TL;DR: A week in the air, a student from Nordhoff High School in Ojai, CA, Airmen and Guardians at Air University in Montgomery, and what it costs (and what I earn!) to keep showing up. 

On the Long Arc 

10 May 2026 

Hiya 

Last Sunday afternoon I had taken my seat, exit row aisle as normal, when she looked down from the aisle and said, “Mr. Womack?” 

I looked up, familiar? A little. Context? None. 

Then she said something about “the late 1990’s” and a class I taught in another life, and suddenly three decades collapsed into a single moment on Sunday afternoon flight to Montgomery. 

It took a beat. And then, I thought… 

I started teaching leadership in a high school classroom. She was in the AP US History class I taught. (She did say it was the hardest AP class she took!) 

And now she was on the same plane, headed to her own conference that was to start the next day. I didn’t have words for it in the moment. I still don’t, really. I mean c’mon. Really? 

What I am siting with is the feeling … that something I put into the world 27 years ago has kept moving long after I was any part of it. 

The pebbles we throw have no idea how far the ripple goes. 

That room in Montgomery was full. A room of Airmen and Guardians - leaders of command teams - did two hours of reflective work on their own, and with one another. 

This is the work I do that reminds me why I stay in it. 

People told me what I do matters. As long as this stuff works, I promise to keep leaning forward. 

Midweek, our leadership hosted an all-call across three bases at the same time; award winners were recognized, updates were offered on Acquisition Transformation across the department, and questions from the members were answered in real time. Later that day, I attended a separate session for senior civilians: what’s changing, what it means, how to lead through it. 

Friday, I got a couple of miles in on the track with my boss, working through what we’re standing with as the pace of change continues to accelerate. It will only increase. That’s not a warning. 

It’s a weather report. 

I’ve been thinking about reflective practice - not as a soft concept, but as a discipline.sure I wrote a doctoral thesis on the academics of reflection; now, however, we’re putting into… practice. 

About. Because of. So that. 

It’s a ladder I will teach to DAF coaches to climb later this month in our Community of Practice session: 

1. name what the experience was really about, 

2. notice what it revealed, 

3. then carry one thing forward. 

Not rumination. Not replay. Conversion. Experience into insight into practice. 

I’ve been doing this long enough to know the difference. I can have a hundred conversations and still repeat the same patterns if I never pause long enough to learn from them. 

The pause is the work. 

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. 

I’ll say this plainly: I’m in my fourth round (in six years) of counseling through Magellan. Us civilians have access to this type of EAP (Employee Assistance Program) and a benefit is we can gain a referral for up to six counseling sessions per issue. 

Yup, you read that right… Per. Issue! 

So, for four of the past six Mays (since I learned I had the benefit!), I’ve reached out and been matched with a therapist. It’s good to talk things through… with as much as I have right now. 

This isn’t a crisis - it’s a practice. I’ve always believed we’re not meant to go through this life alone. I teach it. And, I live it. 

On May 21st, our base observes Resilience Day. I will stand for what I believe: that reaching out is a sign of strength, not a confession of weakness.

That the bravest thing a leader can model is their own willingness to be human. 

We have Military OneSource for our military brothers and sisters. Civilians have BetterHelp through Magellan. The door is there.

Knock. 

Mother’s Day is complicated. For me. 

Between the ages of five and fifteen, we didn’t celebrate. No holidays in the house I grew up in… no Christmas, no Thanksgiving, no birthdays. Not this one either. 

(Yeah, I was the kid in grammar and junior high school they’d take out of the classroom when holidays and birthdays were celebrated. #IYKYK) 

Now I’m 54, watching my mom recover from her stroke and… it seems like setback after setback.

Last week, another visit to the emergency room, and another week of my sister doing everything she can to hold it together while a six-month housing countdown clock runs quietly in the background. (My mom was on low-income housing prior to having her stroke. With no retirement other than Social Security, she and my sister are working every day to figure out a way…) 

Simply saying “Every day is Mother’s Day” Omar enough for me. 

So, what I do is this: I celebrate all the mamas. 

Every woman who has cared for me. Every woman who cares for others. 

That’s the day I know how to keep. This is the way I know how to celebrate. 

I’m writing this on a plane. Los Angeles to Zurich to spend time with my dad and step-mom as we take a “bucket-list” trip around the country. I’m reflecting on a week behind me that brought a former student into my life, a room full of leaders reflecting so they can project readiness and strength, a counseling appointment, a housing crisis in the making, and a holiday I’ve learned to build from scratch. 

The arc is long. I keep throwing pebbles. The ripple keeps waving. And somehow, I keep going. 

Much love from this part of the world, 

JW 

PS: Hey, if you’re carrying something heavy right now, I hope you have someone to set it down with. If you don’t have someone, please reach out. To me, to a counselor, to anyone. The door is there. 

Knock. 

#BetterTogether