Stories, essays, and the truth about everyday leadership.
This is where I sort through the truth of it all with a little grace and a lot of humor in leadership, in technology, and in life. Sometimes that looks like a short essay on presence. Sometimes it’s a glimpse into my books-in-progress. Sometimes it’s just me sharing what it took today to keep moving forward.
I don’t write on a schedule; I write when there’s something worth saying. Sign up below to read the latest, or start with a few favorites below.
Essays on Presence — Reflections on clarity, boundaries, and showing up fully — even when the world is loud.
Book Updates — Behind-the-scenes notes on my memoir and nonfiction work. Drafting, revising, celebrating, and sometimes wrestling with words.
Personal Reflections — Stories and snapshots from everyday life — coffee on the deck, scary movies, bourbon nights. The moments that remind me why presence matters.
Why I’m Writing Here Every Day
I’ve always believed that leadership isn’t something you arrive at. It’s something you practice, day after day. It’s the quiet choices you make when no one is watching, and the bold ones you make when everyone is. It’s how you show up in the hard rooms and the small ones, at the podium and at your kitchen table.
That’s why I’m writing here — every day.
This blog isn’t meant to be polished or perfect. It’s meant to be present. These are short reflections, daily touchstones, small pieces of clarity you can carry into your own leadership. Some days it might be a story. Other days a question. Always, it will be honest.
From Book to Daily Practice
As I write Lead Like You Mean It, I want to challenge the idea that leadership has to look like control, perfection, or performance. What I’ve seen — in my own life, in boardrooms, in classrooms — is that the leaders we actually trust aren’t flawless. They’re whole.
They integrate their clarity with compassion. Their strategy with presence. Their ambition with heart.
But a book, even one with stories and tools, can only do so much. The real work is in the practice. The daily choosing. The returning to yourself when it would be easier to perform. That’s what this blog is for.
Why Every Day?
Because leadership doesn’t take a day off.
Every day, you’re being asked to make choices about who you are and how you show up. Some of those choices feel big — a meeting, a decision, a conversation you’ve been avoiding. Others are small — the way you begin your morning, the voice you use when you send that email, whether you listen to your gut or ignore it.
The daily cadence here is meant to mirror that reality. These aren’t long essays. They’re short reflections — about 600 to 800 words — that you can read with your morning coffee or during a break. Think of them like compass checks: not a map, but a moment to make sure you’re facing the right direction.
The Themes You’ll See Here
This space will weave together the same threads that run through my book and my work:
Integration & Wholeness — leadership that refuses to split you into acceptable parts.
True North & Direction — finding clarity in the middle of chaos.
Women in Leadership — naming the myths, rewriting the scripts, building power on our own terms.
Resilience & Grit — the daily practices that keep us going when the path isn’t clear.
These aren’t abstract ideas. They’re real, lived experiences. I’ll share stories from my own life and the work I do, but I’ll also leave space for you to see yourself here.
What I Hope For You
I don’t need you to agree with everything I write. I don’t even need you to like all of it. My hope is simpler: that something here will nudge you back toward yourself. That it will remind you of your own clarity. That it will make you pause and ask, What if I led from the whole of who I am today?
That’s the practice. That’s the point.
A Question for You Today
Since this is where we’re beginning, let me leave you with a question:
Where in your leadership are you performing, and where are you present?
Just notice. No judgment. Because noticing is the first step in returning.
Welcome to this space. I’m glad you’re here. Let’s see what happens when we practice — together — every day.
The Quiet Ache We Don’t Talk About
It doesn’t show up like a crisis. It doesn’t make headlines or collapse your calendar. The quiet ache slips in under the surface—a pause before a meeting where you brace instead of breathe, a smile that feels practiced, a project you said yes to while silently wondering where the space for you has gone.
On paper, everything looks right: the title, the trust, the results. But underneath, something whispers: This isn’t it. Not like this. Not anymore.
The ache isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom. It’s your body reminding you that performance isn’t the same as presence, and you were never meant to lead in pieces.
It doesn’t show up like a crisis.
It doesn’t make headlines or collapse your calendar.
The quiet ache slips in under the surface.
A pause before a meeting where you brace instead of breathe.
A smile that feels practiced.
A project you said yes to while silently wondering where the space for you has gone.
On paper, everything looks right. The title. The trust. The results.
But underneath it all? Something whispers: This isn’t it. Not like this. Not anymore.
