On Writing a Book featured an excerpt from my now-published coffee table tome, The Ampersand Chronicles – Stories of a Small but Mighty Business in a Rough and Tumble Town. Penned in November, the post not-so-subtly pushed book sales under the guise of reflecting on the writing process. The excerpt traced a pivotal and peculiar recruitment dinner from April 2008—one that felt like a detour at the time. And yet, hidden in plain sight was the first mention of Jeff Rosin: then just a name on an itinerary, now a business partner and colleague. In hindsight, it reads like a literary Easter egg—a quiet moment from the past that would become a defining thread in the next chapter of our story. Turns out, writing a book can bring clarity not just to where you've been, but to where you're going.

December was a fun little rant about LinkedIn, cheekily titled LinkedOut. It was an end-of-year plea for a bit of authenticity amid the endless parade of hyperbole. Not every career moment needs to be an epic saga or a confessional tearjerker. Sometimes, being content with “just fine” is enough. Maybe if we all dialed back the superlatives and embraced genuine, grounded updates, LinkedIn could become a place where thoughtful connection replaces performative noise. After all, sincerity is a currency that never loses its value.

Skipping January, as we always do—because, really, who wants to read a blog post on New Year’s morning(?!?)—our February edition, Freedom 55, was our second most popular post of the year, according to Mailchimp analytics. Written on the cusp of my 55th birthday, the piece explored how turning 55 isn’t so much a finish line as it is a checkpoint on an ongoing journey. Retirement, I argued, isn’t a switch you flip or a universal destination you reach; it’s a deeply personal transition, shaped more by meaning, purpose, and connection than by a date on the calendar. Judging by the volume of feedback and the candid reflections many shared in response, it clearly struck a chord.

March was a subtle nod to the stable genius south of the border and a cautionary tale about so-called disruptors. In Careful What You Wish For, we explored the double-edged nature of disruption—how what sounds visionary in theory can unravel institutions, cultures, and companies when applied recklessly. From Uber to WestJet and Netflix to Neumann, the piece unpacked the difference between thoughtful transformation and chaos disguised as change. The takeaway? True leadership isn’t about wrecking balls or slogans—it’s about building coalitions, respecting foundations, and knowing what’s worth preserving, not just what’s easy to break.

We took April off, as mentioned, only to return in May with one of the more nuanced and difficult pieces to write—an attempt to explain our decision to part ways with Humanis as thoughtfully as possible. In Breaking Up to Break Through, we described it not as a failure, but as a brief, well-intentioned union that, despite the genuine efforts of both sides, simply wasn’t the right fit. Our new alliance with Amrop Rosin—a firm that elevates our reach and strengthens both our national and global presence—feels less like a rebound and more like coming home. A union built not just on opportunity, but on alignment, mutual respect, and a clear-eyed belief in what we can build together.

Finally, in June, in Wash Shacks & Hood Fans, I reflected on my four-year journey chairing the Love, Camp capital campaign for Camp Chief Hector; one of the most meaningful leadership experiences of my life, rooted in storytelling, community, and connection. With nearly $13 million raised so far, the campaign has delivered the basics—food, shelter, safety—that allow young campers to grow, lead, and thrive. For me, the work became personal, especially watching my own daughter evolve from shy camper to confident guide. Amid a complex world, this was a grounding, joyful reminder that change doesn’t always require grand gestures—sometimes it’s just about showing up, doing the work, and investing in something good.

So as I, and we, reflect on this Canada Day, I’m struck by how many of this year’s stories have, in their own ways, been about identity, belonging, and the quiet power of doing things the right way. Like our move from Humanis to Amrop Rosin, appreciating where we are now doesn’t mean discrediting where we’ve been. As loving Canada doesn’t require a side-by-side comparison with the United States—but some days, it sure doesn’t hurt.

Each post may have felt like a stop along the way, but looking back, they’ve laid a deliberate track—a throughline connecting not just topics, but values. Much like the railway that still threads our country together, these stories remind us that progress depends on shared direction and connection.

This year especially, with tensions in faraway places—and disquiet closer to home, courtesy of our downstairs neighbour—it’s easy to feel unsettled. But I find myself rallying not in defiance, but in quiet gratitude. For a country that still values decency over bluster and sincerity over spectacle. Being Canadian—like being a partner, a dad, a volunteer, or a professional—isn’t about making noise. It’s about showing up, standing firm, and holding fast to the things that matter.

And on this July 1, that feels more than enough to celebrate. Happy Canada Day.

Regards,
Adam