We love stories of change, like the joyful before-and-after pictures, the friends who make big career moves, the “hero’s journey” in a story, or those “aha!” moments when everything finally makes sense. Change can easily be described as a significant decision or a distinct turning point. We often believe that there is a single moment of breakthrough, a time when everything becomes clear, and the path forward is obvious. But if you listen to people talk about what real change looks like, it’s never as neat as a movie script.
Real change is slower than anyone likes to admit. It’s messy, it’s uncertain, and most of the time, it’s far more confusing than inspiring. Choosing to grow doesn’t always feel like some grand adventure—instead, it can feel like you’re quietly breaking the rules of everyone else’s expectations. You’re not just rearranging your life. In a way, you’re shaking up the world around you, too.
Here’s why that slow, restless push toward something new can feel like wandering in a storm—and why, even when it’s uncomfortable, it’s so important to keep moving forward.
The Myth of the Sudden Epiphany
Change is challenging because much of it occurs beneath the surface, making it nearly invisible to others.
Take Hiba’s story—one we hear a lot on the Global Grit Conversations podcast. She didn’t just wake up one day and decide to walk away from her steady job. For her, it crept in over time—a slow, heavy feeling that built up little by little. Every morning, she found herself trudging off to work without a spark of excitement; every evening, she came home feeling drained and somehow emptier than before.
From the outside, leaving a steady job can seem sudden, even reckless. Friends and coworkers often just see the final action—they’re not there for the months (or years) of quiet wrestling that happened beforehand. They don’t see the restless nights, the nagging doubts, or how the excitement for that old life faded away bit by bit.
Inside, for Hiba, that decision was quietly forming for a long time. It’s more like a gentle rebellion—a push against a version of your life that just doesn’t fit anymore. The challenging part is that no one else sees the buildup. So when you finally act, it can look rushed or even flawed when, really, it’s been quietly simmering beneath the surface all along.
Why Your Growth Triggers Their Fear
Through numerous candid discussions about life changes, one thing consistently emerges: when an individual chooses to pursue a new path, their closest companions often express little enthusiasm.
Instead, people hesitate. You experience doubt, those uncertain looks, and sometimes a gentle, puzzled frown. Every now and then, the pushback is even sharper. As Hadeel puts it, “Big decisions usually are perceived as craziness by people.” That kind of response can really sting. It feels somewhat cold, even unsupportive. But if you look closer, there’s something deeper going on beneath the surface.
Usually, resistance to your change isn’t really about what you’re actually doing—it’s about what your choice stirs up in others. People crave stability and the comfort of what they know. When you step outside those familiar lines, it can shake up their sense of security and sometimes even make them question whether they’re playing it too safe themselves.
When Hadeel left her stable corporate job to chase something that felt closer to her true purpose, nobody burst into applause. Instead, what greeted her was a lot of worry and some difficult conversations—even from those who loved her most. Her big step wasn’t just about her; it unknowingly made others look at their fears a little more closely.
The Battle Between Logic and Emotion
You can see this struggle play out in real life—and honestly, most of us have felt it. Change often creates an internal tension between our rational, deliberative thinking and our instinctive drive for safety—a dynamic explored by Daniel Kahneman, whose research on judgment and decision-making revealed how these two systems shape human behavior.
Even when a new direction seems logical to you, your heart often yearns for the safety of the familiar. That urge to stick with the familiar doesn’t just grip the person making the leap—it ripples out to everyone around them. The people who care about you might understand, logically, that your current path isn’t making you happy. However, deep down, the unknown also feels frightening to them, and a part of them can’t help but wish you would remain in a predictable environment.
That’s part of the reason that big life changes can suddenly feel so lonely. When the people around you are uneasy or unsure, it’s easy to feel isolated, even though you’re actually just learning to trust yourself in the unknown.
Fear Is a Companion, Not a Stop Sign
A lot of us believe we have to wait until fear disappears before we make a move. We think we need to feel truly ready—that some spark of confidence will arrive to push us forward—but the truth is, that feeling almost never comes.
Change is often a winding path. Hiba’s decision to step away from her career was not a simple one. She left her job, came back, and left another one again before finally choosing a new direction for good. It’s anything but neat—more like a messy, very human dance that unfolds in fits and starts.
