This morning, the sun is shining in the North.

I am sitting with my coffee, looking outside and thinking about how differently we experience sunshine depending on where we live. I was born in Greece, where sunshine was simply part of everyday life. Here in northern Canada, it feels more like a gift—particularly on a quiet Sunday in August.

Northern winters teach us to pay attention to summer. We remember the mornings when the car would not start, the roads were covered in snow, and darkness seemed to arrive before the workday was over. We remember looking outside in January and wondering whether spring had quietly decided not to return.

Then a day like today arrives.

The sky is blue, the air is warm, and everything looks alive. People are outside walking, cycling, visiting with neighbours, or simply sitting in the sun. No one needs to remind us to enjoy it while it lasts. In the North, we all understand that.

August is an in-between month. Summer is still here, but there are already hints of what is coming. The mornings are a little cooler, the evenings arrive slightly earlier, and a few leaves may even begin to change before we are ready to admit that summer is slowly coming to an end.

There is no need to rush autumn. It will find us soon enough.

Today is for coffee outside, brunch with friends, an unhurried walk, or a drive through the countryside. It is a day to leave the windows open and allow fresh air into the house. It is also a day when doing very little may be exactly what we need.

I admit that I struggle with that last part.

My natural tendency is to fill every open moment. There is always an email that could be answered, a document that could be reviewed, or another idea that could be developed. I often tell myself that I will relax once everything is finished, even though experience has taught me that there will always be something else to do.

Leadership and academic life can both reward busyness. We become accustomed to moving from one responsibility to the next—solving problems, making decisions, and supporting others. That work matters to me, but it can also make it difficult to recognize when it is time to stop.

A sunny Sunday in August offers a gentle correction.

It reminds me that a worthwhile day does not need to be measured by how much I accomplish. Time spent with friends is not wasted time. Sitting outside with coffee does not need a purpose. A walk does not have to contribute to a larger goal. Sometimes, being present is enough.

Growing up in Greece taught me the importance of slowing down and sharing time with others. Some of life’s best moments happen around a table, during a long conversation, when no one is particularly concerned about the time.

The North has taught me to value those moments even more.

Living here has changed how I understand home. Greece will always be part of who I am, but the North has also become part of me. Its wide skies, long winters, brief summers, and strong communities have shaped how I see the world. I was not born a northerner, but over the years, I have become one.

Perhaps that is why a day like today feels so meaningful. It brings together two parts of my life: my Greek instinct to seek out the sun and my northern understanding that sunshine should never be taken for granted.

Soon, the season will change. The routines of autumn will return, followed eventually by another winter. There will be time enough for coats, icy roads, early darkness, and conversations about how cold it is.

But not today.

Today, the sun is shining in the North. My coffee is warm, the sky is open, and the day is not asking me to do anything remarkable.

It is simply asking me to notice it.1

Όταν λάμπει ο ήλιος στον Βορρά

Ένας κυριακάτικος στοχασμός για το καλοκαίρι, τον τόπο που αποκαλούμε σπίτι και την αξία τού να ζούμε τη στιγμή

Σήμερα το πρωί, ο ήλιος λάμπει στον Βορρά.

Κάθομαι με τον καφέ μου, κοιτάζω έξω και σκέφτομαι πόσο διαφορετικά νιώθουμε τον ήλιο, ανάλογα με το πού ζούμε. Γεννήθηκα στην Ελλάδα, όπου ο ήλιος ήταν αυτονόητο κομμάτι της καθημερινότητας. Εδώ, στον βόρειο Καναδά, μοιάζει περισσότερο με δώρο — ιδιαίτερα μια ήσυχη Κυριακή του Αυγούστου.

Οι χειμώνες του Βορρά μάς μαθαίνουν να εκτιμούμε το καλοκαίρι. Θυμόμαστε τα πρωινά που το αυτοκίνητο δεν έπαιρνε μπροστά, τους χιονισμένους δρόμους και το σκοτάδι που έμοιαζε να πέφτει πριν ακόμη τελειώσει η εργάσιμη μέρα. Θυμόμαστε πώς κοιτούσαμε έξω τον Ιανουάριο και αναρωτιόμασταν αν η άνοιξη είχε αποφασίσει σιωπηλά να μην επιστρέψει.

Και ύστερα έρχεται μια μέρα σαν τη σημερινή.

