Podcast
Better Today Than Yesterday
Hosted by by Kelly Vohs · EN
Hey! Join me as I share my lessons about life, leadership, and the peaceful pursuit of Better Today Than Yesterday.
kellyvohs.substack.com
kellyvohs.substack.com
33episodes
Episodes
Newest firstAll episodes
Will It Charge
Mar 1500:03:15Tap to summarize“You are more than halfway to 90.”One of the kids said that the other day. For some reason, it doesn’t bother me. Gramma is 93 and still going. I do think about how I use my time. Feels like a fight to do everything that needs doing.Maybe it’s a better calendar system. Maybe it’s the 18th to-do app, integrated with a meeting transcription tool, connected with another that surfaces everything each morning. There’s no shortage of 20-somethings on YouTube who have it figured out. A tomato timer. A color-coded calendar. An index card. Or fifty. What they haven’t realized is that we won’t get to everything. There is peace in coming to grips with that. If you understand that, you stop trying to make it all work. You let go a little. And just do.If our life lasts as long as the average person, we have about 30,000 sunrises. As someone said to me recently, “the truth gets lost in averages.” Maybe we should care less about how we manage our time, and more about what we fill it with. Not efficiency. Not output. Use. Because if we fill it with the right things, it will fill us up.The most efficient me will never beat the most energized me.My phone has never run out of time. It runs out of charge. Plug it in and it works. Simple. I’m not so different.What gives me energy?* A long run on a hot day. T-shirt feels like you jumped in a pool kind of run.* A real conversation. Talk about real things.* A sunrise. A cup of coffee. Maybe together. Maybe with someone. Maybe not.* A problem that matters. Doesn’t have to be big. Just important.* An adventure with people I love. Exploring. Learning.* A person who gives more than they take.* Work that helps. When someone feels it.Do you remember the movie Cocoon? If you’re over forty, probably.Aliens come. Their cocoons are at the bottom of a pool. A group old timers start swimming in it. They don’t know why, but they feel young again. More alive. More themselves. The pool gives them something they didn’t know they were missing. I keep thinking I’d love to take Gramma for a swim in it. Maybe we could kick the walker.What they didn’t realize was that their swimming was draining the aliens inside those cocoons. Giving energy costs something. People don’t burn out because they run out of time. They burn out because they run out of energy. And usually, hope.These days I’m less worried about how efficient I am with my time. I’m more worried about where I spend it. Will it charge me or drain it? Will the people I do it with give energy or take it? If you’re not in the right place with the right people, it doesn’t matter how long you plug your phone in. It won’t charge.Hard work will make you tired. Like a good run. The right work, with the right people, will make you want to do it again tomorrow.And sometimes our job is to be the pool, to give people the charge they need at that moment. Like one of those little battery backups for your phone you drag through the airport.Time matters. Energy matters. Only so many sunrises. If you can get both working together, maybe that’s the key.Take care. Be good. -Kelly This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit kellyvohs.substack.com
Transcribe →
Wake Zones
Mar 800:04:03Tap to summarizeThe air tasted like salt and diesel.The Statue of Liberty was coming up on my left.This was the summer before my freshman year.We were delivering a luxury yacht from South Jersey all the way to Old Port Montreal. I was the deckhand. I’m pretty sure the job was just a favor to my stepfather. But maybe not. Like most things in my life, this wonderful opportunity came through relationships. Looking back, I’m not sure how I got so lucky.We brought her up the Jersey coast and around the bend. Just past the tip of Manhattan, the captain had us pull over. Fenders out. Stark white against old wooden pilings.He said he could feel a light shimmer when we were on plane. “On plane” is when the boat comes out of the water and rides on top instead of pushing through. He suggested maybe he’d hit something along the coast. A buoy, maybe. A ding in the prop. “That would do it”, he told me.He handed me a mask and told me to check the props. I looked at him. I looked at the water. And looked back at him. Behind him, the Twin Towers.This was the nineties, and it was the Hudson. I was pretty sure humans weren’t supposed to swim in this anymore. I can still feel the artificially rough deck under my feet. He had me tie a rope around my waist. A bowline, really the only knot I knew. He nodded with approval. I sat on the edge and eased myself into the water. I wasn’t afraid of hepatitis. I was afraid of the monsters under the dock. I’ve always been that way around docks. Still am.The water was cold. And murky. I could barely see my hand in front of my face. A green-brown gradient haze. I ducked under