The Leadership Paradox of Growth

The Pool of Growth

Every generation faces its own kind of water.

For ours, it is not the ocean of survival our parents once swam through, but a pool of choices so wide that many no longer know where to begin. We are surrounded by knowledge, comfort, and simulation. Even learning to swim can now be done on screen. But until your feet leave the floor, the water will always remain theory.

That thought came to me on an ordinary Friday evening as I watched my children play with their cousins. Their laughter filled the house, their curiosity unfiltered. I realised that what gives me joy today is not how well they perform, but how willing they are to try. The same applies to my team. Their willingness to jump into deep water determines how far they will grow.

Recently, several of them decided to buy their first homes. I encouraged them to commit, to take that step of faith. Yet the moment their loans were approved, the pressure shifted to me. Their growth became my responsibility. I had challenged them to stretch beyond comfort, and now I had to help them learn how to float.

You cannot teach someone to swim by talking on land. You must get them into the pool, hand them a floater, and let them feel the weight of water pressing against the skin. Only then do theories about balance, breath, and movement make sense.

Leadership works the same way. We cannot grow by remaining safe. The pool must come before the confidence.

Ray Kroc understood this principle when he partnered with the McDonald brothers. They were efficient managers, but their leadership lid was low. Kroc jumped in without knowing exactly how deep the water was. He mortgaged his home, borrowed against his life insurance, and built one of the world’s most recognisable brands. As John Maxwell wrote in The Law of the Lid, leadership ability determines a person’s level of effectiveness. Kroc raised his lid by entering uncertainty, and in doing so, lifted everyone else’s potential.

True leaders are not those who wait until they are ready. They are those who learn to float before they can swim.

The House That Forced Growth

The idea of “float first, swim later” began to make sense the day my team signed their housing papers. On paper, it was a financial milestone. In reality, it was a spiritual test, for them and for me.

When someone buys a home, the world calls it ownership. I call it commitment. Commitment always changes the equation. The moment a person has something bigger than comfort to protect, priorities shift. A rented life teaches flexibility. A purchased one teaches stewardship.

At first, I thought the pressure was only financial. But what emerged was deeper: time management, emotional maturity, financial literacy, and the discipline of saying no to distractions.

And in the quiet of those early weeks, I questioned myself. Had I pushed them too far? Was I asking for faith when they still needed stability? Some nights I lay awake thinking about every loan letter and every promise I had spoken with conviction. Leadership can feel heavy when other people’s futures lean against your belief. I had to remind myself that faith without pressure never matures. The same heat that melts wax hardens clay. The same water that frightens you is also what teaches you to breathe.

In Chinese, there is a phrase, “松弛感”, a sense of ease, a state where time feels abundant. When life is light, every hour can be spent on preference. But the moment your 24 hours carry the weight of 100, the illusion of ease disappears. What enters next is chaos, the messy, awkward in-between where burnout meets breakthrough.

That chaos is necessary. Hair cannot be styled without first going through the awkward stage of growth. You cannot look sharp immediately after shaving your head. Likewise, no leader looks polished during transformation. There is always a period of imbalance before rhythm returns.

Malaysia offers its own picture of this paradox. Many young adults delay buying homes or starting families not because they lack opportunity, but because they fear commitment. Statistics show that the average age of first-time home buyers has risen above 35, and marriage rates continue to decline. Beneath the surface lies the same hesitation: “I will start when I’m ready.”

But readiness rarely comes before responsibility. Commitment is what creates capacity. When responsibility increases, capability follows.

The Law of Process explains this perfectly: leadership develops daily, not in a day. Like swimming, it is learned through immersion, repetition, and reflection. A floater helps at the start, but mastery only comes when the floater is removed.

The Messy Middle

Growth, at its core, is a mismatch between what you can handle and what you must.

When someone earns five thousand ringgit but carries eight thousand ringgit of responsibility, the gap forces resourcefulness. You learn to prioritise. You start cutting the unnecessary and improving the essential. You stop counting hours and start measuring value. This is where resilience is born.

