Take a moment, close your eyes, and imagine that you are at the end of the spring semester rather than at its beginning. Perhaps you are donning your cap and gown in preparation for Commencement or cleaning up your desk before summer break. And imagine as well that you are doing these things with a sense of pride in how you managed your work over the last four months. You are saying to yourself, “Wow, this semester was really a success.” You know that it wasn’t perfect, and you may still have problems to solve, but overall, you are feeling great. In your hand, you have a list of the things to crow about—even if only to yourself. The three or four things on this list are the impactful results of your hard work and the work you inspire in others. They aren’t magical solutions, such as winning the lottery. They are actual results of your plans, activities, and accomplishments. Some of these items might be old friends. Some might surprise you. Some might be ones you would never share with another soul. Now open your eyes and actually write that list down. 

A pre-vision exercise like this can help clarify where to aim your energy and attention. Starting with a desired feeling rather than a list of to-dos really helps you focus on the most impactful possibilities. When I did this for myself, I came up with a list of four concrete things that would really give me a sense of “wow.”  Four seemed like too many to actually handle, so I crossed one off and wound up with a final list of three. I won’t share them all, but here is one of mine: I’ve delivered well on the speaking and writing engagements to which I am committed this spring.  

Now that you have a list of pre-visioned goals, use it to structure your work over the coming months. As leaders, our most precious resource is our time and attention. If I want my pre-vision to become a reality by June, then I have to be ready to put as much of my focus on these things as possible and bring those I collaborate with most closely along. This might mean sunsetting some projects, putting others on the back burner, delegating other important goals, or being very efficient in other areas. Every day I can ask myself if I moved the things on this list forward, and I can regularly notice what throws me off track. 

A few things will make this exercise even more useful. Avoid making your list too long. If you try to do everything, you will miss the most important things. Be realistic about how you need to structure your days. For example, I do my best writing at home, so I need to keep some clear writing time available on days when I am not in the office. I travel a lot and need to think about which of my goals I can advance on the road, and which are better saved for days I am on a more regular schedule. Finally, make sure to revisit your pre-vision regularly. You want to make sure that the goals you set continue to be the ones that will truly lead to success.  

Questions for reflection: Are there differences between my pre-vision goals and the things I think I am “supposed” to do? Which of my goals do I want to share with others and which do I prefer to keep to myself? How will I make mental and physical space to deal with urgent and unexpected matters without sacrificing progress on my pre-vision goals? Which of my goals can I accomplish on my own and which ones need me to lead a team?

Journalist and mediator Amanda Ripley offered a deep analysis of how healthy conflict turns dangerous as well as practical advice for leading in ways that foster dialogue and connection. Her presentation was wise, useful, and engaging. I highly recommend her book, High Conflict: Why We Get Trapped and How We Get Out. (Simon & Schuster, 2021)

The annual Presidents Institute in early January brought hundreds of CIC presidents together for several days of learning and conversation. Among the hottest topics: expanding the ways we serve and support our local communities, deploying AI effectively, the new administration’s higher ed agenda, and creating campus climates that foster meaningful engagement around difficult issues.  

We are fortunate to have Barbara Mistick at the helm of CIC's sister association, the National Association of Independent Colleges and Universities (NAICU). Focusing exclusively on federal policy affecting independent colleges and universities, NAICU advocates for student aid and other federal programs that support access and success for students.

A Spark of Inspiration

Regular readers may recall that in lieu of new year’s resolutions, I annually choose a word to guide my attention. Last year, my word was “awe,” which encouraged me to learn about the science of awe and invite awe into my awareness more often. This year, my word is “Tikvah,” the Hebrew word for hope. I am using the Hebrew version because the English word “hope” can sometimes feel too closely connected to wishing for a particular outcome. The hope I am thinking about this year is more open. More patient. More of an acknowledgement that the future contains possibilities beyond my knowledge and control yet still within my ability to respond.    

As spiritual teacher Ram Dass is reported to have said in one of his lectures, “I’ve been asked many times whether this is the Aquarian Age and it is all just beginning, or if this is Armageddon and this is the end. And I have to admit I don’t know … whichever way it goes, my work is the same…to quiet my mind and open my heart and relieve suffering wherever I find it.” 

Philosopher Byung-Chul Han puts it in a different way: “The substance of hope is a deep conviction that something is meaningful … Hope is located in the transcendent, beyond the inner-worldly course of events. As a faith, it makes possible to act amidst absolute despair.” (Han, The Spirit of Hope)

Tikvah/hope connotes the kind of non-expectant waiting I recall from pregnancy and awaiting a child. Something new is emerging. Predicting or wishing for a specific outcome (e.g., “I hope it’s a girl,” “I hope he likes to play baseball,” or “I hope she has brown eyes”) is too narrow. Who cares about those limiting outcomes? And even hoping for a healthy outcome feels limiting, as though I would only love a physically perfect child. The expectant hope of natality is instead the confidence that whatever happens, whatever is to come, I will make my life larger and the world more meaningful. That’s the kind of hope I want to practice this year. It’s the precarious but essential work of standing in the space of not knowing—even in the space of fear—and yet committing to make meaning, express love, and find a spark of goodness no matter what unfolds. 

Conceived in Hope: The Struggles of Biblical Mothers in the Tapestry of Redemption by Chana Tannenbaum (Maggid, 2024) 

A lyrical and insightful interpretation of the many models the Torah offers of hope and a reminder of the ways that birth functions as a metaphor for a hopeful future. 

What Alive Means: Psychoanalytic Explorations by Thomas H. Ogden (Routledge, 2025) 

This collection of short essays is a quirky but readable introduction to contemporary psychoanalytic theory and its goal of helping us feel more alive and real. Integrating his own clinical examples and theories with those of Winnicott and Bion, Ogden helps us envision how to make psychic change possible in our own lives. 

The Golem and the Jinni by Helene Wecker (Harper, 2013) 

I use my time on airplanes to read fiction and this one kept me engaged from DC to San Antonio and back. It’s a tale of early twentieth century New York, its immigrants, and the ways cultural identities are formed, transmitted, and changed. Plus, there’s a sympathetic Golem and a magnetic Jinni and the deep magic inherent in their respective traditions. The recent sequel is equally great. And I hear there’s a third volume in progress. 

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