Heal to Lead E-Book

Kelly L. Campbell

• Herausgeber: John Wiley & Sons
• Kategorie: Fachliteratur
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 367

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

By taking radical responsibility for your own healing, you unveil the high-conscious leader within that our world needs right now. You don't outrun or outgrow the formative experiences that have shaped who you are. So, it makes sense that your emotional history would also be the foundation of your leadership style. If what got you to this point may now be the very thing that is holding you back, then Heal to Lead was written for you. Everything you've read about conscious leadership is based on self-awareness and personal growth, yet the missing link has been trauma healing. If you want greater collaboration with your people, the confidence to inspire growth in your organization, and a more meaningful connection to yourself, your community, and the natural world, it's time to do the inner work. This book shows you how to develop high-conscious leadership, rooted in deep introspection, vulnerability, compassion, and reciprocity with all beings. Inside, former CEO turned trauma-informed leadership coach Kelly L. Campbell walks alongside you as you unpack and process what's been buried within your psyche. Integrating your past trauma is the key to unlearning the maladaptive strategies that have kept you subconsciously safe until now. With the resources, personal anecdotes, and reflection questions in this book, you will be better able to regulate your emotions and feel more enlivened as you lead from a place of reclamation. As an indicator of your commitment, your organization will ultimately realize greater stability and success. * Discover how trauma lives in the body and can hinder you from accessing your potential. * Break strategic patterns in your life that keep you automated, and gain clarity about what you are here to contribute. * Develop greater compassion for yourself and others so you can co-create healthy workplace culture and respond productively in difficult situations. * Make a lasting, positive impact within your organization and augment your bottom line. * Disrupt the default of extractive, patriarchal, and supremacist business practices. * Commit to taking part in the restoration of our societal tapestry and global environment. Heal to Lead is a radical departure from the myths that emerging and established leaders like you have been fed for so long. By healing your core wounds, you shed other people's stories about who you are, releasing the pain and scarcity mindset that keeps you feeling stuck. This liberation finally gives you access to your innate gifts as a leader, and you feel empowered to do the right thing by all as a generative force in the world.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Notes

Introduction

Notes

PART I: Kintsukuroi

Note

1 Why We Become Leaders

Being Needed Versus Being Wanted

Shadow Leadership Styles

Sorting for Sanity

Survival Superpowers

Notes

2 Low-Conscious Leaders Are Everywhere

How Did We Get Here?

My Turn to Be Bullied

Hurt People Hurt People

How Do We Deal with Low-Conscious Leaders?

Notes

3 The Wound in the Room

Inner Wisdom Requires Willingness

Pain Avoidance and Pain Bias

The Distance Between One Another Is Ourselves

Survivor Leaders

Notes

4 Why Now?

An Increasing Interest in New Leadership Philosophies

Conscious Leadership Mandates

Environmental Care Commitments

Notes

PART II: Preparing for the Journey

Note

5 Contextualizing Trauma

The Night I Killed My Mother

Knowing Ourselves

What Is Trauma, Anyway?

Trigger Warning

Reactions to Trauma

Epigenetics and Leadership

Unintegrated Information

Getting It Right

Notes

6 Maintenance Versus Healing

Talk Therapy

Remedial Coaching

Superficial Self-Care

(Spiritual) Bypassing

Notes

7 What Is High-Conscious Leadership?

An Extended Definition

Leaders as Healers

True North: Unveiling Your Leadership Identity

Notes

8 Four Fundamentals

Creating Healing Spaces

Trauma-Informed Work Environments

Notes

PART III: When the Past Is Present

Note

9 Fundamental #1: Integrating Trauma

The Spiral of Healing

The Integration Tripod

Self-Awareness

Behavioral Modification

Notes

10 Practicing Introspection

Developing and Deepening Conscious Awareness

What's Your Attachment Style?

Change as a Practice

Notes

11 An Awakening

Unemployable

Dark Night of the Soul

Leadership Lessons Learned

Discovering the Root

Full Circle

Notes

12 Doing the Work

What Is the Work?

The Journey of a Lifetime

How Do I Know the Work Is Working?

Why Is Integration So Important?

