Category: Thought Leadership

An Alive Day

Lately, I’ve been noticing the quiet shift outside my window. The air feels different. The light hits the trees at a new angle. The maples out front are starting to trade their greens for golds, and each morning the ground looks a little more like a mosaic of change.

Nature never fights its transitions. It doesn’t cling to summer or rush into winter. It simply moves, faithfully, rhythmically, through each season.

But we humans? We tend to resist change. We hold on tight to what’s known, what feels safe, even when something deeper in us knows it’s time to grow.

In my new book, Being HumanKind, I talk about the states of being, the simple, intentional ways we can live and lead with more purpose and compassion. Here are a few that have been echoing in my heart as the seasons shift.

Being Still

When life starts changing, our instinct is to move faster, fix it, figure it out, make it make sense. But Being Still invites us to pause long enough to actually feel the change, not just react to it. Stillness is the space between breaths where clarity whispers. Sometimes the most courageous thing we can do is simply stop and listen.

Being Present

Change tends to pull our attention toward what was or what might be. Being Present brings us back to what is. It’s noticing the crunch of leaves underfoot, the warmth of your morning coffee, the laughter in your kitchen before the day begins. When we’re truly present, even endings can feel like beginnings.

Being Grateful

Every season asks us to let go of something, the light, the rhythm, the familiar comfort of what was. Gratitude reframes loss. It says, thank you for what has been, and I trust what’s next. Being Grateful reminds us that change doesn’t erase goodness; it multiplies it in new ways.

Maybe that’s what this season is here to remind us, change isn’t something to fear, it’s something to partner with. The more I learn, the more I believe that living human-kind means allowing ourselves to evolve, to soften, to be reshaped by time, love, and grace.

Wherever you are in your season, whether you’re shedding, resting, or blooming, remember: you don’t have to rush. The most beautiful transformations are rarely fast.

Try This: Take ten minutes this week to notice what’s changing in and around you. Ask yourself:

  • What season am I in right now—in my work, relationships, or spirit?
  • What might I need to release?
  • What might be waiting to grow?

Go Be: Be Still. Be Present. Be Grateful. Be Human. Be Kind.

— Justin

In Being HumanKind, the first section is called Foundations of Being—five ways of grounding your life in what matters most: Being Positive, Being Kind, Being Still, Being Present, and Being Grateful. Over the next few weeks, I’ll share reflections on each of these “foundations” and how they can shape the way we live, lead, and love.

Originally Posted On Justin Ahrens LinkedIn

The Foundations of Being

n Being HumanKind, the first section of the book is called Foundations of Being for a reason. Before we can lead others, grow something meaningful, or build work that lasts longer than the next news cycle, we have to decide how we’re going to show up in the world. Not in a glossy, Instagram-filtered way, but in the quiet, everyday moments that reveal who we really are.

These foundations: Being Positive, Being Kind, Being Still, Being Present, and Being Grateful, are the roots of a life that can withstand the weather.

I keep coming back to this image of a tree. Not the picturesque one with perfect symmetry and a swing hanging from its branches, but the kind you see on a windy Midwestern day, the kind that leans, bends, maybe even cracks a little, but still stands.

A tree doesn’t survive because of the branches everyone can see. It survives because of the roots that no one applauds, no one posts about, no one gives a trophy for. Those unseen roots do the real work.

And honestly, that has been true in my own life far more times than I wish were necessary.

I’ve been through storms. You probably have too. Storms in business. Storms in family. Storms in my own head.

There were seasons where everything felt like it could topple. And when I look back, the thing that kept me upright wasn’t creativity or hustle or some strategic masterstroke. It wasn’t luck either. It was the quiet practices, the roots, I had planted long before the winds picked up.

Hope. Kindness. Stillness. Presence. Gratitude.

Not glamorous. Not headline-worthy. But essential.