Ο ουρανός είναι γαλανός, ο αέρας ζεστός και τα πάντα μοιάζουν ζωντανά. Οι άνθρωποι βρίσκονται έξω, περπατούν, κάνουν ποδήλατο, συζητούν με τους γείτονες ή απλώς κάθονται στον ήλιο. Κανείς δεν χρειάζεται να μας θυμίσει να απολαύσουμε αυτή τη λιακάδα όσο κρατά. Στον Βορρά, το καταλαβαίνουμε όλοι.

Ο Αύγουστος είναι ένας μήνας ανάμεσα στο καλοκαίρι και σε ό,τι ακολουθεί. Το καλοκαίρι είναι ακόμη εδώ, αλλά έχουν ήδη αρχίσει να εμφανίζονται μικρές ενδείξεις για όσα πλησιάζουν. Τα πρωινά είναι λίγο πιο δροσερά, τα βράδια έρχονται κάπως νωρίτερα και μερικά φύλλα ίσως αρχίσουν να αλλάζουν χρώμα πριν ακόμη είμαστε έτοιμοι να παραδεχτούμε ότι το καλοκαίρι οδεύει σιγά σιγά προς το τέλος του.

Δεν χρειάζεται να βιαστούμε να υποδεχτούμε το φθινόπωρο. Θα έρθει αρκετά σύντομα.

Η σημερινή μέρα είναι για καφέ έξω, πρόγευμα με φίλους, έναν ήρεμο περίπατο ή μια βόλτα με το αυτοκίνητο στην εξοχή. Είναι μια μέρα για να αφήσουμε τα παράθυρα ανοιχτά και τον καθαρό αέρα να μπει στο σπίτι. Είναι επίσης μια μέρα που το να μην κάνουμε σχεδόν τίποτα ίσως είναι ακριβώς αυτό που χρειαζόμαστε.

Ομολογώ ότι αυτό το τελευταίο με δυσκολεύει.

Έχω την τάση να γεμίζω κάθε κενή στιγμή. Υπάρχει πάντα κάποιο email που περιμένει απάντηση, ένα έγγραφο που θα μπορούσα να εξετάσω ή ακόμη μια ιδέα που θα μπορούσα να αναπτύξω. Συχνά λέω στον εαυτό μου ότι θα ξεκουραστώ μόλις τελειώσουν όλα, παρόλο που η εμπειρία μού έχει δείξει ότι πάντα θα υπάρχει κάτι ακόμη που πρέπει να γίνει.

Οι ηγετικοί ρόλοι και η ακαδημαϊκή ζωή συχνά επιβραβεύουν τη διαρκή απασχόληση. Συνηθίζουμε να περνάμε από τη μία ευθύνη στην επόμενη — επιλύοντας προβλήματα, λαμβάνοντας αποφάσεις και στηρίζοντας τους άλλους. Αυτή η δουλειά είναι σημαντική για μένα, αλλά μπορεί επίσης να με κάνει να ξεχνώ πότε είναι ώρα να σταματήσω.

Μια ηλιόλουστη Κυριακή του Αυγούστου προσφέρει μια ήρεμη υπενθύμιση.

Μου θυμίζει ότι η αξία μιας ημέρας δεν χρειάζεται να μετριέται από το πόσα κατάφερα να ολοκληρώσω. Ο χρόνος με φίλους δεν είναι χαμένος χρόνος. Το να κάθομαι έξω με έναν καφέ δεν χρειάζεται να εξυπηρετεί κάποιον σκοπό. Ένας περίπατος δεν είναι απαραίτητο να συμβάλλει σε έναν μεγαλύτερο στόχο. Μερικές φορές, αρκεί απλώς να είμαστε παρόντες.

Μεγαλώνοντας στην Ελλάδα, έμαθα πόσο σημαντικό είναι να χαμηλώνουμε τους ρυθμούς και να μοιραζόμαστε τον χρόνο μας με τους άλλους. Μερικές από τις καλύτερες στιγμές της ζωής συμβαίνουν γύρω από ένα τραπέζι, στη διάρκεια μιας μεγάλης συζήτησης, όταν κανείς δεν ανησυχεί ιδιαίτερα για την ώρα.

Ο Βορράς με έμαθε να εκτιμώ ακόμη περισσότερο αυτές τις στιγμές.