Notes

PART IV: True Strength

Note

13 Fundamental #2: Embodying Vulnerability

A History Lesson

Time to Come Clean

Healthy Vulnerability

The Mother Wound

The Social Construct of Failure

Notes

14 Failure's Great Gift

Impostor Syndrome

Upper Limiting

Notes

15 The Value of Nothingness

Posttraumatic Growth Versus Resilience

Notes

16 The Art of Implementation

Valuing Vulnerability on the Stage

Redefining Systemic Vulnerability

Breaking Down Barriers and Building Equity

Notes

PART V: Care in Action

Note

17 Fundamental #3: Leading with Compassion

The Art and Science of Effective Leadership

Notes

18 Compassionate Intelligence

The Spectrum Between Martyrdom and Apathy

Can Compassion Really Be Rational?

What's in Your Toolbox?

A Basic Framework for Compassionate Intelligence

Dismantling Oppressive Systems

Notes

19 How We Respond Matters

Notes

20 A Shift in Intention

14 Tenets of Eco-Leadership

Note

PART VI: The Great Remembering

Notes

21 Fundamental #4: Lighting the Way

The Epidemic of Not-Enoughness

Disrupting Leadership Norms

Elevating and Empowering Others

22 Essential Work

The Light of Trauma

Note

23 What We Receive When We Give

Native Actualization

Untended Fields

Notes

24 Project Rebuild

The Runway to Freedom

The Revolution Is Already Here

Notes

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Index

End User License Agreement

Guide

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Introduction

Table of Contents

Begin Reading

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Index

End User License Agreement

Pages

iii

iv

v

ix

x

xi

xiii

xiv

xv

xvi

xvii

xviii

xix

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

39

40

41

42

43

44

45

46

47

48

49

50

51

52

53

54

55

56

57

59

60

61

62

63

64

65

66

67

68

69

70

71

73

74

75

76

77

79

80

81

82

83

84

85

86

87

89

90

91

92

93

94

95

96

97

98

99

100

101

102

103

105

106

107

108

109

110

111

112

113

114

115

116

117

119

120

121

122

123

124

125

126

127

128

129

130

131

132

133

134

135

136

137

138

139

140

141

143

144

145

146

147

148

149

150

151

152

153

154

155

156

157

158

159

160

161

163

164

165

166

167

169

170

171

172

173

175

176

177

178

179

180

181

182

183

185

186

187

188

189

190

191

192

193

195

196

197

198

199

200

201

223

224

225

227

228

229

230

231

232

233

234

235

KELLY L. CAMPBELL

HEAL to LEAD

Revolutionizing Leadership through Trauma Healing

Copyright © 2024 by John Wiley & Sons, Inc. All rights reserved.

Published by John Wiley & Sons, Inc., Hoboken, New Jersey.Published simultaneously in Canada.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without either the prior written permission of the Publisher, or authorization through payment of the appropriate per-copy fee to the Copyright Clearance Center, Inc., 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923, [phone], fax [phone], or on the web at www.copyright.com. Requests to the Publisher for permission should be addressed to the Permissions Department, John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 111 River Street, Hoboken, NJ 07030, [phone], fax [phone], or online at http://www.wiley.com/go/permission.

Trademarks: Wiley and the Wiley logo are trademarks or registered trademarks of John Wiley & Sons, Inc. and/or its affiliates in the United States and other countries and may not be used without written permission. All other trademarks are the property of their respective owners. John Wiley & Sons, Inc. is not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book.

Limit of Liability/Disclaimer of Warranty: While the publisher and author have used their best efforts in preparing this book, they make no representations or warranties with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this book and specifically disclaim any implied warranties of merchantability or fitness for a particular purpose. No warranty may be created or extended by sales representatives or written sales materials. The advice and strategies contained herein may not be suitable for your situation. You should consult with a professional where appropriate. Further, readers should be aware that websites listed in this work may have changed or disappeared between when this work was written and when it is read. Neither the publisher nor authors shall be liable for any loss of profit or any other commercial damages, including but not limited to special, incidental, consequential, or other damages.

For general information on our other products and services or for technical support, please contact our Customer Care Department within the United States at [phone], outside the United States at [phone] or fax [phone].

Wiley also publishes its books in a variety of electronic formats. Some content that appears in print may not be available in electronic formats. For more information about Wiley products, visit our web site at www.wiley.com.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is Available:

ISBN: 978-1-394-21315-3 (cloth)ISBN: 978-1-394-21316-0 (ePub)ISBN: 978-1-394-21317-7 (ePDF)

COVER DESIGN: PAUL MCCARTHYCOVER ART: © GETTY IMAGES | JAMIELAWTON

For my grandmother, Ann, who taught me the wisdom of innate leadership

Prologue

INTUITIVELY, I CAN sense their approach, and in the distant sky, I hear the unmistakable calls on the wind. The sounds in unison turn a smile on my face, as if each muscle is engaged in the effortlessness of my joy. My grandmother has sent another flock of geese to soar overhead. For more than 20 years since her passing, this is her loving gesture to remind me to lift my gaze, feel the fullness of universal synchronicity, and remember.

