Between Control And Letting Go: Navigating The Tension In Leadership (Part 2/3)

Part 2: What Is Ours To Control, And What Is Not

In the first post of this series, we explored how the impulse to control can inadvertently take hold in leadership (and everywhere in life).

The tightening in the jaw.
The urgency to push a point across.
The sense that if you don’t steer things firmly enough, things will fall apart.

Once you begin to notice that impulse, the next step is learning to ask a different question:

What is actually yours to control here, and what is not?

This question is where many leaders get challenged. If leadership comes with responsibility, responsibility can easily slide into the unconscious belief that everything is yours to manage.

Some things are. And many aren’t.

For example, in a conversation with a colleague or a team member:

You can control:

• The steadiness of your presence
• The clarity of what you communicate
• The care you bring to your words
• Your willingness to listen

But you can’t control:

• How quickly someone processes what they hear
• What meaning they make of your words
• How they feel in response
• Whether they immediately agree with you

It’s not a flaw in the system; it’s part of what makes real, useful collaboration possible.

If leaders could control other people’s reactions, emotions, or understanding, teams would be made of extensions of the leader rather than individual thinking beings who can contribute unique talents.

Leadership would become management of compliance, instead of development of collective intelligence.

Therefore, part of evolving as a leader is beginning to explore this boundary more clearly:

What belongs to you. And what belongs to others.

Noticing and working with this question anchors your effort where it can actually have an impact.

In the next post, we’ll explore how leaders learn to navigate the tension between control and letting go once this distinction becomes clearer.

In your leadership conversations, where might you be trying to control something that was never yours to control in the first place?

Between Control And Letting Go: Navigating The Tension In Leadership (Part 1/3)

Over the next three posts, I’ll be exploring a tension that every leader - every human actually - faces: the push and pull between control and letting go. How do we notice it? How do we navigate it? How do we decide what to hold and what to release? Part 1 focuses on the first step: awareness.

Part 1: The Hidden Grip Of Control

We like to think we’re in charge. We want things to go right, to be predictable, to feel safe. We want to protect outcomes, relationships, even our sense of self. This is natural. Most of the time, it doesn’t cause harm.

But for some people, the attachment to control becomes an addiction that can show up everywhere: in how they structure their days, in their work, in their relationships. Sometimes it’s small - a tightening in the body when plans change, a quickened breath when someone doesn’t follow their expectations. Sometimes it’s bigger - a constant urge to steer, manage, or anticipate every turn, with disproportionate reactions and negative consequences in their well-being and relationships. In communication, control can indeed quickly create friction: over-explaining, pressing for agreement, or rushing to fix problems before understanding has a chance to emerge.

Control often starts with good intentions. We want to be responsible, prevent mistakes, and care for others. But it is also rooted in fear or the mistaken belief that letting go equals passivity, risk, or failure. Sometimes it even becomes part of one’s identity - defining oneself as the one who has the power to make things happen, or to ensure that things don’t go wrong.

There is nothing wrong with being responsible, committed and impactful. It’s being overly attached to control where it doesn’t make sense that causes pain and eventually leads to suffering. 

The first step in loosening the grip of control is awareness. Notice when and where control shows up - in your body, your thoughts, your interactions. Pause and ask yourself: When do I try to control outcomes? What am I trying to protect? When do I push for agreement instead of understanding? Observing these impulses without judgment creates space for insight and choice.

Leadership, like other aspects of life, asks us to navigate the tension between what we can and can’t control. Simply noticing where the attachment for control enters our thoughts, actions, and conversations is a powerful first step.

Where do you notice control - subtly or not so subtly - showing up in your life or work?

Mindfulness In The Real World: From The Cushion To The Conversation (Part 3/3)

Part 3: Two Minds In The Room

In Part 1, we began our practice in controlled conditions. Mindfulness was not about relaxation, but about building the capacity to stay present with discomfort.

In Part 2, we took that capacity into the field. Still on our own, but now in the world - navigating traffic, emails, headlines, interruptions - learning to notice activation without immediately reacting to it.

Part 3 raises the stakes to the most challenging situations.

Now there is another person in front of you.

A colleague questions your judgment.
A partner misinterprets your intent.
A child throws a tantrum.
A client pushes back.
A disagreement escalates.

This is where self-regulation in real time becomes most difficult, and most necessary.

When another mind enters the room, activation increases. Our nervous systems are wired to detect social threats. A shift in tone. A tightened jaw. Silence. Disagreement. All of it can register as risks.

