A Fresh Blanket of Hope

I woke up Sunday to a text alert from my mom. A week ago, she had been in the hospital, so sleep turned to panic for me. I grabbed my phone and was relieved to see it was a photo she was sharing. She had woken up early and discovered her yard was covered in a six-inch-thick blanket of snow. It was stunning! The glistening fresh cover had washed out all the imperfections of the ground and dressed it in a silky-smooth sheet of white. The harsh winter landscape was reframed into a wonderland. It was beautiful. It was peaceful and refreshing.

I’ll be honest, sometimes things feel hopeless. Everywhere you look there’s chaos. The landscape is full of noise, unrest, and uncertainty. I hear it in conversations, see it in the news, and watch it unfold on the local, national, and global stage. People are concerned, anxious, and unsure about the future.

At the same time, on the shores of our generation, the next technological wave is crashing: Generative AI. It’s poised to amplify us, disrupt us, and rewrite how work gets done. It’s exciting. It’s unsettling. It’s both at the same time.

If you’re feeling unsteady, you’re not alone, and we’re not the first to feel this way. Human history is a long story of disruption and change. Empires rise and fall. Technologies reshape daily life. Resources run thin, then abundant again. Wars, disasters, inventions, revolutions, some slow, some sudden. And every time, people struggle. They pause. They worry. And then they adapt, learn, and often, they thrive.

It strikes me that the ones who do best aren’t necessarily the strongest or the loudest. They’re the most flexible. The most curious. The ones willing to lean in, learn, and keep moving forward with hope, even when the path isn’t fully visible yet.

Years ago, I wrote about hope, not as wishful thinking, but as fuel. Hope isn’t denial. It doesn’t ignore reality. It looks reality in the eye and says, “There’s still a way forward.” Science even backs this up. Hope changes us chemically, releasing endorphins and enkephalins, neurochemicals that help us endure pain, overcome obstacles, heal faster, and feel joy again.

Hope covers the chaos of our lives with a blanket of snow. It reframes our situation. It elevates our approach and redefines our mood. But hope isn’t passive. It asks something of us. It requires faith, the kind that takes one step forward despite obstacles. It knows the road ahead may be challenging, but it believes the destination exists. It’s quiet perseverance. It’s choosing curiosity over fear. It’s staying open when it would be easier to shut down.

I believe this moment, right now, is one of those hinge points in history. Technology is accelerating. The world feels unstable. There is more chaos on the horizon. And yet, opportunity is everywhere for those willing to adapt, grow, and imagine something better. The future isn’t something that happens to us. It’s something we build, shape, and invent together, one decision at a time.

So, if you’re tired, pause. If you’re anxious, breathe. If you’re uncertain, stay curious. And above all, don’t lose hope! The future is still ahead of us. Tomorrow is still one more step toward our dreams. And hope, real hope, is still one of the most powerful tools we have to get there.

May your week be covered in a fresh blanket of hope!

The Wizard’s Wand – A Vibe Coding Tale

I looked up from the screen and saw the glowing red light of the digital clock. It was 2 a.m.! I felt like I had been pulled into some time vortex. I needed to get to bed! I went back to my computer screen to close things out and send one final instruction to my trusty AI companion. It responded with the dreaded, “Summarizing conversation history…” Yes, time for bed. I closed the laptop and let the latent space of Claude dream up some solutions for me.

I’m addicted. I realize that. We have been handed a new magic wand. With little effort, you can cast a spell and watch your ideas materialize in front of you. Dream of a new experience, a new approach, a new application, and within minutes you see it come to life in pixels on your screen. Incantations in the form of prompts stir the model to life and yield tangible results. Your soul breathes out its desires, and they form into beings from the dust of the digital world. At its core, it’s the act of creation. We dream it, we make it.

Vibe coding isn’t about turning over the reins to the synthetic intelligence that emerges from models forged by data and GPUs. No, it’s about empowering us, the creators of these digital worlds. It’s about raising the floor to a new level of abstraction, enabling us to express ourselves even more. Our ideas become reality even faster. The friction to fix reduces. The barriers to entry come down, and welcome signs emerge.

One of my many distractions over the holidays was entertaining my long list of wishful ideas. One example is VibeScape. Beginning with the holiday mood, I wanted to let AI dream about the seasons and create images I could project on a screen in our living room while we played games, enjoyed the fire, or rested after a satisfying meal. How hard would it be to create that service and even an Apple TV app?

