We Got This: A 2025 Mindset
I've heard very few words of advice that fall into the category of “Hell, yes, that makes a difference.”
Of the hundreds of people I’ve interviewed, hundreds more books I’ve read, and too many therapists I’ve consulted, most advice lands in the watching Netflix camp: engaging in the moment but totally forgettable. Or, more precisely, passingly interesting but not life-changing.
Credit: Sue Tucker
One of the few exceptions came two years ago. It was at the tail end of COVID and in the midst of what people called “Snowmageddon.” That word was first used to describe a 2010 blizzard and later a movie. But in the winter of 2022-2023, it also described where I live in California.
Almost 60 feet of snow fell—often a foot a day for days and months on end. December was fun. January felt like a lot of work. February started to get scary. Alerts came over my phone: “Watch for sudden roof collapse.” How one does that, I had no idea. A tree went through a neighbor’s roof. Another neighbor’s house collapsed entirely.
At the same time, my youngest son had a freeride ski competition in Canada. He was 18, and this was his first season competing as an adult. Freeride is somewhat similar to the Olympics’ freestyle skiing, where athletes do wild tricks on massive halfpipes.
But in freeride, skiers do their flips and other tricks using the natural features of a mountain (think big rocks and cliffs.) And, unlike in the Olympics, they don’t get to practice on the features in advance.
My son, an extreme athlete from a very young age, has done this for years, which has turned me into someone who prays, at least when I see what he is doing.
But this time, I couldn’t be there for his competition—among other reasons, because of the threat of sudden roof collapse. So, I prepared myself to watch over Livestream, hoping against hope that the ongoing heavy snowfall wouldn’t make the power go out.
Then I got a text. It was from the mom of another skier, though, as I recall, not one who was competing that day.
She said she was watching and wished my son luck. Then she asked how I was.
“Nervous!” I responded.
She understood. Her son had once seriously injured himself in competition.
“I guess all we can do,” she said, “is have faith that we’ll be able to handle whatever happens.”
Bam. That landed. It was not a Pollyannaish “Everything will be all right” response. And it was not a “Yeah, I’m going to check out” diversion from reality.
It was truth and wise intention combined.
As we stand on the precipice of a new and to many of us unwelcome chapter in America, that’s not a bad way to orient our mindset. Or perhaps to say to ourselves like a mantra, one small reminder that we can rise instead of shrink in the face of challenges.
A bit more concretely, we can set our intention to respond to what 2025 and beyond brings with courage, altruism, and integrity—the essence of ordinary heroism in these extraordinary times.
Of course, aspiration must be matched with effort. We cannot make progress—in a sport, mission-driven work, or anything else in life—without skill development, practice, and a helpful mindset.
That’s why this is the focus of my work in 2025. Please reach out if you’d like to learn more about my talks, coaching, or workshops.
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