Leading by Listening: Rhythm, Energy, and Positive Leadership

There are days when leadership feels like a rush of motion — emails, calendars, demands, decisions. The pace accelerates, and we move with it. But beneath the surface of all this activity, there is always a quieter layer: a rhythm.

My recent Positive Leadership course at the University for Peace (UPEACE) helped me remember how to recognize it.

Leadership begins not with a plan, or a metric, or even a vision — but with presence.

The course invited me to listen again underneath the noise of tasks and timelines — to notice the rhythms that shape how we lead and live. We often imagine leadership as direction: setting goals, driving momentum, managing outcomes. But positive leadership asks a subtler question:

What energy do we bring into the systems we inhabit?

That shift — from managing performance to managing presence — reframed leadership for me. It is less about control than about rhythm:  the ebb and flow of awareness, connection, and meaning through time.

Listening for Rhythm

Henri Lefebvre, in his Rhythmanalysis, wrote that every space carries its own pulse — its repetitions and variations, its silences and surges. The city breathes through its traffic and stillness; the body through its circadian tides.

Positive leadership, seen through this lens, becomes a kind of rhythmanalysis — a discipline of attention. It calls us to attune to the living tempos of our work and relationships, to sense when we are in harmony and when we have fallen out of tune.

The course began with this act of listening. We mapped our values, charted our daily energy, and reflected on what gives us vitality and what drains it. Through Simon Sinek’s Start with Why, we traced the pulse of purpose within our professional lives.

Meaning is not an abstraction — it is what sustains motion over time.

When I began mapping my own day, I saw patterns I had ignored: the quiet hours when creativity peaks, the lulls that invite rest, the shifts between solitude and connection.

As one fellow student put it:

“Positive leaders look for lasting impact from sustainable energy, not constant effort.”

Leadership, then, is not about enforcing a steady tempo; it is about composing harmony among these rhythms — the personal and the collective, the urgent and the reflective, the doing and the being.

Leadership as Energy Ecology

Much of what we call leadership is really about studying energy distribution — how attention, trust, and motivation circulate through a system.

Psychological safety, for instance, is not only an emotional condition; it is an energetic one. When people feel safe, energy expands — ideas flow, collaboration deepens, risk-taking becomes generative. When fear or cynicism take hold, energy constricts.

This is where positive leadership differs from the merely productive. It is not about maximizing output but optimizing flow — creating the conditions in which energy replenishes rather than depletes.

The course grounded this in Martin Seligman’s PERMA model of well-being:

  • Positive emotion sustains hope.
  • Engagement anchors us in flow.
  • Relationships generate resonance.
  • Meaning aligns us with purpose.
  • Accomplishment gives cadence and closure.

Together, they form the architecture of flourishing — a living, breathing rhythm that holds both effort and renewal.

To lead positively is to become a rhythmanalyst of well-being: sensing where energy moves freely, where it stagnates, and how small, intentional shifts — a pause, a genuine question, a gesture of care — can restore equilibrium.

When Rhythm Is Broken

Of course, most of us do not work in environments where this rhythm comes easily.  Many of us have known workplaces where urgency overrides reflection, where performance outweighs presence, where people speak carefully rather than honestly.

This is not a failure of individuals — it is a failure of culture.

Psychological safety, we learned, is not simply “nice to have.” It is the precondition for creativity, collaboration, and adaptability. Yet it might be rare. To question, to dissent, to ask for alignment — these acts often feel risky.

Most of us have been in rooms where silence seems safer than contribution.  Where we sense a misalignment between the stated mission and the lived reality — and do not feel permitted to name it.

This course did not pretend otherwise.  It acknowledged that positive leadership often begins in tension — between how things are and how they could be.

To lead positively is not to ignore these fractures; it is to notice them — and then act in ways that widen the space for honesty, curiosity, and care.

Sometimes that means asking a different question.
Sometimes it means slowing the tempo when everyone else is speeding up.
Sometimes it means being the first person in the room willing to say, “We’re out of rhythm. Can we listen again?”

Positive leadership does not assume the rhythm is already healthy.
It creates the possibility for harmony to emerge.

The Sound of Integrity

One question echoed throughout the course:

Why should anyone be led by you?

