Know the Inner Journey, Not Just The Outer Pathway

Many decades ago when I was a high school history teacher, my wife and I attended a workshop for teachers hosted by one of the area educational agencies (AEAs) in Iowa.  This workshop was a multi-day event being taught by a Chinese Tai Ji master named Chungliang Al Huang. He used a wide range of tools to inspire his students: brush calligraphy, music, poetry, mythic story telling, and more. Fundamental to his work were the Five Elements, Tao Te Ching, I-Ching, and other classics in Taoist, Zen Buddhist, and Confucian studies. This approach allowed students to quickly experience the joys of Tai Ji energy flow along with the deeper sensations of stillness in motion.

Every day during the workshop, we did movement work and listened to lectures, plus participated in small group sharing about teaching and learning. During a break, he approached my wife and I, said “You two are very good at this. You should come to my international teaching workshop in Urbana, Illinois in February.”

So, once school started up again, I asked the principal and he said “yes.” I was stunned that he would consider the invitation. But when February rolled around, we drove to Urbana and met people from all over the world. We spent a week in intensive study and learning. And once home, we started teaching weekend workshops. Then, we taught regular Monday night classes for many years.

During our in-depth teacher training sessions, Chungliang would talk about not just doing the form on the outside as much on the inside. As he often reminded us, “the outer action should reflect the inner action.” It was powerful insight.

People who have known me over a long period of time will often ask me if I still practice the form. I respond with a “yes but not the outward form much. Now, I am trying to “be” the form more than “do” the form.

In this stage of my life, I focus on flow, on alignment, and on breath. I seek to find the stillness in the motion. Some days, I am better at it than others, but I keep being aware of my “practice” as I move through my days.

There is one person I know who I believe did align his inner and outer actions, namely my late father in-law. He was born on the farm, and he lived his entire life there accept for the last year or so of his life. He embraced attuning to others, discernment, listening, and sharing.

I think of him often in the morning. When our children were quite young, we routinely visited my in-laws on the farm. On these special weekends, our oldest son, Ryan, would get up very early, get all dressed by himself, and sit on the steps, waiting for his grandfather to come out of his bedroom for morning chores. After a quiet greeting, my father-in-law would put on his green coveralls and his work boots. Next, depending on the season, he would help his grandson bundle up in his winter coat, hat and mittens. Then, together they would walk to the barns to chore. In the early years, this was to feed the cattle. Latter in life, it was to feed the cats and check on wood working projects in his shop in the barn

With his grand children, my father-in-law always took off his right glove and walked “hand in hand” to the barn. Those were soft and leathery hands. They reflected the life of someone who had worked his entire life outdoors.

In December, I think of him and the Winter solstice. He shared with me that on the Winter and the Summer solstice, he would stop on his way back from the barn and watch the sunrise. Twice a year, it would rise right in the middle of the gravel road. And he would watch it rise before heading in for breakfast. Later after the evening chores, he would again stop by the side of the gravel road and watch it set.

One December afternoon, when I was a younger man, we watched the sun set together. There was no talking; we just watched it slowly sink below the western horizon. As we walked back to the house, he quietly said to me, “Now we begin turning to the light.”

This was a man who knew about the unity of the inner form and the outer form. He was a student of integration. He embraced this journey.

From him and others, I have learned that we are all in this together. As Rumi wrote, “We’re all just walking each other home.” The finest people I know grasp this perspective and embrace it. They are the role models of integrated living and working. And I, for one, am most grateful for the impact they have had in my life.

© Geery Howe 2026

Geery Howe, M.A. Executive Coach in Leadership, Strategic Planning, and Organizational Change

Rethink The Idea of Time

There have only been a few periods in my life when time was not a defining characteristic of what was happening within and around me. At those moments, I was not aware of what day of the week it was nor was I focused on the clock and what was coming up next. For me, they were those most special, 100% now moments.

For example, the few days after our first child was born, I didn’t know what day of the week it was, nor did I care. The only thing I noticed was sun rises and sun sets. To this day, I specifically remember the moment I spent laying on the couch with our new born son on my chest, watching the sun rise and touch the entire world outside our living room window. It was so peaceful and so awe inspiring.

The longest periods in my life where “time stopped” happened over the course of four summers. During my college years, I was a summer camp counselor in Vermont. It was more than a job for me. It was a community where I could do “deep battery” recharge after another year of higher education.

The camp was a 100% off the grid experience. We taught simple outdoor living with a focus on wood craft skills, camping skills, crafts, trips, and adventure. Each year, the camp was created in a clearing in the woods. There were no flash lights, watches, clocks, or matches. We lived life by sun rises and sun sets with regular meals defining the day.

