Why Presence Might Be the Most Underrated Leadership Skill
A Driving Lesson That Stayed With Me
A few years back, Regan was learning to drive.
Like every Oregon teenager, she needed to log a hundred hours behind the wheel before getting her license. We'd often head to Jamba Juice as our destination because it gave her driving time and gave us time to chat about life, work, the bakery and everything in between.
I love spending time with my daughter. And freak of nature that she is, she actually likes spending time with me too. Even now, as an adult, we take annual mother-daughter trips together. Some of my favorite memories have happened in airports, on road trips, and sitting across from her at a restaurant talking about life. Our next trip we are heading to Winnipeg just because she want to visit the middle of Canada and that seemed like a good place to go.
One day we were sitting at a stoplight, her driving, and she was thinking out loud. The next light. The lane change after that. The turn coming up. What drink she was getting. She wasn't anxious. She was simply trying to think through everything at once. And I remember saying something like:
"Drive minute by minute."
Be at this intersection. Not the one three lights from now. You can't safely drive the whole trip at once. You can only drive the piece of road you're on. When you get to the next intersection, you'll handle that one.
At the time, it was a driving lesson. But over the years I've realized it applies to so much more than driving. It applies to life. And leadership.
The Lesson I Needed Again
The funny thing about lessons is they have a way of coming back around.
Just this morning, I did what I would call a California stop - the slow roll that feels like a stop but isn't actually a stop. I live six blocks from the bakery. Six blocks. I've driven that route hundreds of times. This morning I saw the car on my left. I saw it. And I went anyway. It wasn't reckless. I wasn't running late. I wasn't being aggressive. I just wasn't fully there.
My body was driving the car. My brain was already at the bakery. Production. Meetings. Problems. Questions. The day hadn't started yet, but mentally I was already hours ahead. The other driver gave me a little "really?" wave. Fair.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I caught myself thinking: That's not who I want to be. Not because of the driving mistake. Because of what caused it. I wasn't present. I was already living three intersections ahead.
Presence Is Harder Than It Sounds
The older I get, the more I realize how difficult presence actually is. Most of us aren't distracted because we don't care. We're distracted because we care about everything. The business. The kids. The bills. The future. The next project. The next problem. The next decision.
Our minds are constantly pulling us forward. And while there's value in planning ahead, there is a cost when we're never fully where our feet are.
That's true in leadership. And it's true in relationships.
The Feedback That Changed Me
When I was twenty-three, I worked at a furniture store. One day my boss pulled me aside and said something like: "You don't really listen to customers. You talk at them or over them. It's like you've already decided what you're going to say before they finish talking."
He wasn't mean about it. He was kind. And he was right.
At twenty-three, I thought being a good communicator meant having the answer. I thought if I could respond quickly enough, sound smart enough, solve the problem fast enough, I'd be valuable. So while people were talking, I was busy preparing my response.
I wasn't listening. I was rehearsing.
That conversation changed me. Not overnight. But it planted a seed. And over the years I've realized how often presence starts with listening. Actually listening. Not waiting for your turn. Not formulating your response. Not making their story about you. Just listening.
The People Who Made Me Notice
Years later, while serving as executive director of The Clara Jean Foundation, I worked with several incredible people. One of them was a naturopath on our board. To this day, I remember how she made people feel. When she spoke with you, you felt heard. Not listened to. Heard. She wasn't waiting to respond. She wasn't multitasking. She wasn't looking for the next thing.
She was simply there. Fully present. And people could feel it. I wanted to be more like that. Especially when life felt chaotic. Especially when I was juggling events, volunteers, fundraising, and a hundred moving pieces.
She never taught me a lesson about presence. She simply modeled it. And I noticed.
What Leadership Looks Like Now
These days, I see this lesson show up everywhere. When a team member comes to me with a problem, my instinct is still to solve it. I'm working on asking one more question instead.
When I'm teaching Sunday School, I'm learning to let silence do its job. The silence is often where people think. The silence is often where people find their own answer.
When someone is telling me about their day, I'm trying not to jump ahead to my story. I'm trying to stay in theirs. Not perfectly. Just better than I used to.
Because people want to feel seen. They want to feel heard. They want to know they matter.
And presence is one of the ways we communicate exactly that.
Why This Matters To Me
The older I get, the more I realize how much of life happens in ordinary moments.
The drive to Jamba Juice. A conversation around the dinner table. A customer standing at the counter. A team member asking a question. A Sunday School discussion.
Most of life isn't the big milestones. It's the small moments that eventually become memories. Those driving lessons with Regan weren't really about driving. They were about time together. Conversations. Questions. Connection. She's an adult now, and I treasure those memories more than I can explain. And maybe that's why this lesson has stayed with me.
Because being present isn't just a leadership skill. It's one of the ways we show people they matter. One of the ways we show love. And the truth is, we don't always get a redo. We don't always get another conversation. Another drive. Another chance to ask one more question or listen a little longer.
Decades and Minutes
Leadership pulls me in two directions.
Part of me is always thinking about the future. The business I'm building. The leader I'm becoming. The goals I want to accomplish. The life I want to create. That matters. You need the long view.
But you can't live your whole life in decades.
You also have to live the minute you're in. Because one day those ordinary minutes become the things you remember.
The future is built minute by minute. Leadership is lived minute by minute. Relationships are built minute by minute. Life is happening minute by minute.
And if we're always focused three intersections ahead, we risk missing the one we're standing in.
Before You Go - A Challenge
Pick one conversation today. It could be with your team. Your spouse. Your child. A customer. A friend.
Try this:
Don't draft your response while they're talking.
Ask one question before offering your opinion.
Let there be a beat of silence.
That's it. One conversation. One pause. One moment of attention.
Because intention points us in the right direction.
But attention is where the moment actually lives.