When we are dysregulated, we either shut down or rev up. Communication deteriorates quickly.

We interrupt.
We defend.
We become sharp.
We withdraw.

We call it a communication problem.
Often, it is a self-regulation problem.

If we cannot notice the early surge of defensiveness, the tightening in the throat, the heat rising in the chest, the urgency to prove a point or the impulse to withdraw, we will speak and act from that activation.

Taking mindfulness into conversations means recognizing emotional activation in real time, while speaking and while listening. It means being able to slow down right away to create space for choice.

It means pausing and being curious.
It means staying with discomfort without discharging it immediately.
It means tolerating not being understood, and choosing to focus on the other person first.

This is the highest level of skill.

Because now it is not just about managing our internal state. It is about prioritizing  the quality of the interaction.

Two minds are in the room.

Our ability to regulate ourselves determines what becomes possible between oneself and the other person.

Communication failures are often self-regulation failures.
And self-regulation can be trained.

Mindfulness In The Real World: From The Cushion To The Conversation (Part 2/3)

Part 2: Taking It To The Field

In Part 1, we looked at mindfulness as a practice that begins in controlled conditions so that we are trained for uncontrolled ones. We sit down, limit distractions, and observe our thoughts, emotions, and bodily sensations. The stakes are relatively low.

In Part 2, we are still on our own, but now we are in the world.

We are driving in traffic and feel anger rise when someone cuts us off.
We read a news headline and notice a constriction in the chest.
We open an email and watch our mood drop in seconds.
We are standing in line, already late, feeling impatience build.

No one is directly confronting us. And yet, our nervous system is activated.

This is what the practice discussed in Part 1 was for.

We were not training for an “empty mind” or perfect peace.
We were building the capacity to notice activation without immediately reacting to it.

In the field, we don’t control the conditions. We are surrounded by triggers - noise, interruption, unpredictability. Internal reactions surface faster and often more intensely. How we choose to act in the middle of these situations makes all the difference.

Taking mindfulness into the world means recognizing activation as it happens in real time - the tightening in the body, the surge of emotion, the story forming in the mind - and slowing the process before acting impulsively. It’s about buying ourselves enough time to shift from reactivity to choice.

We are not suppressing our thoughts or emotions.
We are not letting them ride like wild animals either.

We are strengthening the same capacity that we built on the cushion: the ability to observe, regulate, and choose our response - now under pressure and with higher stakes.

If that capacity only exists in a controlled environment, it is fragile.

When it functions in traffic, in front of a screen, in the middle of urgency, it becomes usable. It becomes powerful.

This is the bridge between private practice and relational practice.

Because if we cannot stay present with our own activation when we are alone in the world, it will be far more difficult to do so when another person is involved.

The field tests what the cushion allowed us to build.

Mindfulness In The Real World: From The Cushion To The Conversation (Part 1/3)

Part 1: Beyond A Spa Practice

Mindfulness is often described as a way to relax or “clear your mind.”

That’s incomplete, and sometimes wrong. I don’t know about you, but “clearing my mind” has not been straightforward, even after 20 years of mindfulness practice.

In any case, the point of mindfulness isn’t comfort. It’s building capacity for:

• Noticing what’s happening inside of you.

• Staying present with discomfort.

• Resisting the urge to react automatically.

When we practice on the cushion - or mat, chair, wherever it works - the stakes are low. We’re alone, distractions are limited. It’s still challenging: we’re with our thoughts, feelings, and bodily sensations which can become rabbit roles or triggers for pain.

But no one is testing us. No one is misinterpreting us. No one is questioning us.

That’s why the work starts here: alone, in controlled conditions. We train our mind to notice, to return to presence again and again, each time that we’re being carried away.

This is the foundation. Without it, handling complex situations - in the real world, in high stake situations, with other minds -  isn’t possible.

Mindfulness isn’t a spa practice, it’s training ourselves for reality.

Clarity Is An Act Of Care

“Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind.” (Brené Brown)

Lack of clarity can be caused by understandable reasons:

• Wanting to be nice

• Wanting to stay collaborative and flexible

• Still figuring things out oneself

When leaders face these situations, they might stay vague.
They hope that clarifications will naturally come later.

But what often emerges instead is confusion, frustration and wasted time.

Clarity doesn’t have to be blunt or pushy.
And it’s not about having all the answers yet.

Clarity is responsibility and care, taking the time to think it through and say what you mean with precision.

That’s kind - and effective - leadership.

What Productive Conflict Actually Looks Like

Most leaders say that they want their team members to share their opinion. They might even promote an “open debate”.

