Every organization has institutional narratives. These taglines go beyond best practices, they are embedded in the soul of the organization and passed from generation to generation. Sometimes these phrases, often framed as advice, help new members avoid pitfalls. Other times, they are highly problematic. These narratives reinforce how members of the organization think. While such colloquial shortcuts may be efficient, they can lead to poor decision-making. They can also negatively affect retention, resilience, morale, and expectations. Entrenched narratives reduce diversity of thought and ultimately prevent an organization from achieving its full potential. Increasing awareness of these oft-repeated phrases is a necessary first step. A prime example of an organization rife with narrative fallacies, or organizational myths, is the U.S. Army.
The missed opportunity. The presentation we bombed last Thursday. The friendship that quietly faded away.
We can learn from these too.
Sometimes we draw a line in the sand between school and life. School is where we learn. Life is where we live.
We carry that mindset into adulthood, as if the moment they handed us the diploma, the learning stopped. We start to see mistakes in our personal and professional lives as failures, rather than proof that we’re still learning.
So we beat ourselves up when things don’t go as planned. We avoid launching the new venture because we’re scared it will tank. We say we suck at the thing—and we don’t try the thing again.
These moments, all moments, are just learning opportunites—chances for us to figure it out, to figure ourselves out.
New York Times bestselling author Ryan Holiday returns to From the Green Notebook for his third conversation with Joe—this time diving into the themes of his latest and final book in the Stoic Virtues series, Wisdom Takes Work.
In this wide-ranging conversation, Ryan and Joe discuss the importance of curiosity, humility, and deep reflection in a world where shortcuts and surface-level thinking often dominate. They explore how writing, reading, and journaling serve as tools for developing wisdom—and how, for both leaders and creators, clarity of thought begins with clarity on paper.
Listeners will gain insights into Ryan’s approach to writing books, the power of writing as intellectual accountability, and what he’s learned from studying figures like Montaigne, Lincoln, and even Elon Musk. Along the way, Ryan opens up about his own evolution as a writer, the dangers of intellectual arrogance, and why the pursuit of wisdom is a lifelong endeavor.
In this episode, Joe and Ryan explore:
Why wisdom isn’t something you have but something you earn through continuous effort
How writing forces clarity, accountability, and humility in thinking
The danger of “bad bricks” in our belief systems—and how to guard against misinformation
Why note-taking and reflection are a form of “time travel” that benefit your future self
How curiosity and skepticism help protect us from manipulation in an AI-driven world
The difference between intelligence and wisdom—and why power without self-awareness can be destructive
Why Ben Franklin remains a model of intellectual and social intelligence
Whether you’re leading a team, writing your next book, or simply trying to think more clearly, this episode offers a masterclass in slowing down, asking better questions, and doing the hard work of becoming wiser.
Power corresponds to the human ability not just to act but to act in concert. – Hannah Arendt
Spartans, Raiders, and the Pyramid
In the U.S. Army, sustainment operations are more than support functions; they are a battlefield advantage. While many large organizations tend to focus on processes and systems, the reality is that people and culture are integral parts of success. What follows is a discussion and lessons learned from a relationship between a DSSB SPO (Division Sustainment Support Battalion Support Operations) and two BSB SPOs (Brigade Support Battalion Support Operations). Think of the DSSB as a regional team closer to corporate headquarters and the BSB as a franchise team closest to the customer. The relationship demands constant coordination, high stakes, and little room for error. As a DSSB SPO within a sustainment brigade, I worked with two vastly different brigade combat teams: Raider, driven by speed and decisive action, and Spartan, grounded in discipline and deliberate execution.
In theory, these differences should complement one another, with the DSSB (known as Pyramid) acting as the base to set the foundations of the Raiders’ hunger for action and the Spartans’ deliberate, methodical pace to reach a union. In practice, it often felt like a misaligned structure, each shifting in opposite directions. Despite issues and complexity, our team found certain drivers that enabled success. First, all problem-solving should incorporate the lowest capable echelon. Second, validate all requests utilizing a checklist. Third, establish forums that allow all parties to align, troubleshoot, and ratify actions and mission orders. This was all accomplished through four “fighting products” meant to synchronize, coordinate, and validate all parties.
In 1957, Theodor Geisel’s publisher challenged him to create a children’s book with characters, a plot, and all the trappings of a great story using only a first-grade vocabulary list of less than 250 words. He produced The Cat in the Hat. Three years later, his editor issued a new challenge: do it with 50 words. Dr. Seuss answered with Green Eggs and Ham.
How many of us would have looked at that list and said, “absolutely not”? How many of us would have fixated on the limits and grumbled about them to anyone who would listen?
It’s easy to see only the constraints—the list, the budgets, the timelines—and miss the opportunities they create, miss the story we could create.
It’s like looking at a coloring page and seeing only the bold black outline, instead of the space between the lines where we get to choose what color to make the mermaid’s tail.
I used to live in a constant state of frustration because my military career was so busy and I only had limited time to write each day. But, in retrospect, that limited time became a catalyst for my own creativity. It forced me to focus, to make the most of every minute—and in return, it gave me a body of work, outside of work.
Now that I’ve been retired from the military for a year, and have a schedule “without walls” I’ve come to realize that it’s much harder to be productive when it’s up to me to put my ass in the chair, when I don’t have constraints forcing me to sit down and write. In some ways, I kind of miss them.
