it’s about honoring your values, your people, and your purpose.

As Tim Ferriss reminds us,

“If you want to have more, do more, and be more, it all begins with the voice that no one else hears.”

What that voice prioritizes will eventually shape your leadership and your culture.

As you move through your week, I'd love for you to sit with one honest question: What is the small percentage of your work that truly makes the biggest difference?

ICYMI: Previous Posts on Productivity & Leadership

• Increase your Productivity by Using Pockets of Time
• One Simple Habit to Improve Mood and Productivity
• What Successful People Do Daily to Increase Efficiency & Productivity

Pin now, Share later >>

What It Looks Like When Your Words Show Up in Real Life (A Reflection on Being Rooted)

There’s something quietly affirming when life starts echoing back what you’ve already named as true.

Since choosing my three words for 2026 - steady, rooted, and legacy - I’ve noticed how often they’ve surfaced. They've shown up gently, not loudly or dramatically, but almost insistently, as if they are tapping me on the shoulder to get my full attention. They've shown up in conversations. In reading. In moments of stillness I didn’t plan for. Each time, they’ve felt less like coincidences and more like gentle reminders that clarity often comes after we name what we need most.

I’ve learned over the years through my leadership journey that this is often how clarity shows up. Not all at once, and not with fireworks, but through repetition, alignment, and a growing sense of peace.

Most recently, I came across a post on Instagram by illustrator Bee Davies (@beedaviesillustration). It stopped me, not because it was flashy, but because it named something I’ve been feeling but hadn’t fully articulated yet. I found myself nodding along as I read her words. 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Bee Davies Illustration (@beedaviesillustration)

In her caption, Bee so eloquently wrote:

“But in nature, January is quiet on purpose. Life slows down. What we don’t see is the strength building underground - roots settling, foundations forming, preparing for spring. Without roots, there is no growth.”

That line, quiet on purpose, stayed with me.

So often, we treat January as a launching pad. A month meant for acceleration, urgency, and visible progress. We feel pressure to declare goals, prove momentum, and show evidence that we are moving forward. But nature tells a different story. One that values preparation over performance and depth over speed.

This is where rooted keeps showing up for me.

After a year marked by significant transition and loss, I’m learning that not every season is meant for outward growth. Some seasons are meant for anchoring. For settling into what remains true when roles change and circumstances shift. For allowing foundations to strengthen quietly, without an audience.

Being rooted doesn’t mean standing still. It means knowing what holds you steady when everything else feels uncertain.

That grounding makes steady possible.

Steady has become a reminder that meaningful progress doesn’t require urgency. It requires faithfulness. Showing up again today. Making small, consistent choices. Trusting that the work happening beneath the surface matters, even when there’s nothing visible to point to yet.

And when I hold steady and stay rooted, I’m reminded of the third word that continues to surface: legacy.

Legacy has reframed how I think about growth. It’s helped me zoom out and see that what I’m building now isn’t always meant to be immediately seen or measured. Some of the most important work we do shapes people, perspectives, and futures we may never fully witness.

Roots don’t announce themselves. But they determine everything that grows.

As I move into 2026, I’m less interested in rushing toward what’s next and more committed to honoring what’s forming. To trusting the quiet work. To believing that alignment doesn’t always feel exciting, but it does feel right.

And maybe that’s the invitation for all of us this January... to slow down on purpose, to let our roots settle, and to trust that growth will come... in time.

My Three Words for 2026: A New Season, a Clear Compass

For more than a decade now, choosing three words (or one word) for the year has been one of the most grounding practices in my life.

I don’t choose my words quickly. I don’t choose them because they sound good or because they feel aspirational in a surface-level way. I choose them through a process of reflection, prayer, listening, and honesty about what the past year revealed and what the next season is asking of me.

In the past, I thought my words needed to hype me up for the new year. What I’ve learned over time is that the right words don’t energize me as much as they center me. They bring clarity instead of urgency and direction instead of pressure.

The Process I Use

Before I ever write a word down, I ask myself a few quiet questions:

• What did this past year teach me about myself, my limits, and my values?
• Where did I feel stretched, and where did I feel most like myself?
• What do I need more of - not to achieve more, but to live well?
• What kind of person do I want to be this time next year?

I sit with those questions for days... sometimes weeks. I pay attention to patterns. I notice what keeps resurfacing in conversations and in prayer. Eventually, certain words don’t just appear; they stay.

