Food For Thought
Ideas that don’t fit neatly anywhere else—but still matter
There’s a moment most mornings—usually with coffee in hand—when a thought wanders in that doesn’t know where it belongs. It’s not quite business strategy. Not quite life advice. Not a clean metaphor about leverage or time or live-edge wood. It’s just… a thought. Half-formed. Slightly unruly. Carrying a bit of sawdust on its shoes.
That’s where Food For Thought comes in.
Think of this as the long table at the back of the shop. The one with coffee rings, a few pencil marks, and a chair that squeaks when you sit down. This is where ideas land when they don’t fit neatly into my other publications—but still feel worth sharing. Observations from a life spent thinking big picture and getting my hands dirty. Reflections that come from building companies, advising leaders, writing books, making mistakes, fixing them, and occasionally realizing—five years too late—what the lesson actually was.
I’ve spent decades straddling two worlds. One foot in marketing, management and consulting. The other in workshops, startups, and projects where if you don’t do the work yourself, the work doesn’t get done. That combination has a way of producing thoughts that don’t behave. They cross categories. They refuse tidy labels. And they usually show up when you’re not trying to be profound—just paying attention.
“Wisdom often arrives disguised as an inconvenience.”
Food For Thought is where I collect those moments.
Sometimes it will be a short essay sparked by a conversation, a book, or something I noticed while planing a piece of wood or rereading an old journal. Sometimes it might be a contrarian take that didn’t quite belong anywhere else. Sometimes it’s a question I don’t have an answer to yet—but I suspect is worth asking anyway.
This publication will start as a monthly newsletter, with the occasional mid-month piece when something refuses to wait. No rigid schedule. No forced output. Just ideas that feel ready enough to be shared—still warm, but not raw.
You won’t find lectures here. I’ve never believed wisdom sticks when it’s delivered from a podium. It tends to land better when it shows up sideways—over a drink, mid-story, or halfway through a mistake. If there’s a common thread, it’s curiosity. About how people make decisions. How time changes outcomes. How experience compounds. And how often the most useful lessons show up after the fact.
“The big picture is easier to see once you’ve been close enough to scrape your knuckles.”
Some of this thinking will echo themes you may recognize from my other writing—leverage, long horizons, lived experience, and the quiet advantage of having done things the hard way. But Food For Thought is intentionally looser. Less polished. More like notes in the margin than chapters in a book.
If my other publications are well-built pieces of furniture, this one is the workbench itself.
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