“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” — Leonard Cohen

I love change. I’ve built a career around it. I’m often the person brought in to help organizations move—through growth, restructuring, reinvention, or uncertainty. I trust motion. I understand systems. I believe that staying still is often riskier than moving forward.

But loving change doesn’t mean every change is yours to design.

Some of the most formative shifts in my life have been a mix of choice and consequence—decisions I made deliberately, unfolding inside systems I did not control.

Choosing Change, Living with Systems

I planned to become a single mother. That choice was intentional, grounded, and deeply considered. What I didn’t—and couldn’t—plan was how that decision would intersect with corporate structures, economic cycles, leadership changes, and organizational instability.

I didn’t choose to have my position eliminated at Waste Management. I didn’t choose to experience five reorganizations in six years at Cengage Group. I didn’t choose the moment when it became clear that a startup I was helping lead was running out of funding and likely wouldn’t survive.

But I did choose how to respond to each of those moments.

The Crack Isn’t Failure—It’s Opportunity

As a change agent, I’ve learned to manage the cracks—those moments of strain or disruption—as openings for progress, not just obstacles to endure.

Reorganizations expose misalignment. Role eliminations reveal strategic pivots. Startups falter when vision, timing, and capital fall out of sync. Personal decisions—especially intentional, life-shaping ones—test whether the systems around us are actually built to support real human lives.

The crack is the moment when theory meets reality.

Flexibility With Agency

Flexibility, for me, has never meant passivity or accommodation. It means staying oriented to purpose while adjusting approach. It’s the ability to hold onto direction even as the path shifts.

Becoming a single mother didn’t narrow my ambition; it sharpened it. It forced me to be more intentional about how I spend energy, what kinds of work are sustainable, and which environments are truly aligned with the way I lead and live.

It also made me a better change agent—less enamored with disruption for its own sake, and more focused on durability, clarity, and people.

Letting the Light In—On Your Own Terms

Leonard Cohen’s line resonates with me because it acknowledges both structure and imperfection. Things crack when they’re under strain. That strain can come from growth, from pressure, or from conscious decisions to build something new.

The light doesn’t come from avoiding those cracks. It comes from paying attention to them—understanding what they reveal about the systems we’re in, the choices we’re making, and the futures we’re building.

I choose change. I work in change. I strive in change. And I’ve learned that the most meaningful progress happens when you’re willing to let structure bend, learn from where it fractures, and move forward with even greater clarity.

That’s not failure.

That’s leadership.