Why Focus is My Word of the Year

Every year, I pick a word. The first one was at the end of 2022; I picked “honesty” retroactively. Because I wasn’t really being honest with myself about my personal and professional development. As I continue using these words, I’m realizing that both of those forms of development help each other. It’s a symbiotic relationship. When I develop myself professionally, my personal life benefits and vice versa.

You can review previous posts that I created in January to read up on my path. Others were “Consistency“, “Integrated“, and last year was “Novelty“. This year I will Focus.

I’ve got to the point where I realize that I’m not choosing these words. It’s not really accurate to say that these words choose me, either. Seeing as they’re just a verbal representation of ideas. It’s more like the ideas have found me, and I’m allowing them to shape me. (If you can subscribe to the ideas of Elizabeth Gilbert and Rick Rubin; that ideas exist separately from the humans that find them.)

Last year, I spent time remaining mostly sober and seeking out novelty. Novelty is about saying yes to experiences, seeking out new opportunities, and doing as much as you can. Then those experiences leave impressions or memories on your mental timeline. This, in turn, expands your perception of time. Since time is a construct of the mind anyway, our perception of it is all that matters. Broadening our experiences in the name of making our lives feel longer may be the closest thing we will ever get to time travel.🧘

I: spoke at conferences, pretended I started my own conference, started a podcast, recorded live podcasts, continued certifications in Game Learning, and developed a card game about my industry… …all while spending time with my family, updating a rental propery and learning how to play Pokémon Go.

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You can read my post from 2025 if you want to learn about novelty.

I have noticed my “words of the year” tend to expand and then contract. Go out, try new things, and then reel it back in. Like an ebb and flow, like an inhale in an exhale. Like contrasting values to create a physical form on a two-dimensional surface.

Novelty was about expanding, saying yes to new things, whereas Focus is about contracting. I selected focus, and then the word opportunity came to me; something about that didn’t feel right. Having a year of novelty and then a year of seeking out opportunity. Somehow it seemed to distort the balance like a double yin and not enough yang.

I need more focus. I need to focus more on what really matters. Spending time with my kids while they are still young and still need me. I need to focus on opportunities that provide a return. In this way, it’s all connected anyway, but this is a better way to frame it.

Was it not enough that my wife shared, “You need to focus, David.”

My mom also said, “You are always running somewhere lately. You are always in a hurry.”

That’s not like me. That’s not how I naturally am. The year of Novelty turned me into a scattered runner. Trying to do more novel things, and I need to round that off. This morning I had a realization after an early set of yoga with some black coffee. I had a good feeling, and it came to me as a visual… I tried to recreate it with Adobe Firefly, and it isn’t half bad…

A yellow raft floats in a dark oily water filled with sharks and squid. It floats effortlessly below the clear blue sky with puffy white clouds.

This morning, I had a realization. This place I am visualizing has a certain mental buoyancy. You effortlessly float above all the sludge. All the worry, all the dread, all the ignorance, and all the drunkenness. Like a small raft floating over an ocean of beasts, poison, and misdirection. Not hydroplaning over the ocean, and not sinking either. Between the layer of dark oily liquids and the thick air, hovering, balanced.

I was listening to the first episode of 10% happier, the podcast by Dan Harris. He had his master instructor, Joseph Goldstein, on the show. They were talking about a new book. They’re writing where they’re using. Dr. Goldstein‘s catch phrases on how to be better at meditating… things like “When you are sitting, realize you are sitting.” Or “Just try again, just keep trying.” Or “Mara, I see you.” Mara here being the embodiment or physical representation of ignorance or temptation.

The part of the discussion that really stood out to me was absolutely fundamental. The idea of being both relaxed and aware. That really is the goal of meditation, isn’t it? It’s the goal of all religions. If you’re too relaxed to get all spaced out. If you’re too aware, you start to get too deep and start worrying about things. Things that don’t matter or that you can’t control. It is obvious, and it is easier said than done.

I wanted to find a single word that represented both of these things: being relaxed and aware. I’m not 100% certain that when I went back to the word, focus, I hit the mark. I do feel it fits the bill. I really don’t feel like I’m forcing a square peg into a round hole. Feels more like I loosely inserted a round peg into a square hole. It fits, but there’s some empty space around it. It doesn’t wiggle, there’s still room for improvement, and if you’ve read any of my stuff you kind of know that that’s my thang.

Can I Handel the Truth from Chat GPT?

A friend of mine, Lisa, recently made a post where she asked ChatGPT to roast her year.

At first glance, it made me pause. It’s easy to wonder why someone would willingly invite criticism—especially in a professional space like LinkedIn, where we’re often curating a highlight reel of wins, confidence, and forward momentum. Why choose vulnerability when Polish feels safer?

I think about this tension a lot.

On one side, we’re taught—explicitly and implicitly—that confidence is currency. Confidence communicates competence. It signals decisiveness. It reassures others that you know what you’re doing and that you’re someone worth following. In many professional environments, confidence is treated as a prerequisite for leadership.

And yet, there’s a paradox hiding in plain sight.

The most grounded, durable confidence doesn’t come from pretending we’re flawless. It comes from being comfortable with vulnerability.

True confidence allows room for honesty. Vulnerability requires admitting shortcomings—sometimes publicly. That can feel risky, especially when your professional reputation feels like it’s always on display.