Η ζωή εδώ έχει αλλάξει τον τρόπο με τον οποίο αντιλαμβάνομαι τι σημαίνει «σπίτι». Η Ελλάδα θα είναι πάντα κομμάτι αυτού που είμαι, αλλά και ο Βορράς έχει γίνει πλέον κομμάτι μου. Ο απέραντος ουρανός, οι μακριοί χειμώνες, τα σύντομα καλοκαίρια και οι δεμένες κοινότητές του έχουν διαμορφώσει τον τρόπο με τον οποίο βλέπω τον κόσμο. Δεν γεννήθηκα στον Βορρά, αλλά με τα χρόνια έγινα άνθρωπός του.

Ίσως γι’ αυτό μια μέρα σαν τη σημερινή μοιάζει τόσο ξεχωριστή. Ενώνει δύο πλευρές της ζωής μου: το ελληνικό κομμάτι μου, που αναζητά τον ήλιο, και όσα μου δίδαξε ο Βορράς — ότι τη λιακάδα δεν πρέπει ποτέ να τη θεωρούμε δεδομένη.

Σύντομα, η εποχή θα αλλάξει. Οι ρυθμοί του φθινοπώρου θα επιστρέψουν και, αργότερα, θα ακολουθήσει ακόμη ένας χειμώνας. Θα υπάρχει αρκετός χρόνος για παλτά, παγωμένους δρόμους, σκοτεινά απογεύματα και συζητήσεις για το πόσο κρύο κάνει.

Όχι όμως σήμερα.

Σήμερα, ο ήλιος λάμπει στον Βορρά. Ο καφές μου είναι ζεστός, ο ουρανός απέραντος και η μέρα δεν μου ζητά να κάνω κάτι σπουδαίο.

Μου ζητά απλώς να είμαι παρών και να τη ζήσω.2

August begins with good food, good conversation, and time to reconnect.

There is something about August 1 that feels like a transition.

In Canada, summer is still very much with us. The days are long, patios are full, and there is still time for fresh berries, road trips, and slower mornings. At the same time, August begins to turn our attention toward what is coming next.

For those of us who work in education, healthcare, public service, or leadership, August often signals the return of a faster pace. We begin thinking about the fall, the people returning, the work ahead, and the many priorities that will soon compete for our attention.

Before all of that, there is value in pausing.

For me, that pause came over brunch.

The plate was generous: chocolate pancakes, fresh strawberries, and enough chocolate sauce to remove any suggestion that this was a sensible breakfast. It was indulgent, memorable, and exactly right for the first day of August.

But the food was only part of the experience.

What mattered most was the time around the table.

Leadership is often discussed in terms of strategy, accountability, budgets, decision-making, and measurable outcomes. All of those things matter. They are part of the work. But they do not fully explain why some leaders are able to build trust, sustain commitment, and help people move through difficult periods together.

Bradberry and Greaves (2009) describe emotional intelligence as the ability to recognize and understand emotions in ourselves and others and to use that awareness to manage our behaviour and relationships. Their framework includes self-awareness, self-management, social awareness, and relationship management.

That definition has always made sense to me because leadership is rarely only technical. The decisions may be difficult, the responsibilities significant, and the expectations high. Yet, despite that complexity, our success still depends on how well we understand and connect with people.

Trust is not created during a crisis. By then, it is usually being tested.

It is built long before that, through everyday interactions. It develops when leaders listen, follow through, acknowledge uncertainty, communicate honestly, and treat people fairly. None of these behaviours is especially dramatic, but together they shape whether people feel safe enough to contribute, disagree, ask for help, or speak honestly.

This is why informal spaces matter.

Trust grows when people feel heard, respected, and included.

Some of the most meaningful leadership conversations do not happen in formal meetings. They happen before the meeting begins, over coffee, during a walk, or around a table where no one is watching the clock.

Sometimes, they happen over brunch.

That idea connects strongly to both Greece and Canada.

Growing up in Greece, meals were rarely hurried. Someone was always arriving, another coffee was always offered, and conversations often lasted longer than anyone intended. I did not realize it then, but those tables were teaching leadership long before I ever held a leadership title.

The table was more than a place to eat. It was where stories were shared, disagreements were worked through, people were welcomed, and relationships were renewed. A meal was rarely only about the food. The conversation was part of the experience, and often the most important part.

That has shaped how I think about leadership.

Hospitality is not simply politeness. It is the act of making room for people. It is extending welcome, creating connection, and showing others that they belong. It also requires time. Relationships are difficult to build when every interaction is rushed or narrowly transactional.

Canada has taught me something equally important.

Leadership here often happens across distance, difference, and context. We work across campuses, communities, provinces, territories, and time zones. In rural, remote, northern, and Indigenous communities, the realities can be very different from those assumed in centralized systems.

