It’s a quiet and cool morning in Philadelphia today…a bit blustery and damp too after springtime storms moved through last night. The cats are in their usual sleeping spots, the city’s waking up, and I’m here—coffee in hand—marking a milestone: one full year of writing on Do Good by Doing Better.
Friday Morning Reflections came about a few months into the journey, and I wasn’t sure exactly where they would lead. I just knew I needed a space to think out loud, and to share ideas and things I notice that you might find useful. To pause and ask ask questions. To explore the edges of change, leadership, technology, and the human experience.
A place to practice thoughtful inspection and introspection that leads to learning and inspiration.
The Genesis
My path to writing wasn’t straightforward. It’s not what I do in my day-to-day work life and I don’t mix the two.
There’s a lot of noise out there and I found myself questioning:
Is my voice truly additive?
It took a nudge from a friend—and a lot of internal questioning—to overcome that doubt and to answer:
What am I about, and what can I offer?
That sparked the idea that has anchored this project ever since:
We can all Do Good by Doing Better.
Not by being perfect. Not by having all the answers. But by staying curious. Reflective. Intentional. By showing up, taking action, making an impact, one act at a time.
It’s about building our capacity for inquiry, experimentation, and learning—skills I’ve come to think of as muscles we strengthen with use. And over the last year, this weekly rhythm has helped me do just that.
Themes and Threads
Many Reflections have explored the intersections of technology, business, culture, and human behavior.
AI has been a frequent thread—and for good reason. In Diving Into the Deep End of AI Literacy (#26), I unpacked the challenge of navigating a landscape littered with unresolved tensions created by new tech that keeps relentlessly evolving.
Getting from Where We’ve Been to Where We’re Going (#10) explored the many moments in professional life when we’re faced with the choice of crossing a chasm, and what we can expect as we move into territory where AI is shaking things up.
But it hasn’t all been about AI.
Mixtapes and Photo Albums (#5) was a reflection on memory—how we curate it, what we keep, and how we make sense of our experiences. In The Creator Economy and Local Media (#3), I wrote about how creators and local media organizations might partner to rebuild communities based on mutual benefit and and symbiotic growth.
What I Learned from Ditching My Plans (#18) captured a more personal moment—when I realized I was not going to be able to do everything that I had wanted to that week—and what I learned in the decision to yield to the reality that was staring me in the face. And in What Happened When I Stepped into the Spotlight (#21), I reflected on what it means to lead authentically, with both clarity and vulnerability.
Each piece, in its own way, is an invitation—to think differently, to act intentionally, to experiment with doing better.
Writing as Practice
This project has taught me that writing is not just a way of sharing—it’s a way of listening, understanding, and building my own knowledge base of wisdom.
These reflections have helped me notice what I think, what I question, and what patterns keep re-emerging. They also are a way to make real the idea that action creates direction—not the other way around.
This shows up in On Reflection... How to Embrace Questions and Navigate Uncertainty, where I explored how leaning into “I don’t know” can open up forward motion, not block it.
And in this space, it’s never been about prepackaged solutions. It’s been about showing up. Paying attention and sharing knowledge. And practice.
The Photo Bonus
The Photo Bonus, the picture that usually accompanies each Reflection, began as something simple—a signal that I actually was up at 5:30 a.m. on a Friday and really doing this, and to connect us together in a moment.
But it’s also more.
My first real job was as a photojournalist—starting as a freelance photographer and later a staff photographer for the Middletown Journal in Ohio. It’s what led me to study television, film, media, art, and design at Ohio University. And the momentum built there is what carried me into digital media when the Internet emerged in the late 1990’s.
For me, photography isn’t just a creative outlet—it’s a way of seeing and understanding. A way of pausing long enough to notice what’s around us and to make sense of it.
At first, I wasn’t sure how to integrate this part of myself into the more professional side of my work. But one Friday morning, I saw the run rising over the neighborhood and pulled out my Polaroid camera, posting it with that morning’s reflection. That image—captured in the moment and then included in my post—linked the two.
Sometimes a photo inspires a story. Sometimes a story leads me to a photo. More and more, they are parts of a bigger idea that I work to refine here.
Looking Ahead
So where does Do Good by Doing Better go in Year Two?
I want to keep exploring the human side of emerging technology. The culture shifts reshaping how we lead and learn. The quiet power of small, intentional choices. I want to experiment more—with format, with collaboration, with the kinds of stories that bring these ideas to life.
And I want to keep hearing from you. What resonated? What didn’t? What are you thinking about that we haven’t touched yet?
This reflection concept works best when it’s not one-way. So if a post this year sparked something for you—a shift in perspective, a question you’re sitting with—I’d love to hear it.
Final Thought
Thanks for being here this past year—for reading, reflecting, questioning, sharing, and learning. I’m honored to be part of your Friday mornings.
So here’s to year two! Let’s keep going—together.
Thinking big. Starting small. Acting now. Measuring results.
And let’s keep doing good by doing better.
Photo Bonus
In the spirit of connecting with a time and place — I’m sharing a moment yesterday evening as I strolled along the Hudson River Greenway at Pier 40 in New York, before rain arrived. The mist, the softness, the edge of the city meeting the river—it felt like the right image to share.
Buildings and bridges, streetscapes, and spaces to live and play are not built in a day. Neither is a body of work. Even as the environment constantly changes along the way. Yet the full picture will emerge one step, one act, one moment at a time.
Writing has been sitting in my Kanban backlog for far too long, waiting for the moment I finally pull it into the “In Development” column and bring it to life.
Your post– especially the point on pairing writing with photography– just brought back a memory—of a poem I once saw printed on a board at a metro station in Newcastle, UK. It stopped me in my tracks. It read:
“Writing is a form of travel, lifting the mind out of its darkening.
The neat margins of ploughed land translating a field into a page;
the sense of a book unfolding its uneven daily narrative;
this large picture of sky, clean as a window,
its weight flattening the horizon into a poorly ruled line on which I read the early morning sun, re-learning what it has to say
Congrats on hitting this milestone, Eric! Sticking with anything for a year is a big deal. Plus, it’s awesome that you’ve found your voice and a way to share your thoughts, insights, and lessons. It’s been great to see you grow and evolve. Cheers to year two!