I opened a new prompt and let my digital wishes flow through the coding agent. Soon, we had built a backend service and got it hosted. Then the tvOS app was needed. The agent spun lines of Swift code to life, helped me install the latest simulator, built images, icons, and UI elements. I was ready to see it on our TV, and it did that too. But why not just submit it to the Apple App Store? For those who have done this, you know the digital paperwork required to launch an app is serious effort. Turns out, the coding assistants can help with that too! Soon, it was submitted for review. All of that, in one day. And several days later (waiting on Apple to review), the app was released: VibeScapeTV. And in case you are wondering, yes, part of it is running in my garage. Please don’t tell anyone. 😉

VibeScape wasn’t the only toy I unwrapped with AI. I managed to tackle many other projects too, including resurrecting ancient code and old repos for projects that had been untouched for years. The magic LLM wand helped me bring new life to those dusty digital shelves. Now, to be fair, this isn’t just pixie dust that magically helps you fly. It requires you, your creative direction, human sensibility, and long-term vision of what is needed, how it is architected, and what it “feels like.” That responsibility rests on your shoulders as you use these tools. You can YOLO vibe code your way to some solutions, but will it ultimately deliver the experience and outcome you want? Rarely. You must be engaged. You must be the one wielding the wand.

I know you may be tired of hearing vibe coding stories, but I want you to know it comes from a good place. I believe we are at a critical event horizon, shaping ways of working that we have never seen before. I want you all to be the experts, the masters of your destiny and the wizards of our future.

Do you have your wand? It’s time to get ready. There are multiple tools available to you. Try one, try them all. Start experimenting and creating. My only caveat is that you need to set boundaries. By that, I mean, make sure you set an alarm. If not, you may finally look up from your screen and see that it’s 2 a.m.!

Powering the Future – Leadership Lessons from my failed Powerwall

Happy New Year!

I hope you all had a chance to rest and enjoy the holidays. I know I did! Of course, I also managed to cram in about two months’ worth of hobby projects during my “downtime.” Yes, there was plenty of family time, hot cocoa, and relaxing by a warm fire during our cold, wet weeks, but I still checked off a dozen projects I’d been hoping to tackle.

As some of you know, I’m passionate about solar energy (some say “obsessed,” and that’s probably fair). Every guest to our home gets the full residential solar power system tour, Powerwall batteries, and all. I also maintain an open-source project called pypowerwall and have my own Grafana dashboard for monitoring everything. Yes, I’m that person.

Last week, one of my projects was to upgrade the Python library to add caching, improve performance, and update the dashboard. I’d delayed this because the Powerwall platform recently changed, and my older system was running on a previous architecture. This meant I had to rely on community members with the new platform to help optimize the code. But as luck would have it, one of my batteries failed. Yes, lucky, right?  But instead of just replacing the battery, Tesla would provide an upgrade. The open-source community is convinced it was because of my open-source contributions… though I suspect Tesla isn’t exactly thrilled that I help owners identify issues they might otherwise miss.

So, why am I telling you this? Don’t worry. I promise there’s a point…

I love to supervise the installation of new equipment (the Tesla techs might call it “hovering”). I do my best to make them feel welcome and offer holiday treats and drinks. I genuinely find the process fascinating, and I even help when I can (they let me crimp the CAT-6 cables, probably just to keep me busy and out of their hair). This install had its share of surprises. For starters, the schedule said Monday, but a giant pallet of gear showed up on Friday with no notice. Thankfully, someone was home to receive it. Without communication, we may not have been home, and it would have delayed the entire process.

Communication is often undervalued, but super important.

On install day, the technicians explained that everything but the Power Gateway would be replaced. I couldn’t wait to see how the new setup would be integrated, so I asked to see the design documents… only to learn they didn’t have them. Everything was at HQ, so the techs had to spend all day on the phone just to get the specs they needed. Many calls. Multiple clarifications. Lots of latency.

Then came the heavy lifting, literally. Each battery weighs about 291 pounds, and they needed to be mounted on the wall. Tesla had designed a powered dolly lift, but the engineers hadn’t realized most installs would require lifting higher than the dolly allowed. The solution? The techs cobbled together a wooden platform and extension “bumpers.” It was a hack, but it worked. When I asked if the engineers had ever heard about these field improvisations, the response was laughter: any fix from HQ, they said, would probably be so heavy it would need its own dolly. I have huge respect for these techs’ resourcefulness. However, what was supposed to be a two-hour job took five.

Watching all this, I was struck by two big lessons:

  1. Information Silos: Why are essential documents only at HQ, instead of with those who need them in the field? If information flowed freely to the “edge,” all those phone calls would be unnecessary, and the team could solve problems faster and with more confidence.
  1. Contextual Disconnect: When architects and engineers operate in an “ivory tower,” their solutions often lack real-world relevance. The techs in the field know exactly what’s needed, but without context or dialogue, HQ can miss the mark, creating more work and frustration.

This isn’t unique to Tesla or Powerwalls. We see versions of this everywhere, in every company. It was a fresh reminder that, as engineers, service providers and partners, we need to embed ourselves with the teams we support. When we’re present, rolling up our sleeves and getting our hands dirty together, we understand pain points, build trust, and solve real problems. Proximity breeds empathy. Empathy builds trust. Trust accelerates velocity. If we want to move fast, we go to the edge. We seek to understand. And we help. Actually help.

2026 is a blank canvas, and I’m genuinely excited for what’s ahead. Will there be unexpected twists? Absolutely. But I’m confident that by partnering deeply across our business, product, and engineering teams, we’ll solve important problems and create real outcomes for organizations.

Have a Powerful 2026!