Together is the real power
No more waiting, no more performing. Just real work, together.
It’s been a minute since I posted—June 16th, right before I went on vacation.
I spent that week with old friends and Austin, and honestly? It was exactly what I needed. Meanwhile, Chris is exploring France, Italy, and Spain and hopefully, his own place and values in the world.
We laughed a lot. We reminisced. We made new memories. We chased children and watched them express lots of emotions (and maybe guided them through a couple?)
And I even went swimming in the ocean—something I’ve been afraid of for years. Just like that, the kids asked, and I walked straight in.
Then the bombs started going off.
Literal ones, out in the world.
And metaphorical ones, in my own life.
When the dust settled, something was clearer than ever:
It’s time to stop waiting.
For a long time, I thought someone else would say it better.
That someone with more credentials, more followers, more distance from the mess would step forward and take the lead.
But here’s the truth:
There’s no one in the wings.
No one coming to rescue us.
No one secretly holding the answers.
No expert or leader or movement that’s going to give us permission to speak, create, or change what needs changing.
It’s not me. It’s us.
We’re it.
And that’s not depressing. That’s liberating.
We’re conditioned to think someone else is supposed to make the first move.
That there’s a system, a program, a roadmap we’re supposed to follow.
But that illusion—waiting for “the next”—is what keeps us small.
It’s how people in power keep us preoccupied.
Even our longing for belonging gets weaponized.
Not just through relationships, but through work, institutions, savior-complex social media branding, and endless promises that “if you just wait, the right fit will come.”
Meanwhile, our hands are idle. Our voices are quiet. Our hearts are on hold.
We weren’t meant to perform.
We were meant to participate—fully, awkwardly, imperfectly.
But that means letting go of the fantasy that someone else will do it better.
It means refusing to stay in the audience or backstage while systems crumble or regenerate without our input.
There’s no one coming to say it better than you could.
No one who knows more about your work than you do.
No one who gets to decide if your vision counts.
So stop waiting.
This isn’t a solo call-to-arms, either.
It’s a collective one.
What if we stopped auditioning for roles that were never made for us in the first place?
What if we stopped measuring our worth by how palatable we are to the people already holding the mic?
What if we sat in the discomfort of not knowing what comes next—together—and made something anyway?
The stage is empty. The wings are empty.
And the spotlight isn’t where the power is anymore.
The clearing is.
That wild, uncertain, co-created space where no one leads alone, and no one is waiting for applause.
Let’s build there.
I’ve got more coming soon—no scripts, no stage directions. Just clearing space, getting real, and refusing to wait anymore.
Also, read Amplify by Adam Met, so we can all learn more about how to speak up and speak out when things aren’t okay.