Over the next few weeks, I’m going to share reflections on each of these foundations, how they’ve shaped my life, how I’ve failed at them, how I’ve found my way back, and how they can ground you in a world that seems intent on pulling us in every possible direction.

But before we get to each one, here’s a glimpse of what these foundations can offer:

Being Positive helps you see opportunities where others only see obstacles. It’s not blind optimism. It’s choosing the story you tell yourself.

Being Kind builds bridges that talent, titles, and clever strategies never could. It’s the leadership trait we most admire but practice the least when life gets tight.

Being Still gives you clarity in a world that profits from your distraction. And trust me, the world profits from your distraction.

Being Present reminds you that the most important moment is the one right in front of you. Not the one you missed. Not the one you’re chasing.

Being Grateful reframes scarcity into abundance. It turns “not enough” into “I already have what I need to start.”

These aren’t extras. They’re essentials, for every leader worth following, every relationship worth keeping, and every legacy worth leaving.

And here’s maybe the most important thing: Foundations aren’t built once. They’re built over time. Reinforced over time. Strengthened by every small, quiet choice we make when no one’s paying attention.

Every pause before reacting. Every act of kindness no one notices. Every whispered “thank you” even when life feels unfair.

All of it grows your roots.

The winds will come. The storms will come. The question isn’t if, but when.

And when they do, what will you be standing on?

This is what the Foundations of Being are all about, choosing the kind of roots you want. Not so you merely survive the storm, but so you grow through it.

If you’d like early access to Being HumanKind updates, behind-the-scenes writing, or early release info, you can sign up at behumankind.today, or just shoot me a message on LinkedIn and I’ll add you to the list myself.

More soon.

—Justin

Originally Posted On Justin Ahrens LinkedIn

The Seasons Are Changing, and So Are We

Lately, I’ve been noticing the quiet shift outside my window. The air feels different. The light hits the trees at a new angle. The maples out front are starting to trade their greens for golds, and each morning the ground looks a little more like a mosaic of change.

Nature never fights its transitions. It doesn’t cling to summer or rush into winter. It simply moves, faithfully, rhythmically, through each season.

But we humans? We tend to resist change. We hold on tight to what’s known, what feels safe, even when something deeper in us knows it’s time to grow.

In my new book, Being HumanKind, I talk about the states of being, the simple, intentional ways we can live and lead with more purpose and compassion. Here are a few that have been echoing in my heart as the seasons shift.

Being Still

When life starts changing, our instinct is to move faster, fix it, figure it out, make it make sense. But Being Still invites us to pause long enough to actually feel the change, not just react to it. Stillness is the space between breaths where clarity whispers. Sometimes the most courageous thing we can do is simply stop and listen.

Being Present

Change tends to pull our attention toward what was or what might be. Being Present brings us back to what is. It’s noticing the crunch of leaves underfoot, the warmth of your morning coffee, the laughter in your kitchen before the day begins. When we’re truly present, even endings can feel like beginnings.

Being Grateful

Every season asks us to let go of something, the light, the rhythm, the familiar comfort of what was. Gratitude reframes loss. It says, thank you for what has been, and I trust what’s next. Being Grateful reminds us that change doesn’t erase goodness; it multiplies it in new ways.

Maybe that’s what this season is here to remind us, change isn’t something to fear, it’s something to partner with. The more I learn, the more I believe that living human-kind means allowing ourselves to evolve, to soften, to be reshaped by time, love, and grace.

Wherever you are in your season, whether you’re shedding, resting, or blooming, remember: you don’t have to rush. The most beautiful transformations are rarely fast.

Try This: Take ten minutes this week to notice what’s changing in and around you. Ask yourself:

  • What season am I in right now—in my work, relationships, or spirit?
  • What might I need to release?
  • What might be waiting to grow?

Go Be: Be Still. Be Present. Be Grateful. Be Human. Be Kind.