While constraints do frustrate us, we must also acknowledge their benefits.
I caught The Lumineers in Raleigh this week. During the show, Wes Schultz mentioned that he and his bandmate Jeremiah Fraites have been writing and playing music together for over two decades.
If you are a music fan like me, you know that’s rare!
Most bands don’t even make it past ten. Even one of the most popular groups in history couldn’t hold it together. As Dr. Colin Fisher points out in The Collective Edge: “The Beatles burned brightly for seven or eight years, but by the end, John, Paul, George, and Ringo avoided even being in the same room together.”
So what makes some bands fall apart while others last?
Ego.
In telling his story, Wes said, “To make magic you have to lay your ego down.”
Ego is that voice in our heads that craves credit, that needs validation from the crowd, that would rather look like we have our act together than actually put in the work to, in fact, have our act together.
Dr. Galena Rhoades, coauthor of Fighting For Your Marriage, returns to From the Green Notebook to talk with Joe about the strain that deployments, training, and time apart place on military marriages—and how couples can stay connected through it.
Drawing on years of research and her work helping couples strengthen relationships, Galena explains why separation creates unique challenges, how communication often falls into “just logistics,” and what it takes to keep connection alive across distance. Together, she and Joe unpack lessons that every military family can use—lessons Joe wishes he had known during the nearly five years he spent away from home over his career.
In this episode, Joe and Galena explore:
How to keep communication from becoming only about schedules and logistics
Why friendship talk, support talk, and even conflict talk are essential during separation
The “alternate universe” of deployment, and how to bridge that gap with your partner at home
The emotional boundaries that can erode if couples aren’t intentional about protecting them
Why reintegration isn’t about picking up where you left off, but about building a new relationship on the same foundation
Whether you’re facing your first deployment or your fifth, these insights will help you and your partner navigate the hard parts of separation and come back together with greater strength and understanding.
In this special Notebook Notes episode, Joe sits down with Sergeant Major Urzua and Sergeant Major Brady to discuss the Army Directive 2025-18, with a guest appearance from Sergeant Major of the Army Michael Weimer.
The intent behind the new Army directive and what it means for Soldiers and leaders
Why appearance reflects discipline, professionalism, and Army values
How commanders and NCOs are empowered to enforce standards
Clarifications on what’s included—and not included—in this directive
Timelines for implementation
Broader leadership insights from SMA Weimer on professionalism, trust, and readiness
Why SMA Weimer doesn’t wear Army PT shorts (for now)
Patience is power. Patience is not an absence of action; rather it is “timing”. It waits on the right time to act, for the right principle and in the right way.-Fulton J. Sheen
A Forgotten Principle
An article from Psychology Today makes the case that we live in the age of impatience. In my limited military career, I have witnessed this truth in various individuals, organizations, and myself. The cost of persistent impatience is bigger than we realize. If we don’t slow down, our careers, relationships, and organizations will fail. Clearly, there is an urgent and unrecognized need to be reminded of the power of patience to enhance individual and collective success in the United States Army. Specifying challenges and presenting realistic solutions will equip readers to lead more balanced, fulfilled, and efficient careers and lives.
Does the Army believe patience is important?
The phrase “slow is smooth, and smooth is fast” is often quoted in U.S. Army culture because of its applicability to almost any task. Whether you’re ensuring a good sight picture at the rifle range or preparing an effective brief to senior leaders, this comforting phrase reminds soldiers that we are most efficient when we slow down.
About a year ago, I got into an argument with my wife that spiraled way beyond what we were actually talking about. It began with a question about where to go for breakfast, but escalated into a full-blown shouting match. She said one thing, but I heard something else. She wasn’t questioning my choice of crepes over avocado toast—I heard her questioning my competence. I heard her saying she was better than me.
Later when I had time to reflect, I realized that somewhere beneath the surface, she unknowingly hit a core belief of mine: the one about whether I’m “good enough.”
I’m not sharing this to air my dirty laundry, but to make a point: our beliefs shape how we see and hear everything.
Our beliefs are like walls we build around ourselves. There’s the wall of self-belief. The professional wall. The faith wall. The political wall. Everyone’s walls look different, but they’re all tall, reinforced, and topped with barbed wire.
Most of those bricks weren’t laid by us. The foundation was poured long before we had the maturity to decide what belonged there. A careless comment from an adult when we were in elementary school. An offhand remark from a coach or teacher. A childhood experience that etched itself into memory.
Even as we get older, we mindlessly let others keep stacking bricks for us. Something we saw on TV. A headline on the internet. A post on social media from Uncle Hank. Over time, the walls rise higher, and their foundations grow firmer.
The walls have windows and those windows are the lens through which we see the world. But, the glass is tinted. And through that tint, everything looks distorted—every word, every action, every experience.
That’s why a conversation about breakfast can turn into an unnecessary argument.
That’s why a message left on read can feel like a dying friendship.
That’s why a conversation about politics or faith doesn’t feel like another perspective—it feels like a threat.
And it’s why conspiracy theories and “us versus them” thinking take root. The tint helps us imagine stories that aren’t really there, and enemies that aren’t really attacking us. Those picks and axes we think we see in their hands? More often than not, they’re using them to build and reinforce their own walls.