During this period of my life, I got very good at telling the time by the sun. I asked everyone who visited, and who wore a watch to cover it up with their hand. Then, I would look up at the sun and guess the time. Often, I often within 10 - 15 minutes. Sometimes, I was spot on.

At the start of every summer, we would light one fire that would last all summer. We started it with a bow and drill. Then, when we went hiking, we often would carry coals from this first fire. Sometimes, we carried a bow & drill as a back up. I liked carrying smoldering coals in a tin can, because the smoke kept the black flies and mosquitos away. And it looked cool.

What made the work at this summer camp experience so powerful for me was that I had found myself, my team, namely the other counselors, and my community. We actively supported each other and encouraged each other to try out new activities. When difficult issues surfaced related camper behavior or when challenging differences of perspective happened between counselors, we came together and committed the time and energy to work through them. In short, there was an “I” but there was an even stronger “we”. The “we” was what made the work so powerful. We were changing lives, and we were trying to make each day a meaningful day for all involved. 

Upon reflection, I think we experience time as a source of pressure. But, when we experience a good and meaningful day, we find the world to be dynamic, connected, and personal.

When I look at the bigger picture, the road ahead is complex. On one level, there will always be big issues and complex challenges. This is normal part of  living and learning. However, with the support of healthy relationships and a healthy community, we can experience a meaningful day at work and at home. A caring community is not bound by time or place.

As Robert Cooper wrote in his book, The Other 90%: How to Unlock Your Vast Untapped Potential For Leadership & Life (Crown Business, 2001), “We all warm ourselves by fires we did not build and drink from wells we did not dig.” If we seek to rethink time, then we need to care for the fires by which we warm ourselves, and to care for the wells we did not dig. And at the exact same time we must build new fires and dig a new wells. Because in the end, these are the experiences we will remember and these are the stories we will tell others. These are the 100% now moments that make all the difference in our life journey.

© Geery Howe 2026

Geery Howe, M.A. Executive Coach in Leadership, Strategic Planning, and Organizational Change

Find Your Constant

Over the decades as an executive coach, many people have shared with me their life challenges. Often, I have listened and recommended that they seek out an experienced counselor to support them through their personal healing process. I do this, because I know that having someone who listens exceptionally well and is professionally trained to deal with certain issues, plus be completely present is a transformative and healing experience.

On my dresser at home, I keep a list of people I know who are struggling. Routinely, I pause in the morning or in the evening and read these names. For a moment, I hold each one of them in a healing light, knowing that prayer helps and is not limited by time or space.

A number of years ago, during the first session of my year long course on leadership and organizational change, a young woman came up to me after class one day and asked if she could visit with me. We found a quiet corner and talked through a variety of work issues related to teamwork and goal setting. It was a good connection, and I enjoyed her thoughtful approach to the challenges before her.

When the class gathered for the second session, I learned that she would not be joining us because her husband had suddenly died at work. Newly married with three step daughters, she was just focused on holding her family together and figuring out life. 

Months later when we gathered for the third session, she returned. It was the end of the first day when she came up to me and asked if we could visit again. 

The next morning, when we sat down for breakfast, she shared what happened and she shared how she had managed the days and weeks after his death. I just listened, because I know the value of being heard. 

During a quiet pause, I asked her what she had learned so far from this journey that she was on. She looked out the window for quite a long time, and then turned toward me and whispered, “God is the constant.”

We sat together in silence and I nodded in agreement. In a world that is constantly changing and evolving, it is good to find and to know your constant. It helps you prioritize what is essential and important. It also helps you move forward in faith. It gives purpose to our lives and helps us discover and recover a sense of wholeness and peace. 

Once home, I added her name to my list. We all need and deserve support during times in our life when there is no map and the road is challenging. 

© Geery Howe 2026

Geery Howe, M.A. Executive Coach in Leadership, Strategic Planning, and Organizational Change

Called To Be Faithful And Supportive

Given all the challenges that take place in our life journey, we must still live and act from a place of kindness and caring. We also must strive to live our lives with the utmost integrity.

Yet, there are times when we get so busy that we forget that our words and our actions make a difference and have an impact. As we interact with others, we want to communicate with them in word and in deed that indicates that we are humble, faithful, supportive, and bold, i.e. as in doing the right things. This begins with our ability to be present to what is happening around us and within us. It also comes from our ability to role model and to find our voice.

As the late Stephen Covey wrote in his book, The 8th Habit: From Effectiveness to Greatness (Free Press, 2004), the 8th habit is to “find your voice and inspire others to find theirs…. it is the nexus of talent, passion, need and conscience (that still small voice within that assures you of what is right and that prompts you to actually do it).”

