To the concerned changemakers, nervous leaders, and other emotional misfits,

As I lay here in my hotel bed, surrounded by what will soon be distant memories of an amazing week in the form of my newfound friends, I have found a very rare yet profound joy to be me. It’s a feeling that, in recent days, hasn’t honestly come around that often. It’s strong yet graceful, driven but delicate. It’s a feeling that makes me want to reminisce, but also to keep moving forward. It’s a feeling of true, honest compassion and drive for what I want to accomplish in my life.

As I try to find a way to write this, the mountains outside my window, quickly becoming revealed from the veil of night, inspire me to tell a story of endurance. Mountains are symbols of immoveable, strong, powerful-in-silence divine beings; at the very least, that’s the resolution I have come to. They provide the perfect backdrop to encourage me to push forward, innovating and excelling at all I come across. They allow for a moment of quiet self-service, finally allowing me to take a moment to be me. Most of all, they make me oh-so uneasy at the thought of departure, a reminder that the rest of this morning spent travelling back to Canada is going to hurt on a spiritual level.

You see, I can write for hours about the contributions these guys have made to my life, and to the lives of everyone around them, but I struggled for a long time to find the words to describe my own growth and that’s been the barrier to me fully maturing into a leader. This isn’t new by any means — it will likely continue into the future, as I’m simply just not a self-serving person. The profound impact that this morning has had on me so far, however, has inspired me to break that norm and find it within my heart and soul to share with you all the changes that I’ve made for the better.

“You cannot teach a man anything, you can only help him find it within himself.” No truer words spoken by none other than Galileo Galilei. I am of a firm belief that all I find valuable in life was not taught to me but was instead coaxed out of me until I could act on it. This week has been a week of coaxing, a week of growing, and a week of reflecting. I don’t think I can confidently say that it was a week of change — change isn’t something I’m a fan of, nor do I see to be relevant in this case. No one left here changed, just (sometimes marginally) improved and grown. We left here with knowledge in tow, yes, but what good is material knowledge without actionable character?

I wasn’t forced to grow when I was taught about how to interact with others, I was forced to grow when I found myself surrounded by practices that went against my core beliefs. I wasn’t forced to improve myself when I was taught how to inspire the catalyst for growth, I was forced to improved when I became that catalyst for growth in smaller, intimate discussions. All this to say, I’m not leaving these mountains book-smart for once in my life — I’m leaving them life-smart.

90% of growth is environmental in my opinion, and I was extremely blessed to have an amazing support system around me as I made those shaky steps. Not everyone has that. This is where my first piece of advice surfaces: be your own best guide. If I’ve learned one thing this week, it’s that, in cases of cognitive and moral dissonance, you are your own best leader. What you learn in that life-smart territory I’ve mentioned is 100% on you to cultivate. Even in situations where you find yourself the minority in your team, be the starting gun on your own hundred-meter dash of self-improvement.

I think the written word speaks volumes in and of itself as well. It’s not the content of these pages that really drives me to grow, but the process of writing in general has inspired me to cement the impactful growth strategies that I’ve promised to myself. I’ve learned more about myself in watching this beautiful night sky, typing words seemingly aimlessly on a page, than I ever have teaching a class or creating a slide deck. Why is that? Why are we so attached to the written word, holding it as the word of God at every possible encounter?

My personal answer is that, in a world that moves a mile a minute in like manner to how I’ll be moving shortly, the written word is held as gospel as it becomes an anchor point indiscriminate of where it was written, or what time, with whom, et cetera. This is my second piece of advice to you: write. Write your heart out. Allow your mind to be held accountable by your heart and allow yourself to take a moment and feel. It’s okay to stop and cry, especially on your growth journey; hell, I’ve done it more times than I can count this week alone. It’s hard to be human, and we all struggle with our own demons, but allow the pen to be your sword, your courage be your shield, and your wisdom be your army. Fight those demons and hold yourself accountable in writing as if you were drafting an emotional contract between your heart and your soul.

Finally, and this is where I had to improve the most: let people in. You gain nothing by throwing away the key to your beliefs. I’m not saying to tell everyone your deep, dark secrets, or to trust strangers with your trauma, but instead to entrust your belief in a future to your teammates. There are some things I may never tell anyone, and I’ve come to resolve to that fact, but I will always ensure that I share my own beliefs as well as encourage those around me to share theirs with me. By locking your fidelity in its own Faraday cage, and trying to enact change from the outside, you limit your own ability. Be proud of your resilience and cognizance through adversity, and you’ll command an army.

So, to all those aforementioned changemakers, leaders, and emotional misfits, take a moment to embrace your proverbial mountains at nighttime. Let the strength and weight of your natural symbols overtake you. Ensure that, beyond all else, you take their spirit and perseverance through trying times, and go be the figurehead that you feel most comfortable being, as the only limit to your success is you. The most benign things can bring you inspiration, but we get so caught up in our own little echo chambers that we don’t appreciate it enough.

Go forth, and explore your horizons.

Sincerely,

A proudly concerned changemaker, nervous leader, and emotional misfit.