Most women in leadership know this feeling, even if we don’t name it. We’ve been taught to push through, stay polished, and call it professionalism. But the ache isn’t a personal weakness—it’s the byproduct of leading inside systems that were never built for our wholeness.
Here’s the truth: the ache isn’t here to break you. It’s here to wake you up.
It’s your body reminding you that performance isn’t the same as presence.
That you were never meant to lead in pieces.
That leadership doesn’t have to cost you yourself.
The ache is not a malfunction. It’s wisdom.
And when you listen to it—you start to remember who you are beneath the performance.
The Container of Clarity: Boundaries as Love
We tend to think of boundaries as walls—hard lines meant to keep people out. And if that’s how you picture them, no wonder they feel heavy. Walls are about distance, defense, and separation.
But what if boundaries aren’t walls at all? What if they’re containers?
Think about water. Without a container, it leaks everywhere. It seeps into cracks, floods spaces it was never meant to touch, and eventually, it disappears. But held in a vessel, water is life-giving. It can be poured with intention. It can nourish, refresh, and sustain.
Your energy works the same way. Without boundaries, it leaks into everything: the extra project you didn’t have space for, the late-night emails you answer out of guilt, the relationships you sustain out of obligation instead of joy. And just like water without a vessel, your energy dissipates—leaving you drained, resentful, and hollow.
When you begin to see boundaries as containers, everything shifts.
In leadership, boundaries become the structure that makes your presence trustworthy. Your team knows your yes means something because you don’t give it lightly.
In relationships, boundaries keep resentment from festering. They protect the connection by ensuring what you offer is real, not half-hearted.
In self-care, boundaries become the way you honor your Spirit. They create space for rest, creativity, and renewal—the things that make you feel alive.
Boundaries, then, aren’t selfish. They’re stewardship. They’re how you tend the vessel of your own life so that what you pour out is true, sustainable, and whole.
The first no might feel scary. But every no born of clarity creates room for a truer yes later.
So next time you feel the weight of guilt or fear when drawing a boundary, remember this: you’re not shutting someone out. You’re holding yourself in.
Because love, presence, and leadership don’t come from leaking everywhere. They come from having a container strong enough to hold you—and generous enough to share what’s inside with intention.
Want more weekly stories on leading with clarity, purpose, and the future all around us? Subscribe here → amandasarratore.com/subscribe.
The Compass, Not the Map
The other morning, my GPS did that thing it always does when I miss a turn: it paused for a beat, then calmly announced, “Recalculating.” No drama. No judgment. Just a quiet acknowledgment that I was off the route—and then a new direction.
I laughed out loud because it struck me: that’s exactly how life works when we’re honest.
We spend so much energy clinging to the idea of a map—a fixed, linear plan with clear directions and an exact destination. We convince ourselves that if we just follow the map perfectly, we’ll arrive at purpose, clarity, confidence, enoughness.
But life is not a map. It’s a compass.
A compass doesn’t give you a detailed route. It doesn’t promise efficiency or precision. It simply points you toward what’s true, over and over again.
And that difference changes everything.
The Myth of Arrival
The myth so many of us carry is that purpose or clarity will finally arrive once we hit a milestone: the promotion, the house, the partnership, the recognition. That’s the map mentality—believing there’s an end point where we can finally exhale.
But have you noticed? The arrival rarely feels the way you thought it would. You land the role, and suddenly the bar moves higher. You achieve the milestone, and the satisfaction fades faster than you expected. You reach the destination, and still wonder, Now what?
Maps teach us to keep chasing. Compasses teach us to keep returning.
Alignment Over Arrival
Here’s the shift: stop asking “Am I there yet?” and start asking “Am I aligned?”
Alignment is different from achievement. It’s less about what you’ve checked off and more about whether the choices you’re making actually reflect your values.
It’s the pause before you say yes. The exhale when you stop performing and tell the truth instead. The way your body relaxes when a decision feels right—even if it scares you.
A map might tell you the shortest distance between two points. But a compass? A compass will point you toward integrity, presence, and clarity every single time.
Recalculating with Grace
One of the most powerful parts of living with a compass is realizing you will drift. You will miss turns. You will get caught in urgency, people-pleasing, or old scripts. That’s not failure—it’s life.
The question isn’t “Did I stay perfectly on course?” The question is “How quickly did I notice I’d drifted, and how gently did I return?”
