I’ve been sitting with a question from George Couros’ new book, Forward, Together:

“After all, isn’t true growth measured by our ability to look back on who we were and appreciate how far we’ve come?”

What I keep returning to is not the looking back, but how that pause creates space for what comes next.

In her book The Pivot Year, Brianna Wiest names this idea in a way that feels deeply aligned: “The courage with which you enter today will become the fate you will meet tomorrow… You are exactly where you need to be.”

At the start of a new year, there’s often an unspoken pressure to move quickly. To set goals. To complete what feels unfinished. To rush toward what’s next. But Forward, Together reminded me that taking time to notice where we are doesn’t slow progress; it often helps us move forward more intentionally.

You are exactly where you need to be.
Not because the work is done.
But because this moment is part of becoming.

At the start of a new year, it’s easy to believe that growth requires starting something new. But what if this moment is less about starting over and more about continuing? Continuing to learn. Continuing to reflect. Continuing to become. Without taking time to acknowledge where we’ve been, it’s difficult to truly understand where we are and even harder to move forward with intention toward what’s next.

Early in the book, one image keeps returning to me. Couros shares a short video clip, less than two minutes long, titled “Girl’s First Ski Jump,” which I highly recommend watching. In it, a young girl stands at the top of a ski hill for the first time. You can hear the fear in her voice as she imagines everything that could go wrong. Beside her is an experienced guide, someone who remembers exactly what it feels like to hesitate at the top.

She isn’t pushed.
She isn’t rushed.
She is guided.

That image brought me back to another one I’ve been thinking about lately. A social media post of a young girl sitting at the top of a playground slide. No one telling her what to do. Just a pause, a breath, and then she pushes herself forward. The caption reads, “Sometimes, the person you’re waiting for to push you… is you.”

What connects these two moments isn’t the movement downward.
It’s the moment before.

Both girls are standing in that in-between space where growth actually happens. Between fear and courage. Between hesitation and action. One needs reassurance. The other is ready and gives themselves permission. Both are exactly where they need to be.

That’s one of the many leadership lessons Forward, Together offered me. Moving people forward isn’t about pushing change faster. It’s about remembering what it felt like to stand at the top ourselves and choosing to lead with presence, especially in community.

Because progress doesn’t happen in isolation. It happens when people feel seen. When they see themselves in the story. When they believe their voice matters in the work ahead.

I’ve seen this play out in classrooms, where students are invited to interpret, question, and create meaning rather than simply comply. I’ve seen it with educators, when leaders name uncertainty, model learning out loud, and invite others into their thinking. In those moments, something shifts. People stop waiting to be told what to do and begin to see themselves as contributors, collaborators, thought partners, and creators.

So, as we begin this year, maybe the question isn’t, How fast can we move forward?
Maybe it’s:

Who needs reassurance right now?
Who might be ready for a gentle nudge?
And how can we create the conditions for people to move together?

Forward, Together is not a book about urgency. It’s a book about trust. About community. We can honor where people are while still believing in where they can go.

I invite you to think again of the girl at the top of the ski hill.
And the girl at the top of the slide.

Do you remember?

Neither was rushed.
Neither was pushed.
Both were supported.

They were exactly where they needed to be.
And so are we.

That’s how becoming happens.
That’s how leadership works.
And that’s how we can move forward — together.

So, as we begin this year, maybe the work isn’t about answers, but about the questions we’re willing to sit with.

A Gentle Invitation

If you’re looking for a book that grounds you while also nudging you forward, Forward, Together by George Couros is worth spending time with. Not to rush through, but to return to, especially in moments when leadership feels complex and community matters most.