My grandmother loved Canada geese more than anyone I've ever met. She was awestruck by the innate wisdom of these birds to rotate leaders based on how well rested they were. Exactly how they make the decision to swap, scientists do not know, but what they have discovered is that by flying in a V formation, a flock increases its flight range by about 71%. As a result, each of the birds exerts far less energy and can glide more often.1 The birds at the back honk at those up front as a means of encouragement to keep a consistent pace. If a single goose falls out of formation, it immediately experiences the resistance that comes with flying alone. Realizing the impossibility of sustaining a solo journey, it quickly returns to the advantage of the gaggle's streamlined, uplifting power. When a member of the flock falls away due to illness or injury, two others join its journey as a means of protection and care until the goose either recovers or perishes. Then the two or three of them join a new flock, and the cycle of regenerative leadership continues.

My grandmother honored nature for its intelligent design and beauty. Her influence on my life and life's work has been profound, more so than I had realized before writing Heal to Lead. In particular, her astute recognition of innate leadership seeped into my psyche from a young age through some osmotic phenomenon: the most effective leader is not the loudest nor the one who desires the credit, but the one who knows the importance of caring for others and who believes in the regenerative power of the collective.

In Braiding Sweetgrass, author Robin Wall Kimmerer shares the Native American story of how North America, or Turtle Island, was formed after Skywoman's fall from above was broken by the rising of warm, softly feathered wings. Her recount reminds us all of the generosity of geese.2 There is so much compassion and wisdom held within their wings, and yet in the colonial loss of reverence for the natural world and humankind, there has been a mass migration toward disintegration—what has incorrectly become understood as leadership.

Somewhere along the way, modern man assumed he could outsmart Mother Nature. In silencing intuition and devaluing natural fluency for the last 500 years, we have all been paying the price. Today, the cost of status quo continuance has been made exponentially higher because modern leadership choices have prioritized short-term progress to our peril, relegating most of us to suffer.

The norms of so-called leadership have meant going it alone, flying until we're burnt out, honking at those behind us, allowing unsupported members to fall away, and neglecting our universal community. It's easy to name all the reasons why change cannot be made because quieting our inner wisdom also blocks our ingenuity and willingness. As high-conscious leaders, though, it is possible to revert to our inherent goodness and change course completely. Where we can begin is within our control; the starting point just happens to be what most of us have been avoiding until now.

You and I were born whole, intrinsically good-hearted, and with an ability to distinguish kindness from cruelty. Our experiences of the traumatic events that have happened to us have incrementally shielded us from the profoundness of our kind, loving nature. The discomfort we all feel, to some degree, is due to that stark contrast between how we came into this world and who we are now. But we do not have to proceed disconnected from a central flow of life force. We do not have to destroy each other and the land under our feet in the name of greed, God, status, or power. This is not who we are. We know better but we have forgotten much. There is another way.

Within each of us lies the gateway to healing ourselves, trusting each other, and honoring the gifts of the world we inhabit. By working through our own trauma, we can re-form the shape of leadership and return to a higher state of consciousness.

Notes

1

.  Science Reference Section, Library of Congress. “Why Do Geese Fly in a V?” Everyday Mysteries: Fun Science Facts from the Library of Congress, November 19, 2019; accessed July 28, 2023:

https://www.loc.gov/everyday-mysteries/zoology/item/why-do-geese-fly-in-a-v/

2

.  Kimmerer, Robin Wall. “Skywoman Falling,”

Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants

. Minneapolis: Milkweed Editions, 2013, pp. 3–10.

Introduction

SITTING IN THE back seat of the family car, a white Crown Victoria with velvety, navy blue interior, my younger brother next to me, my mother pulled into the parking lot of the shopping plaza where our local movie theater was located. She maneuvered the gear shift into park, slung her right arm over the passenger seat, and turned around to look at us. “I wanted to let you know that your father won't be living with us for a while. He has some things to work out. And I don't know when he'll be back…. So, are you ready to see Honey, I Shrunk the Kids?”

