Hi there, you kind and beautiful Human!!

I’m packing for our honeymoon with CNN muttering in the background.
Love on the calendar, chaos in the chyron.

Two truths at once: the world feels sharp right now—mean in places it used to be merely messy. And yet, Joe and I are about to board a plane to Portugal to celebrate a marriage we once weren’t legally allowed to have. That’s not a contradiction; it’s the assignment.

I keep catching myself toggling between tabs: hotel confirmations, then headlines; dinner reservations, then doom-scrolling. It’s whiplash with a passport. Here’s what I’m choosing: to send postcards from the edge—notes from a life that refuses the false choice between joy and responsibility.

Control the Controllables comes with me in the carry-on. I can’t fix geopolitics from my airplane seat. I can decide to treat every server, driver, and gate agent like a human with a life beyond my transaction. I can tip well. I can choose facts over fury. I can call my reps before we leave and again when we’re back.

I can practice Radical Kindness without turning into a doormat.

Joy isn’t apathy; it’s fuel.

When we numb delight to match the news, we don’t become more serious—we just become less resourced.

Kindness, rest, art, and good bread are not escapism; they are how people keep going without becoming what they fight.

So this edition is a pocketful of both: a clear-eyed look at the bullying that passes for leadership—and a set of intentions for traveling as citizens, not consumers.

Postcards from the edge of a wedding, an airport, a headline—and the ongoing project of building a life that can hold it all.

If you’re reading this in your own season of mixed feelings, I see you. Maybe your home page is heavy and your kitchen is joyful. Maybe your company is thriving and your community is hurting. Two truths. One heart. We carry both.

Hit reply: What are your two truths this week? I’ll read every note on the flight.

We’re starting this trip at the end of this month with three simple intentions—leadership tools disguised as travel habits.

1) Notice small kindnesses.
Kindness is often quiet—an extra pastry wrapped “for later,” a bus driver who waits, a stranger who steps aside on a narrow street. We’ll call them out in real time and tip our gratitude forward. (If you see us on IG, expect a highlight reel of small goodness.)

2) Tip your gratitude forward.
We’ll pay attention to invisible labor—housekeeping, kitchen crews, overnight desk staff—and act like neighbors, not customers. Clear the glasses. Learn names. Leave notes. Tip well. Kindness is cheap; disrespect is expensive.

3) Leave places better than we found them.
This is about more than litter. We’ll leave time buffers, too—so our energy is better than when we arrived. No Schedule Olympics. We’re choosing depth over coverage: one extra conversation in a bookstore beats three rushed attractions.

The Kind Traveller’s Pledge (screenshot-friendly):

• I will be a guest, not a critic.

• I will greet first and mean it.

• I will tip like I have been served by a human.

• I will learn three local words and use them badly but earnestly.

• I will leave behind more kindness than crumbs.

If you have quiet joy recommendations in Lisbon, Porto, or the Douro—a bench with a view, a poem in a tile shop, a bakery that tastes like childhood—reply and send them. We’re building our map from your postcards.

And when we come back? We’ll bring stories—not the “we checked every box” kind, but the “we met this person and it changed how we want to lead” kind. That’s the point. Travel doesn’t make us bigger; it makes us smaller in the right way—sized to care again.

Ask for an Answer — Mini Q&A for Real Life 

How to use: Pick one question per day. Write two sentences. Stop before you over-explain.

1. What am I pretending not to know about my bandwidth?
   Where am I saying “after the honeymoon/after Q4” when the honest answer is “not mine to carry”?

2. Where would curiosity create relief this week?
   Draft the opening line: “I noticed X and I’m curious what’s underneath it.”

3. If kindness led my calendar, what gets moved—or removed?
   Name one meeting, one metric, and one myth to drop.

Bonus, for leaders: What outcome am I guarding that would be better served by building capability instead of giving answers?
Translate it into a coaching question you’ll ask someone on your team.

So Lucky to live in Atlanta and watch the Arthur M. Blank Family Foundation much such important and impactful contributions to all.

