At its core, I believe our message is a tapestry woven with everyday truth, deep reflection, and the kind of humanity that can get lost in our fast-paced, hyper-branded world. This piece is about presence — listening to life’s messages, staying open to connection, and being aware of what we’re putting out into the world, moment by moment.

One of my LOIS-isms — the kind I hold close — is this:

Life is always talking. Make sure you’re listening.

Yesterday, life’s classroom was none other than the Dollar Tree. (Though, let’s be real, it’s now more like the Dollar-Twenty-Five Tree.) You know the drill: walk in for one thing, walk out with ten. Or, as my brother says, it’s the “Since-you’re” syndrome — since you’re picking up batteries, might as well grab a pack of pens, and since you’re here, you need those mini organizers too, right?

I had a bag of random finds — flimsy, on the verge of breaking — when I glanced to my right. There stood a man with just a few toothbrushes and a handmade wooden sign hanging around his neck on a thin wire. It read: “I love you.”

Naturally, being knee-deep in Dollar Tree aisle wisdom, I struck up a conversation.

“Cool sign,” I said.

“Thanks,” he smiled. “My friend made it. Hand-painted it. She told me I emanate love — and during these challenging times, she wanted me to wear the message everywhere I go.”

And he has. For a year and a half. Every day. With one exception: “Showers and sleep,” he laughed.

I was speechless — and that’s saying something.

In that suspended moment of time, full cart and packed day aside, I knew this was the class I was meant to attend. Conversations with strangers — those unexpected, honest moments in line, on the bus, in the grocery store — can be the most sacred.

I had to ask him: “What has the response been?”

He looked at me with calm conviction:

“Only positive ones. I think people are just relieved. For a moment, they don’t have to be angry, scared, or guarded. They can just… receive love.”

Then came my favorite story of his:

Two little girls — 6 and 4 — spotted him. The younger one threw her arms open and said, “I love you too!” before her older sister tugged her away, saying, “Don’t talk to strangers.”

As they walked off, the little one turned back, mouthed “I love you too” and blew him a kiss.

That one moment gave him — and now me — hope.

We talk so much about “brand strategy” and “personal brand” these days. But sometimes it’s simple:

What is the message you’re sending the world?

Not just when you’re on stage, or on Zoom, or writing emails — but always. In the grocery store. On the subway. In an elevator.

In frustration. In joy. In waiting.

This man had a literal sign around his neck. But we all carry invisible signs — every one of us.

So here’s the question I’ve been asking myself ever since:

If you had to wear a sign around your neck… what would yours say?

Would it say:

I’m in a rush, don’t bother me!

I’m stressed, back off!

I’m open, I care, I see you!

And more importantly: Are you happy with your message?

Whether we lead teams, families, classrooms, or just ourselves, we’re sending messages all day long.

All around my office are little reminders:

“It is what it is.”

“Leave a little sparkle wherever you go.”

And my favorite:

“Before you speak, ask yourself: Is it kind? Is it necessary? Is it true? Does it improve upon the silence?”- Sai Baba

You don’t need to paint a wooden sign to ask the deeper question:

What message am I putting into the world?

And is it aligned with who I truly want to be?

If not — maybe it’s time for a new sign.

Thanks for tuning in, and not tuning out.