For quite a long time, I have thought about this idea of finding your voice. As part of this process, we need to be able to speak our fears, listen to the fears of others, share our vulnerabilities, and as a result discover our common ground, especially our common journeys. Years ago, Laurie Patton, the president of Middlebury College captured this concept when she asked the following question: “What is the story you are working on that doesn’t have an ending yet?” 

Many years ago, a client of mine was traveling through Iowa and asked if we could meet for breakfast. So, I picked one of my favorite places to eat and asked him to meet me there.

When we walked in the door that morning, one of the wait staff came over and warmly greeted me. My client was quite surprised.

“There must be a story behind that,” he commented to me once we sat down. 

“Yes,” I replied. “Years ago, my wife and I were dog sitting for a friend. The dog was an experienced therapy dog and very used to being out in public with people. So, we brought the dog here with us one summer morning and ate at an outside table. 

On that particular morning, many of the staff stopped by to say ‘hi’ to us and to pet the dog. In the process, they shared with us their life experiences with dogs. This began a journey of sharing every time we come here.”

We ordered breakfast and the person who greeted us came around with a fresh pot of coffee to refill our cups. I paused in our conversation and thanked him for such good service. My client told him that he was impressed with the service here, too.

Then, our waiter shared about his recent challenges. “I am 40 years old, married, with two elementary aged school children, and I am taking three classes at the community college, working full time, and about to transfer to the University.”

My client shared that he went to community college too, and then transferred to a University. “It was a good choice,” he commented.

“Good to know”, the waiter responded.

“I know you are doing the best you can with the challenges you have,” I added. He nodded in appreciation of the support. 

Our combined messages to him that morning were we see you, we hear you, we feel what you are feeling, and we respect you. This is the power and importance of being fully present to another person. I am present to your suffering. I am present to your joy. But most of all, I am present to you, bearing witness to what we both know, namely the importance being committed to living out of truth and respect.

As leaders, we can get so wrapped up in busy that we forget that “the most difficult work of leadership involves learning to experience distress without numbing yourself”, notes, Ron Heifetz, and Marty Linsky in their book, Leadership On The Line: Staying Alive through the Dangers of Leading (Harvard Business School Press, 2002). We forget, that “the form doesn't matter” because “any form of service to others is an expression, essentially, of love.” As they continue, “Exercising leadership is a way of giving meaning to your life by contributing to the lives of others. At its best, leadership is a labor of love.”

From my perspective, we are all a part of a great creative journey. We are all walking into the unknown and unpredictable future. We are all vulnerable and stronger than we think. 

And on this journey, we can always help each other. We can always act from our compassion. We can remember our oneness.

In the big picture, our real struggle is a spiritual one. Are we humans having spiritual experiences, or are we spiritual beings having human experiences? The answer is that we are all called to be faithful. We are all called to reclaim our common humanity. We are all called to build and maintain genuine communities of love, compassion, and connections. We are called to find our voice, and use it for the greater good.

© Geery Howe 2026

Geery Howe, M.A. Executive Coach in Leadership, Strategic Planning, and Organizational Change

Listen to Your Heart

My life as a consultant, executive coach and trainer all started, on one level, with a dream, a most terrifying dream, and a loving, supportive and kind woman, my wife Jane.

When I finished five years of teaching high school history, I was exhausted and burned out. It was not just a physical or emotional thing. It was a whole life thing, and I just needed to move on. 

So, I searched for a new job and finally found one in the trades. Every day, I went to work. I tried to be happy in the new job but, upon reflection, I was just going through the motions.

Then, one August night, I woke up covered in a cold sweat, hyperventilating, and terrified. I was shaking so badly that I woke up my wife Jane.

“Are you alright?”, she asked.

“No,” I responded.”

“What happened?”

“I just dreamed that my boss was about to cut out my heart.”

“Wow. What is the message of this dream?”

“I need to listen to my heart.”

“What is it saying?”

“I need to quit this job.”

“Okay.” And with that she rolled over and went back to sleep.

Once I had recovered my breath, I lay in bed and realized I had just made a huge decision. I was married and we had a child under the age of one. And I had no idea where I was going in life or what I was supposed to be doing. I just knew that I was way off my path. I was not where I needed to be. So, in the morning, I gave notice. And shortly thereafter, I came home. 

I framed up the first week of not working as a vacation. This was much needed as I had finished teaching one day and the next day started in the trades. But after a week of vacation, I needed to figure out what to do with my life. 

