Lately, I’ve been reflecting on two words that show up constantly in leadership conversations and really just in life.

Endurance.
Adaptation.

Both are praised. Both matter. And both serve very different purposes.

Endurance is about staying. Holding steady. Continuing to show up when things are hard. For many of us, endurance is how we got here. It carried us through seasons that required grit, patience, and resolve.

Adaptation is about adjusting. Shifting. Responding to what the environment is actually asking of us now, not what it asked of us before.

The tension shows up when endurance quietly turns into rigidity.

There are absolutely seasons where endurance is the right move. Staying in the role. Staying in the conversation. Staying committed when it would be easier to walk away. If that is the season you are in, that is not a lack of courage or insight. It is often wisdom.

But there are other seasons where we are not enduring a meaningful challenge. We are simply holding tightly to what is familiar.

As people, we tend to look for objectivity. Something solid that tells us how to live, how to decide, and how to move forward. That makes sense. Structure helps us navigate complexity and reduces uncertainty.

The challenge comes when what once helped us begins to limit us.

I keep coming back to the image of a hammer.

A hammer is a great tool. It drives nails. It pries boards. In the right situation, it works beautifully. If you have relied on it long enough and it has served you well, of course you trust it.

But a hammer cannot cut a board to size.

No amount of effort changes that. You can grip it tighter. You can swing harder. You can tell yourself this is how you have always done things. The limitation is not your strength. The limitation is the tool.

Many of us do this in life.

We stay in the same environment.
We rely on the same approach.
We communicate the same way.
We call it endurance.

Sometimes it is.
Other times, it is resistance to adaptation.

That is where a different set of questions becomes useful.

Where might I be white knuckling a tool in the name of endurance?
Where might letting go of that tool be the very thing that allows growth?

Adaptation does not mean abandoning your values. Knowing who you are and what you will not compromise still matters deeply. Adaptation is not about becoming someone else. It is about expanding how you show up.

And often, adaptation requires something very specific.

It requires intentionally placing ourselves into new environments, new conversations, and new situations that feel uncomfortable. Places where old tools no longer work. Places that require new skills, new awareness, and new ways of relating.

Endurance helps us stay grounded.
Adaptation helps us grow.

So the question in front of you, if you have made it to the end of this reflection, is a simple one.

In this next season, is your growth more likely to come from enduring, or from adapting?

Sitting with that question might matter more than rushing to answer it.