Talk about shrinking already small children. Even at nine years old, I knew their marriage was rocky, but the words streaming from her mouth didn't make sense. I had so many questions. So many emotions. Mostly, fear. Who would protect me from her if he was gone from our house? I recall a distinct disconnect between her words and demeanor. No mutual responsibility taken for their dysfunctional relationship, no modicum of reassurance that everything would be okay, no time or safe space offered for Q&A. And now she wanted us to sit through some comedic science fiction movie?

I looked over at Kevin, just a year younger—Irish twins, as they say—a distinct mix of shock in his body and tears already starting to stream down his face, lip quivering. Within seconds, I tried to fit all of the pieces into the compartments that my logical brain could comprehend, organize the disparities, and suppress any emotions that were trying to make themselves known. I put my hand on my eight-year-old brother's back and then wrapped my arm around his shoulder. I watched his face, a mirror to my own experience. I leaned in to console him the only way I knew how in that moment and said, “It's gonna be okay, bud.”

More than anything, I wanted someone to hold me. To explain what was actually happening, what I should expect. I needed someone to reassure me that I would not be in more danger. It was clear that she wasn't going to do anything to assuage either of us except pretend that the distraction of a kid's movie would somehow make it all seem normal.

Of course I couldn't concentrate. The concept of the movie seemed disjointed, much like the way she communicated this life-altering news and then ushered us to our sticky theater seats. I kept looking over to see how Kevin was holding up. He was in pain but distracting himself with laughter and candy as a means of emotional protection. I don't remember anything about the ride home except my brother's whispered question, “Do you think we'll ever see dad again?” My heart broke inside the walls of my small chest. “Yeah, totally. He'll come see us all the time. I know he will. I promise.”

I was afraid of and angry at my mother simultaneously, but I had become adept at compartmentalizing my feelings, too. I was able to quell my brother's worries and make everything feel a little less scary, even if just for the night. It was the first time I recall exhibiting courage, in that I could assess a difficult situation and, despite my own fear and uncertainty, open my heart to support someone who needed guidance. I didn't know it at the time, but my leadership abilities were being inadvertently honed day by day throughout my childhood.

When I was asked the singular question that would spur the direction of this book—“What was the first moment in your life that you remember stepping into a leadership role?”—I was caught entirely off guard by the memory of sitting in that car. I expected that my mind would conjure recollections of high school volleyball or softball team captainship, or of hiring my first employee as a young business owner. I hadn't realized that this latent memory was living in my body. I hadn't recounted that event even once since the night in that parking lot. It spoke to something greater that was still unhealed in me. Even after a decade and a half of talk therapy, I couldn't shake the deep knowing that I was still carrying a lot of past trauma.

Childhood experiences, in which we weren't made to feel safe, valued, loved, or a sense of belonging, impact us to such depths that our coping mechanisms become the foundation for how we view the world and our place within it. They impact how we interact with others when we're young as much as what we choose to prioritize later in life.

Over the last few years, I have come to understand what trauma actually is: information that is unprocessed, or unintegrated, within the psyche and in the body. Trauma is not who we are. It is not our identity. Trauma is not something to be ashamed of, nor were the things we experienced our fault. We did nothing to invite, attract, or provoke those negative encounters. It's important to understand, right from the beginning of this book, that in our own experiencing of negative events, we were on the receiving end of someone else's unprocessed pain. When we don't do the work of healing our wounds, we perpetuate a harmful cycle.

In the context of leadership, trauma can manifest as a spectrum of behaviors that range from people controlling to people pleasing. Examples might include dominance, expectation of perfection, and micromanaging. Or, on the flip side, overgiving, having poor boundaries, and dissociating. The underlying belief running through both is that we are damaged—and therefore unworthy of being accepted simply for who we are. How detrimental it is to us and others when our wounds drive our leadership style.

Regardless of your brand of traumatic experiences, none of us escaped our formative years unscathed. Each of us has our own version of not being enough. That's because acts of survival in early life determine many of our ideologies as adults about love and belonging: how it looks or sounds or feels, and how to abandon ourselves in order to receive it. We all have emotional wounds that have imprinted and fueled our strategies, actions, and belief systems as we mature. Hopefully, we will spend a lifetime trying to re-parent and reconnect with our own inner child to let that little version of us know that it's not only okay but in fact necessary to start communicating our needs and boundaries as adults—especially when those reflect what we did not receive during our youngest years.

Our primary parental relationships are what we rely upon for safety and external validation of the self—until we grow older and can provide that for ourselves. When we begin to revisit the scenes and memories from our past, we can see clearly how many of us were not given what we needed to flourish into healthy adults, let alone leaders. But here's the thing: we cannot be the kind of leaders that our changing world needs and bypass the healing of psychological wounds from our past.

