The lake was quiet.
Almost no wind, almost no waves.
Just me, the paddleboard, and the stillness.

But even in that silence, I noticed something.
The board drifted. Slowly, almost invisibly. At first I thought it was the water. But then I realised—it was me. The tiniest of movements. Barely noticeable. Yet enough to change direction.

That’s when it hit me.
Life works the same way.

“Even when it feels like we’re still, we’re drifting toward something.”

 A default path. If we’re not intentional, life carries us to a shore we never chose. Sometimes that’s when we feel shipwrecked.

For years, presence was my biggest challenge. My life was a race: the next chapter, the next competition, the next big win. And while chasing the horizon, I missed the moments. The unrepeatable, irreplaceable moments.

Presence showed me something else too.
It’s not just about silence or calm. It’s about creativity.
When I’m fully here—even for one minute—my brain shifts. Ideas come without effort. Not tactical, not strategic. Deeper. Insights that make me stop and wonder:

“What does this moment want to teach me?”

The paddleboard gave me a final reminder.

When I moved—even slightly—it drifted. My survival brain switched on: “What’s happening around me? What’s the danger? What might pull me away?” But when I truly stilled myself, I didn’t move an inch. Only then could I be fully present.

And that’s the real power of presence in leadership.
It’s not about pushing harder or filling silence.
It’s about being so grounded in the moment that you can sense what the moment itself is trying to tell you.

Reflection for you:

• How often do you pause long enough to notice what the moment is whispering?
• And what might you discover if you let presence—not pressure—be your compass?

Love,
Laszlo