^{A thoughtful newsletter you can read over coffee. If you enjoyed this, share it with your people.}

Would you be surprised if I told you that, since the inauguration, I’ve spent several hours every week hopping from call to call, desperately seeking reassurance from like-minded communities—like someone in recovery on the brink of relapse, looking for a meeting?

Probably Not.

One of the impactful meetings I attended was with the Cooperative Economics Alliance of New York City (CEANYC). It is a space where I continue to learn and witness firsthand what it means to build economic systems that actively resist the extractive dynamics of traditional, mainstream business models.

The gathering was a call to action—a deep dive into what it truly means to operate as a cooperative business in today’s political and economic climate. And let’s be clear: the current climate ( makes me yearn for the aliens to invade) is chaotic, uncertain, and terrifying.

As a Haitian American, my family and I are copying important documents and receiving calls about parents pulling their kids out of school and quitting their jobs. Building help networks and letting folks know their rights. IT’S REAL OVER HERE.

The conversation was equal parts encouragement and reality check, a reminder of both the potential and the challenges of coming down the pipeline.

As I listened to cooperative owners and members share their stories, I was struck by their resilience and their almost ruthless ability to prioritize with love. It wasn’t just about saying no to distractions; it was about saying yes to what truly mattered, even when it was hard.

When everything feels urgent, how do you decide where to focus? I’ve been asking myself this question a lot lately. Between climate crises, political chaos, and the relentless demands of running a business, it’s easy to feel paralyzed.

But here’s what I’m learning: clarity comes from boundaries. By mapping my “spheres of influence”—what I can control, what I can shape, and where I can contribute to systemic change—I’ve found a way to move forward without burning out.

1. Control: What can I directly change in my daily life?

2. Influence: How can I shape my community or workplace?

3. Change: Where can I contribute to systemic shifts?

Control ( Where My Daily Choices Become My Compass) In the smallest moments—how I run meetings, respond to setbacks, or structure my tools—I’m planting flags of integrity.

For example, I’ve started replacing Big Tech tools with open-source alternatives ( check them out below) (control), joined a platform co-op to democratize my work (influence), and donated to movements reimagining ownership models (change). 

Influence (Building Networks That Make Me More Myself)

I’ve stopped chasing “strategic partnerships” and started cultivating relationships that feel like creative kinship.

Change ( Letting Constraints Reveal My Non-Negotiables: When resources tighten, I ask, What if scarcity is my most honest advisor?)

Though my work is primarily around business design and innovation, the lens through which I do that work (inclusion) has been villanized to the point of national tragedy. I have to be prepared to potentially wave through a season of scarcity and go to the other side. But what if I treat scarcity as an opportunity to radically prioritize what I and OPENHOUSE need right now?

It’s not perfect, nor has it removed my need to doom scroll but it’s helped me understand the areas where I need to rally.

This post helps you dive deeper into what this means for you.

What's bringing me joy is bringing back my pre-speaking rituals of dance parties! Like this one before delivering a keynote on 'What is Inclusive Innovation?' for some of the team at Bausch & Lomb—and this was the song making it happen.

A takeaway from that talk that I want to leave you with is the myth about “late adoption.” What if late adoption isn’t about resistant users but early warning systems for bad innovation?