There’s a quiet assumption many of us carry— that clarity will come first. That confidence will arrive.That the path will feel steady.That fear will settle. And then we’ll begin. But that’s not how it works. Especially not now.Especially not in moments like this—when budgets are tight, teams are stretched, and the future feels harder to read than usual. We tell ourselves to wait until things stabilize.Until we feel more certain.Until the fear quiets down. But if history tells

Unlocking the Answers: Over the past few days, I shared three reflections, not as riddles to solve, but as clues pointing to patterns that show up again and again in leadership and fundraising. Here’s what those clues were quietly pointing toward, and why they matter. Clue# 1: What do fundraisers assume they have, but few actually do? This clue was about shared clarity. As Duke Haddad writes, nonprofits must show donors, and all stakeholders, that their gifts are investments

Earlier in my career, while leading development at a school, we helped launch a farming program. I had seedlings growing in my office under purple grow lights. I worried about power outages like they were a capital campaign risk — and sometimes sat with donors bathed in a soft purple glow. More than once, I was asked: “Why is that the Development Office’s job?” It’s a fair question. On paper, fundraising can look separate from academics, operations, or enrollment. But in prac

I was in a meeting this week when someone said it plainly: “It’s going to be a downturn year.” No drama. No panic. Just matter-of-fact. And almost immediately, the energy shifted. You could feel it. The conversation moved toward doing less. Pulling back. Turning inward. Should we scale down events? Pause initiatives? Tighten communication? Wait this out? No one said it directly, but the posture was clear: Brace. I left that meeting thinking about something different. Retrenc

Most fundraising conversations move too quickly.  I think this comes from the pressure of the job, pressure to get to the goal. It’s something I’m reminded of often by Scout and the patience she teaches me. From urgency → to strategy → to the ask. What often gets skipped is the squishy part, the moment when belief is still forming and people aren’t quite ready to act, even if they care deeply. This is where leaders get uncomfortable. The answers aren’t crisp yet. The language

People don’t give because they’ve been convinced.They give because they’ve caught something. Belief is contagious, but only when it’s real. And human. Donors don’t just connect to a mission; they connect to who you are . They expect leaders to embody the work, not just describe it. (A big job, I know.) One of the most common fundraising challenges I see isn’t a lack of commitment. It’s cautious leadership energy. Leaders care deeply, but they hold back, worried about over-pro

Some of you know the stories about my wildly dysregulated dog, Scout. She once ate an entire avocado — pit and all. She’s afraid of school buses, loud noises, and mostly everything that happens during daylight. Progress comes slowly, often in pauses, false starts, and a lot of patience. I sometimes think the universe sent her my way to teach me how to breathe, how to wait for things to pass, and how to recognize what doesn’t need to be done today — what can wait for a calmer

I’m intentional about how — and when — I share my thinking publicly. Over time, I’ve learned that some ideas need room, and occasionally they need a place to land outside my own head. This blog is that space for me. A place to notice patterns, hold questions a little longer, and share observations about how generosity, leadership, and trust actually function in practice. Clients sometimes laugh about how late the timestamps are on my emails. That’s usually the moment I realiz