Leadership Rooted in Belonging
Not authority. Not control. But care. Presence. Trust.
dear friend,
Somewhere along the way,
we were taught that leadership meant standing at the front.
Knowing more.
Speaking louder.
Being certain, even when we weren’t.
But what if leadership didn’t mean holding the answers—
but holding the space?
What if the strongest leaders didn’t lead through fear,
but through trust?
This is something I’ve had to unlearn.
The idea that to lead meant to control.
To stay sharp.
To stay ahead.
To manage everything, even at the cost of my own presence.
But that version of leadership always felt tight.
Draining.
Disconnected.
And somewhere along the way, I started asking:
What would it feel like to lead from belonging?
To lead from a place where I don’t have to pretend I know everything—
but where I know I’m with others
who are walking the path too.
Here’s what I’ve found:
True leadership begins where control ends.
Where listening begins.
Where presence becomes the strategy.
And where trust isn’t earned through performance—
but offered through consistency.
Compassion.
Care.
The best leaders I know don’t make you feel small.
They make you feel safe.
They don’t steal the light—
they warm the room with it.
In a world that glorifies speed,
this kind of leadership is slow.
Quiet.
Sometimes invisible.
But it’s felt.
You feel it in the way someone checks in—not to correct, but to understand.
You feel it in the way they pause before answering,
because they’re actually listening.
You feel it in the way they show up again,
even when things are uncertain.
Heliogenesis has taught me this, too:
The sun doesn’t force anything to grow.
It just shows up.
Consistently.
Generously.
Quietly.
That’s the kind of leadership I want to grow into.
Not extractive.
Not performative.
Not afraid to say, “I’m not sure—let’s figure it out together.”
So if you’re in a position of leading anything—
a project,
a team,
a family,
or even just yourself—
Maybe ask this:
How can I create belonging here?
How can I make safety part of the structure?
How can I be the kind of steady light
that others can grow under?
Because the world doesn’t need more perfect leaders.
It needs more present ones.
with steadiness and care,
Malte
P.S.
Next week, I’ll write about rhythm and rest—
and why the leaders of tomorrow won’t be the fastest,
but the most attuned.
Let’s talk about cycles, silence, and the wisdom of knowing when not to push.