Hadeel talks about fear like it’s always along for the ride—never really leaving, just showing up at every big choice. It doesn’t vanish just because you’ve decided to do something good for yourself. That persistent feeling goes against everything we’re told about change—that you have to feel sure before you move forward. The truth is, you rarely ever do.
Being ready isn’t really a feeling—it’s a choice you make, even when you’re nervous. You don’t wait for a sudden surge of confidence; you simply choose to move forward, despite your fears. The idea that “readiness” is a choice rather than a feeling becomes clearer when you look at how psychologists understand the relationship between fear and action.
Research in behavioral science shows that action can begin before emotions resolve—and often does. What matters more is how we interpret and respond to those emotions. Studies on fear and motivation suggest that anxiety can function as a signal of importance rather than a stop sign. When something matters, the stakes feel higher—and that’s precisely when fear tends to show up.
Work on approach–avoidance behavior in psychology further reinforces this idea. Humans are constantly navigating two competing systems: one that pulls us toward goals (growth, opportunity, meaning), and another that pushes us away from perceived risk (uncertainty, failure, loss). In this context, readiness is the decision to act on the approach system, even when the avoidance system remains active.
This aligns with research on self-efficacy and behavior change, particularly Albert Bandura’s work. Bandura’s research indicates that confidence is frequently developed through action rather than serving as a prerequisite for it. In other words, people don’t act because they feel ready—they begin to feel ready because they act.
There’s also a practical implication here that’s easy to overlook: if you wait for the emotional state of certainty or confidence, you may wait indefinitely. But if you treat readiness as a decision—something you assert rather than discover—you shift from being governed by emotion to being guided by intention.
Moving Forward in the Dark
Viewing things from this new perspective makes change seem less daunting. It reminds us that real transformation almost never comes with a roadmap or a green light. Instead of waiting for certainty, the people who actually move forward tend to do it anyway—they step into the unknown, even when things don’t feel perfectly clear. That’s the truth most of us miss: you move not because you have zero doubts but because you’ve decided to trust yourself enough to take the next step, even if you can’t see what’s ahead.
The bravery it takes to make a real change is easy for others to miss. People see the risks, the leap you’re taking, and maybe even shake their heads, wondering why you’d go down such an uncertain path. What they rarely see are the small, tough choices you face each day—the way you talk yourself forward, even when it’s scary. Without that context, it’s no surprise your decision can look impulsive, or even a little unrealistic, to someone on the outside. But you know what it really took to get here.
Embracing the “Crazy” Label
Once you get what’s really going on with change, being called “crazy” doesn’t sting the way it might have before. It stops feeling like an insult and starts to feel almost like a backhanded compliment—a sign you’re coloring outside the lines in a world that prefers things neat and familiar.
When someone calls you “crazy” for growing instead of staying comfortable, they’re not really saying you can’t do it. What they’re reacting to is how your decision shakes up their sense of what’s normal. That label—“crazy”—just means your bold move is challenging the lines everyone’s gotten used to.
Change isn’t some instant lightning bolt of clarity. Usually, it’s a winding, messy road—full of second-guessing, small steps, setbacks, and stubborn hope. It won’t feel easy, and it certainly won’t look perfect. What it really requires is just finding the courage, again and again, to take the next step forward, even when you have no idea what comes next.
Understanding all of this doesn’t necessarily simplify the journey, but it does highlight the reasons why change can sometimes feel burdensome. When you realize where the weight comes from, it gets a little easier to carry.
Don’t worry so much about being misunderstood. People will see your choices through the lens of their worries and doubts—they can’t always help it. Let them have their reactions. Your real job is to notice where those responses come from, maybe give a knowing smile, and keep moving toward what matters to you anyway.
If you’re standing on the edge of a big change and waiting for your fear to disappear, maybe give yourself permission to stop waiting. That perfect feeling of readiness might never show up—and that’s okay. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is take a small step forward, even if you’re still nervous. You might find that’s all it takes to start moving in the right direction.
If teaching had a playbook, it might include lesson plans, class materials, presentations, exercises, activities, and assessments that support the course learning objectives. When I walk into a classroom, I’ve got my playbook ready for that day’s class. But last week’s classes were different from any other, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. That’s when I taught a face-to-face summer course at a college in Cambridge, Massachusetts to pilot in-person teaching for courses in the fall. This was a daunting experience filled with uncertainty and trepidation, one that many educators will be faced with come fall. Here are some lessons that I learned from that experience.
