One question ran through everything I built
A layoff, a phone call, and six articles — all circling the same question. Here’s how to find your own version of it.
July 26, 2021. Random Monday. I post something on LinkedIn. No plan. No brand. Definitely no strategy deck — I didn’t even have a folder called “content” yet.
I just... kept doing it. The next day. Then the day after that. Five years go by like that. Nobody plans five years. It just happens while you’re busy doing the next thing.
Fast forward to 2023. My sales leadership role gets cut. I stick around, take the “demotion”, keep showing up, because I still liked the work, the people and that’s what was needed. That whole year was a lot. More layoffs, new managers nobody asked for, good people getting put on plans that didn’t reflect their work at all.
And somewhere in there, I realize I kept asking myself the same question. Not out loud yet. Just to myself, on repeat, whenever something knocked me sideways.
What’s needed now?
Not “what’s fair.” Not “why me.” More like, okay, given where things actually stand, what’s the next right move?
February 1, 2024 — first day of the fiscal year, I was let go. But what happened next surprised me more than the news.
Seconds after hearing those words… as I took a breath and a beat to reply, and in that tiny gap of time I asked myself that same question, what’s needed now?
I told the two people delivering the news from the other side of the Zoom call that I forgave them, not snark-castically either. I wasn’t angry or pissed. The Zoom ended nine minutes after it started. Mixed emotions for sure. The nanosecond of embarrassment got replaced with a weird sense of peace.
I didn’t have to pack up my desk or be escorted out of the building. I was in my home office. I got up out of my chair, walked to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, let out a big sigh, and said out loud: what’s needed now?
“Launch your own thing, Mike.” That was the answer.
I shouted out loud, “Let’s f*ckin’ go!”
And started building, because most of what I needed that year, most of what I’d needed most of my career didn’t exist anywhere I could buy it.
Twenty-eight days later, I launched. On a leap day. On purpose. February 29, a date that only shows up once every four years, for a decision that only needed to happen once. But that’s not what this story’s about.
(That’s ResultsLab.io, if you’re new here. 👋 hi, welcome.)
Fast forward to, May 26, 2026. I’m on a call with a CRO. The same CRO I worked with back in 2024. New situation though. Our old company had imploded the sales org, him included. He was between gigs. So we connected.
He said, “I see you all over LinkedIn. Are you a LinkedIn influencer now?” 😑
I laughed. Genuinely laughed. Told him no, I’m the furthest thing from it. His question kind of... stuck with me longer than I expected it to. Because from the outside? A five-year daily posting habit can look like a personality, or an identity. From the inside, I knew that was never actually the point.
His question sat right next to something else that had been thinking about for a while. How do I actually get all my content, ideas, frameworks, everything, exported out of LinkedIn?
Turns out that’s not as simple as it should be. That’s not a technical inconvenience, that’s a strong signal. Again, I asked myself: what’s needed now?
Instead of getting pissed off about his comment, or about not being able to easily pull my own content out, I looked at the moment the way I’ve learned to look at the ones that used to frustrate me. As a gift.
What’s the gift? It’s the chance to see the problem as an opportunity, not a problem. A chance to learn. To do something bigger, better. Something that moves you forward instead of holding you back or keeping you stuck.
So what was the gift here?
The gift of greater independence. A little more ownership. A little more alignment. A lot more agency. Similar to the decision I made on a leap day two years earlier, just pointed at the next thing.
The unexpected gift that keeps on giving.
I’ve been reviewing my days and weeks for years. Months too. And yeah, the classic quarterly business reviews everyone in corporate knows by heart. Reviews are automatic routines, part of my rhythm at this point.
But I’d never actually taken inventory of what I’d created in a month. Not really. Yep, still learning and growing…
So this month, as part of my monthly review, I sat down and looked at what I’d actually created and shipped in July. What I discovered was that very same question was everywhere. Even though I didn’t write it word-for-word in any of those other pieces. It was, subliminally, running underneath them the whole time.
