Sharpen Your Axe: The Quiet Power of Doing Less and Living More

There are days I feel like I’m swinging an axe that gets duller with every chop. I keep going because that’s what we’re told to do—push harder, stay busy, hustle. But I’ve learned something that completely changed the way I look at effort, ambition, and success. And I want to share it with you, not as a lesson from some expert, but as a whisper from one human to another—someone who's also trying to figure this out.

The Two Kinds of People

Have you ever really wanted something—something simple, like a bagel after a long run—and found yourself stuck, staring at the obstacle instead of the reward? I have. And that’s when I realized the world is divided into two kinds of people: those who see what they want, and those who see what’s standing in the way.

I was the second type for a long time. I saw the lines, the wait, the noise. Until one day, someone leaned through the crowd, grabbed their bagel, and walked off with a smile—without hurting anyone, without stealing joy from others. Just a gentle reminder that if you want something, you’re allowed to reach for it your way.

You don’t have to wait in line if you can find another path. Just don’t block anyone else’s.

Sharpen Your Axe

There’s a story about two lumberjacks. They start chopping at the same time and stop at the same time. But one disappears every afternoon for an hour—and still, somehow, chops more wood.

The secret? He goes home to sharpen his axe.

That hit me. So many of us burn out because we think the goal is to do more every single day. But what if the goal is to do well over a lifetime? Taking a break isn’t weakness. Resting, recharging, even stepping away—it’s wisdom. It’s survival.

Now, when I feel overwhelmed, I ask myself: Am I dull right now? Do I need to sharpen before I keep swinging?

Take Care of Each Other

I used to think success was about standing out. But the truth? It’s about lifting others.

Real strength, I’ve learned, shows up when we have nothing left—and still reach out to help the person next to us. That’s how teams survive, how families heal, how communities grow stronger.

Asking for help felt like failure to me at first. I didn’t want to be seen as weak, as lost. But the moment I finally whispered, I can’t do this alone, hands reached for me that had always been there. They just didn’t know I needed them.

There’s power in vulnerability. And there’s beauty in being needed, too. Help each other. It’s the most human thing we can do.

Be the Last to Speak

Sometimes, the wisest thing you can do is stay quiet.

I’ve sat in meetings and rooms where leaders speak first and loudest. But the best ones—the ones you remember—are the ones who sit back, listen with intent, and only speak when they’ve truly heard everyone else.

There’s humility in silence. There’s strength in patience. You don’t always have to be right first. You just have to understand why others think the way they do. Then, when you do speak, your words carry weight, not noise.

Own Your Mess

I’ve made mistakes. We all have. And I’ve learned that the only way forward is to own them.

You don’t get to celebrate the wins without accepting the stumbles. Taking responsibility doesn’t make you smaller—it makes you braver. It says, I am learning, and I am willing.

Sometimes, like the doctors who unknowingly spread harm because they didn’t wash their hands, we are the problem. And that’s hard to accept. But it’s also freeing—because if we’re the problem, we can also be the solution.

Create a Place Where People Want to Be

A barista once told me, “I love my job.” His smile wasn’t forced, and his kindness felt real. Why? Because his managers asked how he was doing, not just what he was doing wrong.

We think leadership is about control. It’s not. It’s about care. It’s about creating spaces where people feel safe to be themselves, where they don’t need to hide, where showing up isn’t just about clocking in—it’s about being seen.

Ask people how they’re doing. Actually listen. That’s where culture begins.

So, dear reader, I leave you with this:

What if the only thing standing between you and the life you want is the way you’re swinging the axe? What if instead of grinding harder, you paused, helped someone up, asked for help yourself, and listened more than you spoke?

What if you just needed to sharpen your axe?

Go ahead. Take a breath. You’re not falling behind. You’re getting ready.

💭 What’s one thing you can do today to sharpen your axe and take care of someone else in the process?