Chapter 4 - The Self-Care Reset: Fueling Your Personal and Professional Growth

Bridging the Journey

In the previous chapter, "When I Weep," we explored the invitation to emotional vitality—embracing our full emotional landscape rather than compartmentalizing or suppressing it. This emotional awareness forms the cornerstone of authentic leadership. Now, we transition to another critical dimension of reflective leadership: the essential practice of self-care.

My story from twenty years ago is that I found myself in what I now call my "full-throttle season." I was juggling demanding work responsibilities, family commitments, and the rigorous demands of continuing education. From the outside, it appeared I was managing it all with remarkable efficiency. My calendar was organized, my productivity was high, I was meeting every deadline, and my business was profitable. By every standard, I was a success. Yet beneath this carefully constructed facade of competence, my inner landscape was eroding.

I was focusing far too much on externals, guarding against my inner thoughts, fearful I might not like the answers to deeper questions such as: Why am I running so hard? What's driving me? What's keeping me from stopping? During those seasons of running hard, I had clarity on questions that scared me to death to answer. Yet no doubt I felt them in my gut, churning in my stomach, wanting some expression, answers, or conversation.

It became increasingly clear that I needed new rhythms for my soul and self-care practices to keep me grounded. This chapter explores that journey—a journey many leaders will recognize—and offers a framework for your self-care reset. Acknowledging this need was a relief, a sign that change was possible and that a better, more sustainable way of leading was within reach.

The Paradox of High-Performance Seasons

High-commitment, high-pressure seasons are paradoxical in nature. There's often tremendous good happening—achievement, impact, growth, recognition. There lies the challenge. The external markers of success can mask the internal warning signs of depletion. We rationalize our exhaustion as the necessary cost of meaningful work and significant impact.

The language of "When I Weep" gives us permission to be transparent—open, teachable, and agile for what's good but also receptive to a better way. This transparency extends to acknowledging a fundamental truth: thriving may not always be found while striving.

Throughout reflective leadership, I'll touch on times of fatigue, exhaustion, and even burnout. It's a common language for leaders, and it's also been part of my journey. More often than not, the greatest threat to your leadership, life, and well-being comes when you're thin from running too hard. These threats manifest as distraction, depletion, and discouragement. They're subtle and subjective, but they emerge at a cost.

Practically speaking, consider the quality of your thought process and decisions from Friday at 3:30 p.m. to Monday morning. A good night's rest and the requisite time for critical decisions can save lives, let alone thousands of dollars. The need for a self-care reset is significant. In my story, poor, tired, reactive decisions have cost hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Missing The Warning Signs

Looking back, the warning signs were evident, though I was adept at ignoring them. My sleep quality had deteriorated. I was subsisting on caffeine and convenience foods. Exercise had become a luxury I couldn't afford. Most concerning, my reflective practices—the quiet moments of journaling, meditation, and prayer that had previously anchored my days—had been squeezed out by urgent demands. I wore my exhaustion as a badge of honor, proving my resiliency. I had succumbed to the perception that prioritizing my well-being was somehow a bit selfish or indulgent. This mindset is deeply embedded and encouraged within our family, workplace, and church-community cultures. We glorify the leader who arrives first and leaves last, answers emails at midnight, and sacrifices vacation time for the sake of the mission. We mistake presence for productivity and busyness for effectiveness. As my pastor, Brady Boyd, wrote in his book a few years ago, we're addicted to busy. Recognizing these warning signs was empowering, a sign that I was in control and could take proactive steps to change.

The Questions That Churned Within

During this full-throttle season, specific questions surfaced in quiet moments—usually in the liminal space between wakefulness and sleep, when my defenses were down. Mike Foster identified these as the Seven Primal Questions, a simple framework that gives scope to reflection:

• Am I safe?

• Am I secure?

• Am I loved?

• Am I wanted?

• Am I successful?

• Am I good enough?

• Do I have a purpose?

These questions weren't intellectual exercises but visceral, emotional inquiries bubbling up from my core. They demanded answers and honest engagement with my deepest values, fears, and longings.

The question of "Am I successful?" was particularly charged for me. I had constructed an identity around achievement and recognition. My worth had become entangled with external markers of success. This created a treadmill effect—each accomplishment brought momentary satisfaction, quickly replaced by the pressure to achieve, do, and be more.

Meanwhile, "Am I good enough?" lurked beneath the surface, driving my relentless pace. If I worked harder, delivered more, and sacrificed further, I could finally silence the inner critic questioning my worth.

The Turning Point

My turning point didn't come in a dramatic breakdown (though many leaders experience this). Instead, it emerged through a series of small wake-up calls. A trusted mentor pointed out that my creative thinking had become reactive rather than generative. My spouse gently noted that while physically present, I seemed emotionally distant. A medical checkup revealed elevated stress markers. These signals converged, creating a moment of clarity. I realized that my current approach wasn't sustainable, and more importantly, it wasn't leading to the impact I truly desired. This was a pivotal moment in my journey, and it might help you identify similar moments in your own life.

These signals converged, creating a moment of clarity. I realized that my current approach wasn't sustainable, and more importantly, it wasn't leading to the impact I truly desired. I was efficient but not effective, busy but not fulfilled, present but not engaged.

This realization led to what I now call a "self-care reset"—not a temporary retreat, but a fundamental recalibration of my relationship with work, rest, and well-being.

The Self-Care Reset Framework

Similar to the invitation to emotional vitality, the self-care reset is invitational. It's a "get-to," not necessarily a "have-to." It's more prescriptive than descriptive. It's preventive for bad decisions and burnout.

The framework involves five interconnected dimensions:

1. Physical Restoration

This begins with the basics—adequate sleep, proper nutrition, and regular movement. These aren't luxuries but the foundation of cognitive function, emotional regulation, and decision-making capacity.

My reset involved committing to seven hours of sleep nightly, replacing convenience foods with nutrient-dense alternatives, and scheduling non-negotiable time for physical activity such as walking as restorative.

2. Emotional Awareness

Building on the insights from "When I Weep," this dimension involves creating space to acknowledge, process, and express emotions rather than suppressing or compartmentalizing them.

For me, this meant resuming my journaling practice, engaging with a therapist, and creating boundaries around emotional labor. I recognized that constantly absorbing others' emotional needs without replenishment depleted my empathy and connection capacity.

3. Mental Clarity

Information overload, constant connectivity, and decision fatigue can cloud our thinking and impair judgment. Mental clarity requires intentional practices that filter inputs and create space for deep thinking.

My reset included technology boundaries (no devices during meals or the first/last hour of the day), dedicated time for deep work without interruptions, and regular digital sabbaticals. These practices created the cognitive space needed for creative problem-solving and strategic thinking.

4. Relational Investment

Meaningful connections are not optional; they're essential for leadership resilience. Yet high-pressure seasons often lead us to neglect the relationships that could sustain us.