It’s deceptively simple — and profoundly clarifying.  My own answer emerged through five values: communication, equity, service, kindness, and growth.  They form the chord through which I live and lead.

Leadership, I came to see, is not about volume but tone — not how loudly one speaks, but how well one listens.  Integrity, in this sense, is resonance: the alignment between belief, action, and presence.

When tone matches intention, people feel it.  The room steadies.  Energy gathers.  Positive rhythm returns.

Rhythm as Reflection

In Lefebvre’s terms, the rhythmanalyst is both participant and observer — immersed in the pulse of life yet aware of its pattern. The same is true of leadership.

The leader listens: to the tempo of meetings, to the pauses between ideas, to the subtle signals of fatigue or enthusiasm.

They adjust — slowing down where reflection is needed, accelerating when momentum builds, recognizing that renewal often begins in rest, not speed.

Leadership, reframed this way, is not control but choreography.

Toward a Rhythmic Practice

The course concluded with a Personal Leadership Plan — a living score for the symphony of one’s work.

For me, that plan centers on advancing The Geographical Imaginations Expedition & Institute toward nonprofit status — a project that, like a rhythm, has unfolded over time, layering inquiry, storytelling, and community engagement.

Yet beyond that plan, what remains is a practice:
to manage energy, not time;
to listen before leading;
to treat each day as both composition and improvisation.

Leadership, I’ve come to believe, is less a position than a rhythm — one that must be tuned and re-tuned, like an instrument in ongoing rehearsal.

Coda: Leadership as Listening

Lefebvre urged rhythmanalysts to “listen — listen to your body, to the city, to the world.”

Positive Leadership is that same act of listening applied to human systems.

It is rhythmanalysis in motion: sensing where harmony falters, where renewal is needed, where silence itself becomes a form of care.

If Regenerative Leadership taught me to see systems as living ecologies, Positive Leadership taught me to feel their pulse.

To lead, then, is not to command, but to listen into coherence — to transform effort into ease, intention into flow, and attention into presence.

Leadership, at its best, is rhythm made visible: a steady hand, a compassionate ear, and the courage to pause.  The work is not easy — but it is necessary. Because every culture we inherit was once constructed, and every rhythm can be rewritten.

Regeneration as Leadership, Leadership as Regeneration

Some courses give you tools. Others give you perspective. This one offered both — but, more importantly, it offered a pause.

In studying Regenerative Leadership with the University for Peace (UPEACE), I came to see that regeneration is not, at its core, about projects, outputs, or even systems. It begins somewhere deeper: with consciousness. With how we see, how we listen, how we relate.

We tend to equate leadership with direction: setting strategies, assigning roles, measuring results. These matter, but they are not the heart of regeneration. What regenerative leadership asks is different:

  • Can you slow down enough to see the whole system?
  • Can you suspend assumptions long enough to imagine alternatives?
  • Can you listen deeply enough to hear what is not yet being said?
  • Can you act with courage, not just certainty?

This shift in emphasis — from controlling to cultivating, from planning to perceiving — is what makes regeneration different from sustainability. It calls us to work not only on external structures but also on the inner operating system of people and communities.

Regeneration as Spatial Practice

What struck me most is how this work is not only temporal but spatial. Regeneration requires creating the spaces — physical, social, and symbolic — where new ways of seeing and acting can emerge.

Henri Lefebvre reminded us that space is not neutral; it is produced. Regenerative leadership echoes this insight. It is less about imposing blueprints and more about co-producing spaces of possibility. Spaces where trust can form, where silence can hold meaning, where imagination can stretch.

A workshop circle, a classroom, a village square, a Zoom call — these are not just “settings” for regeneration. They are living spaces, continually produced and reproduced through dialogue, practice, and power. To lead regeneratively is to attend to how these spaces are held, how they invite, how they constrain, and how they can be reimagined.

Regeneration as Liberatory Pedagogy

Here, critical pedagogy offers a vital reminder: education is never neutral. As Paulo Freire argued, it either domesticates or liberates. Dialogue, in this view, is not a technique but a stance — an encounter that affirms human dignity and makes space for learners to name their own reality.

Regenerative leadership, understood through this lens, is a liberatory practice. It resists the “banking model” of leadership — where solutions are deposited by experts — and instead insists on co-creation. It seeks not only sustainability but emancipation: to free people and communities from the limiting stories and structures that keep them from imagining alternatives.