Unfortunately few actually make it safe or worthwhile to disagree.

“Share your opinion” sounds good in theory. In practice, disagreement is often subtly or not so subtly discouraged, especially when it’s uncomfortable.

Productive conflict isn’t loud.
It doesn’t rely on volume, intensity, or strong opinions clashing.
It’s quieter, and noticeably slower.

Unproductive conflict is fast.
Positions solidify quickly.
People defend, convince, or disengage.
It’s either loud, or completely numb.

In productive conflict, people pause to clarify what they actually think, feel, and sense - and why.
They take their time before speaking.
They ask where they disagree, not who is wrong.
They stay with the tension instead of rushing to resolution.

Doing conflict well requires more than psychological safety.
It requires conflict discipline.

Productive disagreement depends on:
* Curiosity instead of control
* Precision instead of persuasion
* Tolerating not knowing instead of pushing tor closure

That’s difficult for high performers, especially in technical environments where speed, certainty, and expertise are rewarded.

What often gets labeled as “alignment” is actually:
* Premature agreement
* Unspoken reservations
* Deferred disagreement that resurfaces later

Leaders who truly value disagreement do something quite radical:
They slow the conversation down.
They get curious when a disagreement is expressed.
They don’t rescue the team from discomfort.

Real alignment isn’t created by quick and performative agreement.
It’s formed by working through differences, carefully, rigorously, and in the open.

That’s how leaders can truly tap into the collective intelligence of their  team.

The Strange Insanity Of Being Addicted To Our Patterns

“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.”

This quote is often attributed to Einstein, but it actually comes from a novel by Rita Mae Brown.

Repetition isn’t the problem. It’s actually how we learn.

We practice our craft, repeat skills, and rehearse behaviors so they’re available when it matters most. That kind of repetition builds capacity and talent.

Today, I want to discuss a different kind of repetition. The kind that keeps us stuck.

It’s the repetition of personality patterns: the automatic ways we interpret situations, manage emotions, protect ourselves, and relate to others. These patterns were formed a long time ago and reinforced repeatedly, each time they helped us feel safer or better under stress.

What makes them so compelling is that they work very well in the short term, even though they often create problems in the long term.

We find comfort in predictability. Our nervous systems often prefer a known frustration to an unknown possibility. So we repeat behaviors because something in us has become attached to the short-term benefits of the pattern.

I knew this cycle well. For years, I brought the same ineffective ways of relating into very different relationships - professional and personal - while hoping for deeper connection and more fulfillment. What I got was a familiar set of dynamics, over and over again. The problem wasn’t goodwill or effort, it was that I was operating on autopilot and didn’t even know it.

With self-compassion, I can say that it was quite insane.

Real change began when I could finally see the pattern itself and the deeper logic driving it.

For me, the key that unlocked the whole structure was the Enneagram.

The Enneagram exposes underlying motivations, mental, emotional, and behavioral strategies, and early adaptations that define how we perceive reality and respond to it. It offers a precise map of where we’re stuck and what reinforces the loop. It shines a laser-sharp light on the very patterns we’re most likely to be blind to. It also shows our innate strengths - capacities that we can engage intentionally in service of our inner work.

That depth matters because when we try to change behavior without understanding the engine beneath it, we often recreate the same pattern in a slightly different form and wonder why we get the same unfortunate results.

The investment of learning to recognize and disengage from my own patterns paid off. It returned choice - in how I listen, how I respond, and whether I stay merged with an old strategy or step into something new.

That’s what finally stopped the insanity for me.

Where in your professional or personal life might you be repeating a pattern not because it’s effective, but because it’s automatic? And what might become possible if you had more freedom there?

When Attunement Slips Into Entanglement

I’ve written many times about the importance of developing attunement as a leadership skill. Attunement is the capacity to notice what’s happening beneath the surface: shifts in tone, hesitation, unspoken tension, emotional undercurrents - and being willing and able to act on these observations wisely to strengthen relationships. It’s a critical aspect of communication, and one that’s often underdeveloped in technical and performance-driven environments.

At the same time, leaders in more human-centered fields often struggle with the other side of the coin: not a lack of sensitivity, but too much entanglement.

It’s essential to find a healthy equilibrium between sensitivity and responsibility, and that equilibrium depends on our capacity for self-regulation.

Sensitivity allows us to perceive.
Responsibility allows us to act.
Regulation allows us to choose wisely how and when to act.

Without regulation, sensitivity can quickly turn into over-responsibility.

