
So here we are. Two major moves in one year.
An office we’re being asked to leave and a home we’ve been waiting years to enter. Different journeys, same lesson: sometimes growth begins with letting go of what’s familiar and trusting what’s next.
Last month, I changed two addresses. ReEmployAbility is relocating its headquarters, and after nearly two years of renovations, Phil and I are finally moving into our new home. On the surface, one is a business move, and one is personal. But the more I’ve reflected on them, the more I’ve realized they’re teaching me many of the same lessons about leadership, decision-making, patience, trust, and the people who help us navigate change.
After seven years in our current office, we’re moving again.
Moves are not new for us. As we’ve grown, we’ve relocated several times. But this one wasn’t part of the plan. In fact, I thought our current space would be our last move.
I love this space.
It’s where we’ve grown, solved problems, celebrated milestones, and welcomed team members and clients who have become friends. We celebrated our 20th company anniversary here. We navigated COVID together here. We’ve hosted holiday parties and epic Halloween family events. We’ve watched employees earn promotions, pursue new opportunities, and begin exciting new chapters of their lives. We’ve welcomed new faces, said tearful goodbyes to others, and shared countless moments that make up the story of our company.
Like most things that last for several years, it’s filled with memories.
But our landlord sold the property, and soon apartments will stand where our office sits today.
My initial reaction was probably the same reaction many leaders have when confronted with unexpected change. I saw it as a problem to solve and a major distraction from the work that mattered most.
What does this mean? How quickly do we need to act? What are the risks? What’s the plan?
Leadership often requires decisive action, but experience has taught me that not every challenge is solved by immediately charging forward. Sometimes the best decision is to accept reality, gather the facts, understand your options, and trust that an unexpected change may ultimately create opportunities you cannot yet see.
As we began planning the move, something became very clear. This wasn’t the move I was making. It was a move WE were making.
Our leadership team immediately stepped up. Employees took ownership of major initiatives. People volunteered to solve problems before they were asked. What could have easily become a burden became a reminder that leadership is not about carrying everything yourself. It’s about building a team capable of carrying the organization through change together.
That lesson wasn’t limited to the office.
It showed up again during our home renovation.
After two long years, Phil and I are finally moving into our renovated home. Ironically, he was the one who saw the vision first. I had a much harder time seeing what the house could become. It took some imagination and more than a little convincing before I fully bought into the dream.
Looking back, that feels a lot like leadership.
Sometimes we know change is necessary long before we can clearly see the destination. We know we need to pivot, evolve, invest, or take a different path, but we don’t always have a crystal-clear picture of how everything will turn out. We move forward because we believe the vision (or our spouse does!) is worth pursuing, even when we can’t yet see all the details.
What started as an exciting renovation quickly became an exercise in endurance.
Over the past two years, we’ve navigated permitting challenges, design revisions, equipment delays, contractor schedules, furniture backorders, inspections, and countless unforeseen hurdles. Then, almost immediately after purchasing the house, Hurricanes Helene and Milton changed everything. What began as a renovation project quickly became a lesson in adaptability as storm-related disruptions created delays in contractors, permitting, inspections, scheduling, and nearly every aspect of the project. Timelines shifted, expectations had to be reset, and what we thought would take one year ultimately took two.
At some point, every major project reaches a phase where the finish line felt no closer than it did months before. Excitement gave way to frustration. Progress felt invisible. Timelines shift. Expectations have to be reset.
And then there’s decision fatigue. Paint colors. Fixtures. Flooring. Furniture. Layouts. OH MY! You make hundreds of decisions and somehow discover there are hundreds more waiting for you.
As much as I wanted to push harder, solve faster, and control the outcome, I learned a difficult truth: some things simply take the time they take.
Patience isn’t passive. Patience is continuing to show up when progress feels slow. It’s trusting the process when the timeline disappoints you. It’s making the next right decision while acknowledging that some variables remain entirely outside your control.
But patience alone isn’t enough. Patience requires trust. Trust in the destination. Trust in the process. And perhaps most importantly, trust in the people around you.
Our designers, contractors, project managers, and countless other professionals brought expertise we simply didn’t have. The finished product is the result of talented people doing what they do best.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized both moves were teaching the same lesson.
No meaningful transformation happens alone.
Whether you’re moving a company, renovating a home, launching a new technology initiative, or leading organizational change, success is rarely the result of one person’s effort. It comes from the collective contributions of people who bring different perspectives, skills, and expertise to the table.
In the office move, it was our leadership team, employees, partners, and colleagues who helped move the vision forward.
In the home renovation, it was designers, contractors, project managers, and craftsmen who turned ideas into reality.
The same principle applies to every successful organization. None of us reach the next level alone. We get there because of the people who stand beside us, challenge us, support us, and contribute their talents to something bigger than themselves.
Another lesson from this season of change is that change creates clarity.
Whether you’re packing up an office or moving into a new home, you’re forced to make decisions. What stays? What goes? What deserves a place in the future?
The same thing happens in organizations.
Over time, businesses accumulate processes, traditions, habits, assumptions, and initiatives. Some continue creating value. Others remain simply because they’ve always been there.
Periods of transition provide a unique opportunity to evaluate both.
Not every transformation is about adding something new. Sometimes growth comes from having the discipline to let go of what no longer serves the mission. Every move, whether personal or professional, forces us to decide what is worth carrying forward.
Perhaps the biggest lesson of all is that buildings don’t create culture. People do.
I’ve loved this office. We’ve become attached to the building because it has been the backdrop for an important chapter of our story. But when I think about what made it special, it wasn’t the walls, the conference rooms, or the address.
It was the people.
It was the trust we built, the challenges we navigated, the milestones we celebrated, the laughter we shared, and the mission that united us. Culture doesn’t live in a building. Culture travels with the people who create it.
The same is true at home.
After two years of renovations, delays, disrupted routines, and more decisions than I can count, I’m reminded that a house doesn’t become a home because of beautiful finishes or updated spaces (although that doesn’t hurt!). Home is where your people are. It’s where family gathers, traditions are created, and memories are made and I can’t wait to make new ones starting with our first holiday, Thanksgiving.
As leaders, we naturally focus on the logistics of change. We think about timelines, budgets, risks, plans, schedules, and execution. Those things matter. But what matters even more is maintaining trust, protecting morale, and helping people remain connected to the vision during the long stretch between where they are and where they’re going.
When I look back on these two moves, that’s the lesson I’ll remember most.
The office move wasn’t really about relocating a company. The home renovation wasn’t really about construction. Both were lessons in leadership. Both required making decisions with incomplete information, adapting when circumstances changed, exercising patience when progress felt slow, and trusting people whose expertise was greater than my own.
Most importantly, both reminded me that every meaningful transformation is ultimately a people story.
This year I’m making two major moves. One I didn’t choose. One I couldn’t wait for.
And while the addresses are changing, the things that matter most are coming with me.
The relationships. The culture. The lessons. The memories.
Because every major move eventually asks the same question: What are you carrying forward?


