Not. Yet.
💌 Letter #9 – ⏳ 4 min 30 sec
Not.Yet. (/nɒt jet/)
From Old English ne and Old Norse geta (“to get, to reach”). Not yet carries the idea that what is not here… can still come to be.
Dear you,
It was 7:15 p.m. yesterday when you wrote to me.
On that November evening, with rain sticking to the windows, you were wrapping up your day by sorting your inbox… when a message from your CFO dropped in. A 15-MB attachment. A brief title: “End-of-year report 2025.” You opened it mechanically and read these terse lines:
“Attached are this month’s numbers and the year-end projection. We’re at 80% of target. We won’t hit the 2025 plan. Available to discuss.”
You buried your head in your hands, letting out a sigh: “Fuck… this sucks. We’re never going to make it.”
Last year, you hit 70% of your target. You took the time to learn from it, recalibrated your 2025 plan, and you genuinely believed you’d reach 100%. But no: second year below plan. And just like the weather outside, your mood darkened.
Your main concern was how to debrief these numbers with your team:
“How do I express my disappointment without killing their momentum for next year? No bullshit, no drama. I can’t find the right words.”
And what if, to find the right words for them, you started by finding them for yourself? Because the way you’ll speak to them depends first on the way you speak to yourself. On how the words you choose resonate within you.
So we took the time to return to those words and ask what they triggered. When you say “we’re never going to make it,” what echoes? You told me: “fear.” I asked if it helps mobilize you. “No, it freezes me,” you replied.
And with those words, it couldn’t be otherwise. They feed your depreciative beast: the one that freezes you in the past, exhausts you in the present and clouds the future.
So I invited you to feed the other beast within you: the one whose inner monologue leans forward, oriented toward progress.
You answered, skeptical: “Yeah… maybe.” We laughed. But since you had nothing better to propose, we tried.
I told you about Carol Dweck and the power of the word “yet.” I suggested you revisit your expressions and replace never or not with: not yet. You did it:
— “We’re never going to make it.” → “We haven’t made it yet.”
— “We won’t hit the plan.” → “We’re not hitting the plan yet.”
— “I can’t find the right words.” → “I haven’t found the right words yet.”
As the exercise unfolded, I felt you re-engage. Your voice shifted. Your energy too. Reality hadn’t changed. Your relationship to it had — completely.
That’s the whole power of yet. A tiny semantic shift that opens a new perspective on what has been done, and on what remains possible. For you first, then — by capillarity — for your team. What works in you will work for them.
I invite you to make it a reflex. Not out of naïve positivity, nor to gloss over what’s been hard, but to name your reality clearly and turn it into fuel. To transform today’s adversities into concrete opportunities for the coming year.
It’s almost a competitive advantage. A mindset that will set you apart as a leader and that - as gloomy as the weather may be right now - will help you keep your team mobilized. It’s like the weather these last few days. Just because clouds cover the sky doesn’t mean the sun has vanished. It’s simply not visible yet. And yet, it will reappear.
I grew up with this quote from Epictetus, which I’m sharing with you today: “It’s not what happens to you that matters, but how you respond to it.” What if what mattered wasn’t your 2025 results, but what you choose to do with them — individually and collectively — to become even better in 2026?
Take care,
Adri
