I'm writing this from Walt Disney World.

Not a sentence I expected to include in a post about leadership transitions - but here we are.

I'm here with our youngest son for a runDisney race weekend. A 5K on Friday. A 10K on Saturday. A 10-miler on Sunday. We've done these together before, and they've become a rhythm for us - something we share that's ours.

I'm also here with Jacob - friend, collaborator, mentor, coach - and his daughter. During the days, we're in the parks. In the early mornings and late evenings, we're talking about what I'm building, what he's building, and what we're learning together.

Three weeks left at Adobe. And I'm at Disney World.

Some people would call that irresponsible. I call it integrated.

Because here's what I'm learning about transitions: they don't pause for your schedule. The race was on the calendar before I gave notice. My son was counting on it. The time with Jacob was already planned.

The old model of leadership told us to compartmentalize. Work stays at work. Family gets the leftovers. Your own health and friendships fit in the margins, if at all.

I don't want to live that way anymore.

The climb I'm starting isn't just about building a business. It's about building a life where the pieces fit together even better than before - where running with my son, talking with a mentor, and finishing well at a company I've loved for eighteen years can all happen in the same week.

It's not balance. Balance implies everything gets equal weight. This is integration - knowing what matters and making room for it, even when the calendar says it's impossible.

Tomorrow morning I'll be at a starting line with my son before the sun comes up. That's exactly where I want to be.

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