I’ve lost count of how many ropes courses I’ve completed in my lifetime. As a kid, I whizzed down zip lines at camp. As a young adult, I tested my mettle walking tightropes strung up high in the towering redwoods. As a coach, I’ve lead teams as they navigated across swinging, bouncing tires suspended from tree branches.

I’m lucky enough to get to work with business leaders and managers who want to connect with, support, and inspire everyone on their team. They understand the importance of honing how they communicate, listen, empathize, and give feedback because they know these “soft” skills improve everything morale and collaboration to productivity and retention across the whole organization.

It was 4 am, the wind was howling, and I was in a tent pitched somewhere in the rugged plains of Bhutan. I needed to pee. Clambering out of my nylon shelter to find some bushes, I heard peals of high-pitched laughter. I looked around in the dim pre-dawn light and could just make out a man dressed in a traditional tunic, leading a yak. A little girl—his daughter, I later learned—was perched on the yak’s bony back. The wind threatened to blow her to the ground, and she couldn’t stop giggling.

Two years ago, my husband Matt and I took a five-month road trip in our RV, which we call Freedom. Shortly into the adventure, we started keeping a list of people and places we encountered that went above and beyond in some way, like serving melt-in-your-mouth pancakes, offering an extra-friendly smile, or sharing directions for a “locals-only” shortcut.

It’s a new year, so people all over the world have been busy making resolutions, promises, pledges, and solemn oaths so they can somehow do better—and be better—in 2021.

I’ve got nothing against the age-old tradition of making resolutions that start on January 1st (and, ahem, are usually forgotten around the 15th …). And I’m all for creating “guardrails” to keep us on track and help us reach our personal and professional goals. Yet I recently heard something that made me think there’s might be a simpler approach.

Like many of us, this is typically the time of year when I get to reconnect with far-flung relatives during large, loud family gatherings. Since that’s impossible right now, I’ve been reconnecting with some of my favorite family stories and memories.

Here’s one that keeps resurfacing. When my nephew, Dwight, was about four-years-old, he and his pal Justin were in my sister’s backyard. The boys were dressed as Ninja Turtles, lunging at each other with pretend swords.