A few months ago, the startling realization of a raging pandemic catapulted students and faculty online in a matter of days. The shift to online teaching was a case study in agility. Faculty from our campuses around the world pooled their knowledge and technical platform experience as we prepared to welcome students to our online campus. After a few days of teaching online, we became accustomed to rows of boxes on a computer screen instead of rows of students in a classroom.
I can’t say that I’m an expert in pedagogy and teaching strategies but having pioneered teaching in a COVID-era classroom with twenty-seven students, I have a unique perspective that is different from classes I have taught over the past twenty-three years. If you are planning to join your students in the classroom this year, consider the opportunity to rethink what that means for you.
Preparing for a COVID-era class takes more time and thoughtfulness than before.
The decision to enter the classroom wasn’t an easy one to make. Friends and family voiced their concerns, and most of us had questions about how an in person class would run. Given that we would be the only class on campus at the time, the associated risk seemed manageable. After thinking through the emotional and psychological aspects of teaching in a COVID-era classroom, I started to plan. Christine I. McClure taught an in-person class this summer at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach, Florida. She notes that “there is definitely a learning curve to COVID-style teaching, and it is a lot of work”. Be sure to set aside enough time for planning. In my case, a colleague and I had originally designed this new course, assuming that it would be taught in a face-to-face classroom. Once our classes moved to virtual delivery, I redesigned the course accordingly. The final version of the course turned out to be different than the other two versions since safety guidelines for student interaction and movement in a confined space had to be factored in. Fortunately, I had allocated enough time in my schedule for the course redesign and preparation.
There are lots of moving parts involved in a COVID-era classroom.
I didn’t quite realize how much the physical classroom itself is an element of learning, especially since the topics that I teach lend themselves to interactivity and experiential learning. When I entered the school for a preliminary site visit, aside from the fact that there were no students or faculty the building, it felt different. The lobby welcomed guests to evenly space themselves as they entered through the key card turnstiles. Crowded elevators are now limited to only two people per ride, with emblems on the floor that mark the distanced location where each rider should stand. The classroom traffic flow was marked: entry and exit are limited to specific doors; signage marks the movement among seats/tables in the classroom, just like in the grocery store.
If students will be moving around in your classroom, consider how that might work. Movement in the classroom should be thoughtfully choreographed to factor in safety guidelines. In my case, twenty-seven students were situated in a flexible classroom with six feet between each seat/table. Consider how activities such as team discussions and bathroom breaks might be handled to minimize movement and contact within the classroom. For example, during the break, students were invited to exit the classroom in groups in order to minimize the traffic in the bathrooms.
Classes that feature a good amount of group work may require alterations. Instead of working side-by-side, student teams will need to work across physical distance in the classroom, making it difficult to hear one another (and read one’s lips) while wearing masks and face shields. I used a lavalier microphone initially but abandoned it after the microphone clip slipped off my face shield one too many times. It took a while for us to learn how to modulate our voices so that everyone could be heard and understood.
What are the considerations for your classroom?
Take advantage of available meeting rooms and other spaces.
Consider how your class is “typically” structured. Make use of any space that is available to you outside of the classroom. We were fortunate to have access to team rooms (smaller meeting rooms) where 3 to 4 students could meet comfortably within safety protocols. Chairs were positioned on marked locations to ensure proper distancing. It is worth noting that working in teams requires discipline and constant reminders to limit contact and reinforce new habits.
There were many safeguards in place to ensure a safe academic environment. A good amount of outreach was sent to students before the start of the class which probably contributed to their awareness. The course, entitled Persuasion and Influence, was an intensive 4-day elective for master’s students from around the world. There were several pre-requisites for students to join the class: participants could join in-person only and then only after completing a mandatory quiz to acknowledge that they had watched the “Back to campus” information video and completed a self-declaration. Students that had not properly quarantined in advance of the course start date (if required) were not allowed to join the class. In addition, daily alerts were sent to each student to inquire about their physical well-being.
It’s important to set the tone for your students.
Being in a COVID-era classroom is a brave choice. The way that we handle this choice, as educators, is up to us. Many students in our classrooms will be apprehensive about being back to school. Many of our faculty will be apprehensive as well. It’s up to us to set the stage and the tone for our students’ learning experience.