the stern and kicked my way to the props, heart pounding. They came out of the murk. I couldn’t find anything wrong. But if we’re being honest, I didn’t look that hard. I was more concerned with what might eat me. No logic there, just fear.I still wonder if the captain really felt a shimmer. He was probably just doing what some captains do to brash eighteen-year-old deckhands.We kept heading north. Up the Hudson and into the Erie. Everything you might imagine. Small villages. Trees hanging over glass-like water. Kids in canoes. Almost the entire way, these waters were meant to be taken idle or just above. Go it slow. Not up on plane. And definitely not for a boat of this size.When we made it into Canada, the owner joined us. I’ll save you his name because you’d know his company. Maybe your kids play with his toys. This was his new toy. He wanted to drive. The captain obliged, but asked: “please, go easy. This is a no wake area. These waters aren’t meant for our kind of wake.”He looked up at the captain with a smirk. The kind of “whatever, I’m in charge” smirk. He grabbed both throttles in one hand and pushed them all the way forward.The propellers bit. The stern dug down. She pushed forward and picked up momentum. Soon several million dollars of fiberglass, steel, and ego were up on plane. I like to think those waves were six feet high, but I know that’s not true. I tend to exaggerate things when I look back, good or bad. They were easily three feet though, and they did what you’d expect. Fanning out on both sides, they rolled docks, tossed canoes, and sent people on shore into a rage. Some just stood there in awe of the audacity. This was not what you do here. He didn’t care. This was his time.The Mounties were waiting for us at the next lock. We could see them as we approached. The captain was almost in a panic. This was his license on the line. It turned out okay. We got off with a fine. But the lesson was real.We move through the world and through people’s lives, and behind us is a wake. It spreads out. The energy helps or it hurts.I’ve been thinking about my wake. Not necessarily slower. Or less. But intentional. Or at least aware.Take care. Be good.–Kelly This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit kellyvohs.substack.com
Transcribe →
Lost Lesson
Jan 2500:01:30Tap to summarizeI heard once: you don’t always need new books. Sometimes, you need the old ones again.So, I’ve been re-reading favorites. In one of those, I found the metaphor of the horse and the rider.The rider is the rational self. The logical part of you. The horse, your emotions. Those emotions are your fuel for action. The energy and power that moves you. Sometimes helpful, sometimes not.Some riders can be very controlling. Thighs squeezed tight against the horse, reins pulled close. Others let their emotions own their direction. The horse goes where it wants.When the rider and horse work in balance, you get the best version of you. You harness that emotional energy in a good direction.It makes me think of advice I got from an old timer once.We were in the desert. Crisp, cool air. Wonderful early morning colors. He said, “When you have to go uphill, lean forward. The horse knows how to get up. Don’t try to control her, just let her walk up one step at a time. She may slip a little, but she’ll recover.”The funny part of all this? When I went searching for the original version of this horse and rider story, I found BTTY No. 89. I’ve shared this story with you before, but forgot. So, that’s me sitting here shaking my head. A lost lesson. I’m glad it’s back.Take care. Be good.–Kelly This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit kellyvohs.substack.com
Transcribe →
Scotch & Signal
Aug 1700:01:33Tap to summarizeIt’s Sunday night. He has his favorite bottle of scotch and is settling into his weekly ritual: reading emails from every employee, each listing their top five priorities — a practice Jensen Huang started in the early days of NVIDIA. For him, this was about getting early signals. It was definitely about control too.From the outside, some might call that micromanagement. Maybe even a bad practice. I’d call it unconventional. Bad practices fail. You’ll lose, get fired, or maybe even jail.Best practices are just common practices with good PR. Safe. Predictable. Average.Unconventional practices. At first glance, you might even mistake them for bad. But often they’re what we’ll do tomorrow. Ford’s assembly line was unconventional once. Misunderstood until they aren’t.What we’re really after is extraordinary. More than ordinary. That takes the courage to explore until you find what’s right. Not what everyone else says is right.Sometimes that means taking an unconventional path. Sometimes it just means executing the basics so brilliantly you beat everyone else. Extraordinary lives in both places. In the practices no one understands yet, and in the fundamentals no one bothers to masterTake care, friend. Be good.—Kelly This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit kellyvohs.substack.com
Transcribe →
Conflict Is Not the Problem. Ego Is.