My reset involved identifying my core relationships—those that energized rather than depleted me—and prioritizing regular, quality engagement. This meant saying no to networking events that added little value and yes to deeper conversations with trusted colleagues and friends.

5. Spiritual Grounding

Spiritual practices provide context, meaning, and perspective. They connect daily challenges to larger purposes and transcendent values.

My reset reestablished consistent meditation, prayer, and contemplative reading. These practices weren't additions to an already packed schedule but foundational elements that informed how I approached everything else.

The Return on Investment

The self-care reset isn't about indulgence—it's about effectiveness. The return on investment becomes evident in multiple dimensions:

• Decision quality improves significantly when we're rested, nourished, and centered.

• Creative capacity expands when we create space for reflection and restoration.

• Relational intelligence deepens when we're emotionally regulated and fully present.

• Resilience strengthens as we develop sustainable rhythms rather than sprinting until exhaustion.

Perhaps most significantly, a self-care reset reconnects us with our core values and purposes. It creates the conditions for asking not just "What am I doing?" but "Why am I doing it?" and "Who am I becoming in the process?"

The Ongoing Practice

A self-care reset isn't a one-time event but an ongoing practice of attunement and adjustment. It requires regular reflection on Foster's primal questions, using them as gauges for well-being and alignment.

When I feel anxiety rising (Am I safe?), it signals the need for practices that create psychological safety and boundary reinforcement.

When financial concerns dominate my thinking (Am I secure?), it prompts a review of my relationship with resources and sufficiency.

When I feel disconnected or isolated (Am I loved? Am I wanted?), investing in key relationships and community engagement is time.

When achievement becomes all-consuming ("Am I successful?" "Am I good enough?"), I need to reconnect with my intrinsic worth beyond performance.

When meaninglessness creeps in (Do I have a purpose?), it's an invitation to realign daily activities with core values and vision.

These questions give language that guides SoulWork further and informs the self-care practices that need the most attention during particular seasons. They create a feedback loop that prevents the accumulation of stress and depletion, leading to burnout.

A New Understanding of Leadership Power

Through this reset process, I've understood that true leadership power stems not from relentless activity but from grounded presence. The rested, centered, and aligned leader brings a qualitatively different energy to challenges than the depleted, reactive, and fragmented leader.

This understanding challenges the prevailing notion that self-care and high performance are opposing values. They're complementary. The capacity to lead effectively over the long term—to make wise decisions, inspire others, navigate complexity, and facilitate transformation—depends on sustainable self-care practices.

The paradox is that slowing down often allows us to advance more effectively. Pausing creates the conditions for clarity, and rest enables more impactful action. Self-care isn't separate from leadership effectiveness—it's integral to it.

The Bridge to Self-Leadership

I remember my full-throttle season as a life-defining moment. The awakening that occurred during that time fundamentally shifted how I understood the relationship between caring for myself and leading others. Yet the truth is, I've had many similar seasons since then. Each has presented its version of the same fundamental challenge: remaining present, grounded, and practical amidst increasing demands and responsibilities.

Through these recurring cycles, I've learned that self-care isn't a destination but a path. It's not about achieving perfect balance—an elusive concept at best—but about developing the awareness and agility to recognize when I'm moving toward depletion and the courage to adjust course before reaching critical levels.

I hope I've progressed toward more intentional SoulWork and self-care practices over the years. This progress serves dual purposes: my welfare, certainly, but equally important, cultivating greater inner capacity—grace—to serve others well. I've come to see that the quality of my presence with others is directly proportional to the quality of my presence with myself. The compassion I extend to my limitations becomes the compassion I can authentically offer to others in their struggles.

We now approach this threshold as we move toward Chapter 5, "Grit & Grace." The self-care practices we've explored aren't merely about personal restoration—though that alone would justify their value. They're the foundation upon which we build the capacity for genuine self-leadership. They create the inner resources that allow us to navigate the inevitable tensions of leadership: to hold boundaries with kindness, pursue excellence without perfectionism, honor both achievement and renewal and blend determination with flexibility.

The journey from self-care to self-leadership requires grit—the resilience to establish and maintain healthy practices even when challenges arise—and grace—the compassion to honor our humanity and limitations. In the next chapter, we'll explore how these twin qualities enable us to lead ourselves with wisdom and authenticity, creating the foundation from which we can effectively lead others.

Reflection Questions

1. Reflect on your current "full-throttle season." Which of Mike Foster's Seven Primal Questions resonates most deeply with you right now, and what might that reveal about the self-care practice that needs your immediate attention?

2. Consider the quality of your decisions and interactions at your most depleted (perhaps Friday afternoon) versus your most restored (perhaps after a restful weekend). What patterns do you notice, and what does this suggest about the relationship between your self-care and leadership effectiveness?

3. What is one small, sustainable self-care practice you could implement tomorrow to address your most pressing depletion area? How might you design this practice to be resilient against the inevitable pressures and demands that will compete for this time?

Chapter 1 Self-Care (SoulWork): Refilling Your Empty Cup

There exists a profound interplay between the words "soul" and "self" when paired with "care" - one carrying the weight of our deepest essence, the other a more contemporary nod to personal maintenance. Soul care implies tending to the philosophical or spiritual dimensions that reflect the most central core of our being - that intangible essence that defines our purpose, meaning, and connection to something greater than ourselves. Self-care, its more popularized cousin, has been embraced by wellness culture as practical actions we take to maintain physical and mental equilibrium. The beauty lies not in choosing between them but in recognizing their harmonious dance - the inward journey of soul reflection complementing the outward practices of self-preservation. This intertwining creates what I've come to call "SoulWork" - a holistic approach to nurturing our complete selves.

Twenty years ago, before wellness retreats and mental health days became workplace staples, I encountered these concepts in the hallowed halls of Denver Seminary. "self-care" and "wellbeing" had yet to permeate corporate handbooks and HR initiatives. Yet I was, a master's student initially focused on leadership studies, unexpectedly drawn into the transformative world of spiritual formation. This encounter wasn't merely academic - it became the life raft I didn't know I desperately needed.

The Empty Cup Syndrome

"Russell, you can't give out of an empty cup." The wisdom of my mentor's words still echoes within me today. Another mentor reinforced this truth: "You can't impart what you don't possess." Then there's the familiar airline safety instruction that initially seems counterintuitive - secure your oxygen mask before assisting others. At 35,000 feet, those precious seconds mean the difference between consciousness and blackout.

These principles converge into one universal truth: authentic giving, leading, and serving require a wellspring of internal resources. When we deplete ourselves without replenishment, we offer diluted versions of our capabilities and, eventually, nothing. The tragedy lies in our exhaustion and what the world loses when our unique gifts become muted or extinguished.

During my seminary years, I embodied the archetype of the empty cup. I was raising a young family while running a nationwide business with employees and projects. Every other week, I was on a plane to a different city. We were building a new house at home, beginning homeschooling with our children and managing a calendar overflowing with activities. My life moved at a relentless 100 miles per hour, leaving no margin for pause, reflection, or restoration.

