Mara Mcneil

Slap - thousand. Two thousand. Three thousand… That is the count that starts the longest thirteen seconds of an Air Force Academy cadet’s life – the time from when you voluntarily stepping out of an airplane and pulling your parachute. Gravity is accelerating everything, and it is easy to forget your ‘simple’ job: stabilize yourself and deploy your parachute at exactly the right moment. At the beginning of 2026, I participated in the Dear World project help at the PayPal leadership summit. They asked each person to write a word on their body that represented something important about their life. I wrote Free Fall on my arm. Then I crossed out the word Fall and replaced it with Flow. To explain what that means, the answer belongs long before that photograph. I grew up in a hardworking family. My father immigrated to the United States and built a small business. My mother worked just as hard to help support our family. I don't remember deciding to become independent. I remember watching my parents carry burdens they rarely talked about. Like many children, I made a quiet promise to myself: don't become another burden. Figure things out. Be dependable. Don't need too much. Looking back, I realize I wasn't becoming strong. I was becoming self-reliant. That belief served me well for a long time. It helped me earn an appointment to the Air Force Academy. It helped me survive military training. It pushed me toward difficult assignments throughout my career. I learned to enjoy problems that other people avoided. New organizations. New products. New regulations. New teams. Places where there wasn't yet a map. The Air Force Academy free-fall parachute training story is a poignant example. After exiting the aircraft, the first thing you do is Slap of your hands against your legs as you establish your body position and then you count out the 13 seconds before you pull the cord for your parachute. Looking back, I realize I wasn't just learning to jump from airplanes. I was establishing comfort in the uncomfortable that would serve me well in life. Every challenge became another jump. Figure it out. Stabilize yourself. Carry the responsibility. Pull your own chute. Around that same time, as a sophomore at the Academy, I became a Christian. I discovered something that changed my life forever. I was loved by God—not because of what I could accomplish, but because I belonged to Him. That truth changed my destination. It did not immediately change my habits. For years afterward, I still lived as though every important outcome ultimately depended on me. The best opportunities for me to get over myself came with I embraced moments where my skills and resources could never be enough. During the Great Recession as well as during Covid, I watched families worry about jobs, dealers struggle to survive, and leadership teams make difficult decisions with incomplete information. I discovered something: when I leaned into uncertainty and listen to the deeper currents operating around the situation, I would find the work that I was pulled into was more helping people find a way forward than providing a blueprint myself. In order to best practice stewardship, I practice a number of daily rhythms. Each morning, before opening email or preparing for meetings, I try to spend time with God. It reminds me whose work this ultimately is. That daily practice helps me find Flow. Flow isn't passive. It's entering difficult conversations with peace instead of fear. It's listening before speaking. It's trusting teammates and colleagues. It's remembering that there are no ‘interruptions’ to the mission. Every detour, illness, setback and painful struggle is part of the mission and an opportunity to pray together or otherwise gaining a way to build a shared foundation. I realize I am the best leader by giving as much away as possible and understanding that my posture should always be “In Service” to others. I've learned to lead generative discussions and sponsor co-creating for shared success. To celebrate shared victories instead of personal achievements. To trust that God is working through setbacks and detours and has a greater plan that I can see. The word Flow reminds me that my greatest work has never come from striving harder. It has come from trusting deeper. Today, I find myself with an amazing team co-creating through ambiguity to form what will become PayPal Bank. And my biggest mission is helping people find purpose and peace as we do.