What We Miss When We Focus Only on the Outcome

Among the leaders I work with, there is a quiet but consistent pattern:
a relentless focus on the destination.

Deadlines. Outcomes. Milestones. What’s next?

Recently, I was reminded how much that mindset can cost us.

They say Marfa has a kind of light that makes sunrise and dusk feel almost surreal. The sky shifts to a gentle peachy pink, stretching across the desert in a way that makes you want to slow down and really take it in.

I was ready to do exactly that.

But I was traveling with teenagers, so instead we found ourselves hiking in the Fort Davis Mountains.

As we made our way up the trail, I kept stopping. The views were vast in a way that felt almost disorienting. The kind of landscape that makes you pause and wonder how long it has existed, how it was formed, and how anything grows there at all.

And every time I stopped, someone would say: "We’re a third of the way there." "What does the map say?" "How much longer?”

And then one comment stuck with me: Well arrive at the end soon.

It struck me how instinctual that is — measuring progress, focusing on completion, and orienting ourselves toward the finish line.

It’s the same pattern I see in many of the leaders I work with.

The pressure to move quickly, decide efficiently, and produce outcomes.

And while those things matter, they can come at a cost.

We miss what is right in front of us.

Not just the external world, but something deeper—our own internal connection. Our why.

We talk often about how people are disconnected. Sitting at dinner, scrolling on their phones instead of engaging with each other.

But what I see more often is a disconnection from self.

Who are we when we are not producing?
Who are we when we are not leading, solving, or managing?
What actually brings us joy?

At one point in my life, I wrote a poem about losing my ability to play, and there's one line I still think about: "Whatever happened to that cartwheel-loving, roll-down-the-hill kind of girl?”

It wasn’t that joy and play became complicated; it was that, somewhere along the way, we learned to prioritize something else.

The world has rewarded many of us for our discipline, drive, and ability to deliver. But standing on that mountain, it became clear to me that none of that is necessary to experience what is already here. Beauty isn't earned. It is simply recognized.

So, some questions I’ve been pondering, and that I now ask the leaders I work with:

What might you notice if you made more space to take in the view along the way? And more importantly: Who are you when you remember to reconnect with what brings you joy?

The questions and the clarity they bring empower us to lead more authentically.