Working across northern communities has reminded me that leadership cannot be separated from place. Geography shapes opportunity, community shapes expectations, and relationships often determine whether change is accepted, resisted, or understood.

Good leadership begins by recognizing that what works in one setting may not work in another. It requires listening before deciding, asking rather than assuming, and understanding that people bring their communities, families, histories, responsibilities, and lived experiences into the workplace with them.

Perhaps that is where Greece and Canada come together for me.

Greece reminds me of the value of hospitality, conversation, and staying at the table.

Canada reminds me of the importance of inclusion, diversity, and leading across distance and different realities.

Both have taught me that leadership begins with connection.

The strongest leaders I have known are not always the most polished or the loudest. They are usually the ones who make people feel comfortable enough to be honest. They ask thoughtful questions. They listen carefully. They admit when they do not know something. They follow through.

Most importantly, they make room for other people.

August feels like a good time to reflect on all of this.

It is a month that sits between seasons. Summer is still here, but fall is beginning to appear on the horizon. For many of us, it is a time to prepare, but it should also be a time to reconnect.

Before the calendars fill, make time for people.

Have the coffee. Accept the brunch invitation. Ask someone how they are really doing. Listen without immediately trying to solve the problem. Stay at the table a little longer.

No strategic plan measures conversations over coffee or brunch. Yet those conversations often determine whether the strategy succeeds.

As I looked at that wonderfully excessive plate of pancakes and strawberries, I was reminded that leadership is rarely built through one dramatic moment. More often, it is built quietly through repeated acts of connection, consistency, and care.

When I think back on the leaders who have influenced my life, I do not remember every strategic decision they made. I remember the conversations. I remember the encouragement. I remember the feeling of belonging.

As August begins, I am reminded that the most meaningful investments we make are rarely financial or strategic. They are relational. Long after we have forgotten the agenda or even the meal itself, we will remember the conversation and the people around the table.

In the end, that is what leadership is really about.

Leadership begins by making room for people.

Figure 1. AI-generated caricature of the author enjoying brunch with friends, created by ChatGPT from an original photograph provided by the author. Used to illustrate the themes of friendship, conversation, and leadership discussed in this article.

I enjoy brunch on the weekend.

Part of that is the food. I am never going to complain about good coffee, eggs, toast, or a plate that is probably larger than it needs to be. But brunch has never really been about the food for me.

It is about the people around the table.

During the week, life can become very structured. My days are often shaped by meetings, decisions, competing priorities, deadlines, and conversations that need to lead somewhere. There is usually an agenda, an issue to resolve, or a next step to identify.

Brunch is different.

There is no agenda.

Nobody is taking minutes.

There are no action items at the end.

We sit, order coffee, catch up, and allow the conversation to go wherever it needs to go. Sometimes we talk about work. Sometimes we talk about family, relationships, travel, health, aging, or the strange things that happen during an otherwise ordinary week.

Sometimes we laugh for most of the meal.

Sometimes the conversation becomes more serious.

Usually, it is a bit of both.

The more I think about these weekend conversations, the more I realize how much they have in common with leadership.

Leadership is often presented as something highly strategic. We talk about vision, accountability, performance, results, and organizational change. All of those things matter. Leaders need to make decisions. They need to provide direction. They need to deal with difficult issues.

But leadership is also much more ordinary than that.

It happens in conversations.

It happens when we slow down long enough to notice that someone is not quite themselves.

It happens when we ask a second question instead of accepting the first answer.

It happens when we listen without immediately trying to fix everything.

That last one can be difficult.

People in leadership roles are often expected to respond quickly. We are supposed to know what to do, provide reassurance, and move the situation forward. There is value in that, but not every conversation requires an immediate solution.

Sometimes people need to be heard before they are ready to think about what comes next.

Good friends understand that.

They do not always offer advice. They do not turn every problem into a project. They listen. They ask questions. They challenge us when necessary, but they also know when to simply sit with us.

I think good leaders need to do more of that.

We need to understand that listening is not a delay in leadership. It is part of leadership.

Brunch also reminds me that trust is built slowly.

It is built when people show up.

It is built when they remember something you told them several weeks ago.

It is built when they ask how a situation turned out.

It is built when they are fully present rather than looking at their phone or waiting for their turn to speak.

The same is true in the workplace.

People may respect a position or title, but they decide whether to trust the person holding it. They watch how leaders behave when things are difficult. They notice whether we follow through. They notice whether we admit when we are wrong. They notice whether we make time for people when there is no immediate organizational benefit.