Healing starts with introspection about the very experiences that have made us who we are as leaders today. These impact what we believe, why we think, speak, and behave the way we do, and how we show up as our true selves, or wear the mask that will simply help us assimilate. To experience personal growth and the becoming of a high-conscious leader, my experience is that the process entails deconstruction of your worldview and much of what you know about this current version of yourself. Sounds fun, right? Sign me up!

To become the kind of leader we need at this very moment—as we move forward in the new iteration of the world we're creating—there is an unraveling that is both natural and necessary. It's the molting of a skin that used to (or might still) feel uncomfortable to us as adults. It's learning how to regulate emotions, not by pushing them away, but by inviting them in, experiencing them, and then releasing historical attachment to them. It's acceptance of the fact that who you were, from an egoic sense, will need to die in order to be rebirthed as the leader those in your family, community, organization, and the world want to emulate.

Researcher and author Brené Brown's definition of a leader has resonated with me since Dare to Lead was published in 2018: “A leader is anyone who takes responsibility for finding the potential in people and processes, and who has the courage to develop that potential.”1 Yet we can't get to a place of taking responsibility, raising others up, or being courageous without first engaging in the process of healing ourselves.

Out of the four that I share throughout this book, perhaps Integrating Trauma is the most important fundamental of influential leadership. Healing begins by releasing old narratives about who we were, in favor of who we might be. In doing so, we get ever closer to the true nature of who we are as high-conscious leaders within or at the helm of our organizations: generous, kind and supportive, vulnerable and wise, curious, interested in those under our care surpassing any legacy we might leave, and restoration of being in right relationship with nature.

“Letting go is the path to freedom. It is only by letting go of the hopes, the fears, the pain, the past, the stories that have a hold on us that we can quiet our mind and open our heart.”2

—Jack Kornfield

AUTHOR AND BUDDHIST MONK

With all of the disruption and intense anxiety, leadership and learning demand more wisdom.

The frameworks that allow for wise healing are often counterintuitive to what has historically been valued in our culture. More being and less doing is antithetical to every message we've received to date. Keep that in mind as we take this journey together because there might be some discomfort, confusion, and resistance as you read. In fact, transformation without those experiences would be impossible.

And while transformation never takes the same form for any two people, here's a sense of what you can expect in the pages ahead. In Part I: Kintsukuroi, I explain why now is the time to lead more effectively. Part II: Preparing for the Journey is an exploration of what we mean by trauma, how trauma integration modalities are differentiated from mental health maintenance, what I mean by high-conscious leadership, and an outline of the four fundamentals thereof. Part III: When the Past Is Present dives head-first into trauma integration as the foundation for all else, including access to an online menu of healing modalities to give you a taste of what's available. Throughout this part, I share the personal stories of how trauma not only influenced who I am, but how I've been integrating my core wounding. In Part IV: True Strength, I make the case for the embodiment of vulnerability as the second fundamental for high-conscious leadership. I take that a step further by diving into the gift of failure, impostor syndrome, and upper limiting—some of the most vulnerable places for the egos of leaders. In Part V, Care in Action, I unpack the three different types of empathy, offer examples of how to use compassionate intelligence, and explain why a shift in intention—from productivity to employee well-being—is a guarantee for long-term organizational success. Finally, Part VI: The Great Remembering says that when we actively heal, we naturally want to light the way for others and contribute meaningfully in the world.

You might be feeling an inner lack of purpose, impact, or belonging. You're likely still reeling from all that has happened since 2020, including the governmental decisions to revoke many of our basic human rights in the United States—from reproductive justice,3 access to a healthy environment, LGBTQIA+ rights, and gender-affirming care, to open discussion about critical race theory, gender identity, and social and land justice. Perhaps the introspection that was born of isolation and what we're confronting right now has sparked the feeling in you that there has to be a better way to be in the world.

Regardless of how Heal to Lead found its way to you, you've opened it because you're ready to go deeper. You're ready to discover a different perspective, to surrender, and to live a fulfilled life—for yourself and for the benefit of all stakeholders under your care. I'm rooting for you to find the purpose, stability, deep contentment, and natural joy you've been seeking for so long. Through sharing my healing leader's story, I want you to consider how yours has been in the making since you were a child. It feels like it's being called to the surface, too. Through these pages, you'll discover how your early experiences have shaped everything about you. As you begin to look within yourself, I ask only that you dial up your curiosity and reflect on the questions sprinkled throughout the following chapters.

