Growing from the Inside Out

05/05/2025. A beautiful number on the calendar. At first glance, just a string of digits. But meaning isn’t found in the number—it’s found in what we attach to it. My wife’s phone number, for example, is a random jumble of digits. Hard to remember. But I memorised it—not because it’s easy, but because it’s hers. Because what we love, we assign value to.

It’s funny—on a date like 05.05, I found myself reflecting on five layers of leadership. Coincidence? Maybe. But sometimes meaning isn’t given—it’s revealed. Like roots that were always under the surface, waiting for the rain to uncover them.

Numbers have no meaning until we attach them to something that matters. It’s like a melody with no lyrics—beautiful, but empty. Until memory or love gives it weight.

Tonight, it’s 10:36 p.m. I just finished a long meeting and stepped outside with my dog Loki. No kids with me tonight—but I hope I get to bring them out tomorrow. And when I say hope, I’m not making a plan. I’m confessing a truth: I hope I live to see tomorrow.

That kind of hope—it’s the oxygen of our soul.

Hope Is Not a Luxury. It’s a Lifeline.

If we believe life ends at death, then what’s the point? Fun? Fame? Food? Sure, you could say, “Just enjoy it while it lasts.” But if enjoyment is the destination, then why do the happiest moments still leave us feeling… hollow?

We’re built to crave more than comfort. We’re designed to need meaning.

That’s not philosophy. That’s biology—our bodies run on dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and endorphins. These chemicals reward us not just for pleasure, but for purpose. For meaning. For love. For hope.

If you’re a believer in God, then eternal life gives you a deeper anchor. If you’re not, purpose still gives you power. Because death isn’t the end. Impact is. And impact can echo beyond your lifespan. That’s what keeps me grounded.

When your heart breaks—and mine did yesterday—purpose helps you rise again.

Not all at once. Maybe just 70% today. But still, that’s movement. And sometimes we move forward not by pushing, but by serving, giving, or simply counting blessings instead of losses.

The Sunday That Broke Me (and What I Learned Anyway)

Yesterday, I lost my patience with my children. Not because of them, but because of the emotional residue I carried from a conversation that cracked me open.

It was Sunday. I was speaking with my friend Ryan. I didn’t expect it to go deep. But it did. Ryan is one of those friends who doesn’t entertain shallow waters for too long.

We began by talking about leadership—its weight, its loneliness, and its pain. Then we landed on the word strength.

I told Ryan, “The opposite of strength is not weakness. It’s the absence of strength.”

He paused. Then said quietly, “Exactly.”

That conversation didn’t end there. We talked about how in leadership, we don’t just tolerate weakness—we build around strength. And we learn to recognise the difference between someone being weak and someone who simply hasn’t developed strength yet.

There’s a world of difference between the two.

It’s like the difference between a seed and a dead branch. One still has life waiting to bloom. The other? It’s brittle, hollow, and done.

Many of us think we’re broken, when in reality—we’re just buried.

Strength is not loud. It’s not even visible most of the time. It’s the quiet endurance of showing up. The invisible decision to keep walking, when your legs scream to give up.

The Triangle of Growth: Strength, Maturity, and Perspective

Ryan and I drew an invisible triangle in our conversation.

• One corner is Strength.
• Another is Maturity.
• The third is Perspective.

And I realised something chilling.

You can have strength—but without perspective, it becomes pride.

You can have strength—but without maturity, it becomes instability.

The strongest people aren’t the ones who perform best under pressure. They’re the ones who carry perspective and maturity as weight-bearing roots beneath their strength.

You know what’s most frustrating? When someone with less talent, less intelligence, and less speed ends up with better results.

Why?

Because they had something we didn’t: they had roots.

The Blame Game and the Superstition Trap

This is when we turn to fate. Or luck. Or superstition.

People say, “Maybe I’m just not destined for more. Maybe my feng shui is off. Maybe I need a spiritual master to read my fortune.”

No.

You don’t need to change your destiny. You need to change your depth.

A tree doesn’t ask the wind for permission to grow. It roots itself deeper.

And when storms come, you don’t see it panic. You see it sway, and stay.

The Leadership Tree: 5 Layers That Bear Real Fruit

I’ve been building a model. A living tree. Five layers. Each one matters.

1. Roots – Inner Formation

This is your identity, your integrity, your hidden life. It’s what no one claps for. It’s stillness. Honesty. Reverence. “Create in me a clean heart”—not for public applause, but so I don’t rot from within.

“Guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.”

2. Trunk – The Process

The structure. The seasons. Vision that needs time. Leadership isn’t always quick wins. There’s a time to plant and a time to reap. The key? Don’t die in the planting season. And don’t compare your timeline to someone else’s harvest.

“The end of a matter is better than its beginning.”

3. Pruning – The Refinement

Painful, but powerful. Feedback, correction, failure. This is where iron sharpens iron. But remember: not all sharpening is helpful. Be careful who you let near your edges.

“A wound from a friend can be trusted.”

4. Fruits – The Visible Impact

By their fruits you’ll know them. Don’t talk about leadership—show it. Lead by serving. Lead by loving. Lead by multiplying.

“The greatest among you must be the servant of all.”

5. Sacred Rhythm – Daily Renewal

Gratitude. Reflection. Prayer. Rest. Self-examination. These are not extras. They are essentials—because without rhythm, even trees with strong roots will wither.

A Reverse Insight: Stop Fearing Weakness. Start Fearing Absence.

Leadership isn’t about being the strongest. It’s about showing up with a clean heart, a clear purpose, and a daily rhythm that keeps your soul alive when no one is watching.

Stop fearing weakness. Weakness is human.

Start fearing absence—absence of strength, absence of hope, absence of purpose.

Because in the end, we don’t lead to impress. We lead to impact.

And that means: the invisible parts of you—your roots, your motives, your honesty—matter more than your stage, your speed, or your strategy.

The Hidden Wellspring

When strategy fails, when accusations rise, when others misjudge you—you’ll need something deeper than systems. You’ll need a wellspring.

A truth that says:

“Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain.”

That truth keeps me from being swept away by the storms of disappointment. It reminds me: nothing is wasted if I stay rooted.

One Final Thought: Gratitude Is the Superpower

I lost my temper with my kids yesterday. I felt heartbroken. But today, within 24 hours, I found peace again.

Why?

Gratitude.

I have a roof over my head. Food on my table. A family to hug. A calling to wake up to. And a God who keeps me grounded.

Most people underestimate the power of simple things. But sometimes, the most powerful move you can make… is to whisper thank you, even when nothing feels right.

A Life Well-Lived Starts With One Decision

Not to control everything. But to choose—every single day—to lead from the inside out.

To let your roots grow deep. Your rhythms stay steady. And your fruit speak louder than your words.

Let your light shine. And don’t be afraid to be misunderstood.

Because the next generation isn’t watching your perfection.

They’re watching your integrity, your gratitude, and your hope.

So live today like your future self is watching.

Because he is.