That’s alignment. Not perfection. Return.
Like the GPS, you can always recalculate. You can notice when you’re off track, pause, and choose again. The compass is always available.
Living by Compass
So what does living by compass look like in real life?
Saying no when a request pulls you away from what matters most—even if it disappoints someone.
Pausing before a big decision and asking, “Does this move me toward alignment or away?”
Allowing yourself to recalculate without shame when you realize you’ve drifted into old patterns.
Trusting that alignment will always serve you better than arrival ever could.
Your Compass Is Enough
Here’s what I want you to remember:
You don’t need a flawless map to live with purpose. You don’t need to know every step in advance. You don’t need the next promotion, the next title, or the next nod of approval to feel whole.
You just need a compass.
A steady direction. A felt sense of what’s true. An inner orientation that says, This way—come back to yourself.
Because life isn’t linear. Leadership isn’t linear. Purpose isn’t linear.
And that’s not a problem. That’s the point.
Try this today: Pause before your next yes or no and ask, “Am I moving toward alignment, or away?” Let that question be your compass.
Want more weekly stories on leading with clarity, purpose, and the future all around us? Subscribe here → amandasarratore.com/subscribe.
Invisible. But Powerful.
This morning, before you even left your house, technology was already working for you. Your watch nudged you. Your thermostat adjusted itself. Maps rerouted you.
Things past generations couldn’t have imagined are now just background noise. Invisible. But powerful.
This is the reality of ambient technology—a shift from devices we use to environments we live in. It’s already here, reshaping our homes, health, work, and leadership.
This morning, before you even left your house, technology was already working for you.
Your watch nudged you to get up.
Your thermostat adjusted itself.
Maps quietly rerouted you away from traffic.
Things past generations couldn’t have imagined happening automatically are now just background noise to us.
Invisible. But powerful.
That’s the reality of ambient technology — a shift from devices we use to environments we live in.
We don’t notice when it works. We notice when it fails. That invisibility is both its power and its challenge.
The Shift That’s Already Here
We tend to think about “the future of tech” as shiny gadgets: thinner phones, faster processors, smarter apps. But the bigger shift is happening all around us, often without our awareness.
Homes where speakers dim lights and thermostats learn our rhythms.
Health devices that track our heartbeats and alert us before a crisis.
Work and learning spaces that adjust sound and light automatically, translate languages in real time, or even schedule our next meeting before we ask.
These aren’t gadgets. They’re environments.
And when technology becomes invisible, our relationship with it changes.
Why It Matters
When tech moves into the background, it doesn’t mean it’s irrelevant — it means it’s embedded.
That changes everything.
Careers change. It’s no longer about using the tool. It’s about interpreting what the tool is telling us, and making human-centered decisions with it.
Leadership changes. When the systems are invisible, people need leaders who can translate, explain, and guide.
Humanity changes. Invisible tech forces us to wrestle with privacy, agency, and trust. Just because the environment can know everything about us… should it?
How We Prepare Ourselves
I believe thriving in the ambient era comes down to three shifts:
Shift your lens. Stop seeing tech as a device. Start seeing it as an environment.
Invest in translation. You don’t have to code, but you do need to bridge the gap between the builders and the users, between data and decisions.
Lead with humanity. The more invisible the tech becomes, the more visible we must be — in empathy, in ethics, in presence.
Because at the end of the day, no one wants to be led by algorithms. They want to be led by humans they trust.
The Future Around Us
Tomorrow morning, when your watch buzzes, or your car reroutes you, or your home quietly takes care of something you didn’t ask it to — pause for just a second.
Notice it.
The future isn’t arriving. It’s already here, humming in the background.
Invisible. But powerful.
Want more weekly stories on leading with clarity, purpose, and the future all around us?
In a world that prizes hustle, high visibility, and polished power-moves, staying still feels countercultural. Yet the truth I keep discovering as a leader, technologist, and human is this: the most potent work happens in the quiet spaces between doing and being.
In this piece, I walk through what it means to step off the performance treadmill, lean into the edges of our strengths (yes — even the ones with shadows), and listen instead of always speaking. It’s a reflection on grit and grace, on alignment more than achievement, and on trusting the voice inside you that doesn’t demand applause—it simply waits.
If you’re tired of leading from the stage and ready to lead from the room, this post is for you. Bring your questions, your contradictions, and your curiosity. Let’s sit with them together.