I anticipated what the students’ mindset might be, and we spent a lot of time in open discussion at the beginning of class. Just like with other courses, we started with student introductions and expectations for the course. Typically, I ask students to jot down their expectations for the course and for learning, and then post their responses on the wall at the front of the room. We use this to get to know one another and introduce the course. In this classroom, however, I used a Mentimeter poll for students to share their thoughts in order to minimize movement and contact.
Many of the comments revealed what students were thinking: “I hope to be COVID-free by the end of class,” “I’m happy just to be around people again.” Students talked about how they were feeling and what it means to be back in a classroom after months away, much in the way that I noted in a recent essay, Canary in the Coal Mine or Canary in the Classroom?One of our guest speakers acknowledged the courage that students demonstrated by being in the classroom. We talked about how we are changing habits in our learning environment and about restrictions and ways to encourage psychological and physical safety in the classroom. Consider different ways that you might enforce these new habits in your classroom.
In a recent McKinsey report, Amy Edmondson notes that “For many people during the pandemic, the explicitness of the physical lack of safety has been experienced as a shared fear, which has allowed them to be more open and intimate and more able to voice their thoughts and concerns with colleagues. This collective fear thus becomes a potential driver of collaboration and innovation, further contributing to an open environment for producing and sharing ideas that under normal conditions may have remained unshared.” Glimpses of this collective fear surfaced during the four-day course and contributed to a collective sense of community.
Make safety a shared responsibility in the classroom to reinforce new habits.
This one might seem obvious, but I wasn’t quite sure how to approach the topic until the students were in the classroom. The floor at the front of the room was marked with painter’s tape around the “professor’s bubble” that included the podium. In order to minimize physical contact, the goal is to stay within the “bubble” and for students to stay in their physically distanced seats. “I expect that we are going to give each other feedback and keep each other honest. So if you’re observing somebody that’s not distancing, it’s okay to mention it. If you see me walking out of my bubble, raise your hand and let me know”, I explained. Ten minutes later, a student raised her hand: “You’re outside of the bubble, professor.” From that point, we established the norm to remind one another, constantly, to follow safety precautions.
With safety at the forefront, it’s important to rethink human interaction and creative ways for students to stay engaged with the course topics while meeting learning objectives.
Modify your teaching strategies to take advantage of technology.
Students presented a preview of their project on the last day of class, which would typically involve a presentation by the entire team at the front of the classroom. One team member would insert a USB drive in the podium computer and then remove it when they were finished. In order to minimize contact and movement I set up a section in Canvas where teams uploaded the presentations. I downloaded each presentation, thereby avoiding the need for any student to touch the podium computer. We established a rule that only one person per team could use the slide clicker, which they picked up and returned to a table. After each use, I wiped down the device and anyone that touched it washed their hands. Student teams stood at the front of the classroom (in the “professor’s bubble”), physically distanced, and delivered their presentations.
We used technology to bring the outside guest speakers closer to the class when students joined the Zoom session from their computers while they were seated in the classroom, and the guest speaker was projecting on a large screen at the front of the room. There are other techniques that you may want to try in your environment. For example, when students dispersed to team rooms, I opened a Zoom session for the entire class. One student joined from each team in order to connect the entire class from their physical team rooms. We also experimented with using WhatsApp to send instructions and questions to each team while they were in their team rooms. Using virtual technology in a physical setting is still a work-in-progress but it can be useful when some of the students are dispersed, effectively tethering all of us together.
I can say that I felt differently from the first day of class to the last day. The kickoff was a bit quirky – meeting one another for the first time, adjusting masks, seating arrangements, safety protocols and teaching a course I had not taught before. What surprised me the most about this in-class experience? It will take more than a four-day course to change habits that we have developed over years of teaching and learning. I was surprised by how our “pioneer community” of learners had developed a sense of camaraderie during our time together, perhaps because of our shared experience and the newness of it all. With practice and persistence, hopefully the precautions that we have taken will result in a safe learning environment for all of us. I also discovered a silver lining: due to the lighter-than-usual traffic, my 75-minute commute has been cut in half.
Are you a teacher who has taught in a COVID-era classroom?
How did your prepare for it? What was the student experience?
About the author:
Pamela Campagna MBA, CMC is the President of BLUE SAGE Consulting, Inc. a certified women-owned management consulting firm. Pamela is a board member and chair of the Marketing and Membership Committee of CMC-Global Institute, a virtual global community for professional management consultants. She is also a Professor of Practice at Hult International Business School in Cambridge, MA where she has been teaching leadership, strategy and management courses since 2014.