This is where the distinction between attunement and entanglement becomes essential.

Attunement looks like:
* Sensing tone, energy, hesitation, and relational dynamics
* Holding what you perceive lightly, without rushing to interpret
* Remaining curious, spacious, and internally steady

Entanglement looks like:
* Absorbing others’ emotions and internal states
* Getting attached to what you perceive and making projections
* Moving into action to relieve discomfort, theirs or your own

Entanglement happens when sensing becomes absorbing. When noticing someone’s discomfort turns into managing it. When we soften necessary clarity, over-empathize, or intervene prematurely to reduce emotional friction - often without realizing it.

The issue isn’t caring too much.
It’s confusing awareness with obligation.
It’s going from receptivity to control.

As I developed my own attunement skills, I noticed the occasional slip into “too much”: listening too actively, reflecting too much of what was being said, empathizing too quickly. What helped wasn’t dialing down sensitivity - it was strengthening boundaries, including when it comes to timing.

Boundaries allow us to ask:
* What am I perceiving?
* What am I responsible for?
* What is mine to act on, and what isn’t?

Without boundaries, sensitivity blurs roles, drains energy, and paradoxically reduces effectiveness. With boundaries, the same sensitivity becomes a source of discernment, and makes leadership more credible and trustworthy.

Sensitive, attuned leadership isn’t about carrying everyone else’s emotional load.
It’s about staying regulated and enough to respond wisely.

Attunement informs leadership.
Boundaries make it sustainable.
Mature communication starts with knowing what’s yours to carry, and what isn’t.

Are You Hearing What Isn’t Being Said?

“The most important thing in communication is hearing what isn’t being said.” (Peter Drucker)

We communicate in more than words.
Body language, tone, timing - and what’s omitted - often reveal more than the words that are spoken.

This ability to hear what isn’t said is an essential communication skill and a core aspect of the Social Instinct: the capacity to read between the lines, sense the relational field, and notice what’s missing in what’s being shared.

In STEM environments especially, facts are often clear - while feelings, assumptions, and misalignments tend to stay hidden.

The main reason I talk so much about communication - and why I work with leaders on this topic - is because this is where I struggled early in my own career.

Being low in the Social Instinct meant that I often missed subtle cues: hesitation, tension, or unspoken concerns. I heard the words, but not the full message, and I definitely didn’t pay enough attention to the impact I was having on others.

There is good news!
Listening at this level isn’t just a trait of people strong in the Social Instinct. It’s a skill that can be trained.

And for those of us who aren’t naturals, learning to listen for what isn’t said is truly life-changing work.

Leaders who learn to detect these signals early prevent misunderstanding, conflict, and wasted effort, not by talking more or better, but by attuning better.

Want to strengthen your leadership?
In your next meeting or conversation, start noticing what isn’t being said, and perhaps consider inquiring about it.

The Spectrum Of Truthfulness: Why Choosing The Right Level Matters

I’ve been in a few professional situations where a leader or colleague “came clean” after a communication failure - and called it transparency.

For me, that wasn’t transparency. Decisions had been made without including the people affected, information was shared only after the consequences were obvious, yet the word “transparency” was used to describe admitting what had already happened.

This got me thinking about the levels of truthfulness, and how we label our own intentions.

Here is a spectrum I find helpful:

* Coming Clean: Truth shared after concealment or omission. Reactive and corrective - often necessary - but still costly to trust.
* Honesty: Answering truthfully when asked. Ethically sound but reactive, and limited to the questions posed. It puts the onus on others to know what to ask.
* Disclosure: Proactively sharing relevant information to prevent misunderstanding or conflict of interest. Context-specific and intention-driven, acknowledging others’ stake in the situation.
* Transparency: Proactively sharing information others need to orient, prepare, and choose - even at the cost of personal comfort or control. It’s relational and attuned, sharing the power of knowledge and balancing timing, courage, and awareness. It’s a high standard.

I’ve seen well-intentioned leaders struggle with choosing the adequate level of truthfulness. Fear of vulnerability, attachment to power, self-doubt, or a desire to protect someone or something can make honesty, disclosure, or transparency challenging. It’s a difficult skill to master because personality patterns get in the way.

Why choosing the right level matters:

* Avoiding future problems: Failing to disclose or be transparent when necessary can erode trust and require repair conversations.
* Preventing credibility gaps: Mislabeling truthfulness creates confusion.
* Protecting boundaries: On the other hand, oversharing can feel intrusive. Sometimes less is more, but that choice needs to come from wisdom, not avoidance.