Trust is rarely created through one significant gesture.

It is usually built through many small ones.

Friendship also involves honesty.

Good friends do not agree with everything we say. They ask uncomfortable questions. They point out when we may be avoiding something. They tell us when our thinking does not make sense, usually with enough humour to make the truth easier to hear.

Leaders need those relationships too.

Leadership can become isolating. The more responsibility someone carries, the easier it becomes for conversations to feel filtered. People may become cautious. They may tell leaders what they think they want to hear. They may avoid raising concerns until those concerns become much larger problems.

That is why leaders need people who will be honest with them.

We need colleagues, mentors, coaches, and friends who can challenge our assumptions, identify our blind spots, and remind us that having a leadership role does not mean we are always right.

Some of the best leadership advice I have received has not come from a formal leadership program or a professional conference.

It has come from ordinary conversations with people I trust.

Sometimes it has come over brunch.

There is also something important about unstructured time.

Most workplaces are built around outcomes. Meetings need objectives. Projects need timelines. Conversations need decisions. That structure is necessary, but not every valuable interaction can be planned in advance.

People also need room to think aloud.

They need space to test an idea before it is fully developed.

They need opportunities to talk without feeling that every sentence will become a commitment or appear in the meeting minutes.

Some of the best ideas emerge when people feel relaxed enough to be curious.

Brunch creates that kind of space.

There is time to wander in the conversation, return to an earlier point, change our minds, and explore an idea that may go nowhere. There is no pressure to make the discussion productive.

Strangely, those conversations are often very productive.

They help us understand one another.

They help us see situations differently.

They remind us that relationships are not a distraction from the work. Relationships are part of the work.

As we get older, friendships also require intention.

People become busy. Calendars fill up. Responsibilities increase. It becomes easy to say that we should get together soon without actually choosing a date.

Leadership relationships require intention too.

A healthy workplace culture does not happen because it appears in a strategic plan. It is created through repeated choices. Leaders create culture through how they communicate, how they respond to mistakes, how they handle disagreement, and whether they make people feel that their contribution matters.

Culture is built one interaction at a time.

The same is true of friendship.

That may be why weekend brunch matters so much to me.

It is a pause from the week, but it is also a reminder.

It reminds me to pay attention.

It reminds me to ask better questions.

It reminds me that people do not always need an answer.

It reminds me that humour, honesty, and connection all matter.

And it reminds me that leadership is not only about moving people toward an outcome.

It is also about how people experience us along the way.

I rarely remember exactly what I ordered at brunch.

What I remember is the conversation.

I remember laughing.

I remember being challenged.

I remember leaving with a different perspective.

Most of all, I remember feeling connected.

Brunch is never just brunch.

Sometimes, it is where we remember how to be better friends.

And sometimes, it is where we remember how to be better leaders.

I went to see The Odyssey expecting a good movie and, of course, something visually impressive. It is a story filled with war, gods, monsters, temptation, loss, and a journey home that takes much longer than anyone would have expected.

What I did not expect was how much it would make me think about my own life.

Perhaps I should have.

I was born in Greece, moved to the United States, and later made my home in Canada. I have now lived outside Greece for most of my life, but Greece has never become simply the place where I was born.

It remains part of how I understand family, language, humour, food, history, and community.

Canada is also home.

I do not see those things as being in conflict. They are simply different parts of the same life. Like many people who have lived in more than one country, I have learned that home is not always one place.

Sometimes home is a collection of places, people, memories, and experiences that stay with us wherever we go.

That is probably why the story of Odysseus trying to return to Ithaca felt more personal than I expected.

Home Is More Than a Place

At one level, The Odyssey is a fairly simple story. A man goes to war and then tries to get home.

The difficulty, of course, is that almost everything that can go wrong does go wrong.

Some of the problems are beyond Odysseus’s control.

Others are not.

That is where the story becomes more interesting.

Ithaca is not simply a destination. It represents family, responsibility, identity, and belonging. It is the place that gives the journey meaning.

Without Ithaca, Odysseus would simply be wandering.

I think all of us have some version of Ithaca.

It may be a professional goal, a relationship, a community, or a sense of purpose. It may be something we are trying to return to after a difficult period. It may also be something that does not yet exist—a life, career, or community we are still trying to build.

The challenge is that the journey changes us.

Even when we return to a familiar place, we do not return as the same person who left.