Collaboration in a global marketing setting can be challenging on the best of days. Our guest blogger, Jen Kelly of New Initiatives Marketing shares her views on how to rise to the challenge.
Delivering a workshop can be one of the best ways to share your knowledge and get in front of your future clients. While the content of your talk needs to be relevant, helpful and insightful, you must put just as much care into the execution of the event as you do into developing the content. Over the past few weeks, my strategy partner, Pamela Campagna of Blue Sage Consulting and I presented to the small business clients of Middlesex Savings Bank. Pamela was onsite at each location in the greater Boston area. I joined in online from Toronto, live via Skype video.
Here are some tips that helped us to deliver a polished and relevant workshop four times over four weeks. I hope they can help you deliver your next best workshop.
Open doors for others
1. Be a good partner
In our case, with Pamela in the room and me on video, it was easier for the audience to make an immediate connection with her. She said hello to everyone, was able to chat and shake hands before and after the workshop. Ensuring that we both got enough airtime in front of the audience was important. Also, it was important that we didn’t confuse the audience. We did this by scripting our presentation to be really clear in the beginning, middle and end what each of us focused on. We worked to make it crystal clear that Pamela’s expertise is strategy – work with her if you’re creating or revamping your strategy. Mine is implementation and execution – work with me if your challenge is implementing and executing your marketing strategy.
2. Be good to your sponsor
Our sponsor was Middlesex Savings Bank. Their marketing team had enough on their plate without taking on the promotion of our workshop series. Knowing this, we did our best to make this easy for them by ensuring they had all the elements (photos, bios, logos, copy) to create their mailings. We also suggested content, subject lines, times of mailing. We developed a survey to send out once someone registered for the workshop. This survey helped prepare the attendee for the content and prepared us to meet the expectations of the audience. Make it as easy as possible for your sponsor to help promote your workshop.
3. Be good to the audience
People have taken the time to attend your workshop. Ensure you have something for everyone to do next. For those who will sign up to buy right away – be ready to take an order. For those who want to try out what they’ve just learned from you – have take-a-ways like worksheet that spell out the first few steps they need to take to get started on their own. For those that need to think a little bit more about what you’ve just presented – encourage them to connect with you on LinkedIn, to download your presentation slides, and to check out the resources (industry articles) you’ve provided to learn more. Each person will move at their own pace, be ready to match it.
Before and after
4. Rehearse
Pamela and I were both comfortable public speaking. What was new to us was working together. We put the time in to rehearsing and found out how to work with our different presentation styles.
5. Debrief
Make the time to debrief after each session. As I was on video I had such a different perspective than Pamela did. We made the time to do this the same day of each workshop so that the experience was fresh in our minds. We’d talk about what worked well, what didn’t and what to adjust. Sometimes this was a 10 min conversation. Other times, longer. Always valuable.
Expert help
6. Get the tech right
Oh technology. We love you. Except when you don’t work – for no reason. We did our best to test everything including four site checks at each location to understand the setup and technical requirements unique to each place. We also brought Pamela’s colleague onsite to manage the tech set up, and to be responsible for any backup fixes we’d need if the wifi failed for any reason. Doing so allowed us to focus on the audience and our content, knowing we had a pro in charge of all the technology.
7. Be ready for your close-up
For me, presenting on camera was a big step. I knew I wanted to present well and frankly was really uncomfortable on video. So I got some coaching. Jaeny Baik who works with business leaders to get over themselves (essentially!!) was my secret weapon. She worked with me to learn how to present on video. While I have a long way to go, her coaching made me feel good. I learned some of the basics with lighting, camera angles, and scripting to look and sound professional. Without her coaching as a first step, I’d still be shy and uncomfortable on video and probably would not have agreed to do this workshop – what a missed opportunity that would have been. More and more opportunities exist for delivering your expertise in a workshop setting. While you’re sure to know your content inside out, these tips are meant to ensure the implementation and execution of your workshop goes smoothly. Good luck!
What tip would you add to the list?
Need help with the implementation and execution of your next workshop? Contact Jen.
I recently hiked two 4,000-foot peaks in the White Mountains. This may not seem like a big deal to many – unless you’re afraid of heights like I am.