I am unapologetic about my belief that we need to both deepen and widen our understanding of what's required for real leadership. That means owning our own trauma, healing the earth, and creating cultures in which our people feel safe, seen, heard, respected, valued, and included by default—not as an afterthought or a means of box-checking.

Can you imagine what would happen if we replaced command-and-control power, rigidity, and egocentricity with consciousness, collaboration, and genuine care for those under our stewardship? If the opposite of shrinking is expanding, doesn't that mean healing to lead in a soul-forward way so that we can all rise together? If the new hallmarks of effective leadership are self-development, empathy, vulnerability, honesty, and conscious communication, how can we lead organizations now and into a just future if we have not set our own foundation?

Within these questions lies a gap—the chasm between processing our past and bringing a higher level of consciousness to leadership. Up until this point, we have not named the profound space that exists between these two seemingly disparate pieces of ourselves as leaders. Why not?

For starters, being open about trauma requires vulnerability, which has historically been viewed as a weakness by leaders.

Mental health and psychological wounds have been stigmatized in society for centuries, and within most of America's workplaces, that stigma is even stronger.

Thoughtfully processing inner information does not happen quickly, and it goes against our natural ability to discern the difference between threat to our survival and threat to our ego. Plus, most of us would prefer to do literally anything else.

This is brand new territory for many. As an on-ramp, what I can offer is a new set of four essentials for becoming an effective, high-conscious leader. Ultimately, you're the only one who can do the work though. By the end of this book, you might begin to see your own unhealed aspects. You might become curious about how to move toward emotional liberation and a more conscious approach to leading. Go slowly. If you can begin to do the transformative inner work that's required, I will show you that to lead effectively you must encounter the edges and depths of yourself.

I want to be clear that I do not have the answers that you will be searching for throughout this journey. Spoiler alert: you are whole and complete, and you are the subject matter expert of your own life. What I do have to share is a lived experience as a gender-fluid, social entrepreneur who is continuously healing and awakening, training and years of experience as a trauma-informed leadership coach and conscious leadership consultant, and imperatives to share as a series of mile markers. These are set up intentionally through a lens of axiology—shining a light on intrinsic, extrinsic, and systemic considerations. As you unpack your past, I'm game to be your guide so that you have a sense of the terrain that might lie ahead for you. Let's turn this page together.

Notes

1

.  Brown, Brené.

Dare to Lead: Brave Work. Tough Conversations. Whole Hearts

. New York: Random House Publishing Group, 2018, p. 4.

2

.  Kornfield, Jack.

The Art of Forgiveness, Lovingkindness, and Peace

. New York: Bantam Books, 2002, p. 54. Copyright © 2002 by Jack Kornfield. Used by permission of Bantam Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.

3

.  Pacia, Danielle M. “Reproductive Rights vs. Reproductive Justice: Why the Difference Matters in Bioethics”

Bill of Health

, the blog of the Petrie-Flom Center at Harvard Law School, November 3, 2020; accessed December 17, 2023:

https://blog.petrieflom.law.harvard.edu/2020/11/03/reproductive-rights-justice-bioethics/

PART IKintsukuroi

“Keep looking at the bandaged place. That is where the light enters you.”1

—Jalāl al-Dīn Rumi

13th-CENTURY POET AND SUFI MYSTIC

IN JAPANESE CULTURE, the concept of finding beauty in every aspect of imperfection in nature is referred to as wabi-sabi. It comes from the Buddhist teaching of the three basic truths of existence, in which we can think of all things as imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete. Wabi-sabi rails against the Western association between beauty and perfection, and it allows us to embrace the natural essence of being.

One of my favorite examples is kintsukuroi, the 400-year-old artful practice of mending broken pottery with liquid gold in order to honor the history and utility of breaks in the form. A metaphor for healing our own wounds, the process and visibility of repair actually creates something stronger, unique, and more approachable than the original. These cracks, or imperfections, show up in our leadership style.

Whether or not we choose to mend them determines the quality with which we lead others. Those who lead from a fear-based place of scarcity might be aggressive or passive-aggressive, dominant, demeaning, or micromanaging. Leaders who did not feel valued or worthy during childhood might unconsciously devalue those within their organization. If they feel the need to prove their own worth, they might take credit for other people's ideas or work. They might never ask for input from their teams because they believe that they need to have all of the answers to gain respect.

