Years ago, I interviewed for a very important position. Senior leadership.

The kind of role that could define the next chapter of a career.

During the process, I was pulled aside and told something I'll never forget:

"Your detractors say you have your head in the clouds."

It wasn't said as a compliment. It was said as a warning. As a reason I might not get the position. As evidence that I was too visionary to operate within the established way of doing things.

And you know what...They were right.

I do have my head in the clouds. I've always had my head in the clouds. Because that's where strategy lives. That's where vision exists. That's where you see the systems, the connections, the possibilities that everyone operating at ground level misses.

Somebody has to have their head in the clouds. Because if everyone is just executing today's tasks and managing today's crises, who is building tomorrow?

The Bean Counter Who Created Bee Encounters

In different phases of my career, I've earned multiple labels.

First, I was "the bean counter" - dismissed as someone too focused on numbers, too analytical, too concerned with whether the money was actually delivering outcomes instead of just checking compliance boxes.

But here's the irony: Being the bean counter is exactly what broken systems need. Someone who asks, "Show me the return on this $100 million investment. Prove it's working. Where's the data?"

Those aren't comfortable questions. But they're the right questions.

Later, I became known for creating "bee encounters" - I was the person who stirred things up. Who asked uncomfortable questions. Who challenged established processes and demanded better outcomes instead of just better compliance.

I was the disruption people didn't want at the table because I wouldn't just nod along and execute the same failing strategies everyone had been executing for decades.

And you know what? I own both labels.

Because being the bean counter who creates bee encounters is often exactly what broken systems need. Someone who understands the numbers AND isn't afraid to disrupt the processes that waste them.

Bees don't exist to make you comfortable. They exist to pollinate, to create, to make things grow. And yes, sometimes they sting when you get too close to their work.

But without bees, nothing blooms. And without bean counters demanding accountability, billions get wasted on infrastructure theater.

Why President Trump Gets It Whether You Like It or Not

Let me be very clear about something, and I know this is going to make some people uncomfortable:

I align with President Trump's approach to disruption.

Not because I agree with every policy. Not because I endorse every tweet or every decision. And not because I'm here to debate fracking, greenhouse gases, or any specific political position...that's a conversation for another day.

But on the fundamental question of whether bureaucracy, red tape, and entrenched government systems are strangling innovation and accountability?

Yes. Absolutely. And someone needed to grab the bull by the horns and say enough.

Look, I get it. There's a lot of wrath. But let me ask you something:

When was the last time real, systemic change happened comfortably?

It doesn't. It never has. It never will.

Change is supposed to be uncomfortable. Disruption is supposed to challenge the way things have always been done. That's the entire point.

Our citizens look at government and see bloated bureaucracy, endless regulations that don't connect to outcomes, billions spent with no measurable improvement in their lives. And you know what? Perception is reality.

If the perception is that government is too big, too slow, too disconnected from the people it serves, then that perception didn't come from nowhere. It came from lived experience.

Someone has to be willing to disrupt that. Someone has to be willing to take the heat, absorb the criticism, and say: "This isn't working. We're changing it."

That's what President Trump is doing. And whether you like the man, his style, or his politics...give credit where it's due: He's willing to disrupt systems that desperately need disrupting.

Kudos to him for that.

The AI Parallel: Disruption Is Already Here

Here's where this all connects back to infrastructure, AI, and the future we're building:

AI is disrupting everything. And it's not asking for permission.

Just like political disruption, just like regulatory reform, just like every major technological shift in human history...AI is here, it's changing the rules, and it's making a lot of people very uncomfortable.

And you know what I say to the people clutching their pearls and complaining at happy hours and dinner conversations about how AI is going to ruin everything?

Get over it. Seriously. Get over it. AI is here to stay. You can cry about it on the sidelines. You can write think pieces about all the ways it's going to fail or harm society. You can resist, deny, and dig your heels in.

None of that will change the fact that it's happening.

The only question is: Are you going to adapt?

Or are you going to become obsolete while clinging to the way things used to be?

Because adaptation is the name of the game. It always has been. And the people who figure out how to adapt (how to integrate AI into their work, how to use disruption as fuel for innovation), those are the people who will lead the next era.

The ones who don't will be left behind, wondering why the world moved on without them.

Here's the uncomfortable truth about human nature: We are wired to seek comfort.

