The Space I Didn’t Ask For (But Might Have Needed)

Being between leadership roles can feel like free fall.

Even worse, like flying, just long enough to forget the ground is coming.

(RIP Tom Petty. Tip of the cap to Jeff Daniels and Ryan Bingham.)

No title. No team. No calendar full of meetings or pings from Slack.

(Uninstalling Slack did feel good, though.)

Just space. Uncertainty.

And a quiet sense that I should be doing something.

I’ve Never Not Worked

When you grow up in a family bakery, that’s just what you do. As soon as you can reach the workbench, throw on an apron and start kneading. Dough under your nails before you hit double digits. Mowing lawns. Shoveling wet snow. Bussing tables. Short-order cook. Waiting tables at my mom’s restaurant (I sucked at that. Way too many hungry truckers banging spoons on mugs for coffee refills).

Work wasn’t something you questioned. It was just what you did.

So here I am. Floating in the bardo.

I haven’t looked for a job in over 30 years. I haven’t had to. I’ve been mentored, referred to, and recruited. Talked my way in. Reinvented myself more than once. Sometimes just damn lucky.

But I’ve never had a pause like this.

And it hasn’t just felt unfamiliar. It’s made me question everything.

Because if I’m not doing… who am I?

The First Weeks Were Brutal

The first few days were full of scrambling. Conversations. Possibilities. Gripping the club too tight. I kept reaching out to people. Asking for help.

Just stay busy enough to keep the voices quiet.

Mmm… nope.

Then the holidays came. The noise died down.

And the questions showed up, with an anxiety chaser. Not enough Propanolol in the world to calm my CNS.

Am I actually as good at this as I thought I was?

Have I just been faking it (or believing my own hype)?

Am I effective (or just good at being performative)?

Respected (or just tolerated)?

I’ve watched it happen up close.

People retire and fall apart within a year.

Founders sell and lose themselves.

Someone hits a wall. Job loss, divorce, health scare... and then they realize they’ve tied their identity entirely to what they do.

It’s painful.

It’s scary.

And I caught myself thinking: Shit. Am I one of them?

Even though I thought I knew better?

Or maybe. Just maybe. I created this space for myself… before life forced it on me.

If I'm not a (insert job title here), what am I?

Now, that's not exactly where my head went. I know the difference between occupation and vocation. But what was open for subversion was something sneakier: grandiosity.

If I’m as good at this as I think I am… then where’s the job?

To be clear, I thought I'd done the work. Believed I was immune to it. I'm a human being, not a human doing, right?

But in the stillness, even that felt like something I needed to reexamine.

So I stopped trying to fill the vacuum by staying busy. I started sitting in it. Being still and letting it do its work on me.

And Then One Day... 🍄 🧙

I had been obsessed, since I was early teens, to finding the answer to my life's mission. Why am I here? What's for me to do? What does it all mean? You know, normal existential questions.

I wanted someone, anyone, to hand me the task list so I could execute the plan.

And so, one afternoon, I was lying in bed with my eyes closed and sensed a presence.

Call it intuition. Spirit. Inner knowing. Doesn't matter.

This field was so peaceful. Calm. Loving, masculine energy. I was in awe.

Visually, it resembled the new iOS 18 Siri bubble waiting for a question. So I asked:

What is the purpose of my life? What’s my mission?

It chuckled, and lovingly said: "To lead."

It was very matter-of-fact.

I didn't want to push it, but with reverence, I asked:

"May I ask, lead what?"

It patted me on the head and said:

"Why don't you start by setting a good example?"

And I laughed.

Because it was so simple. So obvious.

And I'd been leading all along.

I’ve been leading for as long as I can remember: building sports clubs, coaching my siblings’ teams, class president, organizing volunteer work. I wasn’t trying to be impressive. I just wanted something to exist, so I created it. Pulled people together. Made it real.

I didn’t know that wasn’t normal.

I just… led.

Because I couldn’t not.

I'd spent decades trying to find my purpose. Struggling, strategizing, striving, spiritualizing.

But it had been there all along:

To lead. To serve. To become someone others feel safe to follow.

Not through control.

Not through charisma.

But through presence.

Through example.

What I’m Doing With This Time

How?

I'm slowing down. Not out of laziness, depression, or lack of self-worth. Out of respect.

For myself. For my wife. For my family. For the moment. For the questions that don't answer themselves quickly.

Side note: I’ve binge-watched Dope Thief, Dark Wind, and Eastern Gate. All are excellent. It hasn’t all been radical self-inquiry.

I've been looking inward. Not to build a new plan, but to tell the truth.

About where I've been in integrity. About myself to myself, and then to others. About where I've been performative. About what I've achieved... and where it still feels empty.

I've been reflecting on impact. Not just metrics.

Rereading old notes, performance reviews, emails, texts from people I didn't know I'd helped, video messages from my teams, unsolicited thank-yous, and moments I forgot I was even part of.

Remembering to receive as well as give.

That part got me.

Humbled me.

Grounded me.

Centered me.

Reminded me.

I've been creating, too. Picked up some oil paint and a canvas for the first time in 35 years.

Something opened up. Not productivity. Not performance.

Flow. Clarity. Listening.

I'm writing again. Finishing the second book with a little pressure from the publisher.

And I'm building a leadership community. I’ll be sharing more about that soon.

I've been anything but bored.

It’s been an inside job.

Sometimes messy.

But deeply, deeply alive.

What This Season Is Really About

This time off isn't about "what's next."

It's about what's true.

Not what company I want to work for.

But the impact I want to make.

The conversations I've been having have reinforced that we don't need leaders clinging to old playbooks. That model doesn't scale.

We need leaders with a strong sense of self. With clarity in their vision. Who know how to listen and follow their gut.

Leaders who don’t just set sail. They set the course.

And lead by example.

That's the kind of work I want to do.

So yeah. I'm between jobs.

But I'm not between purpose.

I'm in the middle of it.