Where does one find time to coast when running at such speed? How does one create space for thought, reflection, journaling, or prayer? These questions weighed heavily, though I lacked the language to articulate them fully.

The Transformative Power of Community

What truly transformed my life wasn't a book or a seminar, but an invitation into a community - a community focused on spiritual formation. This wasn't just a class, but a structured space for reflection, contemplative thought, listening prayer, and practices that allowed me to pause within the gift of silence and solitude. It was a beacon of hope in a world that often feels overwhelming.

I remember starkly recognizing that no book alone could have guided me to the transformation I experienced in that community under the guidance of a spiritual director. That season created more than practices—it formed categories and language for what I felt but couldn't express. It revealed paths off the treadmill of busyness toward that elusive quiet place at a soul level.

This community taught me that SoulWork isn't a solitary endeavor. We need guides, fellow travelers, and wisdom beyond our experience to illuminate the journey. The paradox became clear: to truly discover our innermost selves, we sometimes need others to hold space for that discovery.

Understanding SoulWork as Holistic Practice

SoulWork is a practice that holds the tension between soul-care and self-care, creating something more significant than either alone. It recognizes humans as multidimensional beings with interconnected physical, emotional, spiritual, and intellectual needs. When we compartmentalize these aspects, we fragment our experience and limit our potential for wholeness. This understanding can bring a new level of awareness and enlightenment to our lives.

Consider how a neglected physical body impacts spiritual clarity or how emotional turbulence clouds intellectual discernment. These dimensions don't operate in isolation but form an integrated wellbeing ecosystem.

In practical terms, SoulWork might look like:

• Physical practices that honor the body as a vessel for more profound work

• Emotional exploration that acknowledges feelings as messengers rather than distractions

• Intellectual engagement that connects knowledge with meaning

• Spiritual disciplines that create space for transcendence and connection

• Relational investments that recognize our interdependence with others

The beauty of SoulWork lies in its dynamism. It evolves with our worldviews, values, beliefs, and life seasons. What fills your cup in a season of building and expansion might differ from what nourishes you in a time of consolidation or transition. This understanding can empower you to take control of your wellbeing and adapt your practices to your current life circumstances.

The Chronic Fatigue of Modern Life

Before terms like "burnout" entered the everyday conversation, I battled many symptoms of inadequate self-care. My spiritual formation journey helped identify themes and patterns underlying my beliefs, motivations, and drives for success—patterns frequently left me with chronic fatigue and occasional burnout.

Our modern context often celebrates depletion as dedication. We wear exhaustion as a badge of honor, conflating busyness with importance and productivity with worth. Technology has blurred the boundaries between work and rest, creating expectations of perpetual availability. Social media presents curated versions of others' lives that trigger comparison and inadequacy. Economic pressures demand more output with fewer resources.

Within this context, emptiness becomes normalized. We function in deficit states, barely noticing our depletion until crisis forces acknowledgment. The quiet voice within that whispers "enough" gets drowned by notifications, deadlines, and obligations.

SoulWork begins with the recognition of unsustainable patterns in our modern lives. It starts with the courage to question cultural assumptions about productivity and success. It requires honesty about our limitations and humility about our needs.

Diverse Expressions of SoulWork

As I've worked with leaders globally—from India to Argentina, Korea to London, Austria to Saudi Arabia—I've observed how SoulWork manifests differently across cultures and traditions. The expressions vary, but the underlying human need remains constant.

Broadly speaking, SoulWork refers to the intentional and ongoing practice of nurturing one's inner life, including thoughts, emotions, beliefs, and values. It acknowledges the profound significance of the soul's connection to overall wellbeing.

For some, this involves traditional spiritual practices:

• Meditative prayer connecting to divine presence

• Scripture study for wisdom and guidance

• Community worship for shared devotion and support

• Fasting for clarity and renewed perspective

• Pilgrimage to sacred places that evoke wonder

For others, it takes secular but equally meaningful forms:

• Philosophical reflection on purpose and meaning

• Mindfulness practices that cultivate the presence

• Creative expression that accesses deeper awareness

• Time in nature that evokes awe and perspective

• Ethical examination that aligns actions with values

The common thread isn't the specific practice but the intentional cultivation of inner awareness and alignment with one's deepest values and truths.

Finding Your Rhythm in Different Seasons

Given various life seasons, there comes a time to press toward the finish line and lean into the commitments that accompany particular phases. Not every moment allows for an extended retreat or contemplation. The parent of young children, the entrepreneur launching a business, the caregiver to aging parents—all face seasons where margin seems impossible.

Yet even within these demanding periods, there is the possibility of finding space—perhaps not extensive, but sufficient—to gain perspective on priorities and establish sustainable rhythms for work and life.

SoulWork isn't always grand or dramatic. Sometimes, it's the small sacred pause before responding to an email, the deep breath before entering a meeting, or the moment of gratitude while washing dishes. These micro-practices sustain us when more extended practices prove impractical.

I've found my SoulWork in the grandeur of adventuring in the Colorado mountains, walking beach shores with my wife, celebrating with family, conversing with trusted friends, taking truck rides for ice cream on summer evenings, and sitting in my rocking chair with Bible and journal, watching the sunrise with coffee in hand.

These aren't extravagant or complex practices but fill my empty cup with precisely what my soul needs in different seasons.

The Practical Pathway to Beginning SoulWork

For those resonating with the concept but unsure where to begin, consider these starting points:

1. Honest Assessment: Where are you depleted? Physical exhaustion? Emotional numbness? Spiritual disconnection? Intellectual stagnation? Identifying specific areas of emptiness creates clarity about what needs filling.

2. Permission: Grant yourself explicit permission to prioritize SoulWork. This isn't selfish but necessary stewardship of your most precious resource—yourself.

3. Start Small: Begin with five minutes of intentional practice daily rather than attempting hour-long sessions that prove unsustainable. Consistency matters more than duration.

4. Find Guidance: Seek mentors, spiritual directors, therapists, or trusted friends who can accompany your journey. Their outside perspective often illuminates blind spots we cannot see.

5. Create Structure: Establish regular rhythms that support SoulWork. This might mean morning meditation, evening reflection, weekly sabbath, monthly retreat, or annual pilgrimage.

6. Practice Presence: Cultivate awareness in ordinary moments. The drive to work, the walk to the mailbox, the wait in line—all become opportunities for mindfulness rather than distraction.

7. Embrace Silence: Create pockets of quiet in a noisy world. Turn off notifications, step away from screens, and allow your mind the space to settle and integrate.

8. Document the Journey: Keep a journal of insights, questions, and observations. This creates a tangible record of growth and provides material for ongoing reflection.

