“I just want to be the best I can be.”
“I want to create an environment where we win and we care.”
“I want to use my organization to challenge people to become the best version of themselves.”
When I hear answers like this on a discovery call, I know we’re likely a match. And I don’t take for granted how rare it is to hear them when I ask, “Why are you interested in coaching?”
These responses signal maturity:
A confidence to explore and own who I am—and who I am not.
A humility that understands growth never ends.
A recognition that there are multiple paths forward.
A respect for the complexity that exists—and must be engaged.
They also signal courage:
A willingness to step into the unknown.
A desire to take things apart, examine them, and reimagine what’s possible.
An openness to the messiness of transformation.
A discipline to move beyond black-and-white thinking and embrace duality.
This is not an easy space to inhabit—as an individual, a team, or an organization. It takes consistent effort to realign our intentions and actions, both personally and collectively.
Becoming our best self is a lifelong journey.
Building a meaningful, impactful organization is an ongoing wrestling match.
When these paths are pursued with honesty and intention, they are filled with fear, uncertainty, and doubt. This work is uncomfortable—at times, even unsettling. But it is only by stepping into the unknown that we discover what makes expansion and abundance possible.
In that space, we are stretched. We develop new skills and a deeper kind of strength—one that moves us beyond the need for control and the desire for power. We learn to walk in faith: one step at a time, rather than needing to define the entire path.
And something shifts.
The journey becomes one of discovery and even excitement. Outcomes begin to align. The peace, confidence, and validation we seek start to emerge—not because we forced them, but because we grew into them.
We also begin to move beyond either/or thinking and into both/and.
We can pursue ambitious organizational goals and honor the people who make them possible.
We can generate profit and stay rooted in purpose.
We begin to think in terms of the arc—the long-term story we are shaping—while still honoring the decisions we make each day.
This perspective frees us from the illusion that things should be perfect or easy. Each day still presents real trade-offs. But the arc gives us clarity in the midst of what can feel like chaos. It helps us see alignment even when things appear misaligned.
The arc also releases us from a false sense of urgency and finality. It reminds us we can begin again. We can pivot, apologize, forgive, and realign.
It expands our view—reminding us that we belong to one another and that we are part of something bigger. When we see more clearly, we also see more options. And we’re less likely to compromise our values in pursuit of short-term outcomes.
If I’m honest, there are moments when I wish it were easier.
When I’m tired or frustrated, I want to set a mandate and have everyone fall in line. I know I could use power, control—even fear—to drive results. But that doesn’t create sustainable success.
It doesn’t win hearts and minds—and that’s what builds true commitment and ownership.
It doesn’t develop critical thinking or learning—and that’s what allows us to grow and scale.
So how do we actually do this work—individually and collectively?
This is where the idea of high standards + low expectations comes in.
We set a bold, aspirational vision—and we meet people where they are. Including ourselves.
Too often, we default to one or the other:
We lean into low expectations alone—creating comfort, but settling into mediocrity.
Or we lean into high standards alone—creating pressure, frustration, and burnout.
But when we hold both—and pair them with openness and curiosity—we create space for honest conversation.
We can talk about what’s getting in the way.
We can discern where grace is needed—and where a push is required.
In my own life, I naturally lean toward high standards. I thrive on challenge and growth—but I can also drift into frustration and burnout.
So I’ve had to intentionally strengthen the “low expectations” side. Not by lowering the bar, but by loosening my grip on outcomes.
When something doesn’t go as planned, I make space to learn, pivot, and move forward differently. I don’t beat myself up—I look for what the experience is teaching me.
On the other hand, I’ve worked with individuals and organizations who lean too far into low expectations.
Out of fear or a desire for comfort, they avoid setting bold goals.
Or they create “nice” cultures—where people enjoy each other, but performance suffers.
Standards get fuzzy.
Small misalignments are ignored.
Hard conversations are avoided in the name of being liked.
But real care—real leadership—requires more than that.
In an environment grounded in high standards + low expectations, we believe the purpose of our work is growth—becoming the best we can be.
We expect things to be messy.
We accept that we will fall short.
Perfection has no place here—and forgiveness is part of the daily rhythm.
We understand that love in action looks like both encouragement and challenge.
And in that kind of space, something powerful happens:
Clarity grows.
Confidence builds.
Commitment deepens.
We can start with ourselves—practicing this in our own leadership and lives. Then we extend it outward: to our families, our teams, our communities, and our organizations.
So, are you in for the wrestling match?