Of Corporate Peaks and Actual Jungles

It’s been a while. Actually, "it’s been a while" is a massive understatement.

The last post here was twelve years ago. Back then, I was struggling to write a few lines while this blog was already on life support. Restarting now feels akin to digging up a grave and administering CPR to the skeletal remains. Yet, hope springs eternal and miracles do happen. The joy of writing was an itch that never quite got fully scratched, so here I am again.

When I took a "deep left" twelve years ago, I was navigating the early days of "not being single anymore" and trying to find the right balance for all my new commitments. Since then, life has been a series of high-altitude climbs—some on actual granite monoliths, and many more within the high-pressure corridors of global e-commerce.

I’ve spent the last decade deep in the world of "Self-Reviews." If you’ve ever written one, you know the drill: you summarize your life into bullet points and percentages. You look at goals like "achieving 100% coverage" or "exceeding productivity targets" and try to ignore the human story hidden behind the data. But looking back at a decade of these documents, I’ve realized that while I was busy traversing the corporate jungle, I occasionally forgot to visit the actual one. As I restart this blog, my goal is a 100% In-Stock IFGV% on happiness, though I expect some continued volatility in the supply chain of my daily schedule.

The View from the Corporate Peak I’ve spent my days scaling complex operational mountains—managing multi-country marketplaces, hitting aggressive coverage targets, and leading teams through volatile market headwinds. In that world, the "summit" was the successful integration of a subsidiary onto the Amazon stack, a Quick Commerce launch, or a productivity goal exceeded by 30%.

But here is the thing about climbing: nobody reaches the summit alone.

The Tribe at Basecamp After a decade at Amazon, I took a look back at what I achieved. While ex-Amazonians typically talk about "Leadership Principles" or "Day 1 culture," revisiting my self-reviews allowed me to look beyond the data to the human stories. I realized that what I’m really taking away is far more valuable: Friendship.

I’m talking about the kind of friendship that survives being "hamstrung" by a lack of resources or facing the "headwinds" of market volatility that felt like a hurricane making landfall. To my team and my inner circle—those who stayed through thick and thin—you were the ones who turned the "mundane stuff" into something extraordinary.

I’ve fought against the urge to add findings from deep dives or data tables in appendices here. There’s no need to "trust but verify" the sentiment in this post—it’s 100% organic. Unless, of course, a true-blue Amazonian wants to raise a Bar Raiser concern in the comments. I’ve realized that the view from the top doesn’t actually matter if you aren’t standing there with your tribe. You weren't just colleagues; you were my energy providers.

Hitting a New Trail I’m restarting this blog because I want to get back to "writing a few lines every day"—a guideline I set for myself years ago that I’m finally ready to commit to again. The joy I get from penning down my thoughts is unparalleled.

Amazon taught me that "writing 3/6 pagers" is the way, but I have no intention of asking people to pre-read this before a debrief. This is purely for my own satisfaction, irrespective of the reach. I’m currently loaning out 100% of my personal bandwidth to the trail and the lens; no HC approvals required for this transition.

I’m taking a moment to step out of the corporate canopy and back into the actual woods. I’m lacing up the trekking boots, shaking the cobwebs off my photography gear, and returning to the keyboard to share the journey. It’s time to reconnect with the "true loves" that provide the energy to climb the next mountain.

Because at the end of the day, you can’t lead a team to the summit if you’ve forgotten what the air feels like at the top.

Onward to the next trail!