From Inbox to Tool Box: What a Day Teaches Us About Balance

The morning kicks off in the usual way: coffee in hand, quick scan of emails, then into the community to check everything’s running smoothly. It’s part habit, part reassurance. A little ritual that keeps the engine humming along.

Behind the scenes, there’s plenty brewing. New projects lined up for the team to review, fresh courses we’re preparing to promote, and even a shiny piece of software that’s caught our attention — the kind that might make life easier not just for us, but for the people we serve. Add in a couple of new connections via LinkedIn, and you’ve got the ingredients for a morning that feels productive and full of promise.

And then… the switch.

Laptop down. Tool bag up. Off to my daughter’s place, where my “to-do” list looks less like project management and more like DIY SOS. Today’s tasks? Fit the TV wall brackets. Put up shelves. Hang pictures. Easy enough. Except, of course, I get roped into sorting the front garden too. Let’s just say it looked more like a thatched roof than a lawn. By the end, I’m sweaty, muddy, and strangely satisfied.

Here’s the thing: these shifts between digital and physical, between strategy and spade work, are where the lessons hide. In the morning I’m talking projects, courses, and software. In the afternoon, it’s brackets, shelves, and lawns. Different worlds — same mindset. You look at the job, break it down, pick the right tools, and get stuck in.

Business is no different. You can’t just sit and think about it. You can’t let the lawn overgrow or the shelves lean against the wall forever. You act. Sometimes imperfectly, sometimes messily, but you get it done.

By the time evening rolls around, I’ve ticked off emails, shared ideas with the team, explored new tools, made a few useful connections, fitted a TV, hung some shelves, and wrestled a jungle of a garden into something resembling order.

Not a bad day’s work.

And that’s the point: progress doesn’t come in one flavour. Some days it’s emails and strategy. Some days it’s screws, brackets, and mud. The trick is embracing both — and loving it.