Disclosure or transparency aren’t always required. Sometimes even answering truthfully isn’t appropriate if it crosses boundaries. In those cases, there’s a better alternative than lying or withholding information:

“I’m not comfortable answering that question, so I’m going to decline giving this information.”

It’s clear, boundaried, and respectful - with no deception and no need to “come clean” later.

Next time you’re in a conversation, ask yourself:

* Which level of truthfulness am I choosing, and why?
* What is at stake for the people involved?
* Am I protecting myself or supporting others’ agency?
* Would a boundary be more truthful than the alternatives?

Truthfulness must be a conscious choice, so that credibility and trust are built in every conversation.

Living A Life Of Practices: Three Non-Negotiables For Presence And Resilience

Progress is repetition, not resolution.

As the year winds down, I’ve been reflecting on the leaders and teams I worked with in 2025, and one conclusion keeps coming up:

Progress doesn’t come from inspiration or motivation.
Real development comes from practice - intentional, repeated, often boring practice.

It’s about living a life of practices: cultivating a way of being that is grounded, steady, and embodied.

Over time, I’ve come to treat three families of practices as non-negotiable for myself, and I recommend them to anyone who wants to lead with presence, stay humane under pressure, and communicate in an attuned way.

1. Mindfulness - Training the pause

This is the practice that allows the return to awareness under any kind of distraction or stress.

It’s about training yourself to notice what’s happening inside you before you respond instead of reacting automatically.

Sometimes that looks like:

* Five minutes of stillness
* Sensing the body
* Noticing thoughts without engaging them

Mindfulness isn’t about “feeling calm.”
It’s training to create a choice where there used to only be an autopilot.

2. Emotional self-regulation - Stabilizing the nervous system

Self-regulation means learning to stay present in the middle of the activation, especially in difficult conversations.

This may look like:

* Slowing the breath when your system speeds up
* Naming your internal state before responding
* Choosing openness instead of defensiveness

Self-regulation isn’t controlling emotions.
It’s expanding your capacity to stay present when things get uncomfortable.

3. Grounding - Bringing the body back online

We can’t think our way into integration.
The body is where alignment - or misalignment - happens.

Grounding might mean:

* Stretching, mobility exercises, walking
* Reconnecting with the breath during the workday
* Remembering your body when the mind takes over

Grounding isn’t a permanent state.
It’s a practice of reanchoring into the here and now by listening to the body.

As I prepare myself for 2026, I’m not making new resolutions.
I’m continuing to commit - and recommit - to my three daily non-negotiables.

How about you? Are you stepping into 2026 with practices of your own?
I’d love to hear what you’re committing to.

Leadership Is A Way Of Being, Not A Role: Lessons From Raising A Dog

Over ten years ago, we adopted a puppy. Raising him unexpectedly sharpened my understanding of servant leadership.

First off, the burden of responsibility is mine. I’m the leader and my role is to serve his well-being. His safety, health, learning, and emotional regulation depend on my discernment, consistency, and care. Authority without responsibility would be meaningless.

Secondly, unlike humans, my dog doesn’t use words. Leading him well requires attunement: observing behavior, noticing small shifts, and interpreting needs rather than projecting my own assumptions. When I miss his signal, the result is usually confusion or dysregulation, his and mine.

Finally, while discipline matters, the relationship is grounded in trust and care. Structure exists to support thriving, not control for its own sake. When my dog’s needs are met, his learning accelerates. When they’re not, his resistance increases.

This isn’t about comparing people to pets; it’s about the inner posture that servant leadership requires when leaders take responsibility for others’ well-being and growth.

The best leaders don’t lead through dominance or performance alone. They serve the conditions that allow others to do their best work: clarity, psychological safety, boundaries, feedback, and development.

Servant leadership isn’t soft. It’s demanding. It requires presence, self-regulation, and accountability for impact, not just intent.

My dog reminds me of that every day.

Effective Communication Isn’t About Content. It’s About Development

Most communication breakdowns aren’t skill issues.
They’re developmental issues.

Two people can express the same content and create completely different outcomes.
One creates safety and movement.
The other creates defensiveness or shutdown.

The difference isn’t in the content.
It’s in what each person can hold internally while speaking and listening.

You can’t control how the other person handle their part.
But how you show up will strongly influence whether things regulate or escalate.