One question keeps changing everything for me, even if I never say it out loud. What’s needed now showed up in these moments this month:
A rope, under tension, one end pulling harder than the other. Most days you don’t feel it happening. “It never feels like one big event. It feels like losing ground quietly, one inch at a time.”
Even with best intentions the conversation that goes sideways before the other person even finishes talking. “That’s not a communication glitch. That’s a hijack.”
A text goes unanswered for three hours, and somehow there’s already a whole story written about it. “It already feels like a fight.”
The notion that being great is something you arrive at someday, instead of something you just... do. Today. “You do not become great someday. You become great today.”
Different moments, yet the same question applies: what’s needed now?
What it actually comes down to…
Here’s the thing about asking yourself the same question enough times — it stops being a question you ask. It turns into how you thinking, feel, and move.
Not some big dramatic stand, either. Just the smallest next choice, made on purpose, right when something tries to pull you off-track.
That’s what the pause is for.
To slow down and notice. Just long enough to see what’s needed now. And in that space, that beat, that pause, you become the observer. And empathy and curiosity turn into actual superpowers. They tell you what’s real, before the story in your head gets treated like fact. Before you react, you reflect on what’s needed now?
Which is why the actual move is always small. One inch. One better rep. One question, asked today. Not because small is safer. Because small is the kind of thing you can actually repeat. And repeatable’s the only kind of progress that ever really adds up.
Do that enough times, the pause, the curiosity, and taking the smallest true next step; you’ll find stuff stops happening to you so easily. The weight and pressure don’t stop coming. You just stop being surprised by them. You catch which way you’re being pulled a little sooner every time.
And eventually being great stops being something you’re reaching for. It becomes a habit quietly, almost subconscious, running underneath everything you do. Same way this question ran underneath everything I built this month. Because you did the small thing enough times that it quietly became who you are, instead of something you have to remember to do.
That becomes your everyday edge. That’s actually what I call this whole system, the Everyday Edge. Every piece this month, the same question from a different perspective.
Which leaves me pondering something. Was that Monday morning post on July 26, 2021, actually random? Or was that the start of what was needed then?
And the day after. And the day after that. And the day after that, for five years. Same thing that was needed in 2023. On February 1, 2024. Same thing that was needed on May 26, 2026, and on July 4, 2026. Same thing that’s needed today. Same thing that’ll be needed tomorrow.
Your turn…
What’s your version of “what’s needed now?” — right now, today? Drop it in the comments. Doesn’t have to be a whole story. Could just be the one thing you’re building, fixing, growing, or finally facing. I read every single comment, and I’ll reply.
And if someone came to mind while you were reading this a friend, a family member, a coworker who’s clearly in the middle of their own version of this question, please share it with them. That’s usually worth more than anything I could say myself.
If you’re not subscribed yet, that’s what’s needed now. 😉
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If your “what’s needed now” is bigger than a comment. if it’s a real conversation you keep putting off, with someone else or with yourself, the free 25-minute call is always sitting there. No pressure either way.
As a thank you for reading, I have a gift for you. Grab a copy of the monthly review worksheet and run your July through it. No email required. It’s the same review I walk clients through.
Did you miss one or want to go deeper? Here’s what we covered in July:
Notes:
What does “what’s needed now” mean? It’s a simple gut-check question — not “what’s fair” or “why me,” just: given where things actually stand right now, what’s the next right move. It’s meant to interrupt overthinking and point straight at one small, doable action.
How is this different from a to-do list or goal-setting? A to-do list asks what needs doing eventually. “What’s needed now” asks what needs doing in this exact moment, which is usually much smaller and much more doable than a big plan.
Do I need a special tool or system to use this? No. It’s just a question you ask yourself in the moment something pulls at you — a hard conversation, a frustrating setback, a decision you’re avoiding. A monthly review practice can help you notice the pattern over time.