Aug 1000:05:09Tap to summarize“Ego is about who’s right. Truth is about what’s right.” —Tribe of MentorsI was chatting with Princess Buttercup the other night.She’s built an incredible business. It has a real impact on people. Reflecting on something I was dealing with, I said to her, “I wonder if there are only two states when running a business. On the floor in the fetal position or euphoria.”When you’re in the thick of building something, most days are just a series of problems to solve. And the bigger your responsibility, the more those problems sit somewhere on the spectrum of hard, bad, or maybe even cataclysmic. That last one is rare. Most things are solvable. Problem solving is what we do for a living—all of us. We have jobs because there are problems to solve. And while most people don’t like finding problems, not finding them is worse. Finding a problem is finding a place to get better. To make the business more valuable. Or to shore up an area where you’re exposed. So, relish the new problems. They’re a gift.Early in my career, I felt I had to solve the problems myself. Maybe that’s natural. The younger we are, the more we think we know. Or maybe we’re just less willing to look foolish. That was me. But holding a position doesn’t mean you have all the answers. Usually, there’s someone closer to the pain who sees the way through.At some point, I realized the job of a leader isn’t to have all the answers. It’s to make decisions and make sure the team has what it needs to execute. Leadership begins when the path is unclear. Take out the flashlight, or machete, or whatever, and go. Sometimes that direction leads to an outcome that’s not ideal. But you still decide.From all of this I know I’m not responsible for the answers. I’m responsible for the decisions.I’ve still got a long way to go on managing my ego, my need for approval, and my fear of letting people down. But my default now is to put the people closest to the problem in the room and ask, “What do we want to do?”When the answer isn’t clear, people will disagree. Ideally, they will.During a leadership meeting at GM, Alfred Sloan once asked, “I take it we are all in complete agreement on the decision here?” When the room nodded, he said, “Then I propose we postpone further discussion until our next meeting, to give ourselves time to develop disagreement and perhaps gain some understanding of what the decision is all about.”That’s when the real work begins. Because conflict over the solution is healthy. What’s not often spoken is this: there are two kinds of conflict.Personal conflict and problem conflict.Personal conflict shows up when we’re protecting something. Sometimes it’s internal: fear, insecurity, the need to look smart or stay in control. Sometimes it’s external: status, power, recognition, resources. Either way, it pulls focus. It keeps us from listening. It turns the conversation into defense instead of discovery.Problem conflict is grounded in standards and craft. Driven by the desire to get to the right answer, not be the right answer. That’s what people mean when they talk about “healthy conflict.” It’s not about ego. It’s about better. It doesn’t attack people. It attacks the problem.The hard part is that these two are often tangled together. We think we’re having a good, healthy debate, but what we’re really doing is protecting something—usually ourselves. And often we don’t even realize it.I’m working on that. On recognizing when I’m in the way. Most of the time it’s not intentional. It’s just ego. Or fear. Or maybe I’m just tired. But when I let that lead, I stop listening. I get stuck defending. And nothing moves.We can’t forget—or ignore—that people show up differently in conflict. Some go quiet. Some get loud. Some need to talk it through and might sound like they’re rambling. Others hold back until they feel safe enough to speak. That doesn’t mean they’re not paying attention. It just means they process things differently.If you want the best answer, you need the whole room.Different perspectives. Different styles. All heard. All understanding. All contributing. That’s how you get somewhere.So here’s where I’ve landed.Conflict is good. But it has to be the right kind, and we need to be aware of the messy middle when personal and problem conflict overlap.When we check our ego and fear at the door, not only will everyone be happier, but we will get better answers. Importantly, we can’t control other people, but we can control how we show up.More truth. Less defense.More listening. Less protecting.More understanding. Less justifying.That’s where better lives.Take care, friend. Be good.—Kelly This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit kellyvohs.substack.com
Transcribe →
Excellence