In business, the same mismatch fuels innovation. The Toyota Production System began after World War II when resources were scarce. Instead of seeing limitation as failure, Toyota turned it into discipline. They called it Kaizen, continuous improvement. Over time, that constraint became their competitive advantage.

AirAsia tells a similar Malaysian story. When Tony Fernandes bought a struggling airline for one ringgit and inherited forty million ringgit in debt, he didn’t have readiness. What he had was belief. He floated first, learned the currents, and built a model that redefined low-cost travel across Asia. Today, AirAsia serves over 150 destinations with one of the highest aircraft utilisation rates in the world.

Education works the same way. Finland’s school system, often praised for excellence, was not built overnight. It emerged from decades of slow cultural shifts: trusting teachers, decentralising authority, prioritising depth over exams. Finland learned to float before it swam.

In Malaysia, the same journey continues. As we re-imagine education at Stellar, we are learning to balance structure and freedom. Systems keep us afloat, culture helps us swim.

The lesson is consistent across nations and industries: mismatch is not failure. It is the prelude to mastery.

When you feel overextended, it is not always a sign of burnout. Sometimes, it is evidence that your leadership lid is expanding. A muscle grows only through tension. An organisation grows only through discomfort. A leader grows only when reality exceeds control.

That is the messy middle, the part most people quit. Yet every great breakthrough, from personal maturity to corporate evolution, passes through this stage.

From Floating to Multiplying

Leadership eventually matures from self-mastery to multiplication. The goal is not to do more within 24 hours, but to extend what 24 hours can achieve through others.

In Chinese mentorship culture, we call it “带、陪、放”: guide, accompany, release. First you guide others through the process. Then you accompany them, working alongside as they struggle. Finally, you release them to lead on their own.

This is what I call discipleship legacy, the art of raising leaders who will outgrow you.

If one person performs at one hundred percent, the impact is one. But if you raise five people who perform at sixty percent, the combined impact is three hundred percent. The act of letting go multiplies the outcome.

At Stellar, this principle shapes everything we do. When a team member learns to organise an internal event, a town hall, a celebration, a training, it is not just a task. It is a micro-university of skills: coordination, budgeting, communication, stakeholder management, and emotional intelligence. Every event is a classroom for leadership.

Once they master it internally, they can replicate it externally, facilitating corporate team-building programs, running workshops, or even managing client events. The same three-day effort, once multiplied, becomes a source of both income and influence.

This is what Maxwell describes as the Law of Legacy: a leader’s lasting value is measured by succession. The best leaders do not merely execute excellence; they reproduce it.

Singapore’s Ministry of Education practices this principle at scale. Every decade, leadership is renewed through systematic succession. Each generation of principals and directors mentors the next. The system does not depend on one person’s brilliance but on an ecosystem of stewardship.

Apple did the same when Steve Jobs prepared Tim Cook. Culture became the floater that sustained the company long after the founder was gone.

In leadership, the moment you stop teaching, you start sinking. The act of passing knowledge keeps you afloat.

The Reverse That Redefines It All

There comes a point when the pool feels familiar. You know how to breathe underwater, how to move efficiently, how to stay calm even when the current shifts. But every new depth demands a new level of surrender.

That is when you remember: floating was never failure. It was preparation.

The world often tells us to wait until we are ready. But readiness is a disguise for fear. We fear responsibility, pressure, loss of comfort, and uncertainty. Yet every meaningful achievement, raising a family, starting a school, leading a team, begins long before readiness.

The opposite of readiness is not recklessness. It is courage.

Float first. Swim later.

Because the water that once frightened you will one day hold you.

Because growth does not come from control, but from trust.

Because every legacy begins the moment you step into the pool.

Wisdom in Simplicity

Growth begins with a mismatch.

Maturity begins with stewardship.

Legacy begins with release.

As Stellar continues to raise a generation of STARS: Self-Awareness, Teachability, Attitude, Relationships, and Significance, the same truth applies to each of us:

Leadership is not about waiting for still water.

It is about learning to float through the storm, trusting that what you once feared will soon carry you further than your feet ever could.

Float first. Swim later.

That is the paradox of growth, and the quiet courage that defines leaders who will outlast their own time.