There’s something almost mythical about the number seven.
Hollywood certainly seems to think so. Seven Years in Tibet, Seven Year Itch, Seven Samurai, The Magnificent Seven, Seven Pounds, Se7en (What’s in the box?!)…okay, that last one got a little dark.
Then there’s our cultural fascination with it. Lucky number seven, the 7 wonders of the ancient world, the seven seas, seventh heaven, the seven deadly sins…sheesh, that keeps coming up. Anyway, seven seems to recur as a number of significance.
I bring this up because last week, I marked seven years with IA.
That may not sound remarkable on its own, but for me, it’s quietly monumental. It’s the longest I’ve ever stayed at a single company and honestly, I can’t quite believe it. Some days it feels like I just started, like I’m still learning the rhythms, still discovering new edges to the work. Other days, it feels like I’ve been here forever – in the best possible way – grounded by history, but never stuck in it.
For most of my career, longevity wasn’t something I was aiming at. I always told people I build, I don’t maintain. I was motivated by learning, by momentum, by the pull toward harder, more interesting problems. When that sense of stretch faded in past roles, I moved on. Not because I’m Gen X and apparently destined to job hop, but out of a desire to keep growing and learning. Staying felt riskier than moving on.
So when I look back at seven years here, the real question isn’t why did I stay? It’s what kind of work makes staying make sense?
My work here at IA sits at the intersection of strategy, design, and transformation. In practice, that means we’re rarely solving the same problem twice. We partner with organizations navigating meaningful change – how they operate, how they decide, how they serve people, how they evolve over time. That kind of work doesn’t settle neatly. It resists templates and tidy endings.
What’s kept the work feeling alive for me is that I’m constantly encountering new systems and new challenges. Each engagement resets the context. I can’t rely on muscle memory when helping clients. I need to listen again, learn again, and adapt again. That exposure to “new” work across different industries, cultures, and moments of change has given me the sense of renewal I used to associate with changing jobs, without losing the grounding that comes from staying in one place.
Just as important as the work are the relationships we build with clients along the way. Transformation only works when there’s trust, and trust takes time. Being able to return to organizations, deepen partnerships, and see how ideas evolve from recommendation to execution adds a layer of meaning that’s hard to replicate. It turns the work from a series of engagements into an ongoing conversation, one where learning flows in both directions. I’ve made several connections that have lasted long after the client engagement ended.
Doing this work alongside the people I work with at IA makes all the difference. I’m lucky to be surrounded by colleagues who are thoughtful, curious, and willing to sit with complexity rather than rush past it. People who ask better questions, challenge assumptions, and care as much about how we work as what we deliver. This helps keep the work demanding, human, and deeply engaging.
Seven years in, I no longer think of staying as the opposite of growth. I see it as a different expression of it, one grounded in continuous learning, meaningful relationships, and work that keeps evolving in genuinely interesting ways.
I’m grateful to be part of work that keeps changing, with people who make that change meaningful. I didn’t expect to find a long-term home this late in my career. But here feels like exactly the right place to be.
Surviving Leadership 