Aug 3, 202500:01:27Tap to summarize“The quality of a person’s life is directly proportional to their commitment to excellence.”—Vince LombardiI don’t think it’s entirely true. Plenty of people are deeply committed to excellence and still face hardship. Circumstances, ancestry, DNA, luck—those things all matter.But it’s likely mostly true. Life tends to get better, richer (whatever that means to you), and more meaningful in proportion to how seriously you pursue excellence.Excellence is personal. It means something different to each of us. Your definition and mine are probably not the same. And while I think comparing yourself to others is generally a bad idea, if you never compare yourself to anything real—someone better, something harder—how do you know your standard means anything at all? It might just be hollow. Just comfort dressed up as conviction.Maybe real excellence happens when it collides with reality. And the truth is, reality often exists outside your own head.It’s easy to avoid that. Hard to confront it.That moment when you say, maybe I’m not as good as I think.Or maybe that wasn’t as good as I thought.Of course, there are exceptions. You and I can look at the same piece of art and feel completely different things. So maybe, like just about everything else, excellence isn’t fixed.Maybe the standard moves.Maybe there are always new ones.Maybe none of us are right.But I do think this is true:Not everyone who commits to excellence finds an excellent life. But no one finds it without the commitment.Take care, friend. Be good.—Kelly This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit kellyvohs.substack.com
Transcribe →
Tangled
Jul 27, 202500:04:22Tap to summarize"Bravery is a subjective virtue measured by how much insecurity, vulnerability, and resistance have been overcome when you’re afraid." -Mark MatousekI keep a journal.One of my favorite things about journaling is looking back on the same day from other years. Some days there are no entries. Today, there were 17. One jumped out.I'm in NYC.Mixed emotions.I'm a little tight. Not sure why.But I just read something that struck me.We all have a natural desire to:* Believe we're in control of our time. To operate with free will. * Be intelligent. Even if only in our way. * Be good(Those are from Robert Greene)Anything that challenges those beliefs makes us feel trapped, foolish, or morally wrong. That hurts. It creates frustration, sadness, maybe even shame.That was two years ago. As I write this, I'm not in NYC. Lots of other things have changed. Kids went to college, jobs changed, and a few other things too—some painful, some joyful. I think I'm better than I was that day. At least a little more clear-eyed. And those filters still feel relevant. Still helpful.TimeWhen I protect my time for what matters most, I’m better. Happier. And so are the people around me. I can’t control it all, but I need to control what I can.If I am not intentional with my time, someone else will be. The cost is real. Doing the wrong things, missing what matters, or showing up without the energy to make it count.Sometimes it means another meeting. Sometimes it means solitude. Or showing up fully at family dinner. I have a strong drive to keep charging, but I’ve learned I also need to stop and recharge.I don't have all the answers. But I know this: saying yes to everything does not work. We need to normalize saying no if we want to use this resource well.IntelligenceYou might be book smart, emotionally intelligent, or my personal favorite, high in CQ, Courage Intelligence. Maybe, if you’re one of the fortunate, you’re graced with all three.Some people worry about being smart. I know I have. I still do sometimes. But I think most of the world is working to avoid looking foolish.The ability to look foolish to learn is a superpower.It's a trade. You give up the arrogance that you might know everything, and in exchange for the humility that you probably don't know much at all.When we shift from trying to have all the answers to simply trying to find the right one, that is probably the most productive place we can be.GoodnessThis one hits for me. Most of us want to be seen as good, but what we really want is to be accepted. Even to be loved. This is where we give people the most power. Our actions or inaction are viewed through their lens, their mood, and all the other complexities that come with being human. Our fears, stories, and expectations get tangled up with theirs.Am I a good friend? A good partner? A good leader? A good person?“Fail” at this, and it pushes on identity. When that sense of goodness feels shaken, it’s worth asking more questions.Did I actually do something wrong? Am I being misunderstood?Or is the other person dealing with something of their own, and this isn’t really about me? More often than not, that’s the case.What I’ve found is that when do I get it wrong, it’s rarely about intent. It’s about impact. I meant well. It didn’t land well. That can be painful. But it’s rarely permanent.Being wrong or making a mistake doesn’t mean you’re not loved. Or even liked. It doesn’t mean you’re not good. It just means there’s work to do.When I feel off-center, I'm trying to slow down and ask better questions.* What's going on with my time?* Am I chasing someone else’s approval?* Am I letting their reaction shape how I see myself?Most of the time, they’re just working through their own stuff.We all are.Take care. Be good.—KellyMore on Courage Intelligence (CQ): This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit kellyvohs.substack.com
Transcribe →
Stowaway