When I go back to Greece, there is an immediate sense of familiarity. I recognize the language, the landscape, the culture, the humour, and the small things that are difficult to explain to someone who did not grow up there.

At the same time, I am not the person who left.

I have lived in other countries, built a career, developed relationships, and had experiences that have changed how I see the world. Greece remains part of me, but it is not the only place that shaped me.

That is one of the realities of immigration.

You can feel deeply connected to the place where you were born while also knowing that your life is now rooted somewhere else. You can belong to more than one place, even though the sense of belonging is different in each.

At the same time, I am not the person who left.

I have lived in other countries, built a career, developed relationships, and had experiences that have changed how I see the world. Greece remains part of me, but it is not the only place that shaped me.

That is one of the realities of immigration.

You can feel deeply connected to the place where you were born while also knowing that your life is now rooted somewhere else. You can belong to more than one place, even though the sense of belonging is different in each.

Home is not always one place. Sometimes it is a collection of people, memories, languages, and experiences that travel with us.

Odysseus Is Not a Perfect Leader

Leadership requires direction, but it also requires the humility to adjust the course.

Odysseus is intelligent, determined, creative, and able to survive under extremely difficult circumstances.

He is also proud, stubborn, and sometimes convinced that he knows more than everyone around him.

In other words, he is human.

I do not think the story asks us to admire everything about him. At times, he is impressive. At other times, he is frustrating. Some of his decisions save people. Other decisions make the situation considerably worse.

That made me think about how we talk about leadership.

We often describe people as either good leaders or poor leaders, but leadership is rarely that straightforward. A person can be capable, experienced, and well intentioned and still make a poor decision. A leader can demonstrate courage in one situation and unnecessary stubbornness in another.

Some of our strongest qualities can also become problems if we are not careful.

Confidence can help a leader make a difficult decision. Too much confidence can prevent that same leader from listening.

Persistence can help a group move through a challenging period. It can also become an unwillingness to admit that something is not working.

Experience can support good judgment. It can also create the belief that we already know the answer.

I have seen this in organizations, and I am sure I have done it myself.

It is much easier to identify what other people are doing wrong than to consider whether our own approach is contributing to the problem. We can point to policies, systems, limited resources, difficult personalities, or poor communication.

Sometimes those are genuinely the issue.

Sometimes, however, we are part of the issue too.

Odysseus is often trying to overcome the dangers around him, but he is also dealing with dangers created by his own pride. I suspect that is one reason the story has lasted for so long.

Most of us understand that struggle, even if we would prefer not to admit it.

The Harder Leadership Questions

Leadership requires us to ask questions that are not always comfortable.

Did I listen carefully enough?

Did I move too quickly?

Did I make assumptions instead of asking questions?

Was I so focused on the outcome that I stopped paying attention to the people affected by the decision?

Did I mistake silence for agreement?

These questions are not about becoming hesitant or avoiding responsibility. Leaders still need to make decisions, including difficult ones.

The questions matter because good intentions are not enough.

A decision can be made for reasonable reasons and still create unnecessary confusion, stress, or additional work for others. A plan can make perfect sense from an administrative perspective and look very different to the people expected to carry it out.

Self-examination does not weaken leadership.

It makes leadership more responsible.

Leadership without self-examination can become little more than authority supported by good intentions.

Movement Is Not Always Progress

The movie also made me think about the difference between movement and progress.

Odysseus is almost always moving, but he is not always getting closer to Ithaca.

There is a lesson in that for many of us.

In education and organizational life, it is easy to become extremely busy. Our calendars fill up. We attend meetings, launch projects, write reports, respond to emails, establish committees, and move quickly from one issue to the next.

At the end of the week, we may have worked very hard without being entirely certain that we moved any closer to what actually matters.

I am probably not the only person who has left a meeting and wondered whether we accomplished anything other than scheduling another meeting.

Busyness can create the appearance of progress.

It gives us something visible to point to. We can say that a committee was formed, a plan was developed, a consultation occurred, or a new initiative was launched.

The more important question is whether the work improved anything for the people we serve.

Did it make learning better for students?

Did it make expectations clearer for faculty and staff?

Did it solve the problem?

Or did it simply create another process?

That is not an argument against planning, reporting, or structure. All three are necessary.

It is simply a reminder that activity should not become the goal.

Sometimes the most responsible leadership decision is not to add another initiative. It is to stop, look honestly at what is already happening, and decide whether it is producing the intended result.

That sounds simple.

It rarely is.