I call these low-conscious leaders, and there is nothing inherently wrong with them. You might even resonate with one or more of these behaviors; I certainly did. Yet the light of awakening finds its way in somehow. Like a cracked clay vessel, all leaders are whole—and most are in need of healing to meet their highest function. There is a plethora of gold in the process of integrating one's trauma, as opposed to resisting the remedy or pretending those emotional wounds do not exist.

The gold emerges in moments of recognition when something deeper is activated, but you respond with intention—instead of reacting without any. You find yourself considering the impact that your decisions might have on all stakeholders. You develop a genuine curiosity for how others experience the world and feel compelled to act if someone needs support. Your ability to communicate more thoughtfully with your employees, clients, significant other(s), and children makes you feel proud. When you look back, a sense of wonder invites you to question how you lived any other way.

In the same way that our imperfections create a life that is rich, resilient, and abundant, the wounds we experience in childhood can one day break us open to the truth and the light of who we are as leaders.

Note

1

.  Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī.

Selected Poems

. New York: Penguin Books, 2004, p. 142.

1Why We Become Leaders

COURAGE—FROM THE LATIN cor, meaning heart—is herculean in the face of fear. The news that my dad was leaving us was heartbreaking for me. I wouldn't let anyone see or know that though. Not my mother. Not Kevin. Certainly not my dad; he was my advocate. I had already been people-pleasing for years up to this point, but now I was in a desperate position. Sure, I could have voiced how I felt to my father, but I sensed the gravity of the situation, and my survival strategy was to limit any risk in burdening or displeasing him. My future leadership tendency toward pleasing started right here, with this very experience. In my nine-year-old subconscious mind, I couldn't risk losing his love or protection because then I would be alone, with her, and in real danger.

In my heart though, I was disappointed and scared. I was angry at him, too, but I never let myself feel those emotions at the time. They didn't feel like safe emotions to have, so I stuffed them down like I had been doing with my mother all along. They piled up and calcified in my gut, but I pretended everything was fine between him and me. In fact, I put my father on a pedestal because any other subconscious strategy would have meant that both of my caregivers—the totality of my environment—were flawed and therefore unsafe.

More than 30 years later, I have come to realize that he knew my mother better than anyone. He knew what she was capable of, and he knew what was happening in our home. Maybe he was in some amount of denial and emotional repression due to his own experience with childhood physical abuse at the hands of his stepfather. To rescue me from our home would have forced him to engage with his own experience of abuse, and he was unable or unwilling. Relatedly, maybe his own gender-bias—that only men can exhibit violence and aggression to that extent—caused a blind spot for him. And whether either of these is true, I have come to trust that my feelings at nine were entirely valid. I love my dad, and he is fallible just like every one of us.

It wasn't until recently that two epiphanies emerged. First, I want a closer, more connected relationship with my father, but his capacity to engage with his own emotions keeps us in a relational dance that is loving and mostly utilitarian. We banter when we debate a topic, but his nature is reactionary and his default is to sarcasm. More often than not, he's listening to reply—not listening to understand. His wounds don't allow him the space to see what's important to me in a conversation, why I might place such value on the ideals I hold, or what emotion might be underneath what I'm saying. Though he has been the leader of our family, I had never viewed my father through the lens of his own trauma—until now. The depth of his heart is easy to observe, as is his unending generosity; I wonder if watching him is where I first learned that caring for others and being generous with time or resources are a subconscious, strategic duo that also help one gain love and belonging. Like any little boy, he just wanted to feel safe, loved, and appreciated within his family dynamic. I see that play out between us now that I'm in my 40s. And though I can get frustrated by our opposing communication styles, I remind myself of the root of his reactions. Few things would bring me greater joy than for my dad to integrate the traumatic experiences he has endured, but his choices are not my responsibility. I have realized that my nine-year-old self clung anxiously to the relationship because my life literally depended on it, and I've done a lot of work to unravel my insecure attachment style over the last three decades.

Secondly, all that said, I just might be more grateful for him today than ever before. He chose to break the patriarchal cycle of physical abuse within his own family and lineage, and he validated my experiences, no matter how difficult it might have been for him to recall being in my shoes.

