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My Journal
Beyond the noise.
Articles and reflections on the future of leadership,
presence, and the courage to be human at work.


Leadership is facing a crisis it can no longer solve with strategy.
The real breakdown is happening in the human nervous system. The unseen architecture shaping modern leadership: the human nervous system. This is not a metaphor. It is the reality confronting organizations today. The systems we work within have outpaced the psychological capacity of the humans inside them, and the signals are everywhere: burnout, quiet quitting, rising conflict, declining engagement, and a noticeable crisis in people’s ability to stay grounded under pressure.


The old leadership model is collapsing. And so is the way we hire.
For decades, we selected leaders based on titles, achievements, pressure tolerance, and the ability to “perform” under stress. We rewarded the loudest person in the room. Today it’s breaking — quietly but unmistakably. Burnout. Nervous-system overload. Leaders who look successful on paper but feel empty inside. The world is not lacking talent. It’s lacking presence. We don’t need more people who can perform. We need people who can stay human in the noise. The next era of lead


The armors we wear.
I just finished watching Boots (based on The Pink Marine book) on Netflix, and it stirred something in me. The series left me wondering: Are we trying to discover who we really are — or are we fighting it? For years, I believed growth meant constant improvement. Fixing. Optimizing. Becoming a “better” version of myself. But over time — and through a lot of inner work — I’ve realized something different: We don’t transform by fighting ourselves. We transform by understanding w


What learning a new language taught me about leadership.
When I started coaching rugby for kids, I had to do it in German - a language I had to learn. My sentences were broken, some words were wrong, others completely missed (all that still the case). But here’s what happened: the kids still listened, played, learned, and grew. We won, we lost, but the lesson stayed with me: you don’t need perfect words to have an impact. It reminded me that leadership isn’t about polished speeches or perfect delivery. It’s about presence, honesty,


The Secret to Swimming - and Leadership.
Yesterday I was back training in the pool. Here’s the truth I rediscovered: you don’t get better by pushing harder. You get better by relaxing into the water. When your body is tense, you fight the water - and the harder you push, the slower you move. But when you release tension, breathe into rhythm, and let the water support you - you glide. Swimmers call it "the feel for the water". That moment reminded me: Leadership and life are often the same. Real breakthroughs rarely


The drawing wasn't perfect. And neither is Life.
The other day, my 7yo daughter picked up my work journal and drew in it. The old me would have gotten angry. This is my professional space. But then I realized: there is no separation. There is no work life and home life. There's just one life. She looked up at me and said: "But my drawing isn't perfect". And i told her: "It's perfect just the way it is. I love it." That moment hit me: We spend so much energy trying to keep things perfect, controlled, "professional". But the


Only winners get remembered. That's what we're told.
The gold medalist. The World Cup champion. The one on top of the podium. Second place? Forgotten. The losses, the near-misses, the heartbreaks - erased. That’s what society teaches us: Win at all costs. Perform. Stay strong. Don’t fail. But here’s the truth: Our true self remembers what the world forgets. The losses. The missed shots. The tears after the penalty shootout. The collapse under pressure. And it’s not weakness. It’s wisdom. Because when we stop hiding behind masks


My best ideas rarely come at my desk.
They show up when I’m swimming, running in nature, or sitting in a sauna. Moments when I’m alone, without screens, without noise. It’s almost ironic: we work harder and harder at our desks hoping for breakthroughs - but clarity often arrives when we step away. Not in the rush, but in the pause. I used to track every run with a GPS watch, checking my pace every 30 seconds. Now I often run without it. I tune in to my body, the rhythm of my breath, the sound of the forest. Somet
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