Hi Reader,

I have a weird question for you.

If the world ended tomorrow and you found yourself at the gates of the last functioning community on earth...

What would you tell them you bring to the table?

Not your job title. Not your technical skills. Not your industry expertise.

What essence of you would actually matter to a group of humans trying to rebuild?

I've been asking this question to leaders for months. The answers always surprise them:

"I'd help people remember their worth."

"I'd turn disagreements into breakthroughs."​
"I'd hold steady when everyone else is panicking."

"I'd help people see what's possible."

Notice what's missing? Job descriptions.

These are gifts. The thing they bring to every situation, whether they're in a boardroom or around a campfire.

Here's the thing about gifts: They're not role-dependent. They're you-dependent.

Your job is what you're paid to do. Your gift is what you're designed to bring.

Most of the leaders I work with have forgotten the difference. They're so focused on performance metrics and deliverables, they've lost touch with the thing that actually makes them irreplaceable.

But your gift is your leadership superpower.

It's the reason people seek you out when things get tough. It's what makes your team trust you. It's what turns you from a manager into someone worth following.

The apocalypse question isn't really about the apocalypse.

It's about stripping away everything external to find what's essential.

Your title might change. Your company might restructure. Your industry might evolve.

But your gift travels with you everywhere.

So what would you bring to the community?

That's not a thought experiment. That's your purpose.

Your wingwoman

Catherine

P.S. I borrowed this scenario from Deon Meyer's brilliant apocalypse novel Fever. In it, survivors must justify their place in a new community. Meyer's characters don't get in based on their old credentials - they get in based on what they can actually contribute.

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