Organizations tend to reward visible activity. Reflection is quieter. It may not produce an immediate deliverable, and it can require us to admit that a well-intentioned plan is not working.

Perseverance matters, but perseverance should not mean continuing in the wrong direction simply because we have already travelled a long way.

Leaders Do Not Travel Alone

The success of the journey cannot be measured only by whether the leader reaches the destination.

The difficulty with becoming too focused on a destination is that we can stop paying attention to the journey.

This is particularly important in leadership because leaders do not travel alone.

Our decisions affect other people.

A change that appears efficient on paper may create confusion or additional work for faculty and staff. A strategic decision may have consequences for students that were not immediately visible. A timeline that seems reasonable to one person may be nearly impossible for someone else.

That does not mean leaders should avoid difficult decisions.

Sometimes difficult decisions are necessary.

It does mean that we should be honest about their impact.

A leader should not measure success only by whether a goal was reached. We should also ask what happened to the people along the way.

Were they listened to?

Did they understand why the decision was being made?

Were they treated with respect?

Did we acknowledge the additional work or stress created by the change?

Did we adjust when the plan was clearly not working as intended?

Did people arrive exhausted, unheard, and discouraged while the leader declared the journey a success?

For me, this is one of the strongest messages in the story.

Odysseus wants to reach Ithaca, but his decisions have consequences for everyone travelling with him. His intelligence helps others survive, but his pride also places them at risk.

The destination matters, but so does the condition in which people arrive.

That may be particularly important in education.

Our work is ultimately about people. Policies, plans, reviews, budgets, and organizational structures all matter, but they are not the purpose of the work.

They are supposed to help us serve students, support faculty and staff, and strengthen our communities.

When the process becomes more important than the people, we have probably lost sight of Ithaca.

We All Have an Ithaca

Perhaps this is why The Odyssey continues to resonate.

Most people understand what it means to leave something behind.

Many understand what it means to spend years trying to reach a goal, only to discover that they have changed along the way.

The journey is rarely as direct as we planned.

There are delays, disappointments, unexpected opportunities, poor decisions, and moments when we wonder whether we are still heading in the right direction.

Sometimes the obstacles are external.

Sometimes they are created by other people.

And sometimes, if we are honest, they are created by us.

That may be the most useful reminder I took from the movie.

Perseverance is important, but perseverance without reflection can simply mean continuing down a path that no longer makes sense.

There are times when we need to stop and ask whether we are still travelling toward something that matters.

We also need to ask whether the way we are travelling reflects the values we claim to hold.

It is possible to reach the destination and still lose something important along the way.

I left The Odyssey thinking that it is not simply a story about a man trying to return to an island.

It is a story about purpose, pride, responsibility, belonging, and the ways people are changed by the journeys they take.

We all have our own Ithaca.

The destination matters.

But how we get there, who travels with us, and how we treat them along the way may matter even more.

A Question for You

What does Ithaca represent in your own life—and has the journey changed what you thought you were looking for?

Thank you for reading. I write about leadership, education, identity, and the lessons we often find in unexpected places. Subscribe to receive future reflections directly in your inbox.

It is about how we show up.

How we listen.

How we respond when things are difficult.

And how people feel after they have spent time with us.

Leadership isn’t about the title you hold. It’s about the difference you make in the lives of others.

I have worked in higher education, healthcare, teaching, quality assurance, and leadership development. These areas may appear different, but they all have one thing in common: people.

For me, leadership always comes back to people.

It is not about having all the answers. I certainly do not.

It is not about being the loudest person in the room.

And it is not about proving that we are the smartest person at the table.

Leadership is about asking thoughtful questions, listening carefully, and making decisions with both purpose and humanity.

People Come First

Every policy, process, budget, and decision eventually affects a person.

That is easy to forget when we are busy, under pressure, or focused on results.

Putting people first does not mean avoiding difficult decisions. It does not mean lowering expectations or refusing to hold people accountable.

It means remembering that there is a human being on the other side of the conversation.

People deserve honesty.

They deserve respect.

They deserve to understand why decisions are being made.

And even when the answer is no, they should still feel that they were heard.

I believe we can be clear without being cold and accountable without losing compassion.

Leadership Begins with Listening

Some leaders feel they need to speak first, speak often, and have an immediate answer.

I have learned that some of the best leadership begins with silence.

Listening allows us to understand what is really happening, not simply what appears to be happening.

It helps us hear the concerns behind the words.

It gives people space to contribute.

And it reminds us that the people closest to the work often understand it best.

