A journey through Japan that begins with an unexpected encounter and ends somewhere I never expected: a different way of understanding leadership, people and myself. Because sometimes the longest journeys are the ones that quietly change how we see the world.
One year after a relocation, most people ask a simple question: “Is this working?”
It sounds reasonable. But it’s the wrong question.
The one-year mark does not call for a neat conclusion, but for a more honest form of reflection—one that resists the temptation to tidy up the experience into something coherent, and instead lingers on what has actually unfolded: what worked, what did not, what has shifted quietly
It invites a different kind of question, one that is less concerned with whether expectations and goals have been met, and more attentive to what this experience is now asking in return.
One year after a relocation, most people ask a simple question: “Is this working?”
It sounds reasonable. But it’s the wrong question.
The one-year mark does not call for a neat conclusion, but for a more honest form of reflection—one that resists the temptation to tidy up the experience into something coherent, and instead lingers on what has actually unfolded: what worked, what did not, what has shifted.
It invites a different kind of question, one that is less concerned with whether expectations and goals have been met, and more attentive to what this experience is now asking in return.
