I Fought The Now (And The Now Won)
I've spent the last few weeks tweaking my website and had a full-circle moment I didn’t expect.
The new headline reads:
Real leadership starts where certainty ends.
It’s something I believe in wholeheartedly. AND I couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of that line.
Truthfully, I’ve spent years trying to outrun being in uncertainty. I wanted the plan, the map, the guarantee. It was hard to slow down when I didn’t know the answer and, honestly, why bother? Why slow down when you could strategize your way forward?
When I first worked with a coach in 2015, I was navigating a new leadership role in ad tech—and a quieter, personal sense of feeling lost. That coach, Faye Mandell, came into my life like many of my early teachers: through family, through timing, and through a sense of being ready. Faye was a force—anchoring her work in quantum physics and holding her clients to consistently anchor themselves in presence.
And I was… resistant. Fiercely so. When we started, I was obsessed with knowing how the story ended. Not necessarily the fairy tale, but the plan. The outcome. I didn’t want the journey—I wanted the shortcut.
What I learned with her feels especially relevant now, as I help leaders and teams navigate complexity and uncertainty at a level that was unimaginable a decade ago. Because what I once avoided is now the foundation of my work. The irony isn't lost on me: I now coach others to do the very thing I most resisted—stay with what’s unfolding, right here, right now.
Faye used to say the real work is noticing when we’re living in the past or jumping ahead to the future, and choosing instead to come back to the now. I remember once walking toward a conversation I was dreading and practicing what she taught me: being fully present in the walk, not already mentally in the conversation. It was a small moment—feeling my toes in my shoes at a red light at a busy Manhattan intersection—but it was also everything.
That presence is what I bring into my work today. Because uncertainty isn’t just something to tolerate—it’s a place where creativity, curiosity, and courageous leadership live. The ability to sit in the unknown, without rushing to a solution, is a practice. And it’s one that makes all the difference.
Faye also warned of "the illusion of the mind"—how our thoughts can create entire emotional realities disconnected from the present moment. She encouraged recognizing when we’re in that illusion and gently bringing ourselves back. This shift isn’t always dramatic; often, it’s in the pause, the breath, the noticing and for me, distinguishing story from fact.
So much of leadership today asks us to know, decide, fix. But real leadership often means pausing, listening, and allowing space for emergence. When we can meet the unknown with openness rather than fear, we build resilience—and we create the conditions for others to do the same.
If you’re someone who’s finding yourself in the grey space between what was and what’s next, know this: you’re not alone. And there’s real strength in learning how to stay there, for event just a few more moments than you usually do.
Faye’s book, GPS to Self-Powerment, remains a touchstone for me—one I revisit often. If you’re curious about her work, I invite you to read it too.
"When we don’t fully experience our feelings, we can’t execute the actions that keep us balanced. When we reconnect to the place where we are fully immersed in experiencing our natural feelings, we are able to open to service, compassion, integrity, accountability, and courage. We experience the fullness of life and naturally express our gratitude for the ongoing gift of it."
— Faye Mandell, GPS to Self-Powerment