Don’t Let Your Books Die on the Shelf: Building a Reflection System for Leaders
How many books did you read this past year? Whether the number feels impressively large or disappointingly small, I believe a far more important question follows close behind it: what have you done—or what are you currently doing—with everything you learned from it? It is one thing to track how many books you’ve read. It is something completely different, and far more consequential, to thoughtfully apply what you’ve consumed.
Woe to the leader who races from book to book simply to add another title to a running list, only to move on without pause or practice. Finishing a book should not be the finish line. If anything, it should be the starting point. When we close the final page, two questions deserve our immediate attention: So what? and Now what? What does this book actually mean for me, my leadership, and my context—and what should I do differently because of it?
A few weeks ago, I was having a conversation with a personal mentee—one of those wide-ranging discussions that flows easily between life, work, and leadership. At one point, we talked about what we had each been reading and what we were learning from it. In an admirable moment of honesty, he shared something that has stayed with me since. In his current role, managing a team of roughly 100 people, he estimated that he was only applying about 10–20% of what he was learning from the books he read. The remaining 80–90%, he said, felt difficult—if not impossible—to operationalize, largely due to personal and organizational capacity constraints.
That is a tough, fair, and likely very common admission. Many of us quietly arrive at the same conclusion but rarely say it out loud. We are reading excellent material. We are learning meaningful concepts. And yet, so much of it never makes the transition from insight to behavior. Too many good ideas quietly die when the book is closed, left behind on a shelf rather than integrated into our leadership practice.
I don’t believe there is a single universal solution to this challenge, and I certainly don’t claim to have the answer. What I do want to offer is an option—one that took me the better part of a decade to develop through trial and refinement. It is a method that can be sustained over time, adds a meaningful premium to your learning, and helps address the persistent gap between reading and doing. What follows is a deeply practical exploration of a reflective system designed to bring more of what we read to life.
First, I will outline five specific steps for building and maintaining this reading reflection system. Then, I will close with a set of considerations, challenges, and lessons learned along the way.
Steps to Initiate Your Reading Reflection System
Step 1: Be Intentional About What You Read Versus What You Listen To. This step is for those of us that read physical books (and e-books) as well as listen to audiobooks. Not all books are best consumed in the same format. Over time, I have learned to be deliberate about which books I physically read and which ones I listen to as audiobooks. When I expect a book to generate a high volume of notes, quotations, or nuanced ideas, I reserve it for physical reading. Listening can make it easier to miss precise language or gloss over important details.
That does not mean audiobooks lack value. On the contrary, I often find that I gain strong thematic insights from listening, better able to make big picture connections across the book. However, those insights tend to be broader and less detailed. Because of that, there are books I intentionally delay reading until I have the capacity to sit with them in print. They may linger on my ever-growing “to-read” list for a while—and that is perfectly fine. This is not a race. The key is simply to be thoughtful about format and intention.
Step 2: Actively Mark Up and Capture Thoughts While You Read. Reading passively is easy. Reading actively takes effort but pays dividends. As you read, highlight quotes, underline ideas, and write personal notes in the margins. Capture questions, reactions, agreements, and disagreements. Mark it all up. This is why I never read without a pen or highlighter nearby.
For audiobooks, I take a parallel approach by keeping a running note on my phone. As ideas stand out, I pause and capture them—key themes, questions, or moments that provoke reflection. The goal in both cases is the same: externalize and capture your thinking while it is still fresh.
Step 3: Type and Consolidate Your Notes After Finishing the Book. Once you complete a book, the next step is critical: type out your notes. For each book, I create a new Word document and transcribe every highlighted quote and margin note into a bulleted list. I include page numbers at the end of each entry for any needed future reference. When the note reflects a personal margin comment rather than a direct quote, I label it clearly as a “personal note,” but you can also annotate those through italics, asterisks, or other means that help you distinguish between types of notes.
This step transforms scattered annotations into a single, coherent, and structured product. All your insights from the book now live in one place—consolidated, searchable, and accessible.