Your level of development determines:

* What you can notice in real time, in yourself and others
* How much emotional charge you can tolerate without discharging it
* Whether you react automatically or can pause and make a choice
* How much nervous system activation you can regulate in real time
* Your discernment about when to speak, what to share, and what not to make about you

A real example from yesterday, one that would have been impossible for me twenty years ago:

My husband and I were on a walk, and he decided to share about a sensitive topic that comes up once in a while.
It’s vulnerable for him, and quite activating for me too.

As I felt the nervous system activation rising along my spine, I slowed my pace, deepened my breath, and focused on listening.
I was actively regulating and resisting rehearsing my response.

When he asked for my opinion, I didn’t jump in.
I said that I was sensing a lot inside myself (I knew I was at risk of "vomiting" a lot of opinions and emotions) and I needed to understand the limits of what he was hoping to hear.
I shared within those parameters.

Only later - once he was fully finished - did I share my own activation, and only after checking whether he had capacity for it.

Not because my experience didn’t matter.
But because in that moment, sharing too quickly or too extensively would have intensified things and added too much to his own vulnerability.

That wasn’t “being nice.”
It was discernment.
That’s the result of development in action.

The same capacity applies in professional settings, just with less intimacy and a greater emphasis on efficiency.

Communication isn’t just about expressing yourself or passively listening.

It’s about knowing:
* When expression serves connection
* When restraint serves safety
* And when timing matters more than saying everything right now
This is nervous system regulation.

And it’s also self-awareness, emotional maturity, and relational intelligence.

If communication keeps going sideways, don’t just ask: “How can I say this better?”
Inquire instead: “What capacity is being asked of me here, and do I actually have it yet?”

Because content doesn’t lead.
Development does.

A Non-Woo Look At The Enneagram For Skeptical Leaders

Being skeptical about the Enneagram is perfectly valid. It has a reputation for being “woo,” and unlike the Big Five, it isn’t scientifically validated.
Skepticism comes from a healthy part of us, the part that doesn’t swallow information without checking sources or making sense of things.

And it’s also true that the Enneagram has been misused at times (usually through stereotyping or forcefully typing others), so it’s understandable to keep some distance when that has happened.

The Enneagram has two aspects: a psychological one and a spiritual one. They’re interconnected, and both offer something powerful depending on your background and interests.
And it’s completely fine to focus on the psychological side only - the strengths and challenges, the patterns and habits, and the communication tendencies - and let go of the spiritual side if it’s not your thing.

That’s the lane I work in with most of my STEM clients (with some exceptions), and it’s where leaders get the most practical value in the workplace.

From that perspective, the Enneagram becomes an awareness-building and pattern-recognition tool, a way to understand the automatic habits that influence how we handle stress, make decisions, and interact with others. It also helps us catch the moment when we lose presence or shift into autopilot mode.

That’s why many STEM professionals end up appreciating it after their initial resistance. In my trainings and coaching, I hear it all the time: “Wow, this is actually incredible. This should be taught in high school and college.”

The Enneagram gives language to patterns of thinking, feeling, and behaving that  they’ve noticed for years but couldn’t fully explain or more importantly, interrupt.

Here are a couple of quick communication examples -  and yes, I’m simplifying types more than I usually like:

• Type 1: Organized, precise, and principled, but may over-correct others, edit internally while listening, or tighten their tone when something feels “off” or imperfect.

• Type 7: Energetic, optimistic, and creative, but may unintentionally talk over people, jump topics quickly, or avoid hard conversations that feel uncomfortable.

Neither is good or bad. They’re simply patterns.
And once you can see a pattern, we can learn to interrupt the autopilot and choose a different way to show up.

That’s the real value of the Enneagram in communication:
Self-awareness leads to more choice, which leads to better interactions and therefore stronger teams.

Think of one interaction with another person that happened this week.
What pattern of yours showed up? And what was it pursuing or protecting?

The 3 Communication Blind Spots I See Most In STEM Leaders

(And not just in STEM!)

Most STEM leaders I’ve worked with are smart, capable, and deeply committed to doing excellent work.
Unfortunately communication is often where things go downhill, not because they lack skill, but because no one ever taught them what really matters.

Here are the three blind spots I see most often:

1. Overvaluing precision over perception:
Leaders often focus on getting the words right while overlooking how their message is landing. Precision matters, but it can’t override attunement.

2. Treating communication as information, not meaning-making:
Leaders tend to assume that communication is complete once the words have been spoken and heads have nodded. Information delivered doesn't equal information understood because shared understanding requires slowing down for alignment, checking assumptions, and confirming understanding and agreements.