Jul 20, 202500:01:50Tap to summarize"One of the most confounding laws of human nature is that when faced with a task, people will work harder alone than they will when joined in the effort—a phenomenon known as social loafing. There is, however, an antidote. It’s the presence of one person who leaves no doubt that they are giving it everything they’ve got." -Sam Walker, The Captain ClassA story stuck with me this week. A colleague shared it, having picked it up from someone else. Stories travel like that. He was talking about a special company. The kind that, when you add it to your LinkedIn, you shine a little brighter. It feels like you've achieved something, even if you haven't done anything yet. You're riding their train. The bigger the company, the easier it is to do that. But it's not a train or a bus. Both carry mostly just riders. I see a ship. A Viking ship. Not the pillage-and-destroy kind, but the explore-and-find kind. Adventure. Purpose. Direction. It has long benches with no space for stowaways to hide. When there's no wind and the tide is against you, everyone matters. And, it's not just about effort. It's about alignment, pace, rhythm, and the people next to you. Are you helping or hurting? Yet still, things change. I've woken up to realize that I've been in the wrong seat and even on the wrong boat. When that happens, it's on me to do what's right for the team. Get back in the fight, or pick a different journey. Take care, friend. Be good. —Kelly This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit kellyvohs.substack.com
Transcribe →
Cost
Jun 15, 202500:03:12Tap to summarize“Responsibility means recognizing both pleasure and price, action and consequence, then making a choice.” — Dan MillmanThere’s a word most people don’t want to be associated with.It sounds sharp. Dangerous. Maybe even wrong. But try building anything that matters without it.In 1961, psychologist Arnold Buss described two kinds of aggression. One hostile, driven by anger and meant to hurt. The other instrumental and driven by purpose. This doesn’t come with rage, but intention. A response, not reaction. This is focused energy that is not violent but has no apologies for pursuit.Be a good partner. Raise strong kids. Build something that matters. That takes aggression.Aggression in the service of love. Aggression in the pursuit of truth. Aggression in the protection of what matters.It’s not just helpful, it’s required.The word relentless resonates with me too. But like grit or resilience, it feels safe. If you call someone resilient that is usually a compliment. It means you show up, don’t quit, take the pain and move anyway. That’s necessary, but not the full story. And not enough.Sometimes, banging your head against an obstacle doesn’t move it. Maybe that’s when the relentless call on aggression.Not recklessness. Risk. Attack.Call someone aggressive and most of the world flinches. And maybe that’s the point. Fitting in feels safe and that’s why most people do it. Safety in numbers. But you risk getting stuck in someone else’s discomfort. And that can keep you small.Show me a parent whose child is threatened or sick. Or a parent of a child with special needs. They won’t just endure. They’ll fight. They’ll be relentless, yes. But they’ll also get sharp. Fast.Because when something truly matters, you don’t wait. It’s resolve fueled by a kind of impatient patience. The kind that acts.Or think about the neighbor who loads up a truck and drives 500 miles after a hurricane to help people they’ve never met. That’s not persistence or grit, that’s aggressive action.What’s the cost of worrying about someone else’s labelProbably a lot. More than I’m willing to pay.You’ve seen it used well. Steady. Unassuming. But when it’s time, they move with something stronger than relentlessness. Something that penetrates the problem and is hard to ignore.When it’s paired with humility, it becomes something rare. A kind of aggressive humility.It’s the willingness to pursue what matters without needing the spotlight. A confidence that doesn’t posture. It’s not about proving something. It’s about finding the right way, not their way.It’s about results.I’ve worked with people like that. I’m married to one. I think we might be raising a few.To do something that counts, you’ll need to be aggressive. With intention. Not emotion.And without apology.Take care, friend. Be good. —Kelly This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit kellyvohs.substack.com
Transcribe →
I'm Wrong
Jun 1, 202500:01:54Tap to summarizeIn order to be right, you must be willing to change your mind. If you’re not willing to change your mind, you’re going to be wrong a lot. -Shane ParrishI’m wrong. About something. Or lots of somethings. We all carry a few strongly held beliefs. But if you never flip them, never walk around to the other side of the table, you risk building on something a less experienced version of you got wrong. Take one thing you’re sure about and look at it from the other side or at least another angle.For example, I’ve always believed in working backwards. I first used it in the military, then to build teams and companies. Define the objective. Build the plan. Execute. Start with the end and work back. It gives you clarity and confidence.Maybe the better move is to work forward. Start from where you are and stay alert to what the world is actually telling you. Hard in big organizations, I admit. But that shouldn’t stop us.I’ve also believed education is the foundation of progress. Maybe even the point of life. But what if that’s not true? What if learning only works when it rides on the back of humility and courage? Without those, maybe we don’t really learn. Or act.So, flip something this week. You don’t have to let it go. But you should test it. It should have to earn its place. That’s what I'm working on. Certainty is comfortable. Truth is what keeps us in the fight.Take care. Be good. —Kelly This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit kellyvohs.substack.com
Transcribe →