This past weekend, I had the immense privilege of spending two unforgettable days at AutoHACK—a dynamic Hackathon hosted by Georgian College in partnership with Honda of Canada Mfg., Georgian College Research & Innovation, and the Henry Bernick Entrepreneurship Centre. It was an energizing and inspiring experience, bringing together 130 bright, innovative minds from across disciplines, united in one mission: to solve meaningful real-world challenges and bridge the gap between advanced manufacturing and post-secondary education.

I’ll be honest—before stepping into AutoHACK, I didn’t know what to expect. Hackathons felt like a world apart from mine. But what I experienced this weekend fundamentally shifted something in me.

From the moment I walked into the space, the energy was electric. Students of all ages, educators, entrepreneurs, and industry leaders gathered with a shared purpose—each contributing their unique voice to the conversation. As a mentor, I came in thinking I was there to guide. But the truth is, I left with just as many lessons. I saw the kind of leadership we so often talk about but rarely witness: collaborative, vulnerable, and deeply human.

Over 26 intense hours, I watched students dive into challenges with contagious curiosity and unwavering focus. Teams co-created thoughtful, scalable solutions—not from ego or expertise, but from exploration. For many, this was their first experience in such a fast-paced, high-stakes collaborative environment. And yet, they showed up with grace, grit, and heart. It was leadership in motion—alive, messy, beautiful.

One of the biggest “aha” moments came when a student turned to me after a pitch and said, "Thank you for helping us get through that final moment—your coaching re-energized us and a shift in perspective helped us nail our pitch." That’s when it clicked. Coaching isn’t about having the answers—it’s about helping others uncover their own. And that moment—seeing their confidence bloom—is what I’ll carry with me.

Watching four of the teams I mentored make it to the finals was the cherry on top. But the real reward? Witnessing young leaders discover what they’re capable of.

To the passionate students, the brilliant minds behind Georgian College, and especially the phenomenal organizers—thank you for crafting an experience that brought leadership, innovation, and community to life. Special recognition to Caitlin Williams, Lauren Wild, and Brunilda Xhaferllari for your orchestration of something so impactful.

This experience couldn’t have come at a more meaningful time. I’m currently putting the final touches on my upcoming book, And so, a tree still grows, and I’ve been sitting with a question that won’t let me go: What does leadership really mean?

Through the lens of Japanese kanji, I’ve found profound insight. Take Shoshin (初心)—the beginner’s mindset. Sho means beginning; Shin means heart. Together, they reflect the openness and humility we need not only to lead—but to live. This mindset isn’t something we grow out of—it’s something we must return to.

In Japanese, resilience is more than a concept. It lives in the language itself. In every kanji that carries Kokoro (心, koko-lo)—heart—there’s a message: you don’t fight your way through hardship. You carry it. With grace. With dignity. With unwavering presence.

And that’s how I’ve come to see leadership—not as a title or destination, but as a way of being. One rooted in alignment, and carried through the everyday moments. Just like love, just like growth—it’s not something you perform. It’s something you embody.

Even the English word “leadership” carries a quiet truth we rarely consider. The root of “lead” comes from Old English lædan—to guide, to bring forth. Not to dominate. To move—with others, not ahead of them. And “-ship” from -scipe—the state or quality of being.

So leadership, at its core, means: The state of being one who guides. Not one who controls. Not one who has power over. But one who makes space, sets direction, and moves with purpose.

Perhaps leadership is less about having the answers—and more about creating the conditions where others can ask better questions. Less about proving—and more about becoming. Not a role. A rhythm. Not a performance. A presence.

And just like the kanji that carry Kokoro, the word "leadership" holds more than we think—if we’re willing to slow down and feel the weight of it.

Through my coaching and research, I’ve been witnessing something powerful: the best leaders are those who know how to dig deep into the heart of what brings them motivation. They learn to name it, trust it, and turn it into momentum—momentum that creates ripples of synergy in every space they touch.

To explore this further, I’m currently conducting a Leadership Perception Study. This project gathers reflections from people across backgrounds, roles, and identities to better understand how leadership is defined, rejected, and embodied in everyday life.

🌿 If leadership has meaning for you—whether you lead a team, a classroom, a community, or simply yourself—I warmly invite you to contribute to this 5-minute reflection:

🔗 Leadership Perception Study

Our goal is to gather 1,000 voices to co-create a new understanding of leadership—one that’s more human-centered, inclusive, and true to lived experience. Your reflections will directly influence future coaching programs, leadership development frameworks, and even the next chapter of And so, a tree still grows.

Let’s redefine leadership together—one story at a time. Your voice matters.

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