No Sacred Wisdom
On writing in public, accountability, and the humility of trying again
Publishing Date: January 27, 2026
The First Draft explores systems, institutions, technology, and the human realities of living inside them. Essays, field notes, and practical frameworks from the intersection of work, identity, and change.
New here? Start with the Pathways archive.
This essay belongs to the 7 - Becoming yourself in public pathway.
The irony of writing on the internet for strangers is that you never feel more responsible to practice what you preach. I find myself referencing my own writing in meetings with my team and holding myself to the values I have chosen to share publicly.
It is easy to talk about how we make decisions, the values we want to uphold, and what we hope to see in our teams. It is a completely different thing to write it publicly and then hold yourself accountable to those practices.
And yes, I am aware of how absurd it is to reference my own writing in conversation - she says, humbly - but it is also the most reliable feedback loop I have. It reminds me what I said matters, what I actually meant, and where I might still need to grow.
Lately, I have been noticing that the leaders I admire most are the ones who have honed their craft to the point that they correct me on the precision of my language. I have learned that anything I say as a leader, and the longer I hold this role, the truer it becomes, carries weight whether I say it flippantly or not. One informal mentor will even stop me mid-sentence when I make a joke and remind me that precision matters.
As I exist as a silly goose most days, this kind of feedback is a gift. It reminds me that humour and humility can coexist with clarity, and that kindness often shows up as correction. Those are the mentors I need right now: the ones who help me remember that clarity and kindness can coexist.
It also reminds me of a former director I once worked for, a genuinely good person who had one terrible habit. We were working through a period when layoffs were planned, then cancelled, then planned again. Whenever he needed to update the team, he would send out a calendar invite titled simply Meeting. Everyone would walk into the boardroom convinced they were about to be laid off. To this day, I remind myself never to send a meeting invite called Meeting. Context is a kindness. Telegraph your movements. Otherwise, an update feels like a threat, and that kind of ambiguity can quietly erode trust.
I find myself remembering that I wrote about letting people change and then making different choices. I remember following the interesting and holding myself to finding small moments of curiosity in my own daily life. I coach students on being more or less directionally correct based on the data they have gathered and the next choice they are making, and I quietly ask myself what data I am gathering and how I am making my own choices.
There is a humility in writing publicly and knowing that you might be a person of strong conviction, but you are still human, with failures, with failings, and with forces acting upon you that you cannot always see or control.
That said, it is comforting to document how I think. They have become like handholds on a climbing wall, helping me move forward one small reach at a time.
One of the things I find myself saying most often these days is, I have no idea, but we will figure it out. Or sometimes, simply, we will find out. I have never had more opportunities to identify the limitations of my own insight than in coaching. It is a daily practice in humility and discovery, and I think that is part of why I love it.
I have no sacred wisdom - a phrase I often share with my students - but I do have lived experience. I have fallen, failed, and had to try again.
I hope this writing serves as a handhold for you and for my future self, helping us keep climbing toward the life we each want for ourselves and for one another.
I may never live up to the things I write perfectly, but writing them helps me remember who I am trying to be.
Next Step: A Way to Practice This in Your Life
For the next few days, notice moments where your words carry more weight than you intended. No correction required. Just notice where tone, timing, or phrasing changes how something lands.
Make some notes about where intentional language may benefit your relationship with yourself, friends and family, or at work.
PS: If you want to support this work: restack it, share it, or drop a quick comment. It helps more than you’d think, and it keeps me writing and helping other changemakers. (This one’s public—feel free to send it on.)
Further Reading & Context
I share books and sources here because I think the legacies people work from matter, and because good writing deserves a longer conversation than one essay can hold. Some of these informed this piece directly. Others are invitations to go deeper into the territory it opens. You can browse my full reading list, organized by theme to see the broader intellectual foundation this newsletter draws from.
Some links below are Amazon.ca affiliate links. I also include Chapters Indigo, Kobo, and WorldCat so you can support a Canadian bookseller or find it at your library instead. I earn a small commission if you buy through affiliate links at no extra cost to you.
Arendt, Hannah, Responsibility and Judgment (2003) Essays on accountability, judgment, and moral clarity.
Brown, Adrienne Maree. Emergent Strategy (2017) Possible lineage connecting quiet practice, iteration, and relational responsibility.
Lamott, Anne, Bird by Bird (1994) On writing as practice rather than performance, and the discipline of returning to the page.
Palmer, Parker J., The Courage to Teach (1998) Explores integrity, humility, and identity in leadership and teaching.
Schön, Donald, The Reflective Practitioner (1983) Foundational thinking on learning through reflection-in-action.
Wheatley, Margaret, Leadership and the New Science (1992) Possible lineage for systems-informed leadership and responsibility.