Regardless, I decided to join in on a trip to the White Mountains, thinking, “How difficult could this be”? I learned there’s a big difference between walking or running seven miles and hiking seven miles!
Call it blind faith or dumb luck, but we made it there and back – and learned a few things along the way.
Lesson 5: Celebrate Your Wins
When we reached the top of the first peak, a fellow hiker opened his backpack and cracked open a bottle of Moet champagne. Although he had been through these mountains many times before, he realized that for many of us, this was our first time. We raised a glass and celebrated our first victory as we moved cautiously downhill to the second peak.
Lesson 6: If you’re Not Prepared, Improvise
Ignorance is bliss, and traveling with experienced hikers is the way to go. In retrospect, I probably could have been more prepared for the “simple seven-mile hike in the White Mountains”, but we improvised along the way. My fleece jacket became a towel after a while (we were thoroughly drenched from start to finish). I borrowed two walking sticks from another hiker (he had brought an extra pair). The phrase “tree hugger” took on a new meaning as I grabbed every branch in sight and slid down a 45-foot incline.
Lesson 7: When in Doubt, Keep Going
Throughout the day, turning back never occurred to me; in retrospect, we only stopped twice. Some of my fellow hikers sometimes questioned daylight availability and argued about which paths to take. I was a bit nervous when the compasses came out, but we appeared to stay on course. There was a critical point where we might have retreated and called it a day – the point of no return, but we didn’t.
Lesson 8: Never Underestimate How Long Things Take
The guidebooks estimated that our trip should be completed (under normal conditions) in six hours, and it took us nine hours. When we started, we didn’t understand all the variables that would affect our progress: fog, rain, slippery terrain, eroded trails, and slower hikers. When we returned, our friends were about to contact the state police to report us missing. Would we do it again? Sure. And this time, we’re so much wiser!
Which of these lessons sound familiar to you? We’d like to hear what you think!
I recently hiked two 4,000-foot peaks in the White Mountains. This may not seem like a big deal to many – unless you’re afraid of heights like I am. Regardless, I decided to join in on a trip to the White Mountains, thinking, “How difficult could this be”?
I learned there’s a big difference between walking or running seven miles and hiking seven miles!
Call it blind faith or dumb luck, but we made it there and back – and learned a few things along the way.
Lesson 1: Start with a Committed (and Experienced) Team
I knew that I would be with hikers who were more experienced than I was – one of our companions was looking to complete his list of “4,000’ Peaks Climbed”. In fact, the reason that I had signed up for this hike was to join a friend of mine – a nice way to spend a Saturday, right? When we arrived at the trailhead, it was cold, damp, foggy and rainy. Two of our members (including my friend) opted to stay back and enjoy a warm fire and lunch and drinks at a nearby restaurant. I decided to continue on and do the hike with 6 other strangers. After all, it was only seven miles, the rain had stopped and I figured we’d be home before dinner.
Lesson 2: Be Ready for the Pitfalls
Each hiker shared thoughts about the upcoming adventure as we prepared for our journey. The experienced hikers talked about routes, rain, wind, and fog. The novices (like me) talked about bathroom facilities, warm clothes, and lunch. We were all anxious to get started. Little did we know what was ahead of us. John Assaraf of “The Secret” fame describes the road to achievement and self-development much like driving a car in the dark: you may not be able to see what lies beyond the range of your headlights, but as you come closer, you can see more clearly. We were ready.
Lesson 3: Take Things as They Come
We planned to cover two 4,000 foot peaks in the White Mountains: Mt. Osceola and its counterpart, East Osceola. We scaled the first peak and forged ahead. Stepping over rocks and trying to stay on eroded paths, we encountered unpredictable trail conditions. At each turn and elevation, the terrain presented a new challenge (especially for the novices in the group, like me), and we plodded along, chattering the entire way. I noticed that when the chatter stopped, the terrain became more treacherous – a sign that we needed to pay more attention to what was ahead.
Lesson 4: Find Your Own Pace
The hiking group included novice and seasoned hikers alike. As time went on, the more seasoned hikers trudged ahead of the rest of the group, acting like scouts who returned to report what was ahead. It was not unusual for others in the group to drop back and wait for those of us who moved more slowly across the challenging terrain. We developed a kind of rhythm throughout the day, with smaller groups moving together, each at our own pace.
Have you conquered a challenge and applied it to business? What sort of business lessons have you learned?