As I looked ahead to 2026, three words remained long after the others faded:

Steady. Rooted. Legacy.

Each one carries a particular invitation. Today, I want to share what they mean to me and how they might serve as guiding words for you too.

STEADY: Peace in Motion

“Steady” has a calm strength to it, like a deep breath before a big moment. I think about this word in terms of consistency over intensity.

“Success is the result of perfection, hard work, learning from failure, loyalty, and persistence.”

- Colin Powell

This year has reminded me that healing (heart, body, spirit) doesn’t happen in bursts. Steady reminds me to show up - day in and day out - for the things that matter: my family, my health, my work, and my faith. It whispers, keep going, one step at a time. It’s a gentle but firm guide that says consistency wins the long game.

When I think about the work I care about - the people I get to serve through The Compelled Educator, the Communities of Character podcast, the Hope Institute, and the connections we share - being steady feels like a gift I can give others as well as myself.

ROOTED: Deep in What Matters Most

“Storms make trees take deeper roots.”

- Dolly Parton

There is a kind of grief we don’t always name - the grief that comes with leaving something you loved deeply, even when the decision was right.

In 2025, I experienced two significant losses. One was deeply personal. The other was professional, but no less meaningful. Stepping away from my role as principal was not just a career change; it was the surrender of a calling that had shaped me, stretched me, and allowed me to serve in ways that mattered deeply to me. It was a place where I felt useful, connected, and fully alive.

What made that loss complicated was this: I didn’t leave because I stopped loving the work. I left because love required something else of me.

Grief has a way of unsettling our sense of identity. When titles fall away and routines disappear, we’re forced to ask harder questions: Who am I without this role? Where do I belong now? What remains when what I loved is gone?

That’s where rooted began to matter more than ever.

Rooted reminds me that while roles can change, identity does not. That purpose is not limited to a position, and calling is not confined to a title. Being rooted means anchoring myself in values, faith, and relationships that remain steady even when circumstances shift. 

Rooted doesn’t promise comfort, but it offers stability. And in a season marked by loss, stability is a gift.

This word reminds me to draw strength from my foundations - family, friends, faith, curiosity, and purpose. It’s a reminder that when storms come (and they always do!), roots help us bend without breaking.

LEGACY: What Lasts Longer Than Me

Legacy isn’t just for big achievements or titles. It’s about the footprints we leave on our journey. From the way we influence a child, to how we show up for a friend, build something meaningful, or how we care for the people we love.

This word keeps me focused on what lasts longer than a single year or season. It strengthens me as I walk through the current season filled with doubt and grief, yet also hope. It shapes how I think about family, relationships, health, work, and character. I think about how the character we model today becomes the foundation for tomorrow. And I especially think about my daughters, my grandson, and the grandson that will be born in 2026. 

To me, legacy isn’t pressure, it’s perspective. It’s choosing what matters long after the day is done.

Legacy asks:

• What am I modeling for the people I love?
• What habits am I forming today that shape tomorrow?
• What will remain because I was here?

“Carve your name on hearts, not tombstones. A legacy is etched into the minds of others and the stories they share about you.”

- Shannon L. Alder

So… If I had to choose one word, which one would it be? 

In years past I’ve used three words, and sometimes just one feels right, too. This year, these three words represent different aspects of the journey I’m on. Steady for consistency and resilience, Rooted for depth and alignment, and Legacy for meaning and long-term impact.

If I had to choose just one, it might be the one that brings them together in a single heartbeat: Rooted. Because when we’re rooted, we tend to stay steady and build legacy without losing ourselves in the noise.

As always, I’d love to hear your word for the year. What’s drawing you? What feels like a compass in the next season of your story?

Here’s to a year defined not just by what we do, but who we become.

Past #My3Words Choices

2014 - Discipline. Intentional. Balance.
2015 - Rhythm. Bravery. Fitness.
2016 - Focus. Purpose. Do.
2017 - Pivot. Go. Grow.
2018 - Lift. Create. Relentless. 
2019 - Practice. Execute. Be.

2020 - Consistent. Empower. Budget.

2021 - Invest. Stretch. Discipline.

2022 - Conquer. (Click to read why I chose only 1 word)

2023 - Heal. Leap. Sow.

2024 - Ignite. Impact. Instigate.

2025 - Elevate. Thrive. Nurture.