Letters from Sunday Morning
One letter every Sunday about how founders lead, decide, and sometimes get in their own way. Something worth noticing. Usually something worth trying.
“Victor's Sunday Morning letters overflow with courage and the love.”
Robbie Swale — Executive Coach, Author— The Power to Choose
Four questions keep showing up in what I write. Every letter answers at least one of them.
The Toll
What success quietly asks us to pay.
The Origin
What home taught us that no boardroom could.
The Autopilot
What we keep doing after it stops serving us.
The Inheritance
What we were given, and what we pass on.
Born Rich
I might have this wrong, but I think Mother Teresa said:
"Hungry not only for bread—but hungry for love. Naked not only for clothing—but naked of human dignity and respect."
From that point of view, I was born rich.
Hey, it's Sunday Morning.
Great leadership isn't about power—it's about love.
Not...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the origin
Here, I Have a Story to Tell You
___
Five jobs that didn't make my resume. No. 5
___
Here, I have a story to tell you
Hey, It's Sunday Morning.
My last job didn’t come with a punch card, a paycheck or the smell of ink or dust or leather. It came with eyes watching me closely, silently wondering: How do I do this? Am I doing thi...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the origin
ChapulĂn Isn't Coming
___
Five jobs that didn't make my resume. No. 4
___
My boss hung up the phone, forehead creased.
"ChapulĂn isn't coming. Victor, you're up."
Just like that, one week before college, I was at the top of the heap.
I never knew his real name. We all called him ChapulĂn—named for the TV superhero in...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the origin
Clank, Clank
___
Five jobs that didn't make my resume. No. 3
___
“Binet, Binet,” I said,
“Why don’t you use the flat screwdriver?”
“Because it doesn’t fit the head of the screw,” my boss replied.
“Binet, Binet, why don’t you pull it gently instead of hammering?”
“Because the arm is stuck—and we need to rep...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the origin
The Magic Tricycle
___
Five jobs that didn't make my resume. No. 2
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“Ojos negros, piel canela, que me llevan a desesperar.”
"Dark eyes, skin like cinnamon, that drive me past the edge of longing."
That’s what my mother was singing, slightly out of tune, when I came home with sawdust clinging to my skin like proo...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the origin
La Vaca
Recently, I found a small thread, and pulled on it. What came loose were memories of labor. The kind that didn't seem important at the time.___
Five jobs that didn't make my resume. No. 1
___
Hey, it's Sunday Morning.
I was 9 years old when my childhood ended and began again. That's when I realiz...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the origin
The Other Jesus
Hey, it's Sunday Morning.
Not all lessons begin with a teacher.
Back in eighth grade, I thought I was popular.
I had a solid group of friends, decent off-the-wall skills, and hair that, according to at least three people, was objectively admirable. It wasn’t fame exactly, but I felt seen.
Until ...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the inheritance
Two Halves. Wholly.
Hey, it's Sunday Morning,
In the very early years, before the separation, on Friday evenings Papi would walk my brother and me to the corner store and buy a single yellow pencil and a notebook. A carpenter by trade, he had no use for the school sharpener. Instead, he'd pull out his chisel and cut...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the inheritance
The Trophies We Share
Hello, it's Sunday Morning.
They were announcing the Athlete of the Year. I sat in the back of the crowded auditorium, surrounded by the usual Loyola Polytechnic High School noise: clapping hands, dress shoes scraping the tile, someone whispering a bet about who would win. But I already knew who ...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the inheritance
Held
Hey, it's Sunday Morning,
My grandmother was born without a birth certificate and died ageless.
We celebrated her birthdays without ever knowing her vintage year. Which was, in its own way, weirdly beautiful, like her hands.
She had small and chunky, yet graceful, hands. Her thumbs were flat at t...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the inheritance
Not Every Beep Is Meant for You
Hello, it's Sunday Morning,
Over the course of my career, I’ve spent several stints working in India—weeks at a time, across big cities, small villages, and everything in between. And while the color, contrast, and human warmth are unforgettable, what has stuck with me most is the sound.
Not jus...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the autopilot
The bouncer in your head
You know him. He knows your name—but he’s kinda dumb.
Let's begin.
Back in the days when I used to go clubbing, I had these two effortlessly stylish friends—let’s call them Jane and Carl. They always managed to skip the line. No ID check, no waiting, no hassle. They just walked up, smiled, said a...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the autopilot
