The Verification Step That Changes Everything
I like to experiment—tiny experiments with a celebration at the end. Each year I try small things to keep life interesting and intentional.
For example, I’ve been seeing online that 2016 has become a popular posting theme. For some reason, we’re all nostalgic about what we looked like ten years ago. I wonder if in 2036 we’ll do the same thing, scrolling back through our 2026 photos. Who knows?
But when I thought about 2016, my mind immediately went to a specific memory: that was my year of visiting fifty-two coffee shops across the LA area. It also coincided with the Cubs winning the World Series, so 2016 sticks out in my mind for multiple reasons.
Except there was a problem.
I had to go back and check because something felt off. A small doubt crept in, so I questioned myself and dug into my Google Drive archives. Sure enough, I discovered that my “52 Weeks of Coffee” project actually happened in 2015, not 2016.
The important lesson for me wasn’t about the year itself—it was about what could have happened if I hadn’t paused to verify.
Without slowing down to check, I would have built an entire story around information that was incorrect.
Think about that for a moment. I would have confidently shared a memory, woven it into narratives about that year, perhaps even used it as an illustration in conversations or writing. And it would have been wrong. Not maliciously wrong, not intentionally deceptive—just wrong.
Now scale that up.
How often do we see this same pattern occurring in our day-to-day lives? Stories being built, conclusions being drawn, policies being made—all constructed on foundations of information that was never verified? How many decisions, both personal and organizational, rest on assumptions that felt true but were never actually checked?
In leadership, in education, in our communities, we’re constantly presented with information that feels right, that seems to fit our existing narratives, that confirms what we already believed. And when something aligns perfectly with our expectations, we rarely stop to verify it.
But what happens when we don’t?
We make decisions based on faulty premises. We craft responses to problems that may not exist in the way we imagine. We build entire frameworks around narratives that collapse under scrutiny—if anyone bothers to scrutinize them at all.
The slow-down moment matters. The verification step isn’t about doubting everything; it’s about caring enough to get things right before we act on them. It’s about honoring truth over convenience, accuracy over narrative momentum.
My coffee shop mistake was harmless. But in leadership? In policy? In the decisions that affect people’s lives, livelihoods, and futures? The stakes are infinitely higher.
What story are you currently building that might benefit from one more verification step before you move forward?
