I chose the stadium
Last Wednesday, there was no blog.
Not because I forgot. Not because life blindsided me. But because I was doing something that mattered more.
Let me explain.
I chose the stadium
In New Zealand, Eid al-Adha - the Festival of Sacrifice - fell on Thursday 28 May. For Wellington's Muslim community, it meant a celebration at Hnry Stadium. Thousands of people. Families. Children. The kind of gathering that requires more than just showing up on the day.
So on Wednesday, instead of writing, I, along with a team of volunteers, was at the stadium. Setting up. Preparing the space. Making sure that when thousands of people arrived the next morning to mark one of the most significant days in the Islamic calendar, everything was ready.
There was almost no content - there was one video of an empty stadium waiting to be filled. But you'll know what I mean.
Just work that needed to be done.
The integrity tension
I've written about rituals. About discipline. About showing up regardless of mood, circumstance or inconvenience. I've said - and meant - that consistency is what separates intention from identity.
So what does it mean to skip the very habit I've publicly championed?
Gulp. I sat with that for a moment.
And here's what I came back to: discipline is not the same as rigidity. A ritual serves a purpose - and sometimes that purpose is better served by doing something else entirely.
The blog exists to share something meaningful. Last Wednesday, the meaningful thing wasn't a blog.
It was a stadium.
What Eid al-Adha actually asks
The spirit of Eid al-Adha is Abraham and his family's willingness to sacrifice what they loved most in obedience to something higher. Not reluctantly. Not resentfully. With full presence and full surrender.
Most of us won't be asked for that kind of sacrifice.
But we are asked, regularly, to choose between what's convenient and what's called for. Between the habit and the moment. Between the feeling and the need. Between the content calendar and the community.
Last week, the community won. And I'd make the same choice again without hesitation.
What I saw at the stadium
Thousands of people who arrived not to be seen - but to be present. To pray together, to celebrate together, to eat together, to bring joy to each other's children.
No one was performing. Everyone was just… there.
And it reminded me of something I keep coming back to in my work: the most powerful thing you can do - as a leader, as a professional, as a human being - is show up fully for the thing that's right in front of you.
Not for the content. Not for the caption. For the moment itself.
Final thought
So here's what I'm sitting with this week:
What are you skipping the important things for? And is that trade worth it?
And what/who are you doing the important things for - recognition, habit or something/one deeper, higher?
Because sometimes the most disciplined thing you can do is put the calendar down.
And choose the stadium.
Go on. Take the Next Step.