So, every morning after breakfast, five days a week, I would walk up the steps to the landing on the second floor of our home, sit down at a small table with my college, electric typewriter, and write a letter.

The first line of the letter was always the same: “Dear God. This is Geery…”. And I would write and write until I had nothing left to say on that day. Then, I would put the letter in a folder, and go downstairs to engage with the day. I did this week after week, and slowly the path before me became clear.

James Kouzes and Barry Posner in their book, A Leader’s Legacy (Jossey-Bass, 2006), wrote “There’s solid evidence that the best leaders are highly attuned to what’s going on inside themselves as they are leading and to what’s going on with others. They’re very self-aware and they’re very socially aware... leadership development is first and foremost self-development.” 

I believe that the best people are also highly attuned to what’s going on inside themselves and to what’s going on with others. As Kevin Cashman wrote so many years ago, “If you want to become a better leader, you must become a better person.” Truer words have not been shared. And in life’s journey, becoming a better person is paramount.

I have learned that in order to become a better person listening to the heart is critical. It helps us to know the difference between what is and what is not essential. That is the essence of life’s journey, namely figuring out what is essential. I have learned from this life journey that what is most essential is all of the small stuff: listening, kindness, compassion, respect, and love. It is all about family and friends, children and grand children. 

Some would say that these are the “soft skills” of life. I, on the other hand, have come to conclusion that these are the hardest of hard skills. It involves seeking wholeness rather than fragmentation as the foundation of one’s life. It involves learning, unlearning and relearning. It requires resilience more than effectiveness. Listening to one’s heart requires us to be present to our life journey, and to move forward with faith.

© Geery Howe 2026

Geery Howe, M.A. Executive Coach in Leadership, Strategic Planning, and Organizational Change

The Road Is Not The Journey

As many of my current and former clients and students know, I like to tell stories. I also like to listen to stories. I find them fascinating and intriguing, influential and powerful. I grew up in a family of story tellers and I suspect I have passed this on to both of our sons. 

Now, Some of my stories are quite long. Others are dramatic. And some are just crazy, comical and delightfully insightful.

After decades of consulting, teaching and many years of living and learning, I have come to the conclusion that we are wired as human beings to connect, understand, and remember stories, not just statistics or data. John Kotter, author of The Heart of Change: Real-Life Stories of How People Change Their Organizations (Harvard Business School Press, 2002), wrote: “The single most important message in this book is very simple. People change what they do less because they are given analysis that shifts their thinking than because they are shown a truth that influences their feelings. The flow of see-feel-change is more powerful than that of analysis-think-change.” From my experience, I believe the flow of story telling, namely hear-feel-change, is just as powerful and transformative as the see-feel-change process.

For many years when I was traveling and teaching, people would come up to me once I had told a story and say, “Geery - you got to write those stories down.” So, in late 2017 and early 2018, I sat down and started writing. The result was the booklet in the From Vision to Action Series called “The Map Is Not The Road”. It was a legacy project for me and important step in my journey personally and professionally.

Then, on June 1, 2018, after the booklet was published, I sat down for coffee with one of my Kitchen Table Cabinet people and gave him a copy. He looked at the cover, paused and said to me, “The road is not the journey, Geery.” And thus, I started a multi-year journey of reflection, many conversations, a vast amount of reading, and many cups of coffee and sharing, all of which has led me to new insights and greater perspective.

According to the dictionary, a road is defined as “a means to an end; a static creation; a way to overcome obstacles; the creation of an engineer.” On the other hand, a journey is defined as “a process over time” and it involves intent and choices. It also involves movement, but not always moving.

Our life is a journey, be that physical, mental, emotional, social, and ultimately spiritual. Our life is the sum of all the experiences we have had to date. It is a journey of highly interconnected relationships, experiences, and choices.

During the coming days and weeks of this new year, we need to remember that we are all a part of one, great big, never ending story. I am one small part of something really quite big. We are all a small part of something really quite big. 

I think acknowledging this gives us the foundation to do two of the hardest things in the world, be that in the world of leadership or in our personal lives. First, we must start from the place of respecting all people, no matter the situation. My late brother-in-law Warren role modeled this so well. He never met a stranger in his life journey. And, second, we must remember that we are all connected, no matter our class, our privilege or our experiences. You and I are on the same journey. We are part of a larger whole.

During the following days and weeks, I will be sharing with you in this blog some important lessons I have learned in my life journey. The first lesson will begin on Tuesday. Until then, contemplate what lessons you have learned recently that you want to remember as we begin another collective journey around the sun. 

© Geery Howe 2026

Geery Howe, M.A. Executive Coach in Leadership, Strategic Planning, and Organizational Change