The Star of our own emotional drama

Last week's blog post sparked many interesting conversations. I'm not surprised because Friedman’s work is very thought provoking. He calls upon us to dial up our own emotional regulation and makes it clear that we cannot calm a system we are emotionally dependent upon. He reminds us that leaders who mirror reactivity multiply instability. We cannot be the “hair on fire” type that injects angst when we should be the “eye of the storm” type that absorbs and deflects it.

I regularly hear from leaders that a generalized comment spoken to a large group of people provoked individual fear in many who thought the comment was aimed directly to them. I see a similar thing when I post a blog article and leaders tell me they think it was written about them.

We are always the stars of our own emotional drama.

We are always the stars of our own emotional drama.

I’ve come to think of this as more feature than bug. We see the world from behind our own eyes, so we instinctively assume that what others say or do is about us. In complex organizations, that instinct becomes exhausting. If we assume every comment is a veiled reference to us, we start constantly adjusting—softening or trimming our true belief—in order to calm the real or imagined reactions of others. We drift from leading to being managed by perception.

Marcus Aurelius called this out centuries ago: “I have often wondered how it is that every man loves himself more than all the rest of men, but yet sets less value on his own opinions of himself than on the opinions of others.”

“I have often wondered how it is that every man loves himself more than all the rest of men, but yet sets less value on his own opinions of himself than on the opinions of others.”

That is the opposite of self-authorizing leadership.

The Stoics went even farther in claiming their own agency. They refused to grant others the power to determine their emotional state. A Stoic would never say, “You made me angry,” or “You offended me.” If they were angry, it was because they chose to respond that way. If they were offended, it was because they allowed offense to take root.

Epictetus warned us: “Any person capable of angering you becomes your master.”

That is bracing language for modern leaders. If you can make me angry at will, you control me. If your email can hijack my peace, you own a piece of my nervous system. If a generalized comment can unravel me because I assume it was about me, then I have surrendered authority I should have kept.

“Any person capable of angering you becomes your master.”

This becomes even more corrosive when we assign motives to others. I once heard a parent at a school board meeting say, “You didn’t call off school in the bad weather last week because you don’t care about the health and safety of our kids.” The first statement was empirically true. School was not canceled. The second was almost certainly false.

It is in the assigning of motive that the real damage occurs.

When we assign motive, we convert disagreement into accusation. We turn a decision into a character flaw. And here’s the thing: the corrosive effect lands most heavily on the assigner. Once I decide you acted out of indifference or ego, I no longer have to wrestle with complexity. I no longer have to rumble with challenge. I no longer have to consider that reasonable people can weigh competing goods differently.

Self-authorizing leaders resist both temptations: they do not take everything personally, and they do not make everything personal. They stay connected without absorbing every anxiety in the room. They communicate clearly without chasing every interpretation. They act with conviction without surrendering their emotional agency.

Self-authorizing leaders resist both temptations: they do not take everything personally, and they do not make everything personal.

You cannot calm a system you are emotionally dependent upon. And you cannot lead well if others can “make you” anything.

The work is quieter than we expect—because it is internal. It is less about technique and more about nerve. Less about controlling others and more about governing self.

The storm begins—and ends—within us.

So before you respond to the next email, replay the last comment in your head, or assign motive to the next decision you disagree with, ask yourself:

• Am I reacting to the facts, or to the story I am telling myself about the facts?

• Have I surrendered authority over my emotional state to someone else?

• In this moment, am I leading the system—or starring in my own emotional drama?

The storm begins—and ends—within us.