Two Paths, One Wild New Year: Gratitude for a landmark year, pragmatic optimism for the next one.

Hello Kind and Beautiful Human and Happy 2026!

I’ve always loved that Robert Frost line:

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…”

We usually treat it like a career slogan or a graduation quote. But this year, standing at the edge of 2026, it feels less like a postcard and more like real life.

Not one neat fork in the road.

A whole forest of choices.

If you’re reading this in your inbox, you’ll see the first image at the top: that sunrise pouring through the trees. That’s how this year feels to me—not a clean slate, but light revealing what’s still here after a wild, beautiful, complicated 2025.

Let’s walk into the woods together for a minute.

2025: A Year That Cracked Me Open (In the Best Way)

Before I talk about goals and plans and big ideas, I want to honor the year we just lived through.

2025 was not tidy. It was glorious and exhausting and deeply human.

Love, cake, and not taking anything for granted

On September 20th, Joe and I got married.

Just typing that still makes my chest tighten—in the good way. We cut our cakes (red velvet for him, carrot for me), laughed with family and chosen family, and danced like teenagers who snuck into their own reception.

And under all that joy was this quiet, steady truth: our right to marry is still being debated by people who will never meet us.

I don’t take that lightly. Our wedding was celebration and protest, all in one. A declaration: love exists, love persists, love deserves protection.

Turning 60 and choosing expansion

I also turned 60.

There’s a script for this birthday that whispers, “Time to shrink. Play safer. Get smaller.”

I decided to rip that script up.

Instead, I treated 60 as a launch pad. A chance to double down on purpose, not wind things down. My body reminds me I’m not 30. My spirit refuses to act like the best chapters are behind me.

Travel, wonder, and remembering the world is big

This was a year of travel and perspective.

Portugal, Japan, Korea, China. Coastlines. Airports. New neighborhoods. Old haunts.

Every place I visited reminded me of two things:

Most people, everywhere, are just trying to live a decent life in peace.

Our world is bigger than the narrow story we’re fed by algorithms and outrage.

Walking through unfamiliar streets, I could feel parts of myself wake up again—curiosity, creativity, a sense of awe. Travel is my favorite antidote to cynicism.

The work: words, rooms, and real conversations

Professionally, 2025 was a year of rooms and stories.

• Speaking and book appearances for All Pride, No Ego took me from classrooms to conference stages. My favorite moments weren’t the formal Q&As—they were the quiet conversations afterward, when someone would lean in and say, “I’ve never heard a leader say that out loud before.”

  
  

• The podcast, Jim Fielding & Friends, launched. Sitting across from guests—students, executives, creatives—and talking about leadership, identity, and kindness lit me up in ways I didn’t fully expect.

  
  

• Team trainings and workshops gave me a front-row seat to what organizations are wrestling with right now: burnout, belonging, decision paralysis, and a real hunger for leaders who are actually human.

  
  

• Coaching individuals and teams remained one of the greatest privileges of my life. Being invited behind the curtain into people’s actual lives—fears, dreams, career crossroads—is something I never take for granted.

If 2025 had a headline for me, it might be:

“Cracked open, more honest, and more committed than ever.”

Which brings me to the second image in this newsletter.

We Are All Kintsugi

Midway down, you’ll see a striking image: a face and hand painted white, with cracks traced in gold.

That’s kintsugi—the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer mixed with gold. The point is not to hide the break. The point is to honor it.

I look at that image and think: that’s us.

We are not flawless porcelain. We’re patched and repaired, chipped and mended. We carry divorces, restructurings, layoffs, diagnoses, breakups, burnout, failures, and the quiet moments we’re not proud of.

And yet… here we are. Still standing. Still leading. Still loving.

This year, more than ever, I felt my own “cracks”:

• Times I didn’t have the answer, only better questions.

• Moments when my old armor wanted to snap back into place.

• Days when the news felt too heavy and my hope felt thin.

But here’s what I know at 60:

We are all complex, unique, and wonderful HUMANS. Not branding exercises. Not LinkedIn headlines. Humans.

Those cracks? That’s where the light gets in. And where the light gets out.

The World We’re Walking Into

Now, let’s talk about the forest we’re actually in.

I’m not interested in pretending everything is fine. You’re too smart for that, and so am I.

We’re heading into 2026 with:

Ongoing global conflicts and humanitarian crises.

Economic uncertainty that isn’t abstract—it shows up in rent, tuition, healthcare, and job security.

Intensifying pressure on academic freedom and speech on university campuses, including the ones I’m deeply connected to. Queer and trans students, faculty, and staff continue to navigate environments that are not always safe or supportive.

A level of polarization that turns disagreement into dehumanization at light speed.

