Moving Forward from Here

New Territory. Boundaries Questioned. A Different Way of Being.

Movement requires adaptation. But meaningful movement also requires boundaries.

Otherwise, you’re not moving forward. You’re just moving around.

This past weekend, I went out dancing.

I hadn’t been dancing in months. I love social dancing—Latin dancing specifically. There is something about movement, music, connection and responding to another human being in real time that brings me back to me.

And yet, part of me felt guilty for going out and experiencing some joy.

Should I have stayed home instead?

Sure, I could have locked myself in a room, submitted more proposals, applied for more jobs and done more research. There is always more do be done.

Then Saturday morning hit, and I found myself wondering:

What more can I really accomplish by simply staying home?

That sent me down an interesting and thankfully brief rabbit hole.

If I rob myself of the things that bring me joy in the name of achievement, at what point do I stop fully experiencing myself?

On the other hand, if I abandon myself completely to the work, perhaps I will become successful, yet, what might I miss along the way?

We hear say yes to the right things. Fine.

But what are the “right” things?

And then something happened on the dance floor that finally made sense…

I realized I can prepare all I want. I can practice the steps. Learn the technique. Understand the timing. Know where my feet are supposed to go.

But the moment another human being invites me to dance, preparation can only take me so far. Because, now I have to listen, respond and feel the rhythm.

I have to allow myself to be led without abandoning my own movement.

I need to flow while still protecting my own space.

Maybe that is what adaptability actually looks like.

Not abandoning structure or surrendering your boundaries.

Not gripping so tightly to what you prepared that you become incapable of responding to what is actually happening.

We live in a fast-paced world where the expectation increasingly seems to be: do the work of ten people. Anticipate what’s coming. Stay ahead. Always deliver. Respond faster. Produce more.

And somehow, in the middle of all of that— be innovative.

But where exactly is innovation supposed to happen when every available inch of our lives has been allocated to production?

Maybe space isn’t the opposite of productivity. Sometimes our best thinking requires space to be more productive.

Which makes something I recently read particularly interesting.

Deloitte’s 2026 Global Human Capital Trends research found that 85% of leaders say developing the ability to adapt at the speed required today is critical.

Only 7% say they are actually leading in that capability.

One-third of workers experienced 15 major organizational changes in the previous year. Continual change was associated with decreased well-being for 68% of workers, increased workload for 60%, and 58% feeling less relevant or left behind.

85% know adaptability matters.

7% believe they’re actually leading it well.

So where is the gap?

Perhaps leadership isn’t merely knowing how to withstand change.

Perhaps it’s knowing what to preserve, what to release, what to integrate, what to renegotiate and how to remain yourself while doing it.

Because a leader who cannot bend eventually breaks.

A leader who bends without knowing her center eventually loses herself.

Which then made me think about something else: I looked back at the threads running through my several recent essays.

Movement. Agility. Becoming. Letting Go.

Hurricane Lowell passed the Hawaiian Islands last week. It did not make direct landfall, but Kauaʻi and Niʻihau took the worst of it: infrastructure damage occurred, and roughly 90% of Kauaʻi’s electric customers lost power.

And Lowell came only weeks after Lala affected Hawaiʻi in August. That is the unusual part.

What is actually happening?

Hawaiʻi normally has several natural advantages against hurricanes. But is nature doing something out of its normal rhythms?

2026 is behaving differently.

The tropical Pacific is exceptionally warm during a developing El Niño. This year, storms have also been developing farther south and west, putting them in better positions to travel toward Hawaiʻi rather than weakening long before they arrive.

And the numbers are striking. Basically running 306% above normal.

Conditions that historically helped protect Hawaiʻi aren’t necessarily operating in quite the same way.

Interesting Thread:

New Territory.
Boundaries Questioned.
A Different Way of Being.

Nature adapts. Organizations adapt. Markets adapt. Communities adapt.

People try adapt. Leaders have to adapt.

And perhaps the question isn’t whether our boundaries were wrong.

Perhaps the question is:

What happens when the conditions that created our boundaries are no longer the conditions we’re living in?

2026 has been showing up much differently than anticipated. The year of the Fire Horse. I listened to a podcast from Richard Rudd back in February. He mentioned that this year is about reigning the horse energy. From a numerological perspective it’s a 1 year energetically.

Richard Rudd is the founder of the Gene Keys, a contemplative system he began developing in 2002 after years of spiritual study and travel. His background is unusually eclectic—metaphysics and literature, poetry, Chi Kung, extensive travel, and contemplative traditions—and Gene Keys describes the work as something to contemplate and embody, rather than simply intellectually understand.

And the broader symbolism checks out: 2026 is indeed the Fire Horse year, beginning with Lunar New Year on February 17. The Smithsonian describes the Horse in this tradition through qualities including bravery, resilience and hard work.

Then you layer numerology over it.

2 + 0 + 2 + 6 = 10 → 1.

Within numerology, that makes 2026 a Universal Year 1—traditionally interpreted as the opening of a new nine-year cycle, associated with beginnings, independence, initiative, identity and leadership. Importantly for the essay, numerology is an interpretive tradition, not an empirical explanation for world events.

And suddenly your horse metaphor gets much more interesting.

A horse is movement. And a Fire Horse suggests movement with tremendous energy behind it.

A 1 year symbolizes initiation. And, yet, none of those things necessarily mean: GO FASTER.

That’s the trap. Maybe the leadership lesson of 2026 isn’t learning how to create more momentum. Maybe it’s learning how to lead momentum.

A powerful rider doesn’t destroy the horse’s energy. She doesn’t suppress it. And she doesn’t simply hang on while the horse decides where they’re both going.

She learns the animal and feels its movement. She knows when to loosen the reins and she knows when to apply pressure. She knows when the terrain requires a different response. And most importantly she has a direction.

Because perhaps boundaries are the reins.

Too tight, and nothing can move naturally. Too loose, and power becomes chaos.

The skill isn’t choosing between control and freedom. It’s developing enough awareness to know what the moment requires.

Maybe expansion isn’t asking me to abandon the reins. Maybe it’s asking me to develop a better relationship with them.

A leader who cannot bend eventually breaks. A leader who bends without knowing her center eventually loses herself.

Alignment gives you a center.
Adaptability gives you range.
Leadership requires both.

I have lived in approximately 10 different cities at various points in my life. I’ve been a dancer first, then a business owner, a consultant, then a corporate leader, and now rediscovering how all these different parts of me led me to where I am now.

Learning when to stay, when to move, and when the circumstances require a different response.

Martha Graham famously said: “Movement never lies”

Perhaps that’s why it resonates with me and I keep returning to it. Not running. More like adaptability. Movement Agility.