For the past two weeks, I’ve intentionally stepped away from publishing articles. Usually, an essay goes out every Tuesday at 6:30 a.m. This time, I chose a pause.
Which sounds simple until you realize how much of your identity is tied to showing up, contributing, and being important. Apparently, I can give myself permission and still request supporting documentation.
Gurl, where the f*_ have you actually been?
That’s for me to discern and for me to disclose. Stepping away from publishing hasn’t meant stepping away from paying attention. It made me think about how easily a commitment becomes a role and how rarely we stop to ask whether that role still fits.
The pause brought me back to a question I’ve been sitting with:
You’re capable of leading. But where are you taking everyone—including yourself?
So, where’s the ship?
A few companies have caught my attention. A few emerging medical device companies are worth watching in 2026.
Teal Health’s FDA-authorized Teal Wand enables at-home sample collection for HPV cervical cancer screening. Bloomlife combines maternal-health monitoring devices with connected care outside the clinic.
Meanwhile, United is expanding Starlink connectivity and making it easier for passengers to check whether their flight has it. HubSpot is giving customers more control over what they spend on AI.
Inspire Medical Systems on my radar too. The company develops implantable neurostim technology for obstructive sleep apnea. October 1st it announced approval of new procedure codes that include it’s Inspire V system, scheduled to take effect Jan ‘28.
Very Different industries. Different decisions.
Phew. That’s a lot of information.
So what do we do with it?
We ask what it means. What changes for patients and customers? For the people delivering care? For the teams expected to turn a decision into something that works?
That’s where my attention goes: the distance between announcing a direction and helping people move toward it. The results will matter. So will what happens after the announcement.
A vision needs people who have what they need to carry it forward.
Which brings me back to the ship and the people aboard.
Do they understand where we’re going? Do they have what they need to contribute? Can they tell the captain something isn’t working without being invited to swim home?
I’ve been under the guidance of brilliant leaders. Those seasons were exciting, and we created meaningful work together. I knew what I was contributing to, and I wanted to contribute.
I’ve also worked with people who made me question the ship itself. Where were we going? What were we building? And did I still want to be aboard?
Useful questions to ask before unpacking.
Side Note: I have occasionally asked them after decorating my own cabin.
Experience has made me more attentive to what happens after the vision is announced. Does anyone listen when something isn’t working? Are expectations clear? Does the person steering understand what the journey is asking of everyone else?
A compelling destination matters. So does how people are treated on the way there.
And when we’re the ones leading, those questions belong to us, too.
What do I want to build?
That experience shapes what I’m looking for now.
Then there’s a part of me that feels pulled back toward consulting, owning my own brand and helping other people grow from the ground up.
I love building. I really do.
Especially relationships. Getting to know the client. What makes them tick? What are they trying to accomplish? What problem can I help them solve?
And then there’s operations. The systems. How the work actually gets done. Where things get stuck, who’s carrying too much, and what keeps the enterprise moving forward.
Apparently, I want to know the people aboard and take a look at the engine room.
That’s the kind of work that interests me: understanding people well enough to build something that works for them. A mission I can stand behind. People I can learn from. A place where my strategy, empathy, and ability to build relationships can contribute to work worth doing.
I have a few ideas about where Ms. Davis can make a meaningful contribution.
And I’m getting more deliberate about which ships I’m willing to board.
Would you choose this destination today?
Maybe you’re asking your own version of that question.
A full calendar tells us we’re occupied. Understanding where our commitments are taking us requires a closer look.
We can spend years pursuing a role, growing a business, or becoming the person everyone relies on. We get good at it. People recognize us for it. Eventually, the recognition can make it harder to ask whether we still want it.
Do you want the role you’re pursuing—and the life that comes with it?
The daily rhythm. The responsibility. The demands on your time. The version of you who comes home after giving so much of yourself at work.
Sometimes we’re still navigating toward something an earlier version of us wanted.
There’s humility in admitting that. Especially when we’ve invested years becoming qualified for a role we’re no longer sure we want.
But surely growth gets to influence the itinerary. (Let this last sentence sit with you before moving on).
Not everyone needs the same hat
Not everyone is designed to climb the corporate ladder.
Some people thrive leading teams. Others want to master their craft, build a business, or contribute to meaningful work with enough energy left to enjoy their lives.
I can wear many hats. That doesn’t mean I want custody of all of them.
There are roles we’re capable of performing that we don’t want to keep. There are responsibilities we’ve carried so well that everyone — including us—has stopped questioning whether we should still be carrying them.
Knowing your place aboard takes honesty about your strengths, your values, and what you want to give. It also takes enough respect for other people to let their contributions look different from yours.
A ship needs people who know what they’re doing and have room to do it. Leadership includes creating those conditions.
Less chasing. More choosing.
Knowing yourself won’t make every decision obvious.
The work can still be hard. Conditions change. People disappoint us. Sometimes we disappoint ourselves. Though, you have a clearer place to return to. You’re clearer about why you’re doing the work and what you’re willing to give to it.
You begin to recognize which ambitions are yours, which you’ve inherited, and which looked particularly convincing on someone else’s LinkedIn profile.
You can appreciate an opportunity and let it pass. You can learn from a leader while deciding their mission isn’t yours. You can adjust your course and take responsibility for how that change affects the people counting on you.
You get more discerning about what deserves your energy.
I can research everyone else’s next move. I still have to choose my own.
A voyage you actually want
When I imagine myself on a boat somewhere in the South Pacific, sun on my skin, ready for a swim, I’m struck by how little I picture needing.
Although sunscreen and someone who knows how to operate the boat would be appreciated.
What appeals to me is the feeling of being fully there. Enjoying the life I’m in without mentally negotiating the next thing I need to become. I want that feeling to have a place in my decisions on dry land.
The work I choose. The people I build with. The commitments I make. The space I leave to enjoy what all that effort supports.
Knowing your place aboard and choosing a voyage you actually want to take.
Before I accept the next hat, I’d like to know where the ship is going.