The Organizational Imperative

While SoulWork begins as a personal practice, its implications extend beyond individual wellbeing. Organizations increasingly recognize that depleted people cannot sustain excellence or innovation. Companies investing in employee wellbeing aren't merely altruistic—they're making strategic decisions about sustainability and performance.

Leaders who model SoulWork create permission structures that ripple throughout their organizations. When a manager visibly prioritizes renewal and reflection, it signals that such practices are valued rather than penalized. This cultural shift doesn't happen through policy alone but through lived examples.

The most compelling leaders I've encountered globally share this common trait: they've developed practices that sustain their inner resources, allowing them to lead from abundance rather than scarcity. Their influence stems from position or expertise and the integrated authenticity that SoulWork cultivates.

The Continuous Journey

SoulWork isn't a destination but a continuous journey of discovery and renewal. It evolves as we grow, adapts as circumstances change, and deepens as our capacity expands. What filled your cup a decade ago might differ from what nourishes you today.

This journey invites a perpetual beginner's mind—an openness to new insights, practices, and understandings. It welcomes questions rather than demanding certainty. It values exploration over arrival.

Twenty years after my seminary experience created categories for understanding SoulWork, I continue discovering new dimensions of this practice. Each life season brings fresh challenges requiring adapted approaches. The fundamentals remain constant—the need for filling before pouring out—but the specific methods continue evolving.

Conclusion: Beyond Survival to Thriving

SoulWork represents more than a survival strategy; it offers a pathway to thriving in a world that often demands more than we can sustainably give. It acknowledges our fundamental need for renewal and provides practical approaches to meeting that need.

The invitation stands before us: Will we continue operating from depletion or commit to practices that replenish our deepest resources? Will we perpetuate cultures of exhaustion, or will we model sustainable rhythms that allow for both productivity and presence?

Taking that next step—creating space for oxygen, refilling your cup, and reflecting on what helps you thrive rather than merely survive—might be the most important decision you make today. In a world desperate for authentic leadership, compassionate service, and meaningful connection, your filled cup becomes not just personal sustenance but a gift to everyone you encounter.

SoulWork isn't selfish indulgence but strategic stewardship of your most precious resource—the unique combination of gifts, perspectives, and presence that only you can offer the world. When you fill your cup through intentional SoulWork, you don't just serve yourself; you serve your highest purpose and the greater good that awaits your fully resourced contribution.

Reflection Questions

1. Identify Your Empty Cup Signs: What specific indicators—physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual—tell you that your cup is depleting? How might recognizing these signs earlier change your approach to SoulWork?

2. Examine Your Current Rhythms: Which current practices in your life fill your cup, and which ones consistently drain it? Where could you create even small spaces for restoration within your existing schedule?

3. Envision Your Ideal SoulWork: What would your ideal SoulWork practice look like if all external constraints were removed? From that vision, what is one element you could realistically incorporate into your life this week?

Chapter 2 - The Integrated Life - Human Being Before Doing

Living an Integrated Life

Running so hard, measuring your life by measurable return runs the risk of focusing all your energy, thoughts, and affections on a few goals, objectives, and achievements that may not truly matter. To borrow a familiar line from the teachings of Jesus, "What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his soul?" (Mark 8:36), emphasizes that worldly achievements are meaningless if they come at the cost of well-being, love, and your life.

Setting aside our beliefs, values, and priorities for secondary pursuits can lead to a disintegrated life. Being separated, falling away, or fractured from the whole. Integration is about integrity. To be sound, holistic, healthy, and right standing integrates the complexities of our lives as a whole. Integration of what we're doing, in the context of why it's significant, with a perspective of who we're becoming expressed through how we live our lives day-to-day. It's a dance of knowing, being, and doing that often finds missteps affecting the rhythms of a life at peace.

There are moments in life or in the lives of others that stand out: living fully, facing challenges, experiencing daily joys and then upsets, stretching from assignments yet somehow maintaining a profound peace and wisdom of inner stillness. This is the strength, the calm in the storm, and the grace that comes from intentional living.

I'm pursuing what I call the integrated life—a framework that serves as more than just a philosophy. It's a practical guide for my decisions, a compass that directs me toward greater harmony between my faith, values, relationships, and commitments. This approach provides decision-making criteria that inform my priorities and values, serving as a reliable guide through life's complexities. We will have choices regarding where to invest our time and resources, which may or may not yield the return or results that truly matter.

The integrated life is about making decisions that move me closer to the core of who I am. It creates opportunities to weave more faith into my daily existence—faith is one of my primary values. It enables me to make choices that incorporate more of my family, friendships, and meaningful relationships into the fabric of my life. This approach isn't about saying yes to everything. Rather, it's about examining opportunities through the grid of my deepest values versus pursuing things that may be good but not necessarily the best for me. These considerations run soul-deep under what I call the chapter of "soul work." I'm trying to craft a message reflecting how we care for and nurture our souls, reaching a place where we can truthfully say, "It is well with my soul," regardless of whatever season or circumstance we're facing.

The Reality of Soul Challenges

Recently, I shared a conversation with a friend experiencing significant loss. Some have invested years and hundreds of thousands of dollars into businesses that will likely fail—fail according to profitability and sustainability measures. They grapple with questions about how long to persist, when to pivot, and when to give up on something that simply isn't working.

Yet there's a profound grief and heartache that comes after investing five years into something only to feel suddenly labeled with shame and failure. This leads to complex emotions around shame, regret, and heartache. It's a genuine grief that requires acknowledgment.

Another construction leader I spoke with this week, in his sixties, is dealing with aging issues around parents, brothers, and sisters-in-law. He's providing end-of-life care or support for those with dementia. He's also facing the practical challenge of family members who haven't planned well financially, creating increased responsibility for those serving as caregivers.

These situations create burdens that leave you feeling empty and poured out. These are realities where your soul becomes dried up, wearied, and weathered. But we must also identify the elements that nurture the soul.

Soul Work Fundamentals

This is the soul work we must recognize—establishing daily practices as essential as breathing, resting, and eating well. These practices could include meditation, journaling, or engaging in hobbies that bring joy. Being around loved ones provides those base practices that allow us to be human beings before we're human beings. These fundamentals will enable us to connect with people during their most challenging times and be compassionate and empathetic.

How we care for our own souls creates a grid, criteria, and capacity to care for others in their time of need. We might call this "having a heart." What do we do to care for our hearts? How do we tend to the most profound and core aspects of who we are, ensuring we're not neglecting what matters most?

This brings us to the language of self-care—those practices that allow us to nurture what's most important in our lives. Yet these self-care practices are often basic things neglected because of daily demands, the tyranny of the urgent in our work life, or external circumstances beyond our control. It's crucial to remember that caring for ourselves is not a luxury, but a necessity.

Consider a young mother caring for a little one. She often feels stretched because she's caring so much for others that she lacks time to care for herself. There's always tension in the discussion about what self-care looks like. What does tending to your soul—this soul work—look like to be sufficient?