One spring morning in 2021, I came across a podcast episode of Tom Bilyue's Impact Theory entitled, “Dr. Gabor Maté on How We Become Who We Are.”1 Dr. Maté is a Hungarian Canadian physician, best-selling author, and world-renowned expert on childhood development and trauma. Less than 15 minutes into the conversation, I realized why my father played such a large role in saving my life as a kid. He showed me kindness, was empathetic, and validated some of my most violent experiences with my mother. During the episode, Dr. Maté explained that many factors help determine resilience—and the greatest one of all is having just one person in your life who provides even a modicum of validation during childhood. I had two: my father and his mother, Ann.

Back then, my father's way of being unconsciously signaled to me that I might be loveable. Maybe I'm not worthless. Maybe I do matter. As a kid, all I needed was a miniscule hole to be poked in the story that I was broken and irreparably damaged. Physical abuse has a way of destroying the magic we come into this world with. I longed for something to counter what was being messaged to me daily by my mother, and my dad's validating words and actions created the possibility for me to become a healthy human. He is one reason why I did the work to remember who I am.

Dr. Maté went on to explain that there are two views each of us can choose from during our traumatic, formative years. We can either believe that there is something foundationally wrong with the world and our caretakers within it, or we can surmise that we must be the broken thing. The former view is much scarier, he says—because if the environment is flawed, how can we ever feel safe in it?

Being Needed Versus Being Wanted

In the documentary The Wisdom of Trauma, Dr. Maté tells a personal and vulnerable story about not feeling wanted as a child. In feeling unwanted, he chose to become a medical doctor so that he would feel needed by his patients. His work in uncovering his own trauma led him to realize how much it plays a role in the positions we gravitate toward as adults.2

Many of us become leaders for one of three subconscious reasons:

We need to feel valued or prove ourselves worthy.

We need to dissociate from feelings of deep shame and powerlessness.

We feel a profound sense of responsibility for others.

When I put my arm around my brother the night my mother told us that my dad was leaving, I was making myself needed as much as I felt responsible to support him. As trauma survivors, we “value being needed because [we] can't imagine being wanted.”3 Many of us become leaders because we believe that if we can succeed, we'll prove to ourselves and everyone else that we have inherent worth.

Shadow Leadership Styles

Trauma can both encourage us to be our best and, at the same time, hold us back from living and leading with higher consciousness. Some people fight their way to the top because their ego needs to protect itself by dominating others. Others cater to the whims of those under them out of fear of abandonment or rejection. We constantly play out our responses to early unmet needs. In other words, many of us who find ourselves in leadership positions are actually attempting to combat or distract ourselves from unresolved trauma.

Let's talk about what kind of leader you've become. To keep things simple, I've broken this down into just two trauma-based styles: People Controllers and People Pleasers. Across these two categories, the need to feel valued and worthy is foundational because it is a basic psychological need of all humans, regardless of the specific type or longevity of trauma. Some of my work is influenced by Positive Intelligence—the work of Shirzad Charmine, a Stanford lecturer leading research on the saboteurs we encounter within ourselves and how they can undermine our leadership efficacy.

People Controllers

When perfectionism is taken to the extreme, it serves as temporary relief for People Controllers. The combination of self-doubt and fear of being judged by others is somehow quelled by doing things the right way, on time, without a single mistake or misstep. This sets up People Controllers for failure because perfection is an impossibility for themselves and for others.

Most controlling leaders don't understand that leadership is about influence more than anything else. The control mechanisms used are an attempt to avoid the deep shame and powerlessness they experienced in childhood. According to Shirzad Chamine, they “might have generated a sense of order in the middle of a chaotic family dynamic, or earned acceptance and attention from emotionally distant or demanding parents by standing out as the irreproachable, perfect kid.”4

People-controlling leaders tend to micromanage, which erodes the empowerment of others. They assume they are always right, and that those within their organization approve of how they lead. They must have the final word in every decision and are deeply uncomfortable with any perceived threat to their authority. This is also referred to as autocratic leadership.

Archetypes include the Patriarch, the Hero, and the Dictator. Anyone who views themselves as a protector, breadwinner, authoritarian, or disciplinarian would likely fall into this category. If they had integrated their past trauma, they would recognize that they can only control their own reactions, attitudes, and biases—never people or other external forces.

“To empower people means learning how to lead people without controlling them.”5

—Dave Kraft

MISTAKES LEADERS MAKE

People Pleasers

According to Beatrice Chestnut, people-pleasing leaders unconsciously strive to be liked by as many people as possible. They attempt to earn attention and acceptance through helping, rescuing, or flattering others. An underlying fear of rejection stems from childhood trauma and shows up as conflict avoidance, burnout due to inability to delegate, selflessness, poor boundaries, dependence, and even manipulation.6