This morning, I’m driving to Rochester, New York.
On the surface, that doesn’t sound like much. A couple of hours in the car, some coffee, a podcast or two, and a winter highway that looks a lot like every other one in Upstate New York in January. But today’s drive feels different. And I didn’t really realize how different it was until I was halfway through my morning routine, pulling on clothes, loading my bag, and mentally preparing for the day ahead.
Today is the New York State Agricultural Society meeting.
I’ve been part of this event for—believe it or not—nearly twenty years. For decades, it lived in Syracuse, and this year it’s been moved to the Rochester area. That alone is a meaningful shift, but the bigger change, at least for me, has nothing to do with geography.
For the first time in over a decade, I’m attending this meeting without real responsibility.
For more than ten years, I’ve been involved at the board level, serving in different leadership roles, working through the chairs, eventually serving as president, then immediate past president. For a long stretch of time, this meeting wasn’t just something I attended; it was something I helped run. I knew the agenda inside and out. I worried about speakers showing up on time. I cared deeply about attendance, flow, energy, and outcomes. Whether I realized it or not, Ag Society and this day, became part of my identity.
And now, here I am. Heading west instead of east. Sitting in a different seat. Carrying a different kind of energy.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still excited. I always am. This meeting has meant too much to me over the years not to feel that. But the excitement feels… lighter. Quieter. Less tense. There’s a noticeable absence of that low-grade pressure that comes with being “responsible” for things going well.
There’s one small piece I’ll still play in today’s program, but beyond that, I’m just showing up. Listening. Watching. Reconnecting.
And that shift has been surprisingly emotional.
As I was getting ready this morning, I found myself thinking about all the people I’ve served alongside over the years, past leaders, current leaders and wondering how it felt for them the first time they attended this meeting without a role to play, a problem to solve, or something to manage. There’s a strange mix of pride and detachment that comes with that moment. You care deeply, but you’re no longer carrying the weight.
Honestly, it feels kind of good.
Everything about today feels more relaxed. Even the way I’m dressing is different. Less formal. Less “on.” The mental preparation is different too. Instead of running through contingencies and timelines, I’m just… going. And there’s quiet confidence in that. A sense of trust, both in the organization and in myself, that it’s okay to step back.
The New York State Agricultural Society has always done a lot of things well. At its core, it brings together a unique cross-section of the agricultural community. Over the years, I’ve watched it adapt, grow, and change, sometimes slowly, sometimes out of necessity. This move to Rochester is just the latest example of that willingness to evolve.
The mission, though, remains the same: bring value to the people who show up. The folks who pay their dues. The ones willing to give up a day in January to listen to speakers, learn something new, and maybe most importantly, see people they haven’t seen in a year. Shake hands. Catch up. Reconnect.
When I first started in business, I’ll be honest, networking felt like a dirty word. It sounded salesy. Forced. Transactional. Twenty-five years later, I’ve come to realize that genuine networking, the real kind, is just about relationships. It’s about showing up consistently and caring enough to stay connected.
This meeting has done more for me in that regard than almost anything else in my professional life.
So, as I head into the next ten or twelve hours, I’m curious. Curious about how it feels to be fully on the other side. Curious about what I’ll notice now that I’m not managing the details. Curious about the thoughts, emotions, and conversations that surface when the responsibility lifts and the perspective widen.
I’ll share more once the day is over.
For now, this is Part One.
Stay tuned.