Recently, I held a goal-setting masterclass for a group of accomplished women. Each a powerhouse in her own right. Shortly after I began, I asked a simple question: "Why set goals?" The responses varied, but one stopped me. A woman I'll call Lara said, "To have purpose." Her answer took me back to the hundreds of coaching conversations I've had about purpose—conversations with intelligent, successful people who carry a quiet ache.

I coach two kinds of women.The first are women who have arrived—externally, at least. They've built the career, the family, the life. By every measure, they've succeeded. And yet something feels off. They come to me not to build more, but to finally feel what they thought success would deliver: peace, ease, joy. Last week, I wrote about the woman who has already built that life—and still feels like something is missing. This article is for the ‘other’ women.

She's a woman who would have openly—not covertly, not quietly—ruled the world if she had been born a man. She is ambitious, smart, and seeks transcendence as much as the next great worldly experience. She wants it all but has come to understand that she can't have it all at the same time. This has created a constant and existential sense of hurry inside her. She doesn't like that feeling, but cannot seem to get rid of it.

Recently, a friend—who is also a Professional Coach—asked me to share a piece of wisdom that has been a powerful force in my life. I explained that wisdom isn’t just knowledge—it’s metabolized insight we share with others. From “This, too, shall pass” to learning to become anti-fragile, these are lessons that guide how I navigate challenges, presence, and growth.

Recently, a friend—who is also a Professional Coach—asked me to share a piece of wisdom that has been a powerful force in my life. I explained that wisdom isn’t just knowledge—it’s metabolized insight we share with others. From “This, too, shall pass” to learning to become anti-fragile, these are lessons that guide how I navigate challenges, presence, and growth.

A few months ago, I applied to a high-level program I'm deeply interested in but is outside my present field of expertise. Many around me couldn't understand why I would do such a thing. I heard all kinds of feedback like, "Where are you going to find the time for this commitment?" and "To what end do you even want to do this?"

I wrote the piece, as I always do, simply to share my own experience. But clearly, my experience is far more universal than I imagined—or it wouldn't have struck such a chord. The most common request? Tell us more about the "Mensch Code." So I went to the original source—my son—and asked him to share more about this evolving playbook for becoming a successful, honorable, and fulfilled man.

My son is presently studying at Aish, a yeshiva in Jerusalem. He had dipped his toe into religious studies here and there after graduating from college, but it wasn't until about a year ago that he decided to go all in. Many of you—my clients, readers, and listeners—are also friends and family. As such, you may know a little or a lot about my son.

Last week, a friend who is always rushing from one thing to another said in passing, "Yeah, I think I can squeeze that in." I don't remember what the object being "squeezed in" was, but I do remember my own exceedingly negative response. "Please don't," I said. "For goodness' sake, please stop squeezing things into your life!" Needless to say, she was taken aback by my (over)reaction.

A few weeks ago, at a lovely luncheon, I had the unexpected pleasure of sitting next to a woman I've known on and off for over a decade. A more truthful statement would be that I've not so much "known" her as "watched" her over these many years. This is a woman who is a legitimate force of nature. She is creating transformations in the world that most governments cannot.

In 2026, I will celebrate a decade as a Professional Life Coach. I've sat across from CEOs and new mothers, artists and executives, twenty-somethings in crisis and seventy-somethings in reinvention. I've done my best to help each of them build more successful lives. But the truth is, each one has helped me more than they'll ever know.

So much happens in a year. Almost none of us realize it unless we consciously and deliberately slow down to look. I often can't remember what I accomplished last week, let alone six months ago. High-achieving people, in particular, rush through life, checking boxes and moving on. But this habit has a cost: we lose track of how far we've come, and we keep investing in things that aren't working.

If I could retire on the number of times a client has asked me to help them find their life’s purpose, I'd be writing this from a beach in Portugal! Here's the problem: in our generation, the concept of "Life Purpose" has been inflated to such mythic proportions that even thinking about it is exhausting. That's why most people get stuck in the thinking phase forever.

Your daughter comes home from school, fighting back tears. A friend humiliated her in front of everyone. Your heart breaks for her, and before she's even finished the story, you hear yourself saying: "I'm sure she didn't mean it that way. Maybe she was just having a bad day. Look on the bright side—at least you have other friends who..." And just like that, you've done it again. You've turned her pain into a lesson in positive thinking.

Linda has everything she once dreamed of—a beautiful home, financial freedom, and a loving family. She's deeply grateful for all of it. And yet, in quiet moments, a voice whispers: "I want more." Immediately, another voice responds: "You should be grateful for what you have. Who do you think you are, wanting more?" Does this sound familiar?

When I was a newbie Coach, fresh out of school—three of them actually—I was certain good coaching was all about helping my clients develop productive skills and habits. Soon after, I realized that all the skill and habit-building in the world doesn’t make a real difference if we don’t address the limiting—and often harmful—mindsets that hold people back from reaching their goals.

Perk up your ears and notice how often you hear yourself say "I'm so stupid." Most of us do it without consciousness. But there's a Self inside us that deserves recognition—one that wants a deep and meaningful conversation with us, like we do with a life partner. When we call the Self "stupid," we steal its ability to grow and learn. "Stupid" is not a real thing—it's an excuse to not be conscious and not do the work.

When kids are young, we love to tell them what not to do. Research shows that an average toddler hears the word “no” around 400 times a day! A more conservative study estimates the number at 8,395 per year, or an average of 23 per day. Whichever study you choose to believe, it’s evident we LOVE to say no, don’t, and can’t to our kids. And that’s not a good thing.

What do you give a woman who has everything? Perhaps, a ball of dough? I grudgingly admit that I am a terrible gift receiver. I worked in the 'material' world for so long that more 'things' just make me anxious, not happy. Like so many of you in my community, I have never wanted for anything material.

If you describe yourself as driven, high-achieving and ambitious, you've probably drunk the Kool-Aid—and you're dealing with a hangover that never seems to go away. After four decades of chasing "more, faster, better," I discovered the hard way that this path doesn't lead to success. It leads to burnout. This is what I learned about the counterintuitive damage of endless ambition, and how "enough" is actually a decision—not a feeling.