A friend asked me this with real conviction back in January.
I hadn’t given it much thought, but as we spoke, one word quietly surfaced: excellence.
It was a surprising choice. For years, I’d avoided the word — it carried with it a weight of past experience. As a young youth pastor, “excellence” was often used like a whip; a tool of control, wrapped in performance. It was about compliance, not calling.
But over time, my view shifted. And now, excellence holds a very different meaning for me — one I carry forward with purpose.
Excellence, I’ve come to believe, is internal — not external. It’s driven by the heart, not by fear, pressure, or reward.
You can do something well because of external motivation. But to be on a path of excellence is different. It’s about the desire to get better and better at something that truly matters.
That pursuit often comes with pain. But it also leads somewhere beautiful: to growth, and ultimately, to mastery.
Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi once said:
Excellence is never found on the easy path. It shows up in effort. In stretch. In the daily choice to commit to something worthwhile.
And that’s how I want to show up in 2026 – aligned with that same energy.
This isn’t a vague journey. Excellence is something we name and pursue with intention.
For me, part of that pursuit is in the workshops I run. I care deeply about how they land, how people experience them, and how I can keep refining the experience.
Every session ends with a personal debrief. I sit with the question: “How do I do this better next time?”
That doesn’t mean every workshop is better than the last. Because here’s the key: Excellence isn’t perfection.
It’s a way of showing up and being.
I seek that same posture in other areas of my life — in resilience, in fatherhood, in marriage, and in leadership. I fail, of course. But the desire to grow never leaves. And joy often meets me along the way.
Perfection is narrow. It’s hard to define, almost impossible to reach – and often paralysing.
It stops people from starting.
Excellence is different. As Adam Grant puts it:
It can be wrinkled, even flawed. But it’s full of intention. It’s rooted in care and contribution, and it shows up across all roles, from CEOs to caretakers.
Coach John Wooden once focused on three daily anchors:
basic skills, conditioning, and mindset.
He cared less about whether the team won — and more about whether they improved every day. That philosophy shaped my own approach.
Here are three questions I now ask myself often:
1. What basic skills should never be left to autopilot?
For me: active listening, empathy, and enquiry. They’re simple, but they’re everything.
2. What mindsets bring my work to life?
A growth mindset — for myself, and for every person I work with. I believe people can grow, given the right space and support.
3. What conditioning sets me up to deliver with impact?
Reading. Reflecting. Storytelling. Deep learning. And above all — rest.
Excellence needs recovery too.
The more I reflect, the more I’m drawn to this word.
It’s not about prestige or performance.
It’s about presence.
It’s about showing up for what matters. Even when no one’s watching.
May your year be filled with moments of quiet excellence.
And may joy meet you on the path.