— Justin

In Being HumanKind, the first section is called Foundations of Being—five ways of grounding your life in what matters most: Being Positive, Being Kind, Being Still, Being Present, and Being Grateful. Over the next few weeks, I’ll share reflections on each of these “foundations” and how they can shape the way we live, lead, and love.

Originally Posted On Justin Ahrens LinkedIn

Why Presence Is the Last Human Medium

My friend Steven McCormick sent me an article by Derek Thompson called Everything Is Television, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. His premise is hauntingly simple: everything that isn’t already TV is turning into it. Social media, podcasts, even AI, all of it bending toward a continuous stream of video designed to keep us watching, scrolling, and half-listening.

He’s right. But what struck me most wasn’t the technology. It was what’s vanishing underneath it, the quiet, human parts of us that know how to pay attention.

Because if everything is becoming television, then maybe the last truly human act is to look up, notice, and be here.

We’ve Mistaken Connection for Contact

I’ve spent my career in design and storytelling. And for Rule29 and O’Neil Printing that is where my headspace is day in and day out. I love the tools we have today, they can amplify voices, ideas, and movements in ways that once felt impossible. But something has shifted.

We’ve built platforms that promise connection, yet they deliver only contact. We see more people than ever, but we feel fewer of them.

Attention used to be about care. When you designed, listened, or created, you gave a piece of yourself. You noticed someone else’s world for a moment. Now attention is something to be monetized, traded in seconds, measured in views, and optimized by an algorithm that never sleeps.

We’ve replaced the human pause with infinite play.

Attention Is the New Act of Kindness

Kindness isn’t a personality trait, it’s a practice.

And in that sense, attention might be our most radical form of kindness. To look someone in the eye when they speak. To listen without planning your response. To see beauty in the ordinary, even for a moment.

In a culture that rewards speed and spectacle, slowing down is a quiet rebellion.

When you choose presence over performance, you’re reminding yourself, and the people around you, that not everything has to compete for your attention. Some things deserve it.

That is one of the reasons I’m writing and publishing my book Being Humankind. It’s a reminder that we can live differently, that attention, gratitude, and compassion aren’t luxuries. They’re how we stay human in a world that keeps asking us to forget.

Technology Isn’t the Villain

Thompson points out that even artificial intelligence now wants to be television, endless streams of AI-generated video made for no one in particular.

But I don’t believe technology is the villain here. Our intentions are.

AI, design, and storytelling are tools. They can distract, or they can deepen. They can make us scroll faster, or they can help us see each other more clearly. The difference comes down to purpose, who we’re designing for, and why.

Maybe the real invitation is this: Instead of asking how to get more attention, we should be asking how to give it.

What We Lose When We Stop Paying Attention

Thompson ends his essay mourning the loss of inwardness, our capacity for solitude, reflection, and meaning that doesn’t need an audience.

That resonated deeply with me. Because when we lose our inwardness, we lose the space where empathy grows.

Stillness is where we remember what matters. It’s where we start to listen to the parts of ourselves that don’t need to be seen to be real. It’s where kindness begins, in noticing, not performing.

Without that, everything, our work, our relationships, our creativity, starts to flatten.

What We Can Do

If everything is turning into television, maybe the answer isn’t to turn it off. Maybe it’s to turn toward one another.

Tell better stories. Design for presence. Use technology with intention. Create moments that invite people to feel something real.

Attention isn’t just about focus, it’s about love. It’s the willingness to be fully where you are, with who you’re with.

When we practice that kind of noticing, in our work, our homes, and our communities, we begin to change what our culture values. We begin to make meaning again.

Maybe that’s the next evolution of media. Not everything becoming television. But everything becoming human again.

I explore this and similar ideas in my new book, Being Humankind — coming soon. If you’d like to follow along and get updates, visit behumankind.today.

#BeingHumankind #AttentionIsLove #PresenceOverPerformance #HumanConnection #CreativeImpact #DesignForGood

Originally Posted On Justin Ahrens LinkedIn