Step 4: Build Both a Digital and Physical Book Reflection Portfolio. Accessibility is everything. First, create a digital portfolio that houses all your typed book notes. I keep a dedicated “Book Reflections” folder in my personal OneDrive, with a separate Word document for each book organized alphabetically by title. You may prefer OneNote, Notion, or another system entirely, but the specific tool matters far less than your willingness to use it consistently.
Next, build a physical portfolio. I use a three-inch binder with page protectors and treat it as my book reflection journal. Every time I finish typing notes for a book, I print them and add them to the binder. I organize mine chronologically by reading order, but again, the structure should serve you.
Step 5: Schedule a Reflection Week Every 6–12 Months. Up to this point, you have done meaningful work—but the insights are still, in a sense, bound and dormant. This final step is what unlocks the system’s full value.
Every six to twelve months, I schedule a personal reflection week. During that week, I stop all current reading and instead, spend my reading time revisiting my physical reflection binder. This accomplishes two powerful objectives. First, it allows me to re-engage the existing ideas on the printed notes through the lens of new experience. Second, it creates opportunities to connect ideas across books that were never meant to be read together.
Many of the ideas published through 3x5 Leadership—articles, frameworks, and workshops—emerge from my reflection weeks (like this article on connecting types of feedback to the components of developmental experiences). As I read my binder that week, I keep a notepad nearby to capture new insights and concrete actions to help make reflection become generative, not merely repetitive.
Understanding the Benefits of the System
This system is demanding; there is no way around that. Typing notes, maintaining portfolios, and setting aside reflection time all require time and discipline. The returns are rarely immediate, which makes the system easy to deprioritize. That is precisely why it is important to be clear about its benefits.
This system consolidates insight into an accessible portfolio. Instead of having your best ideas scattered across dozens (if not hundreds) of books you may never reopen, this system pools them into a single, searchable repository. I often return to these notes when designing workshops, building and introducing new developmental activities for my team, or solving new organizational challenges.
It keeps ideas alive over time. Without intentional reflection, even powerful ideas fade. A week of reflection resurfaces insights from years past and keeps them relevant.
It generates new ideas by connecting existing ones. Reflection clarifies meaning and creates novelty. By revisiting your growing body of insights, you create conditions for synthesis.
I like to think of the insights we gain from books as dots. Every time we read a new book, we gain a few more dots of insight. Having more dots is good! That helps us learn from more than our mere singular experiences. However, it can be hard to manage a lot of dots, especially if we continue to add more each week. This system allows you to pool them all together and, more importantly, organize them for easy access.
It strengthens the learning–reflection link. Just reading is incomplete. We don’t commit to exploring the so what and now what from it. This system institutionalizes a pause in learning, forcing us to wrestle with the so what and now what before moving on, ultimately strengthening the learning-reflection link.
Application Considerations and Common Challenges
Over time, a few lessons have become clear. First, I find that reflection weeks are most effective when spaced six to twelve months apart—too frequent becomes unsustainable with minimal returns; too infrequent weakens the habit.
Second, typing notes is often the biggest barrier in this system, as it offers little immediate payoff. I have found success either scheduling it directly into my calendar or pairing it with low-capacity activities at home, like while watching TV at the end of the day after the kids go to bed once a week.
Third and finally, this approach extends beyond developmental books you read. I personally maintain two additional reflection portfolios. One is for broader learning experiences, which captures the insights I’ve gathered from other learning sources like magazines, articles, podcasts, lectures, conferences, and other stand-alone developmental experiences into a single running document. I call this one my “Master Reflection Journal.” The second is for faith-based reflection with the insights gathered from my Bible reading and Sunday sermon notes. The same principles apply to these as those we’ve already outlined, to include integrating them into my reflection weeks.
Closing Thoughts
Our leadership is not improved simply by how much we read, but by how thoughtfully we integrate what we learn. Books are only as valuable as the behaviors they shape, the decisions they influence, and the people they ultimately impact. If we are serious about our growth, we must treat reflection not as an abstract concept or a mere luxury, but as a disciplined behavior.
This system is not about reading more. It is about honoring what you have already read. It is about refusing to let good ideas quietly expire. And it is about building a leadership practice where learning does not end at the final page but begins there.
The question, then, is no longer how many books you will read this or next year—but what you will do with them once they are finished.