Beyond What We Do

We must acknowledge that the core aspects of who we are need tending. This premise challenges popularized thinking that focuses merely on what we're doing, how we're doing it, or even why we're doing it. Understanding purpose and significance—why something matters—is certainly an important variable for prioritizing our energy.

But often, all that consideration allows us the expense of who we are and, perhaps more importantly, who we're becoming. When we talk about soul work, we think about the types of people we're becoming.

Later we'll discuss self-leadership from a developmental standpoint. Self-leadership is the ability to guide and motivate oneself to achieve personal goals. It's about who we're becoming that allows us to grow in competency. But this chapter addresses the character of who we are. When we nurture our souls, we're nurturing our character, recognizing that these characteristics represent the most significant qualities about us.

In a sobering sense, we're often compromised in ways we do not realize. We've said yes to things we perhaps later recognize we never should have in the first place. We feel stretched thin to where we lack time to care for what matters most. We may have gone against our conscience, sense of standard, or personal ethics.

Level-Setting for Your Soul

This is level-setting—not just for organizational leadership, strategy, or teamwork, but for your own soul. We must reflect on those non-negotiables that once allowed us to be at our best. From a coaching standpoint, we often ask: What's the highest and best use of your time? What will enable you to reach your full potential, becoming the best version of yourself?

Reflective speculation gives us time to pause and consider identifying what we were doing at our best and what characteristics and qualities were revealed about us. This is an invitation, more than a mandate, to take time for pause and reflection.

What are the self-care practices that create space for your soul? This allows you to return to being a human being rather than just a human doing. We spend most of our time at work and in other activities, but how much time over a day, week, month, or year do we devote to tending our souls?

When we do this well, it gives us greater capacity to connect with others. When we examine our reflective model of five spheres of leadership influence, we find that the most significant issues within leadership and organizations are, most of the time, people problems.

The Value Proposition of Soul Care

The premise here is that as we invest not just in hard skills but in actual soft skills, we create a value proposition: as we improve our ability to work with people, we see a difference in resolving problems more quickly, motivating people to higher levels of engagement and productivity, improving retention, and lowering turnover.

In some ways, the softest skills—tending to your soul through self—care practices—may be the most significant investment of your time in seeing the impact of your leadership.

This is an opportunity to return to those core things that make you who you are. Some of your self-care proves identifying a long-forgotten hobby that needs raking. What are those things you love to do—not have to do, but pause and reflect to find joy in the activity itself?

Practical Self-Care

What are the self-care practices, even the baseline of identifying how much sleep you're getting, the foods you're eating, and the friendships you're nurturing? Who are the people that, after spending time with them, make you feel better? Or enjoying a good meal that nourishes not just your body but your sense of well-being, rather than consuming foods that harm your physical health.

Consider the benefits of getting out for a walk, incorporating a little exercise, and stealing away 10, 15, or 30 minutes a day to move around. Enjoy not just the activity itself or physically "getting your steps in," but notice the world around you—the clouds in the sky, the sun on your face, the benefits of vitamin D. Take time to smell the roses or observe the seasonal changes as leaves grow on trees or fall off, or feel a snowflake land on your face.

These things we take time to notice—these little details—somehow stir nostalgia or memory that mark creativity and ultimately bring a smile to your face. Simply ask: How often do you smile throughout your day? What produces beyond just surface happiness—a sense of joy, delight, and wonder that nurtures your soul and shows in your countenance?

This doesn't necessarily require an overhaul, though some dedicated time away—whether in solitude, with family, or on a genuine vacation where you're not responsible for someone else's happiness—creates opportunity. You might identify some daily practices for reflection, prayer, quiet meditation, reading a good book, journaling daily events, or keeping a gratitude journal to give thanks.

The Power of Pause

Taking a pause in this reflective space is vitally important. A therapist friend who works with trauma survivors calls a version of this activity "emotional fitness"—identifying the highs and lows of your day. Reflect for 30 seconds or three minutes on the highs and lows, identifying the emotions you felt, from anger and frustration to joy and absolute delight.

This is an opportunity to consider what you can do to tend to your own soul so that when life happens, you absorb it more holistically rather than compartmentalizing and stuffing feelings away for another day.

Start small, building practices that give you time to reflect and pause. Perhaps set a reminder text on your phone or an alarm that prompts you to pause two or three times daily—to pray, give thanks, offer someone appreciation or encouragement, or simply smile. Something in a purely physiological sense somehow translates into caring for your soul and finding delight during your day.

Beyond Surface Understanding

This isn't meant to be an extensive deep dive into the human soul. Plenty of resources and books exist to pursue from theological, psychological, or sociological standpoints. But the integrated approach asks: What are those things that, when you take care of yourself, allow you to be more fully human, with a greater capacity for knowing and doing, to impact the world around you?

This begins with reflection, perhaps probing moments when you were happiest, filled with joy, delight, and wonder. What activities were you doing? Who were the people around you? What could you do to nurture some of those experiences or reconnect with those relationships?

Take time to plan. If there are places you want your emotions to spend time with, be proactive rather than reactive, looking forward to those activities. Or perhaps block time to create space that you protect throughout your day—30 minutes for quiet reflection in the morning, getting up 30 minutes or an hour earlier for quiet space, or blocking 15 or 30 minutes on your calendar with a "do not disturb" on your phone and your office door closed.

The Integration Point

The integrated life isn't about perfect balance—it's about intentional alignment. When we tend to our souls, we're not just improving ourselves; we're creating ripple effects through every relationship and responsibility we hold. The more we integrate our core values, the more authentic and impactful our lives become.

Integration doesn't mean everything receives equal time. Rather, it means everything receives appropriate attention according to your deepest values. Sometimes your work will demand more energy, sometimes your family, sometimes your renewal. The integrated life is fluid, responsive, and ultimately sustainable.

By prioritizing being before doing, we create a foundation from which all our actions can flow with greater purpose and meaning. We become less reactive and more intentional. We experience less internal conflict because our actions align more consistently with our values. Perhaps most importantly, we develop the capacity to help others find their integration points.

The journey toward an integrated life isn't a destination but a continual process of alignment and realignment. It requires regular reflection and adjustment. But the results—greater peace, more meaningful connections, and a deeper sense of purpose—make it one of the most worthwhile pursuits of a life well-lived.

Chapter 3- Soul Work - When I Weep

When I Weep: The Invitation to Emotional Vitality

SoulWork: The Core of Reflective Leadership

"Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy." — Psalm 126:5

Wait a second! Grown men don't cry! It's a weakness!

Yeah, brother, let me know how that stoicism is working for you when you lose a loved one, when you hold your six-pound, two-ounce baby girl looking into your eyes after birth, or when you dance with your daughter on her wedding day.

