Put Your Oxygen Mask On

Last week, I wrote about the power of pause — about slowing down long enough to let the dust of change settle.

This week, I actually did it. I went all in on self-care: IV therapy, a massage, a therapy session, nails done, the works. It wasn’t glamorous — it was necessary. And, maybe the biggest win of all, the puppy is finally down to waking up only once a night.

Somewhere between those small moments, I realized something important:
When I’m running on empty, my family AND my team can feel it.

And I see it everywhere right now — leaders juggling AI transformations, reorganizations, and nonstop pivots — all trying to move fast while staying steady. It’s impossible to inspire change when your nervous system is in survival mode.

When the velocity of change is high, everyone’s instinct is to protect. We tighten, we contract, we look out for our own corner of safety. Organizational change mirrors human biology: when stress stays high, systems conserve energy instead of adapting. Teams can’t innovate in fight-or-flight any more than our bodies can heal under constant strain.

My burnout and uncertainty had quietly become part of the system — the very thing slowing down the change I wanted to see. Sometimes leadership presence isn’t about the words we say, but the signal our energy sends. Authentic presence isn’t about staying calm — it’s about staying clear.

That old line about putting your oxygen mask on before helping others hit different this week. It’s not just self-care — it’s leadership hygiene. Because if my presence doesn’t say, “It’s safe to stretch,” then no amount of plans or pep talks will.

The more I study change, the more I see that every organization has a nervous system — and leaders are its heartbeat. When we regulate ourselves, we regulate the system. When we center, the organization centers. That’s not philosophy — it’s physiology.

Change doesn’t start with a plan.
It starts with presence.
That’s the real oxygen.

Something to sit with:
Where are you leading from depletion instead of presence — and what would putting your oxygen mask on actually look like this week?

Because this isn’t just about work. The same pattern plays out in our homes and families. When we’re stretched thin, everyone around us tightens too. Kids, partners, teams — they all pick up on our nervous systems before they ever hear our words. Presence is contagious, in both directions. When we regulate, others can exhale.

Next week: I’ve been thinking about pace — how to find the right velocity for change when everything (and everyone) is moving fast. Is the real leadership move not to speed up… but to slow down on purpose?