The runway to the 2026 midterms, which will have real consequences for democracy, rights, and the communities many of us belong to and love.

That’s the truth.

And yet, I am not hopeless.

What I am is pragmatically optimistic.

Pragmatic optimism is not “everything will work out.”

Pragmatic optimism is: “Things are hard. Some things are getting worse. And I still choose to show up, do the work, and create pockets of possibility.”

This is where Jonathan Livingston Seagull flies in.

Richard Bach writes about a seagull who refuses to fly only as high and as far as the flock expects. He practices. He fails. He tries again. All because he believes there’s more to life than scavenging on the shoreline.

That’s the energy I want to bring into 2026:

More practice. More courage. Less living at the edge of other people’s expectations.

Joe and I decided that this year’s holiday gift to each other would be experiences rather than more “stuff.”

So we planned a New Year’s trip to London and Paris — two cities we love deeply.

We arrived two days ago and have been doing what we came for: museums, cafés, great food, long walks, and that particular kind of joy that only great cities deliver.

And at the same time, we’ve been met by a flood of fast-moving, high-stakes headlines about U.S. posture and actions abroad — and it’s understandably raising questions for many of us.

Travel is restorative.

But it’s also clarifying.

Because the reality is: there’s no “pause button” on citizenship. Even when we’re far from home.

In a participative democracy, our responsibility isn’t just to vote — it’s to stay engaged between elections:

Seek facts before reacting.

• Ask smart, grounded questions of leaders and institutions.

• Challenge professionally and constructively, without dehumanizing anyone.

• Stay focused on priorities, transparency, and outcomes.

• Use whatever platform you have — large or small — to support accountability.

  
  

This isn’t about outrage.

It’s about standards. It’s about the kind of leadership culture we’re willing to accept — and the kind we’re not.

I’m committed to staying informed, staying calm, and staying engaged — and I hope you will too.

What’s one fact-based habit or practice that helps you stay grounded and involved?

What I’m Excited About in 2026

So what does pragmatic optimism look like in my actual calendar?

A few things I’m genuinely fired up about:

TEDx Gainesville – January 31, 2026

At the end of this month, I’ll be on the TEDx stage in Gainesville, Florida, sharing a talk that’s been living in me for years: Ask for An Answer.

Not performative niceness. Not “be kind” posters in break rooms.

Kindness with a spine.

Decision-making, culture-building, and accountability rooted in humanity, not fear. I’ll be talking about what happens when leaders trade certainty for curiosity and ego for service.

I can’t wait to bring that conversation to a wider audience—and I’m a little terrified, which means I’m exactly where I need to be.

More Podcasts debuting on January 8, 2026!

Season one of the podcast was just the beginning.

In 2026, we’ll record more episodes in LA and Atlanta—live, in-person conversations with leaders, students, creatives, and everyday humans doing extraordinary, ordinary things.

My promise: no corporate jargon, no rehearsed talking points. Just real dialogue about what it takes to lead and live with pride and no ego.

New Books and Big Ideas

I’m deep in the early stages of new writing—building on themes many of you have heard me talk about in this space.

I don’t write just to add more content to the universe. I write because I want to put useful tools in your hands—things you can actually apply in your meetings, your classrooms, your boardrooms, and your dinner tables.

Coaching, Speaking, and Advisory Work

I’m energized by the leaders and organizations who are ready to do the work—not just rebrand it.

In 2026, I’m especially excited about:

Partnering with CHROs and CEOs who want cultures where belonging, performance, and accountability coexist.

Continuing work with universities and philanthropic partners who are fighting to protect learning, speech, and safety for all students.

Coaching individuals who are at inflection points: promotions, pivots, reinventions, and “I can’t live like this for five more years” moments.

If that sounds like you or your organization, you know where to find me.

Thank You for Walking With Me

As I look back on 2025 and ahead to 2026, one feeling stands above the rest:

Gratitude.

To my clients and partners who trusted me with your teams and your culture.

To event organizers and hosts who handed me a microphone and a room.

To students who asked brave questions and told me the truth about their lives.

To podcast guests who showed up unfiltered.

And to you—for opening these emails, forwarding them, sharing them, and letting my words into your Sunday or your Wednesday or your inbox backlog.

You allow me to show up as my whole, loud, queer, recovering-perfectionist self.

That is the greatest professional gift of my life.

Here’s to 2026:

May your path be honest.

May your community be strong.

May your cracks be lit with gold.

And may we all keep choosing the road that leads us closer to each other—and to our most human, courageous, radically kind selves.

With love and pragmatic optimism,

Jim 🌈

ONE FINAL THOUGHT: GO BIG RED!! Indiana University in the Peach Bowl on January 9th, in the CFP National Semi-Final in ATLANTA!! HOOOOOOSIERS!!