I grew up in a construction culture—surrounded by tough, unpretentious, no-BS individuals who let you know exactly where you stand. They'll make a man out of you or shame you to death until you buck up or move on. If you're not tough, then, well, you know what happens. Right or wrong, it's real.

This dynamic isn't unique to construction. Working in healthcare for a few years, I observed nursing women establishing pecking orders that reflected similar cultural norms. My buddies in the military describe the same phenomenon. An authoritarian culture elevates the smartest, fastest, most challenging, and most substantial to the top of the hill.

These cultural norms stand in direct opposition to Jesus's upside-down biblical premise: "Blessed are the meek" (Matthew 5:5). We might give a nod to this notion on Sunday morning, but Monday through Saturday, it's "blessed are the strong."

The Hidden Cost of Emotional Stoicism

When was the last time you wept?

I recently spent a week with construction field leaders up in the mountains for leadership training. Ironworkers build steel skyscrapers, union representatives run concrete operations in Chicago, superintendents manage crews of a hundred workers on railyard rehabilitation projects, and field leaders lay hundreds of miles of pipe. These men and women are builders, many of whom believe you check your feelings at the gate.

Construction sites, professional workplaces, and other work areas often operate on the premise that vulnerability equals weakness. If I'm vulnerable, then I am weak. Thus, we maintain a veneer of strength in the world where we work and, more often than not, where we live.

For parents, caregivers, and leaders, this worldview compounds: everyone depends on my strength, so how can I possibly be weak? The guard never comes down. Regardless of age, this belief fortifies a veneer around emotions that often leaks out in unhealthy ways I frame as the "5 Is":

1. Irritability leading to anger

2. Indulgence leading to addiction

3. Intensity leading to abuse

4. Invisibility leading to absence

5. Indifference leading to abandonment

Disconnection from our emotions leads to isolation from ourselves and others. Emotional constipation might seem humorous at first but proves painful over time.

The Leadership Paradox: Tough Outside, Tender Inside

Balancing the need to be tough outside yet tender inside creates genuine tension for leaders. So, where's the balance between stoicism and oversensitivity?

Nearly 30 years ago, wrestling with this tension as a young man and husband, I found insight in Stu Weber's "Tender Warrior" and later his "Four Pillars of Man," which gave language to this paradox of strength and weakness. Weber frames the roles of manhood by examining the archetypes of king, warrior, mentor, and friend. There's a call for strength and the need to acknowledge when we're tender in each realm. Everyday leadership demands both.

The most effective leaders I've known have mastered this paradox. They can make difficult decisions that impact others while maintaining access to their emotional core—the compass that guides ethical decision-making and authentic connection.

Soul-Level Impacts: When Life Scratches the Surface

Life events can scratch up against something soul-deep, shattering our emotional equilibrium. It's those hit-and-run moments when a casual comment from a friend or foe feels like an arrow to the heart. We try to compose ourselves mentally and emotionally as we peel our inner selves off the pavement. What just happened? Our cognitive function realigns as stars circle our heads.

Then, someone dares to ask, "How are you doing?" We compose ourselves quickly with an utterance: "I'm fine, I'm good." Now, we're more offset because someone probed beneath the surface of our emotions, and the dam of our tears or anger threatens to break.

In these moments, we need to take a beat, pause, breathe, take a soul-level intake, and exhale.

Blaise Pascal, the 16th-century theologian, philosopher, and physicist, observed, "The heart has its reasons that the mind does not know." Life's most significant moments hold space where words fall short in our souls.

The Five Unhealthy Responses to Emotions

What do you do with those emotions when they emerge from deep places? I've noticed five unhealthy responses:

1. The Stuffer

Those living busy lives often acknowledge, "I don't have time for that," and stuff emotions back down. Leaders who stuff emotions believe they prioritize productivity, but they're compounding emotional debt that will eventually demand repayment—often with interest.

2. The Silencer

Suppose you're one who, when experiencing emotions within yourself or witnessing them in others, doesn't provide safety or space for them to be shared. In that case, you silence them since they're deemed inappropriate or unwelcome. Silencers create environments where team members hide authentic responses, leading to superficial engagement and diminished trust.

3. The Stoic

You're a stoic if you're resolved to show self-control and restraint, waiting for reason to reveal emotion rather than risking raw feelings. Stoics often pride themselves on rationality while missing the intuitive signals that emotions provide about what truly matters.

4. The Sarcastic

Then there's the sincere moment of emotion revealed, waved off by some backhanded humor diminishing the validity of the feeling expressed. Sarcasm veneers what's most tender. When emotions surface, leaders who resort to sarcasm teach their teams that vulnerability will be met with ridicule rather than respect.

5. The Cynic

Finally, the cynic, who at best says, "Get over it," or worse, twists the tenderness of those feelings, perhaps as a cover for their jaded memory. Cynics create cultures of disillusionment where idealism and passion are systematically extinguished.

Whether a stuffer, silencer, stoic, sarcastic, or cynic, we've all had moments of each, deflecting feelings not welcome. These labels give language to tendencies where we can drift. What's the risk if our behavioral patterns interfere with how we think or treat ourselves or others? Our life becomes less than God intended: full-hearted, healed, healthy, vital.

The Leadership Cost of Emotional Avoidance

When leaders avoid emotional engagement, the costs compound across multiple dimensions:

Diminished Decision-Making

Research consistently shows that emotions are essential to sound judgment. Without emotional data, leaders make decisions disconnected from values and human impact. Antonio Damasio's work with patients who had damage to emotion-processing brain regions revealed they couldn't make even simple decisions despite intact logical reasoning.

Compromised Team Trust

Teams intuitively sense when a leader is emotionally disconnected. This creates an authenticity gap that erodes trust. As Patrick Lencioni notes in "The Five Dysfunctions of a Team," vulnerability-based trust is the foundation of effective teams.

Reduced Innovation

Creativity requires emotional engagement. When we suppress emotions, we restrict the neural pathways that connect disparate ideas. Leaders who maintain emotional walls inadvertently wall off breakthrough thinking.

Impaired Ethical Reasoning

Moral decision-making is fundamentally emotional. Empathy, compassion, and moral outrage are emotional responses that guide ethical leadership. Without these emotional anchors, ethical reasoning becomes merely technical compliance.

Personal Health Consequences

The physiological toll of emotional suppression is well-documented. From cardiovascular issues to immune system suppression, leaders who chronically avoid emotional processing pay a physical price.

The Full-Hearted Leadership Alternative

If you reflect on your life, you've experienced moments of being full-hearted, broken-hearted, half-hearted, tender-hearted, and hard-hearted. Life hits you for good or bad, easy or hard, extraordinary or ordinary, happy or sad; we get to process those unmet expectations.

Emotions are complex because you are complex. What's the invitation here? We can be wholehearted and healthy emotionally. It's the life you're invited to live. Jesus said, "I've come to give life and to the full" (John 10:10). Not through religion, rules, or holding onto regret, but through the good news of a life of love, peace, and grace—free from shame, guilt, and unforgiveness. It's found in relationships.