3. Overestimating their own regulation under stress:
Leaders might believe that they’re being either calm or “just direct” but their facial expression, tone, or pace tells a different story. Under pressure, the nervous system takes over: defending, over-explaining, shutting down, speeding up, etc.

What’s the cost of these blind spots?

When leaders can’t see these patterns, the consequences negatively affect teams and organizations:
* Leaders who feel misunderstood and exhausted
* Emotional reactivity that derail conversations
* Decisions that feel rushed because people don’t feel heard
* Missed promotions and stalled careers
* Teams that feel misaligned or confused

None of these is a character problem.
It’s an awareness problem,  and awareness is absolutely trainable.

What to do about it

If you’re a STEM leader (or managing them), here’s where to start:
* Slow your internal tempo by 5-10%.
* Pay attention to tone, expression, and pace - they carry more meaning than the words.
* Check assumptions explicitly.
* Shift from transmitting information to creating shared meaning.
* Notice when your nervous system takes over presence.

These small adjustments will transform your communication and enhance your impact as a leader.

Which of these blind spots do you recognize in yourself or your team?

Why I Coach The Way I Do (And What It’s Like To Work Together)

One of the questions people usually ask at our intro call is what my coaching process looks like.
Is it structured? Free-flowing? Do we follow a framework? Do we just “see where things go”?

My answer: it’s both highly organized and completely client-led.

The reason I coach this way is personal.
I started my professional life as a scientist - asking precise questions, organizing logical processes, and tracking cause and effect.
I also volunteered for a decade as a peer counselor - attuning, listening, and creating conditions where people can see themselves with more clarity and self-compassion.

Both sides deeply reflect my personality. And this is also how I prefer to be coached myself: not pushed through a formula, not floating without direction.
Held by structure, guided by my own unfolding.

That’s the approach I bring to my clients.

How does it look in practice?

We meet for an intro call. You’re self-aware and know that something in your leadership or communication isn’t quite working. We explore what’s happening, what you’ve tried, and what coaching could make possible. We clarify what success will feel like. You decide to begin.

Session 1 is a deep intake. I learn how you think, make decisions, build relationships, react under pressure, and interpret the world. I’m listening for your strengths, values, patterns, and what parts of yourself you might not have fully revealed. You're leading the conversation, I’m mapping the territory with you.

After that, I create a draft coaching program - clear purpose, meaningful outcomes, and a developmental arc that fits who you are and where you want to go.
We refine it together. You name what resonates. We adjust the language. Then the deep work begins.

Each session builds on the last.
We stay anchored to the purpose and outcomes you’ve chosen.
We add self-reflections and small, repeatable exercises that build capability over time.
We explore real-life moments and prioritize what matters most.

Throughout the process, you are leading.
Your insights give direction.
Your lived experience guides pacing.
My role is to bring structure, clarity, precision, and attunement so your development stays grounded and on track for real outcomes.

It’s that balance that makes the work powerful.

There is a science to coaching well: nervous system awareness, pattern recognition, developmental sequencing, practices that build capacity.
And an art: presence, pacing, intuition and attuning to the human being in the moment.

I coach where those two meet - science and art.

Clients feel supported without feeling directed.
Challenged without feeling overwhelmed.
They make real changes - by connecting to something new inside themselves.

If you’re curious about coaching that is both structured and deeply human, this is the work I offer you. Contact me to schedule an introduction call.

When You Avoid Difficult Conversations, You Pay The Price Later

“Difficult conversation” covers a wide spectrum of moments where something important needs attention, and sometimes repair:

• A disagreement that lingers,

• A reactive moment we pretend didn’t happen,

• Being on the receiving end of a blow-up,

• A slow-building tension that resurfaces,

• Or a conflict so big it feels like a betrayal.

Different scenarios, same truth: Something in the relationship has been damaged - slightly or significantly - and repair is required.

Avoidance is comfortable, often for understandable reasons. We tell ourselves:

• “It’s just work.”

• “They’ll get over it.”

• “That person doesn’t matter.”

• “It’s not worth it.”

• “I’ll just let it go.”

These thoughts create the illusion that avoidance is easier.

I get it. Like most people, I don’t like conflict.

But in my late twenties, I had a big aha moment: I realized I’d created unnecessary problems with several people through poor communication. I didn’t know better, so I didn’t take accountability. I can extend grace to my younger self for that.

Years later, when I understood the impact, I repaired what was possible.

• I apologized to the coworker I’d alienated with my venting.

• I apologized to the family member I’d shut out.

• I contacted a couple of others I could have met with more calm.

