When we slow down to see the person behind the role
I recently flew from Nashville to Boston, drove up to Ipswich, and found Joe Christopher waiting for me on a bench. We hadn't seen each other in person since our days at Standard Register over a decade ago.
We didn’t miss a beat.
It was a great reminder that time doesn't have to be a barrier when you share the same values. We picked up exactly where we left off, talking about how essential real human connection is in both life and work. It’s something that often goes missing in executive leadership today, which makes holding onto it all the more important.
We set out on a 5K walk starting near the Fox Creek Canal, the oldest man-made tidewater canal in the country, dug back in 1820. Joe guided me across the salt marsh and up toward Castle Hill on the Crane Estate. At the turn of the 20th century, Americans built these "Country Place Era" retreats to escape the noise and crowds of industrialized cities. Walking those sweeping coastal paths, it struck me how, one hundred years later, we still desperately need places to step back from the noise and see the bigger picture.
On our way through the property, we stopped by the gift shop just as a customer was admiring some hand-painted clothing. It turned out they were made by Joe’s wife, a well-known local artist. Seeing him so proud of her work was a reminder that our colleagues have entire lives, talents, and stories outside of the office that we rarely slow down enough to see.
The walk also closed an open loop. Last year, Kevin Young, MBA and I fell just short of reaching this exact estate on a 100-mile journey because a closed gate cut us off. Walking it with Joe finally finished that goal, and Kevin even drove out to join us for lunch at a local pub afterward.
We covered a lot of ground, landing on a few core truths:
Energy needs an outlet: Our drive doesn't vanish as we get older; if left unused, it stagnates into isolation. We need art, hobbies, or physical movement to stay connected.
Trust isn't a default: Joe shared that a younger colleague recently asked him, "Is this a safe environment?" before speaking up. If people feel they have to ask, we haven’t built the right culture.
Adapt forward: You can't train like a 20-year-old forever. Aging gracefully means letting go of ego, replacing intensity with consistency, and taking real responsibility for your own longevity.
We finished the day over a plate of fried clams and a spontaneous conversation with strangers at the next table.
In the rush of metrics and milestones, it’s easy to overlook the stories unfolding right in front of us. Make an effort to notice and appreciate the people behind the roles. Often, there’s more to their story than you realize, and the experience is richer when you do.