In the complex world where our inner thoughts and feelings integrate with the outside world of others, I propose a pathway to wholeheartedness. It's found in confession, connection, and courage.

Confession: Naming What Is Real

Wholehearted leaders practice emotional honesty, first with themselves and then with trusted others. This isn't emotional indulgence but emotional intelligence—the capacity to recognize, name, and understand our emotional responses.

Confession begins with self-awareness. What am I feeling right now? Where do I feel it in my body? What story am I telling myself about this situation? These questions invite us to move from emotional reactivity to emotional responsibility.

For teams, creating confession spaces means normalizing phrases like "I'm feeling frustrated by this situation" or "I'm concerned about the direction we're taking." When leaders model emotional naming without emotional flooding, they create psychological safety for others to do the same.

Connection: Finding Community in Vulnerability

Emotion derives from the Latin emovere—to move out. Emotions connect us to others, not isolate us in individual experiences. Wholehearted leaders create connection points where appropriate vulnerability builds rather than diminishes trust.

This doesn't mean sharing every feeling with every person. Discernment matters. But it does mean rejecting the false dichotomy between professional distance and authentic presence. The most effective leaders maintain appropriate boundaries while allowing genuine connection.

Connection happens when we recognize that our emotions—even difficult ones like fear, disappointment, or uncertainty—are universal human experiences. Acknowledging these with trusted team members or mentors transforms potential isolation into community.

Courage: The Choice to Feel Fully

Emotional vitality ultimately requires courage—the willingness to feel what is present rather than comfortable. This courage manifests in several ways:

• The courage to sit with discomfort rather than rush to solutions

• The courage to question our emotional habits and patterns

• The courage to invite feedback about our emotional impact on others

• The courage to celebrate joyfully without minimizing its significance

• The courage to grieve losses completely without artificial timelines

Courage in leadership means rejecting the false separation between "emotional" and "rational" dimensions of experience. The most courageous leaders recognize that these dimensions inform each other, creating wisdom neither could produce alone.

The Weeping Leader: Strength in Vulnerability

When I weep, it's not often enough. However, I found myself visiting my Dad's memorial site. He passed nearly 5 years ago. I can't believe it's already been that long. Sitting in the sun Friday afternoon, wondering how I even found my way to this sacred space, I finally uttered, "I miss you, Dad," and the dam broke. I wept.

In that moment of authentic grief, I connected more deeply with my father's legacy than in all the months of "staying strong" that preceded it. Those tears weren't weakness—they were the most honest expression of love's enduring power.

As leaders, our tears—whether shed or acknowledged—create space for authentic connection. They remind us and those we lead that our shared humanity lies beneath our roles and responsibilities. A leader who can weep when appropriate demonstrates vulnerability not as a weakness but as the ultimate expression of security and strength.

The invitation to emotional vitality challenges us to integrate, not segregate, our emotional lives from our leadership capacity. When we accept this invitation, we discover that our effectiveness increases rather than diminishes. We make better decisions because they're informed by both heart and mind. We build stronger teams because authentic leadership cultivates authentic followership. We sustain our leadership journey by drawing from an integrated, renewable inner resource rather than compartmentalizing and depleting ourselves.

The next time emotion rises unexpectedly in your leadership journey, consider it not an interruption but an invitation to greater wholeness, more profound wisdom, and more authentic impact. Those who sow in tears shall indeed reap with shouts of joy, not despite their tears but because of them.

Chapter 5 - Grace and Grit - Being Present

Grit & Grace - Threshold Between Self-Care & Self-Leadership

Leaders bring order out of chaos. This fundamental truth persists whether facing organizational upheaval, market disruption, or global uncertainty. Yet amidst these external storms, the most critical battleground remains within. No matter the external challenges leaders face, we must first settle the internal storms of our thoughts, emotions, and spirit to engage effectively with the world around us.

The tension between our inner and outer worlds creates a delicate balance. Where do we vest our time and energy? How do we reconcile the deep, often immeasurable demands of SoulWork with the quantifiable demands knocking insistently at our door? What's at stake in finding the right balance between grit and grace in today's activities?

In a word, presence.

As we begin this chapter, consider your ability to stay present—with a healthy perspective, your priorities, and the people in your life and work. Successful SoulWork and self-care translate to being present with your inner life so you can engage more fully with what matters most around you rather than being distracted, dismissive, or discouraging. An unreconciled inner life leaves you leading with a heavy burden, limiting your capacity for engagement, encouragement, and execution. You might wake each day with a sense of dread, struggling to muster the energy to grind through what lies before you.

By contrast, SoulWork and self-care will allow you to be present with your well-being—to assess how you're genuinely doing—thus expanding your capacity to engage with the world around you fully. The balance of grit and grace is central to leading your inner life well. It's bringing order out of chaos within. It's leading yourself well so you can focus on being on a mission, living your values, and ultimately leaving your legacy today and in the future.

The Chaos Within

We must recognize and address the chaos within ourselves before we can bring order to external chaos. This internal disorder manifests in various ways: racing thoughts that refuse to quiet, emotions that surge unexpectedly, or spiritual emptiness that leaves us feeling disconnected from our purpose.

Many leaders excel at troubleshooting organizational problems yet struggle to apply the same analytical skills to their inner landscape. We often avoid this inner work because it's challenging, messy, and difficult to measure. Unlike quarterly targets or project milestones, progress in our inner life doesn't appear on spreadsheets or dashboards.

Yet this avoidance comes at a tremendous cost. When we ignore the chaos within, it inevitably affects our external performance. We become reactive rather than responsive. We make decisions from a place of depletion rather than discernment. We lead from our wounds rather than our wisdom.

John, an emerging leader working in a new role as a manager, exemplifies this struggle. With his strong work ethic and desire for excellence, he set high standards for himself and his team. But as deadlines loomed and pressure mounted, his relentless pursuit of perfection took a toll on his mental and emotional well-being. Caught between ambition and fear of failure, John struggled to balance persevering through difficulties and showing himself the kindness he readily gave others.

Like John, many of us find ourselves trapped in this tension—knowing we need both strength to persevere and compassion to sustain ourselves, yet uncertain how to balance these apparent opposites.

Defining Grit and Grace

To navigate this tension effectively, we must first understand what we mean by grit and grace and how they interact as complementary rather than contradictory forces.

Grit is the tenacity to push through adversity—the resilience, determination, and perseverance that enables us to continue despite obstacles. As Angela Duckworth articulates in her book "Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance," talent alone is insufficient for success. What matters most is the combination of passion and perseverance—the capacity to remain committed to long-term goals and to bounce back from setbacks.

Grit manifests as the strength to say "yes" to complex tasks when everything in us wants to quit. It's the internal fortitude that gets us out of bed on challenging days, the discipline that keeps us focused when distractions abound, and the courage to face painful truths about ourselves and our organizations.

