How Leaders Shape their Ecosystems
In the soggy Pacific Northwest landscape there lives an unassuming and elusive creature, one whose natural inclinations influence entire swaths of land. This animal can grow as large as a human child (up to 70 pounds) and is simultaneously the bane of many landowners and the star of the show, even showing up as the mascot at an Oregon university. Its innate drive is to build: to gnaw on young trees and shrubs and use the downed wood to erect intricate dams and massive lodges. When it does this, it changes the flow of water in an area, transforming free-flowing streams into acres of marshy wetlands. These wetlands provide habitat for hundreds of species of native and migratory birds and to native plants that are adapted to the soggy seasonal fluctuations. They act as a sponge, a natural filter that slows down water and pulls toxins out into the soil.
This influential animal is, of course, the American beaver, and its range extends far beyond the PNW to most of North America. In ecological terms, the beaver is considered a keystone species. The word keystone comes from old school masonry, a term for the central stone at the summit of an arch that locks all of the others into place. It is the central piece upon which the stability of the structure depends. So, too, the beaver in a freshwater wetland ecosystem. So, too, a leader’s nervous system.
When we as humans come together as a group, we create our own unique ecosystem that is made up of a complexity of interwoven threads that link each of us to each other. We are always in relationship, whether that is one of connection, openness, and authenticity, or one marked by disconnection and distrust. No matter what the intended outcome of a group–a classroom of students focused on academic learning, a team of coworkers collaborating toward a project goal, or an entire organization orienting toward a shared purpose–the relationships between individuals create something intangible but very real, which is a collective energy greater than the sum of its parts, what we often think of as the group culture.
As a leader, a crucial part of my role (albeit one that often gets ignored) is to be aware of the interpersonal dynamics at play and to influence them as best I can toward a culture that will best support the larger intentions of the group. This requires that I be aware of the needs and growth of the individuals as well as the interconnected culture of the group. It is no small task, but if I attend to it with intention and care, something beautiful can happen. A group of individuals transforms into a living organism, a self-organizing system that brings forth the best in each of us and moves us toward outcomes that we could never have imagined. Rather than thinking that I have to control and manage every detail, if I attend to the whole, the culture, the container, it can create a context for people to thrive, naturally.
Every individual in the group ecosystem influences the culture of the whole, but as a leader, my state has a disproportionate influence on the collective.
When I was facilitating social-emotional learning classes with teens, I noticed that on the days when I came to the work feeling energized and clear, when my mood was upbeat and inspired, my students seemed to magically rise to the tasks that I was asking them to do. They were more engaged. Attentive. Curious. On the days when I felt sluggish or resentful, they were inevitably more resistant, edgy, and caustic.
It’s hard to tell how much of this was a function of my own capacity to roll with the punches more easily when I was feeling good, but either way, what I came to realize was that when I nurtured myself into a more loving and open (regulated) orientation, it shifted the energy of the group. I noticed a positive feedback loop where their engagement and enthusiasm (or at least their willingness!) fed my energy, and made me feel more authentically connected to them, which increased their engagement even more. My nervous system was the keystone in the group ecosystem, and a deciding influence on the culture that I sought to create in my classroom.
We catch feelings from each other, in more ways than we consciously realize.
Human beings are innately attuned to the emotional wavelengths, as it were, of those around us. You can imagine how this equipped us for survival, in an evolutionary sense. As social beings, our thriving and well-being is intricately linked to the state of others. If there is a threat that you see but I don’t, it behooves me to pick up on your subtle body language and emotional energy. Similarly, our nervous systems are constantly attuning to unconscious cues from others (through a phenomenon called neuroception) to determine whether we are safe with them, what they think of us, and whether our relationship is on solid ground.
There are a few dynamics at play that influence this even more for folks in positions of leadership or similar roles which often confer a power differential, a certain amount of authority or status, or, in the best case, a positionality as a role model or guide. All of these factors mean that those who we lead or teach attune to us with more sensitivity because of the nature of our relationship. If you have the power to impact my survival or well-being by firing me or giving me a promotion, or making me look like a fool in front of my peers, or influencing my GPA and therefore my access to future opportunities, it makes sense that I’m going to be more attentive to your subtle emotional cues, whether I realize it or not.
Whether others are looking to you with respect or skepticism, admiration or fear, they are attuning to you. And if they pick up cues of safety and belonging and care, that will inspire a nervous system response that invites regulation and brings out peoples’ creativity and curiosity. For those who have lived experiences of being harmed by people in positions of authority or with certain identities, it will likely be a more circuitous and winding road to get to a place of trust and safety. Regardless, how you show up with your people has an equal or greater influence than anything you do or say, and that has everything to do with your willingness to do the inner work.
Grounded leadership is about cultivating our capacity to stay regulated amidst the challenges and demands of daily life so that we can be present and responsive to those we support.
It is about attending to our inner experience, developing awareness of our nervous system and emotional state, and consciously adopting mindsets and practices that support our overall well-being and that are conducive to staying in a responsive rather than reactive state.
This inside-out orientation allows me to take account of the stories I tell myself about others’ behaviors and recognize how these stories both emerge from and influence my own state and how they impact the ways that I’m able to show up with people. It insists that I take responsibility for my own experiences and emotions rather than externalizing blame, and invites the recognition that others’ unskillful behaviors are symptoms of dysregulation and unmet needs, not willful attempts to make my life miserable. It requires that I deepen my awareness of the implicit biases that I have toward or against particular identities or characteristics or personality types.
And on the most basic level, it recognizes that the amount of sleep that I got last night influences the energy of the people around me (and vice versa).
When I start with myself and attend to my own nervous system and emotional state with awareness and care, I am able to become a grounded presence that is inherently regulating and supportive to the people around me. When I intentionally nurture a culture of belonging in the classroom or team or organization that I lead, it creates an inherently regulating and collaborative environment. Then, when I am called upon to support individuals who are struggling, address difficult situations that arise, or deal with problematic behaviors, I am doing so with a strong foundation of a resilient nervous system and a full bank of trust that I can pull from in order to navigate challenges or have hard conversations.
This approach allows our work to become less like a game of whack-a-mole or an experience of constantly putting out fires (i.e. reactive survival mode) and more of a cohesive, intentional experience of responsive and collaborative relationships. It increases the likelihood that difficult moments will lead to deeper connections and individual growth. I’m no longer putting bandaids on gaping wounds or pushing down the symptoms of a dysfunctional system, but fostering health at the root so that the symptoms are less likely to appear, and when they do, I have the personal and relational wherewithal to respond skillfully and effectively.
Short lesson: you are a beaver. Whatever your context, you have the ability and influence to shape the ecosystem, the container, the culture of your team, your group, your classroom, your organization, even your family. And it starts internally, with the state of your own inner landscape, and expands outward from there.
And that’s dam good leadership (sorry, not sorry!).