And comfort is the enemy of growth.

We create bubbles. We build routines. We establish processes that make us feel safe and in control. And then we defend those bubbles with everything we have even when they're killing us.

This is true for individuals. It's true for organizations. It's true for entire societies.

We stay in jobs that drain us because changing careers is uncomfortable.

We keep executing the same infrastructure strategies that don't work because admitting failure and trying something new is uncomfortable.

We resist AI, resist regulatory reform, resist disruption of any kind because disruption threatens the bubble we've built around ourselves.

But here's the thing: Your bubble isn't protecting you. It's suffocating you.

Real growth (personal, professional, societal), only happens when you're willing to step outside that comfort zone. When you're willing to be uncomfortable.

And let me tell you: Disruption keeps you out of the comfort zone whether you like it or not.

When Trump disrupts government bureaucracy, it forces everyone in that system to adapt or become irrelevant.

When AI disrupts infrastructure operations, it forces utilities to integrate their data or fall behind.

When leaders disrupt established processes, it forces organizations to confront whether they're optimizing for outcomes or just avoiding discomfort.

That discomfort is the point.

Because discomfort is where learning happens and adaptation begins.

If you're not demonstrating adaptation as an adult, you have no right to preach it to your children.

You can't tell your kids to embrace change, to learn from failure, to be resilient and adaptive if you're not doing it yourself. That's lip service.

If you're clinging to your comfort zone while the world changes around you, and resisting disruption because it threatens your bubble, then what are you actually teaching the next generation?

You're teaching them to be afraid. To resist. To cling to the familiar even when it's failing them.

Is that the legacy you want to leave?

You can leave all the wealth you want to your children. You can set them up financially, give them every advantage, create trust funds and inheritance plans.

But if you don't leave them clean air, clean water, a functioning environment, and food that isn't contaminated with mercury and microplastics, what have you actually given them?

A bank account they can use to buy bottled water while the infrastructure collapses?

Permission to Fail. But Learn from It

Now, let me be clear about something: I'm not saying we all have to be perfect. I'm not saying we can't make mistakes.

In fact, the opposite.

We have to give ourselves permission to fail.

I've made mistakes. Many of them. Some I'm proud of because they taught me critical lessons. Some I'm ashamed of because I should have known better.

But here's the key: I learned from those mistakes. So yes, give yourself permission to fail. But learn from those failures. Don't repeat them. If you're making the same mistake twice, three times, four times, that's not adaptation. That's incompetence. And the same applies to everyone reading this.

Teaching Adaptation by Living It

Here's what real adaptation looks like:

You have to demonstrate it yourself before you can demand it from others.

You can't tell your employees to embrace AI while you refuse to learn how it works.

You can't tell your organization to integrate data systems while you operate in silos.

You can't tell your children to be resilient while you fall apart every time something disrupts your routine.

You have to live it.

When AI changes your industry, you adapt. You learn. You integrate. You figure out how to use disruption as fuel.

When regulations change, you don't just complain—you find ways to optimize within the new framework.

When political disruption happens, you don't just resist, you look for the opportunities that chaos creates.

That's leadership.

The Head-in-the-Clouds Mandate

So yes. I have my head in the clouds.

Yes, President Trump has his head in the clouds.

Yes, every real leader, every true disruptor, every person who has ever changed anything significant has their head in the clouds.

Because that's where vision lives. That's where you see the future clearly enough to disrupt the present.

But here's the critical piece people miss:

Having your head in the clouds only works if you can also execute on the ground.

Vision without execution is fantasy.

The ones who actually change things are the ones who can see the future clearly enough to know what needs disrupting, and grounded enough to build the systems that deliver better outcomes.

I've spent my career trying to be that person. Sometimes successfully. Sometimes not. But always with my head in the clouds and my feet moving forward.

The bottom line: Disruption isn't comfortable. It's not supposed to be. But comfort is the enemy of growth, and adaptation is the only strategy that survives long-term. Whether it's President Trump disrupting bureaucracy, AI disrupting infrastructure, or leaders like me getting called "head in the clouds" for challenging broken systems...the discomfort is the point. Because that's where real change happens.

So get out of your comfort zone. Learn to fail. Adapt. Evolve. And demonstrate to the next generation what resilience actually looks like.

Or stay comfortable and watch the world move on without you.

Your choice.