On someone’s very first day at Pivota, we tell them something most companies avoid saying out loud: 

You will make mistakes here. 

You’ll make a few small ones and probably a few big ones too. That isn’t a failure. That’s reality.

How many dominos do you think it would take to knock over the Empire State Building?

Pause for a second and pick a number. Don’t scroll until you have a number in mind. I promise this makes the exercise so much more rewarding.

I’ve been in two situations where people have been asked this. Some said thousands, millions, others said zero as if it was not possible.

This time of year usually comes with a familiar pressure to add more.

New goals. New routines. New commitments. New plans for how we will finally do everything better.

But lately, I’ve been thinking about a different approach. What if growth this year is not about adding anything at all?

What if it is about taking more away.

One of the hardest hiring lessons to learn is this: talent alone is not enough.

On paper, someone can check every box. The portfolio, the certifications, the confidence in their abilities. You look at their experience and think, “finally, someone who can take this off my plate”. But then the work begins, and you realize something much more important is missing.

Values.

As we move into Thanksgiving week, I’ve been thinking a lot about gratitude. Not the kind you list off quickly, but the kind that shows up when life feels heavy.

The kind that shows up on the long days. The overwhelming days. The “nothing is working the way I planned” days.

Before my trip to China, I would have defined successful progress as fast, competitive, and a little chaotic.

The kind of growth that feels like a race, where speed and disruption are the benchmarks of success.

After spending two weeks there, I gained a new appreciation for what progress can look like when it’s collective.

You are the sum of your five closest friends.

Not because you copy their choices exactly, but because proximity shapes possibility. Their habits rub off. Their ceilings become your ceilings. Their language shapes what you think is possible.

The Jewish calendar marks time differently than the one hanging on most of our walls. Instead of January, the year begins in the fall with Rosh Hashanah, literally, the “head of the year.” It’s both a celebration and a spiritual reset, often marked by eating apples dipped in honey to symbolize the hope for sweetness ahead.

But unlike a typical New Year’s Eve, Rosh Hashanah isn’t just about festive beginnings.

When I was struggling to scale my company, most of my challenges came from my team. At the time, every obstacle felt heavy: a missed deadline, a lack of communication, a mistake that created ripple effects. My first thought was always, This is so hard. I’m so drained.

Then a coach gave me a simple but game-changing piece of advice: “Instead, tell yourself, ‘This is easy to fix.’”

If you stepped away from your business for three weeks, what would happen?

Would sales still come in? Would clients feel supported? Or would everything pause the second you stop showing up?

The truth is, most of us build businesses that depend too heavily on us being present. We hold the knowledge, we manage the decisions, and we carry the weight. Which works… until it doesn’t.