Those conversations were uncomfortable and vulnerable. But they taught me that avoidance multiplies harm, and accountability restores alignment. Some people forgave me - others probably still don’t like me, and that’s ok. What matters is that accountability happened.

Now, incidents like that are far less frequent and intense. When they do happen, I address them quickly. That practice has made my communication cleaner, my relationships healthier, and my leadership stronger.

Addressing a difficult moment takes courage and presence. It’s not easy to confront your own reactivity or engage someone who might be defensive or hurt. It’s not easy to be wrong, and say it. But that’s exactly what credible leadership requires.

Avoidance, on the other hand, creates a debt, and the interest compounds.

You pay the price later when:

• A small conflict escalates,

• You think, “I should have said something,”

• Embarrassment sets in,

• Your credibility erodes,

• Or team dynamics are affected by the issue.

Avoidance doesn’t erase the problem, it amplifies it. What could have been a brief conversation becomes a charged one. What could have been a small repair becomes a wide rift.

You don’t need the perfect script. Just one grounded opening: “Something happened between us that I’d like to revisit.”

The sooner you start, the lower the price you pay, and the more you strengthen your credibility, relationships, and integrity.

If there’s a difficult conversation sitting on your desk (or in your heart), ask yourself:

What will it cost me if I keep waiting?

And what might become possible if I address it today?

You Thought You Were A Great Communicator Until…

• Your intent to maintain high standards and push everyone to do their best was perceived as rigid and critical - people heard judgment instead of encouragement.

• Your genuine desire to support and make yourself useful came across as intrusive or manipulative - others felt incompetent instead of empowered.

• Your focus on speed and achievement created an atmosphere of urgency - others experienced pressure and fatigue, as if productivity mattered more than their well-being.

• Your effort to express authenticity and emotional depth felt self-absorbed - others experienced it as overwhelming instead of connecting.

• Your calm, logical explanations created distance - people felt you valued your ideas and knowledge more than their humanity.

• Your careful questioning to ensure safety and preparedness was misread as skepticism - others sensed you were doubting them instead of guiding them.

• Your many ideas and optimistic reframing created excitement but also confusion - others felt you were jumping ahead and skipping over what mattered to them.

• Your directness and bold approach landed as intimidating - others felt challenged instead of invited into honest dialogue.

• Your efforts to keep harmony and avoid tension silenced important truths - people mistook your chill style for disengagement or lack of conviction.

Recognize yourself in some of these statements? Each of these fit an Enneagram Type, but we can certainly use several of these habits. The Enneagram helped me see the specific way that I unintentionally disrupted communication even though I had very good intentions.

Communication isn’t just about clarity, it’s about respect and connection, even in the workplace.

Real progress in communication begins when we can notice our patterns and their impact on others, pause, and choose presence and connection over reactivity and habit.

Would you like to discover your Enneagram Type? Contact me and let's explore this together!

Communication As Value Creation

Every conversation in the workplace is either an act of value creation or an act of value destruction, also known as waste.

As Mickey Connolly and Richard Rianoshek write in “The Communication Catalyst”, communication is the operating system for how value moves through an organization. This isn’t a soft skill!

When we invest in our communication - listening with presence and curiosity, speaking with attunement and clarity - we create trust, alignment, and value.
But when assumptions, fear, or overwhelm drive our behavior, we inadvertently create misunderstandings, defensiveness, and disengagement; all of which are wasteful.

Much of that will lead to either value or waste begins with perception.
Our brain is a prediction machine. The moment we sense a threat - a raised eyebrow, a sharp tone, a critical question - our nervous system shifts into fight, flight, or freeze.

We stop listening for understanding and start listening for protection.
In that state, we hear through filters:
* We defend instead of inquire.
* We confirm what we already believe.
* We miss what the other person actually needs or values.

This is where communication breaks down - not because people lack skill, but because they’ve lost presence.

When we bring awareness back online - pausing, grounding, and listening beyond words - and remove our perception filters, communication becomes a method of value creation again.

We can align on purpose, address real concerns, and design actions that matter and work for everyone’s shared goals.

So the useful question to ask for any leader isn’t “Did I get my message across?”
It’s “Did this conversation add value?”

As I reflect on this, I see how difficult that shift continues to be for me - not because it’s a complex concept to understand, but because of how easily my personality and habits take over.

That’s why daily centering practices matter so much: they deepen our self-awareness and our ability to pause and choose responses instead of reacting automatically.

Imagine if every team meeting or 1-1 check-in started with that shared intention - to create value, not waste.