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.
Tags: the origin
Showing 12 results:
Demetrio Oviedo
The stage was a precarious amphitheater.
Flying feathers. Sweat. Rum.
And a man on the floor, gasping for the air to pronounce a name.
His name was Chechen. Or rather, that's what everyone called him, because his real name was the kind that couldn't quite contain him. He was the sort of man who f...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 02, 2026
the origin
The Glass
We all heard it.
A shriek so loud everyone near me turned.
"Papiii!!!"
What I saw first was a blob of humanity. A mass of bodies standing, arms wrapped around each other so tightly there seemed no space for breathing. A little boy (maybe a grandson) hanging on to a leg.
Slowly the mass came apart...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 02, 2026
the origin
Clap When You Land
Hey, it's Sunday Morning.
Clap when you land. That's what we do when we get home. A well-worn tradition that speaks of joy and the blessing of safe arrival.
In her novel-in-verse Clap When You Land, Elizabeth Acevedo captures this ritual with such grace: "We clap when we land / in the Dominican R...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the origin
Carry Your Own Salt and Pepper
Dear one who's still waiting, it's Sunday Morning.
The day I left the island, one passport got the stamp, but two people arrived in New York City. One carried dreams, the other carried silence.
The dreams were vivid, but I didn’t notice the silence until the day I ordered a sandwich at the deli. ...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the origin
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
___
“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
Everyone has an accent.
Hey, it's Sunday Morning.
Have you ever tried to fix something about yourself just to feel more normal?
I did.
I thought that if I could smooth out the edges—change how I sounded, carried myself, or showed up—I’d finally belong. I thought that playing the part would make me feel complete.
For ye...
by Victor Rivera —
Sep 01, 2026
the origin
In American, we don’t do that.
Hey, it’s Sunday Morning,
I had just started my first job in New York. Young and unfamiliar with everything, including how people said hello.
My first client was Michelle. She walked in, and I stood up to greet her the way I would back home—with a kiss on the cheek. It wasn’t romantic or dramatic...
by Victor Rivera —
Aug 30, 2026
the origin