I have learned a great deal from students, faculty, staff, colleagues, community partners, and people whose experiences are very different from my own.

Good leaders do not need to have every idea.

They need to create the conditions where good ideas can emerge.

Trust Is Built in Ordinary Moments

Trust is not created by a strategic plan, a job title, or a leadership retreat.

It is built in small moments.

Following through.

Returning the call.

Keeping your word.

Admitting when you made a mistake.

Being honest when you do not know.

Showing up when the conversation is uncomfortable.

People do not expect perfection from leaders. They do expect consistency, fairness, and authenticity.

Trust takes time to build, but it can disappear very quickly. That is why our everyday actions matter so much.

Leaders Should Keep Learning

I am a strong believer in lifelong learning.

The more I learn, the more I realize how much I still do not know.

That is not discouraging to me. It is motivating.

Leadership requires curiosity because the world does not stand still.

Higher education is changing.

Healthcare is changing.

Technology is changing.

Artificial intelligence is changing how we teach, work, communicate, and make decisions.

Leaders need to remain open, reflective, and willing to reconsider their assumptions.

There is no shame in saying, “I do not know, but I will find out.”

In fact, I believe that is often a sign of strong leadership.

Leadership Should Help Others Grow

One of the most meaningful parts of leadership is seeing someone become more confident, more capable, and more willing to step forward.

Sometimes people need encouragement.

Sometimes they need honest feedback.

Sometimes they need someone to give them an opportunity before they fully believe they are ready.

I have always believed that leadership should create more leaders, not more followers.

The goal is not to make people dependent on us.

The goal is to help them trust their own judgment, develop their strengths, and recognize what they are capable of contributing.

Impact Matters

Results matter.

Accountability matters.

Doing good work matters.

But I also think we need to ask what kind of impact we are having along the way.

Did people feel respected?

Did we build trust?

Did we help someone grow?

Did we make the team, classroom, organization, or community better than we found it?

That is the kind of impact I care about.

I do not want to be remembered simply for a title I held or a position I occupied.

I hope people remember that I listened.

That I cared.

That I was honest.

That I challenged them when needed.

That I supported them when it mattered.

And that, together, we made a positive difference.

I am still learning what it means to lead well. I expect I always will be.

But this is the kind of leader I try to be:

Someone who puts people first.

Someone who leads with empathy and integrity.

Someone who remains curious.

Someone who builds trust.

And someone who never forgets that leadership is not about us.

It is about the people we are fortunate enough to serve.

People first. Purpose always. Impact that matters.

If these images leave you with one thought, I hope it’s this: leadership isn’t about being remembered for a title. It’s about being remembered for how you treated people, how you helped them grow, and the difference you made along the way.

— Dennis Stavrou

I’m Dennis Stavrou.

I have spent much of my career working in higher education, healthcare, teaching, leadership, quality assurance, and executive coaching. On the surface, these areas may seem quite different, but for me, they have always been connected by one thing: people.

I have always been interested in how people learn, how leaders lead, how organizations change, and how we can create environments where others feel supported, respected, and able to do their best work.

Over the years, I have worked with students, faculty, staff, leaders, and organizations. I have learned that meaningful change rarely begins with a policy, a process, or a strategic plan. More often, it begins with a conversation, a thoughtful question, and someone taking the time to listen.

I was born in Greece, later lived in the United States, and now call Canada home. Each place has shaped me in different ways. My Greek heritage remains a very important part of who I am, while my life in Canada has taught me a great deal about community, resilience, inclusion, and the importance of belonging.

I believe leadership is not simply about a title or position. It is about how we treat people, how we respond when things are difficult, and whether the people around us feel heard, valued, and respected.

That belief is at the heart of this publication.

Here, I will share reflections on leadership, emotional intelligence, higher education, healthcare, artificial intelligence, teaching and learning, organizational culture, and professional growth. Some articles will be grounded in research. Others will come from my own experiences, observations, and the lessons I continue to learn along the way.

I am a strong believer in lifelong learning. I do not think we ever reach a point where we have learned enough. There is always another perspective to consider, another question to ask, and another opportunity to grow.

Outside of work, I enjoy travelling, exploring my Greek heritage, spending time outdoors, cycling, photography, and being with family and friends.

I do not have all the answers, and I am not sure that anyone does. My hope is simply to create a space where we can reflect, learn, and have meaningful conversations about leadership, education, healthcare, and the changing world around us.

Thank you for being here.

I look forward to learning together.