Last week I was on vacation—a truly relaxing week away from the typical weekly routine of coaching calls, strategic planning sessions, and the general chaos that comes with running a business. We rented a beautiful Airbnb on the Northern Neck of Virginia, perched along a peaceful creek that meandered its way to the mighty Rappahannock River. Our days were filled with the holy trinity of a perfect vacation: relaxation, good food, and time on the water.
Now, I should be upfront here—I am not what you'd call a "water person." I'm not a boater, sailor, and I'm barely more than a novice swimmer (think "enthusiastic dog paddle" rather than "graceful freestyle"). But despite my landlubber tendencies, I find time on the water to be absolutely rejuvenating. There's something about the gentle rhythm of waves and the expansive sky that hits the reset button on my soul.
My favorite activity from the entire week? The hours spent in the tandem kayak our hosts provided, paddling alongside my husband with our pup stationed as our four-legged first mate (and occasional navigator when a buoy was spotted suspiciously looking like her favorite ball in the water.)
Although this wasn't our first tandem kayaking rodeo, this time felt markedly different. Maybe it was the vacation mindset, or perhaps I was finally relaxed enough to stop white knuckling the paddle, but I felt far more open to the experience. Upon reflection—and yes, I'm the type who reflects on vacation activities because apparently, I can't turn off the coaching brain—I realized our kayaking adventure had taught me profound lessons about leadership and growth.
First, let me paint the picture of our dynamic duo: my husband is what you might call an "experienced boater" in the way that Mozart was an "okay piano player." Whether it's a kayak, motorboat, canoe, or sailboat, the man knows what to do and when to do it. He's the guy who can read currents like others read grocery lists and somehow always knows which way the wind is about to shift. In our little floating kingdom, he was undoubtedly our kayak leader.
Given weight distribution and his superior skills, he claimed the back seat—the steering position. But here's where it gets interesting: instead of turning our kayak into a one-man show, he often hung back, literally and figuratively, giving me space to learn, experience, and find my own way through the water. Even when my technique resembled something closer to "aggressive pond stirring" than actual paddling.
Three Key Leadership Observations
1. Great Leaders Create Safe Spaces for Skill Building
As we glided (okay, occasionally lurched) through the water, I noticed how my husband demonstrated the art of building skill and confidence. Rather than correct every wayward stroke or misguided direction, he gave me gentle guidance when needed and trusted the process when it wasn't. I had the space and time to make a misstep—or mis-stroke—see where it landed us and then make the appropriate correction myself.
When we started, my stroke was laborious and exhausting. I was working three times harder than necessary, creating lots of splash and very little forward momentum. With some light direction—"Try keeping the paddle closer to the kayak" and "Maybe don't stab the water like it owes you money"—I was able to find a stroke that was more comfortable and required less energy.
The magic happened when I could feel the difference myself. I experienced the awkwardness when my technique was off, and I felt the satisfying ease when I found a more comfortable rhythm. This self-discovery built my confidence far more effectively than any amount of instruction from the stern could have achieved.
The Leadership Lesson: The best leaders resist the urge to micromanage or constantly correct. They create environments where team members can experiment, make mistakes, and discover better approaches through experience rather than directive.
2. Strategic Patience Builds Stronger Teams
Now, let's talk about steering. Oh, the steering. I made mistakes—we're talking "accidental scenic route through the cattails" kinds of mistakes. My husband took it all in stride, mostly not even commenting unless we were genuinely headed for rocks or other nautical hazards. (Though I'm pretty sure I caught him suppressing a chuckle when I somehow managed to paddle us in a perfect circle.)
Like any great leader, he understood that building my skills was ultimately to his advantage. He already knew how to manage the kayak single-handedly and could have easily just taken me for a ride. But that approach would have been exhausting for him and limiting for both of us. What would happen on our next water adventure if the rental place only had single kayaks? Would I know what to do, or would I be stuck paddling in circles while he zoomed ahead?
By giving me the space to experiment and figure things out, he was investing in our team's long-term capability. When the current and wind conspired to make things genuinely challenging—requiring real teamwork—he was right there to guide me and dig in with more powerful strokes. But his default was patience, not takeover.
The Leadership Lesson: Effective leaders play the long game. They resist the short-term efficiency of doing everything themselves in favor of building their team's capabilities, even when it's temporarily slower or messier.
3. True Leadership Means Getting in the Trenches Together
The most powerful moment came when we hit some genuine challenges—wind picking up, current pushing against us, and our destination seeming to drift farther away with each stroke. This wasn't the time for learning experiments or patient observation. This was all-hands-on-deck time.
Without hesitation, my husband shifted into full teammate mode. His approach wasn't "let me take over" or "you're doing it wrong." Instead, it was "we've got this—let's power through together." He matched my stroke rate, called out a rhythm so we could paddle in sync, and dug in with the determination of someone who understood we were in this together.
His message was clear: I wasn't just along for the ride—I was a full partner in getting us where we needed to go. When the going got tough, he didn't sideline me; he elevated his own performance and helped me elevate mine.
The Leadership Lesson: The best leaders don't abandon their developmental approach when challenges arise—they step up alongside their team members. They become partners in problem-solving rather than taking over, maintaining their team's confidence while navigating difficulties together.
The Ripple Effect
As we finally reached our turnaround point and began the journey back, I realized something had shifted. My strokes were more confident, my steering more intentional, and my overall contribution to our little expedition more substantial. I wasn't just a passenger anymore—I was a true crew member.
This transformation didn't happen because my husband took control and directed every movement. It happened because he created the conditions for my growth: safety to experiment, patience with my learning process, and partnership when challenges required our combined strength.
Isn't this exactly what we hope to achieve as leaders? We want our team members to move from tentative participation to confident contribution, from needing constant direction to making independent decisions, from feeling like passengers to knowing they're essential crew members.
The beauty of great leadership, like great kayaking partnerships, lies not in the leader's individual skill but in their ability to develop and deploy the collective capabilities of the entire team. Sometimes that means hanging back and letting others find their way. Sometimes it means jumping in when the current gets rough. But always, it means believing in your team's potential and creating the space for that potential to flourish.
Reflection Question for Leaders: Think about a recent situation where you had the opportunity to either "take the paddle" and handle something yourself or give a team member space to learn and grow through the experience. What approach did you take, and what might you do differently knowing what you know now about the long-term benefits of patient, developmental leadership?
Take some time with this question. Like learning to paddle effectively, becoming a great leader is less about getting it perfect immediately and more about reflecting on your technique, adjusting your approach, and staying committed to the process of continuous improvement.
After all, the best leaders—like the best kayaking partners—understand that the journey is always better when everyone knows how to paddle.