Grace, by contrast, is the ability to extend kindness and understanding to ourselves when things don't go as planned. It's the self-compassion that Brené Brown explores in "The Gifts of Imperfection," where she emphasizes embracing our imperfections and vulnerabilities as pathways to a more authentic and fulfilling life.

Grace appears as the wisdom to say "no" when we're overextended, the humility to acknowledge our limitations, and the gentleness to permit ourselves rest and recovery. It's the counterbalance to grit's driving force—not its nemesis, but its necessary partner.

The interplay between determination and self-compassion creates the resilience essential for sustained leadership and well-being. Without this balance, we risk either burning out from relentless pushing or underperforming from excessive leniency.

The Consequences of Imbalance

Understanding the consequences of imbalance is crucial. When we fail to balance grit and grace, we risk experiencing predictable consequences that affect our inner well-being and our effectiveness. It's a cautionary tale that underscores the importance of balance in avoiding burnout, strained relationships, rigidity, and underperformance.

Too Much Grit, Not Enough Grace:

Burnout becomes inevitable when we push ourselves relentlessly without allowing for rest or self-compassion. Our bodies and minds have limits that, when consistently ignored, lead to physical, emotional, and mental exhaustion. Leaders who pride themselves on "powering through" often discover too late that power has limits.

Excessive grit also strains relationships. Leaders prioritizing determination over compassion may be aggressive or insensitive, damaging connections with team members and stakeholders. The very people we need to accomplish our mission begin to withdraw their trust and engagement.

Rigidity emerges as another consequence of imbalance. A lack of grace results in inflexibility, making it difficult to adapt to changing circumstances or collaborate effectively. We become so fixated on our vision of how things "should" be that we miss creative alternatives and collaborative opportunities.

Too Much Grace, Not Enough Grit:

Underperformance results when we overemphasize grace at the expense of grit. Without the discipline to face challenges and push through difficulties, we may avoid necessary confrontations or fail to take decisive action when required. Our compassion becomes an excuse for comfort rather than a foundation for courage.

Permissiveness occurs when leaders lack the discipline to hold themselves and others accountable. Standards erode, mediocrity becomes acceptable, and the organizational culture shifts toward what's easy rather than excellent.

Resentment builds among colleagues and team members when they perceive that standards aren't being upheld or that accountability is lacking. Trust and morale deteriorate as high performers question why they should continue giving their best when others aren't held to the exact expectations.

These consequences underscore why balance is essential. We need grit and grace—not as occasional responses to specific situations but as integrated aspects of our leadership approach.

The Present Moment: Where Grit and Grace Converge

The key to balancing grit and grace lies in cultivating presence—the ability to be fully aware and engaged in the current moment, neither escaping past regrets nor projecting into future anxieties. Presence allows us to assess what's needed now accurately: Is this a moment that calls for pushing through or requires stepping back? Does this situation demand more discipline or more compassion?

Presence brings clarity to chaos. When fully present, we can distinguish between productive discomfort (the kind that leads to growth) and destructive strain (the kind that leads to breakdown). We can tell when our resistance stems from fear versus when it signals a genuine need for rest. We can discern when our team needs challenges versus when they need encouragement.

This presence doesn't happen automatically. It requires intention and practice—what we might call the SoulWork of leadership. Without this inner work, we default to habitual responses rather than thoughtful choices. We react based on past programming rather than responding to present needs.

Consider how presence transforms our relationship with both grit and grace:

When we're present, grit becomes not just blind persistence but strategic tenacity. We push through difficulties not just because we refuse to quit but because we've assessed that continuing serves our deeper purpose and values. We choose our battles wisely rather than fighting everyone that presents itself.

Similarly, when we're present, grace becomes passive acceptance and active self-care. We extend compassion to ourselves not as an excuse to avoid difficulty but as a recognition of our humanity and need for renewal. We rest not out of laziness but out of wisdom about our limits and rhythms.

Presence thus becomes the threshold where self-care and self-leadership meet—where we care for ourselves precisely so we can lead effectively and where we lead ourselves intentionally to sustain our capacity to care.

The Integration: Being Present to What Matters Most

The ultimate goal of balancing grit and grace isn't just personal well-being—though that's undoubtedly important. The deeper purpose is to expand our capacity to be present to what matters most: our mission, values, and legacy.

When caught in the cycle of either pushing too hard or giving up too quickly, we lose connection with our more profound purpose. We become so focused on surviving today that we lose sight of the impact we hope to have tomorrow. We get trapped in reacting to urgency rather than responding to importance.

The integration of grit and grace creates space for presence—to ourselves, to others, and to our highest aspirations. This presence doesn't eliminate difficulty or challenge; rather, it gives us the clarity to navigate challenges with wisdom rather than willpower.

It's tough to strike the balance between "Getting it Done" and "Give Me a Break." There's a time to lean in and a time to give it a rest. If we don't maintain balance, there's a cost on both sides. By embracing the intentional equilibrium of grit and grace, we cultivate resilience, foster growth, and navigate life's challenges with greater ease and compassion.

Remember, it's not about achieving perfection but embracing the humility of our imperfections, leaning into the task for today, and aspiring to give our best, one step at a time. This is the essence of self-leadership that sustains rather than depletes—leadership that brings order to the chaos within so we can more effectively address the chaos without.

Ultimately, the threshold between self-care and self-leadership isn't a line to cross once but a space to inhabit daily—a dynamic balance that requires constant attention and adjustment. In this space of integration, we find not just effectiveness but wholeness, not just achievement but fulfillment, not just success but significance.

The Dance of Grit and Grace

Ultimately, the threshold between self-care and self-leadership isn't a line to cross once but a space to inhabit daily—a dynamic balance that requires constant attention and adjustment. In this dance between pushing forward and pausing for renewal, we discover our capacity for impact.

The integration of grit and grace isn't about perfection but presence. When we balance determination with compassion, we create the conditions for being fully present—to ourselves, to others, and to the work that matters most. This presence becomes the foundation for authentic leadership that sustains rather than depletes, inspires rather than intimidates, and endures rather than exhausts.

Remember that this balance isn't achieved once and for all but recalibrated daily. Each morning offers a new opportunity to choose presence over distraction, intentionality over-reactivity, and the integrated wisdom of grit and grace. In this space of integration, we find not just effectiveness but wholeness, not just achievement but fulfillment, not just success but significance.

As you continue your journey of balancing grit and grace, consider these questions for reflection:

1. Where in your life or leadership do you need more grit—the courage to persevere despite difficulty? Conversely, where do you need more grace—the wisdom to extend compassion to yourself amid struggle?

2. Think about a recent situation where you felt most fully present and engaged. What balance of grit and grace made that presence possible? How might you recreate those conditions more consistently?

3. If you were to become 10% more intentional about balancing determination and self-compassion tomorrow, what one small practice would you begin or strengthen?