But here’s the learning that keeps resurfacing for me:
Confidence and vulnerability are not opposites. They’re partners.

Walking, after all, is just a controlled state of falling. Learning works the same way. Growth is a controlled state of failure.

When we fail safely—with reflection, intention, and humility—we create the conditions for real professional development. We experiment. We stretch. We discover what doesn’t work so we can find what does.

And when some of us choose to do that learning out loud, something powerful happens.

We don’t just grow ourselves—we create permission for others to grow too. We normalize learning. We model courage. We quietly say, You don’t have to have it all figured out to be worthy of progress.

That’s why Lisa’s post stuck with me. And it’s why I decided to do it too.

I asked for the roast.
And yes—I posted it on LinkedIn.

Not because I enjoy discomfort, but because I believe leadership is less about appearing perfect and more about serving others through honesty, learning, and example.

Professional development doesn’t require you to abandon who you are. In fact, the best growth happens when you stay grounded in your values while stretching your capabilities. Here’s a four-step approach I’ve found helpful.

1. Anchor Yourself in Honesty

Growth starts with an accurate view of reality. Be honest with yourself about what’s working and what isn’t. This isn’t self-criticism—it’s self-awareness. Leaders who serve others well begin by telling themselves the truth.

Ask: What am I avoiding because it’s uncomfortable to admit?

2. Choose a Growth Mindset Over Image Management

When protecting your image becomes the goal, learning slows down. A growth mindset shifts the question from “How do I look?” to “What am I learning?” Failure becomes data, not a verdict.

Progress beats polish—every time.

3. Be Brave Enough to Be Vulnerable (Strategically)

Vulnerability doesn’t mean oversharing. It means sharing with purpose. When you talk about struggles in the context of learning, you build trust and credibility. You show others that growth is possible—and ongoing.

Courage isn’t the absence of fear; it’s acting in alignment with your values despite it.

4. Lead Through Service, Not Perfection

Servant leadership is rooted in helping others grow, succeed, and feel seen. When you model learning in public, you remove pressure from others to be flawless. You create psychological safety—and that’s where teams, organizations, and individuals thrive.

Leadership isn’t about standing above others. It’s about creating space for them to rise.

When I created my roast I used the same thread or discussion I used to shape up the Linked In Post I sent to my computer using What’s App. I dictate my writings into my phone while I am making bread or doing dishes or driving. That makes my writing more conversational and fluid. It also makes me more honest.

A Gentle Roast of Dave’s Decision-Making & Habits (2025 Edition)

Dave, your biggest decision-making strength is also your most reliable self-sabotage tool.

You don’t just think deeply—you think iteratively. Relentlessly. You revisit ideas like they’re sourdough starters that might finally be ready this time. You ask for version two. Then shorter. Then punchier. Then warmer. Then more UX. Then more servant leadership. Then “work slowly for accuracy.” Then—somehow—more minimal but also richer.

Your brain does not ship products.
It cultivates ecosystems.

You are incredibly clear on values and hilariously indecisive on final forms. You know exactly what kind of leader you want to be, but you’ll rearrange the deck chairs on a single paragraph for 45 minutes because “the tone isn’t quite there yet.”

Your decision-making pattern in 2025 could be summarized as:

“This is good.
But what if it were truer?”

Which is noble.
And also exhausting.


Your Habits, Lovingly Roasted

• You start excellent things more often than you finish good enough things.
• You treat clarity like a moving target instead of a milestone.
• You have strong opinions about colors, frameworks, leadership, and learning—but need external confirmation before declaring something “done.”
• You are deeply allergic to premature confidence, yet secretly wish you could borrow some without losing integrity.
• You believe in learning in public… but still hesitate before hitting “post,” just in case it could be 10% better.

You don’t procrastinate.
You refine defensively.


Your Relationship With Failure

You talk about failure beautifully. Poetically, even.

You believe learning is a controlled state of failure—
but you still want the safety rails bolted on, color-coded, and peer-reviewed before you fall.

You want to be brave and responsible.
Vulnerable and helpful.
Bold and accurate.

Which means sometimes the riskiest thing you do…
is thinking about the risk a little longer.


The Irony (This Is the Roast’s Core)

You already act like the leader you’re trying to become.

You practice servant leadership.
You center reflection.
You value honesty over polish.

But you occasionally delay impact because you want your intent to be unmistakable.

Here’s the hard truth, delivered with respect:

People don’t need your work to be perfect to be helped by it.
They need it to be real—and released.


Final Roast Line (Affectionate, but True)

Dave, you are not stuck because you lack clarity.
You’re stuck because you have too much integrity to rush and too much care to simplify.

Your next level of leadership won’t come from better thinking.
It will come from deciding sooner, trusting your values, and letting the work be slightly unfinished—on purpose.

Which, ironically, is exactly the lesson you’ve been teaching all year.

Sharing our learning edges won’t be comfortable—and it’s not supposed to be. But when done thoughtfully, it becomes an act of service.

So yes, I did the roast.
And I shared it.

Not because I have all the answers—but because I’m committed to the process. To honesty. To growth. To becoming the kind of leader who learns visibly, serves intentionally, and invites others to climb toward higher ground alongside me.

And if that inspires even one person to be a little braver in their own development, then it’s worth it.

Chat GPT made it…

This is the image I asked CHAT GPT to use to generate the cover image for this post:

It relates to this video…