Edwin's Corner

  There is a particular kind of frustration that only arises when you know exactly what to do. You know you should exercise. You know you should save more money. You know you need to have that difficult conversation. You know you should delegate. You know you need to stop procrastinating, go to bed earlier, speak up, set boundaries, launch the business, write the proposal, call the client, apologize, forgive, pray, rest, lead better, eat better, and—according to every health expert on the internet—probably drink more water. You know. In fact, you may know so much that you could confidently teach a seminar on the very habit you're struggling to practice. The people who know the most about change are not always the ones changing the most. Some of us have become collectors of transformation. We've watched the podcasts, bought the books, and highlighted entire chapters—as though fluorescent yellow were a recognized method of behavioral change. We've downloaded productiv...

  We were a little late to start. If you've ever organized an event, you'll know that before a room fills with people, it first fills with you. You arrange the chairs, check your notes, and then, for a brief moment, you're alone with your thoughts. Almost every time, one question quietly walks into the room before anyone else. "Who gives you the audacity to think people will come to this meeting?" I've been answering that question for the past year and a half, and it never gets old. Some days I answer it confidently. On other days, I ignore it and keep setting up the room anyway. This particular afternoon, that familiar question followed me into our Men's Mtaani session. The venue was a gym in the middle of a market, best described as ramshackle and clad almost entirely in iron sheets. And when I say iron-sheet-clad, I mean a room literally made of iron sheets. Dust had settled comfortably over every surface. The floor had seen better days. T...

"The greatest change in life rarely begins with what we do. It begins with how we see ourselves." --- Every January, millions of people quietly make promises to themselves. This year, they will finally get healthy. This year, they will save money. This year, they will become better leaders, better spouses, and better parents. They buy a new journal. Download another productivity app. Print new habit trackers. Join a gym. Create vision boards. Write ambitious goals in beautiful handwriting. For a brief moment, everything feels possible. Then life resumes. The first week is encouraging. The second week is inconsistent. By the third, unexpected demands compete for attention. Work becomes busy. Children get sick. Travel disrupts routines. Energy drops. Motivation fades. By February, many of those carefully written goals have quietly faded. By March, life feels remarkably similar to the previous year. Every January, I watch this cycle unfold — not only in others bu...

  Why two people can experience the same event and walk away with completely different lives. "Events shape our lives far less than the stories we tell ourselves about those events." --- The email arrived at 8:17 on a Tuesday morning. It contained five words. Can we talk this afternoon? No greeting. No explanation. No context. By 8:18, David had stopped working. By 8:20, he had replayed every meeting he had attended in the previous month. By 8:30, he had convinced himself that management had discovered a mistake in one of his reports. By 9:00, he was calculating how long his savings would last if he lost his job. Before lunch, he had rewritten his CV. By mid-afternoon, he had practiced how to tell his wife he was dismissed. He hardly registered what colleagues said. His stomach clenched, and his breath grew shallow. The afternoon seemed to drag on endlessly. Finally, three o'clock arrived. His manager invited him into her office. David sat down, bracing hi...