Grow Your Professional Garden
Leadership is not about the power you hold, but the people you help grow.
Shakespeare famously wrote, “Some men are born great. Some men achieve greatness. Some men have greatness thrust upon them.”
This line is often quoted as inspiration. I have always understood it as a warning.
In modern organizations, we too often confuse authority with legitimacy and career progression with personal worth. At its worst, this mindset echoes the Divine Right of Kings—the belief that power alone justifies itself. Statements like, “You should follow my leadership because I’m [TITLE],” are subtle but corrosive. Authority can be granted instantly; wisdom cannot. And not everyone who receives power is prepared to use it well.
Anyone who has ever had a boss has seen this dynamic play out. But leadership is not only about those who acquire authority; it is also about those still working toward their own definition of greatness.
Early in my career, I missed the memo that you weren’t supposed to care deeply about the people you worked with. What I noticed instead was that most people are not chasing status for its own sake. They want to be recognized for work that matters, in ways that matter to them.
As my responsibilities grew, I realized something else: while I actively sought mentors and counsel, many others were simply winging it—often with predictable consequences. That realization shifted my focus. Rather than asking how to advance myself, I began asking how to help others become great in the ways they aspired to be.
Sometimes that meant offering direct, uncomfortable feedback on a résumé or a career move. Other times, it meant sitting in a diner after work, listening quietly, passing tissues, and saying very little. And occasionally, it meant telling someone they were wrong—clearly, kindly, and without ambiguity—while also offering a concrete path forward.
Conventional wisdom tells us that organizations are competitive by nature: look out for yourself, outmaneuver others, be the last one standing. In the short term, this approach can appear effective. But over time, I have seen it hollow organizations out. Burnout replaces trust. Talent disengages quietly. Systems become brittle.
The strongest organizations I’ve seen are built differently. Their leaders invest in people rather than consuming them, dividing them, or attempting to outlast them.
Business language often calls this teamwork, culture, or win-win thinking. There is a simpler and more honest word.
Love.
Not sentimentality. Not indulgence. Commitment. Caring enough about people to help them grow, to tell the truth when it is uncomfortable, and to make hard decisions with intention rather than indifference. Love accepts responsibility for outcomes, including the discomfort that comes with honesty.
This is how I think about leadership.
Be a gardener: help people identify what is holding them back and remove what no longer serves them.
Be a curator: help them recognize when what is merely good is preventing them from reaching what is best.
When leaders take responsibility for the growth of others—deliberately, consistently, and without ego—greatness stops being accidental and becomes inevitable.