What I’m Reading, Watching, and Listening To

1) Watching those Indiana University Football Hoosiers rewrite history, defy the odds, and confuse the football analysts! Over 40 years of fandom, it is a fun ride to watch this team blossom and thrive. I just wish we cared as much about Freedom of Speech and DEI on our campus, but I will take this journey for now!

2) Listening to this new crop of female soul singers with so much joy! Raye, Olivia Dean, and Summer Walker are in heavy rotation on my playlists

3) Watching TASK on HBO. What a cast! Intense story! Multi-layered and so Surprising….Highly Recommended.

Community Corner

Loved every minute of our Booth Experience at Atlanta Pride 2025!

Connecting with our friends, making new friends, and supporting and celebrating our amazing Community. Weather was perfect. Tons of amazing Human Beings. Loved taking a moment to be OUT, PROUD, LOUD, and TOGETHER.

Worth Fighting For — Stand & Steward 

We’re living in a constant fight-or-flight loop. Everything is a five-alarm fire or a reason to unplug entirely. Outrage or avoidance. Click to rage; click to numb. Meanwhile, the work that actually moves the needle—the patient, boring, human work—gets crowded out.

I think there’s a third path: Stand & Steward.

Stand means you stay present to reality—facts, not vibes. No romanticizing, no catastrophizing. You name bullying when you see it, including the version that shows up in boardrooms and bureaucracies: public shaming, performative certainty, “win at any cost” theatrics, and the refusal to collaborate across difference.

Steward means you pick a sphere and take care of it. You don’t try to be the national spokesperson for everything before breakfast. You choose one domain—your team, your district, your neighborhood mutual-aid network—and you make it measurably better. You trade volume for impact.

A few tensions to hold with clear eyes:

• Courage vs. spectacle. Courage is not the loudest microphone; it’s the leader who tells the truth without humiliating people. Show me the CEO who protects the junior staffer in the meeting; that’s leadership.

• Bipartisan muscle memory. Real coalition-building is messy, slow, and unsexy. But the alternative is governance by tantrum. Adults compromise. Children bully.

• Boundaries as public service. You can’t pour from an empty tank—or a constantly outraged nervous system. Boundaries are not selfish; they’re stewardship of your future usefulness.

If you’re tired, you’re not weak—you’re accurate. The system runs on your exhaustion. The antidote is not apathy; it’s structure.

Here’s a 10-minute civic ritual for this week. Set a timer; do it once; feel human again:

1. Name one issue you actually touch (schools, voting access, public health, small business support).

2. One fact check from a credible source. Screenshot it.

3. One action: a call, an email, a $10 donation, or a sign-up for a local meeting.

4. One conversation with someone who doesn’t agree with you 100%—and ask one curiosity question before any rebuttal.

5. One gratitude note to a public servant or educator. They mostly hear complaints.

That’s it. Ten minutes. Then live your life. Feed your friendships. Read the novel. Go for the walk. Make the pasta. We don’t prove our commitment by sacrificing all joy on the altar of seriousness. We prove it by doing consistent, useful things and staying kind in the process.

I’m taking this practice with me on our honeymoon. Before we fly, I’ll send two emails and schedule a small donation. On the road, I’ll tip like I mean it, treat every worker like a neighbor, and keep learning from the people and places we visit. When we return, I’ll get back to the longer fight—with a fuller heart.

Bookmark this line for your week:
Hold joy without abandoning the world. Hold the world without abandoning joy.

In Closing ~ Postmarked and Onward

We’re choosing to live wide-awake: to celebrate what’s tender without looking away from what’s tough.
Postcards from the edge of a honeymoon, a headline, and a new week—proof that joy can fund courage, not replace it.

May your week include a boundary, a belly laugh, and a bench with a view.

Call to Action

• Tell me your two truths. Hit reply with one joy you’re protecting and one hard thing you’re tending.

• Try the 10-minute ritual. Pick one issue, one fact, one action, one conversation, one thank-you—then report back.

• Share a quiet joy in Portugal. Lisbon/Porto/Douro recs—benches, bakeries, bookshops—welcome.

• Leaders, bring this to your team. Forward to one colleague who could use a calmer, kinder operating system—and ask them which postcard hit.

P.S. If you forwarded this, thanks for spreading Radical Kindness.

That’s how we win: consistently, locally, together.