Liberatory pedagogy also reminds us that spaces are contested. Who speaks, whose knowledge counts, whose silence is overlooked — these are questions of power. Regeneration cannot ignore them. To practice regenerative leadership is to surface these dynamics, disrupt domination, and create conditions where power is shared and agency is restored.

Weaving Quadrants, Co-Producing Space

One of the frameworks we studied suggested that regeneration unfolds across four quadrants:

  • the personal interior (mindset, values, purpose),
  • the personal exterior (behaviors, skills),
  • the collective interior (culture, shared vision), and
  • the collective exterior (systems, strategies).

Leadership, then, is the weaving together of these quadrants — tending to both the inner and outer, the personal and collective.

This weaving is a liberatory act of space-making. Every dialogue is a space produced. Every story is a re-mapping of possibility. Every collective reflection is a chance to reimagine power.

To lead regeneratively is to practice leadership as both spatial and pedagogical: shaping the conditions where people can not only adapt but also liberate themselves — from limiting mindsets, from unjust systems, from imposed futures.

Mindset as the Deepest Space

Donella Meadows reminded us that the deepest leverage point for system change is not policy or money — it is mindset. The stories we inhabit shape the spaces we live in. Change the story, and the space shifts.

This is where regeneration becomes both ecological and liberatory. It is about restoring ecosystems and economies, yes — but also about restoring the freedom to imagine, to name, to act. It is about cultivating relational spaces where people can encounter one another differently — and from that encounter, act differently.

Regenerate

I leave this course with new tools, yes — but also with a renewed sense of responsibility: to practice leadership as a regenerative and liberatory act of space-making.

To restore, reconnect, reimagine — and to liberate.
Not just for organizations.
Not just for projects.
But for the very spaces in which we live, learn, and become together.

The Second Book of Rhythms

This is a proposal for The Second Book of Rhythms.

Overview: Building on the success and enduring influence of The First Book of Rhythms, The Second Book of Rhythms will deepen and expand Langston Hughes’s exploration of rhythm as a universal and unifying force in nature, art, and everyday life. Whereas the first book introduced young readers to the omnipresence of rhythm in the world around them—spanning everything from the growth patterns of plants to the beats of music and the flow of rivers—this sequel will take a more nuanced, layered approach. The Second Book of Rhythms will explore how rhythm intersects with memory, identity, social change, and technology, inviting readers to engage with rhythm not only as a concept but as a lens through which to interpret and reshape their world.

Objectives: The Second Book of Rhythms aims to:

  1. Expand the Conceptual Boundaries of Rhythm – Moving beyond foundational understandings of rhythm as patterns and cycles, the book will delve into rhythm’s role in shaping memory, language, identity, and community.
  2. Introduce Complex Rhythmic Patterns and Variations – Through the inclusion of syncopation, asymmetry, and cultural variations in rhythm, the book will reveal how rhythm can be both ordered and unpredictable, reflecting the complexity of the modern world.
  3. Promote Rhythmic Awareness as a Tool for Social and Personal Insight – By encouraging readers to recognize rhythms in language, social structures, and history, the book will emphasize rhythm’s role in building empathy, understanding diversity, and fostering change.

Outline of Contents:

  1. Rhythms of Memory and Tradition
    • This section will explore how rhythms can carry memories and histories within cultures and individuals. From the chants and songs passed down through generations to the rhythmic gestures of family traditions, rhythm serves as a vessel for memory. By presenting rhythm as a kind of “living archive,” the book will introduce young readers to the idea of heritage and the ways in which rhythm keeps our pasts alive in the present.
  2. Rhythms of Language and Storytelling
    • Language has its own rhythms—of speech, silence, repetition, and even body language. This chapter will delve into the patterns within spoken and written language, exploring the rhythm of storytelling, poetry, and dialogue. It will draw connections between rhythmic techniques like rhyme, meter, and cadence, and will encourage readers to listen for rhythm in conversations, stories, and their own thoughts.
  3. Urban Rhythms: The Beats of the City
    • Inspired by Hughes’s own experiences in vibrant, rhythmic urban centers like Harlem, this section will explore the distinctive rhythms of city life. From the patterns of footsteps on a crowded sidewalk to the sounds of subways, street vendors, and traffic lights, urban spaces pulse with complex, overlapping rhythms. Readers will be encouraged to observe these patterns and think about how urban rhythms shape individual and collective experiences.
  4. Rhythm and Identity
    • This chapter will present rhythm as an expression of identity, both personal and collective. Just as each person’s heartbeat or walk has a unique rhythm, so too do communities have their own shared rhythms in the form of rituals, festivals, and celebrations. Through examples from diverse cultural practices, this section will help readers consider how rhythm reflects who we are, both as individuals and as part of larger groups.
  5. Rhythms of Social Change
    • Rhythm is often a force for solidarity and resilience, as seen in protest songs, marches, and chants that drive social movements. This section will explore how rhythms—whether the steady beat of a march or the rousing cadence of a spoken word performance—help groups to unify and create change. By examining the rhythms of social change, the book will inspire young readers to think about the ways rhythm can be a tool for speaking out, standing together, and fostering hope.
  6. Rhythms in Technology and the Digital World
    • New technologies bring with them new rhythms, from the pace of data streaming to the rhythms of social media notifications. This chapter will introduce readers to the digital rhythms that shape modern life, encouraging them to notice the repetitive patterns of technology use and its impact on their own lives. The section will also touch on rhythms in modern innovations like coding, robotics, and artificial intelligence.
  7. Nature’s Subtle and Hidden Rhythms
    • In The First Book of Rhythms, Hughes celebrated visible rhythms in nature. Here, we’ll turn to the subtler, less perceptible rhythms—those of microscopic organisms, genetic cycles, and chemical reactions. With simplified explanations of biological rhythms, like circadian cycles, and geological rhythms, like tectonic shifts, this section will inspire wonder about the rhythms underlying all life and earth processes.
  8. Global Rhythms and Musical Diversity
    • Recognizing the diverse musical and dance traditions around the world, this chapter will celebrate the variety of rhythms that define different cultures. From Brazilian samba to Indian tabla beats and Irish reels, the book will introduce readers to rhythms that may be unfamiliar to them, cultivating an appreciation for cultural diversity through rhythmic expression.
  9. Everyday Rhythms: Finding Harmony and Balance
    • The final section will return readers to the rhythms of daily life, reminding them of the importance of finding their own balance and harmony. Whether it’s establishing a steady rhythm in their routines or recognizing the importance of rest and change, this chapter will encourage readers to see their own lives as rhythmic, flowing between periods of activity and reflection.

Format and Illustrations: Following the style of The First Book of Rhythms, The Second Book of Rhythms will feature simple, elegant illustrations that reflect the themes of each chapter. Illustrations will be designed to highlight rhythmic forms, with visual representations of cultural symbols, urban landscapes, nature’s cycles, and digital flows. The artwork will visually echo Hughes’s message, using recurring shapes and patterns to underscore the universality of rhythm while embracing the diversity of its expressions.

Pedagogical Approach: The Second Book of Rhythms will use accessible language to communicate sophisticated ideas, much as The First Book of Rhythms did. Exercises, prompts, and questions at the end of each chapter will encourage young readers to apply their understanding of rhythm to their own lives, fostering both reflection and observation. These interactive components will reinforce the book’s message that rhythm is not merely something to learn about but something to experience, notice, and create.

Target Audience: Though designed primarily for middle-grade readers, The Second Book of Rhythms will appeal to anyone with an interest in Hughes’s work, rhythm, or cultural studies. Its interdisciplinary approach makes it suitable for classroom use, spanning subjects such as literature, social studies, environmental science, and music. This book will be particularly valuable for educators aiming to foster mindfulness, cultural awareness, and appreciation for the interconnectivity of life.

Conclusion: The Second Book of Rhythms will continue Langston Hughes’s exploration of rhythm as a thread that weaves through every part of existence. By guiding readers to look for rhythm in new places—in their own memories, in social movements, in technology, and in cultural diversity—the book will extend Hughes’s legacy, inspiring new generations to see themselves as part of a vast, rhythmic world.

Through the Monk’s Mountain: The Almkanal Tunnels

My fascination with the Almkanal only grew more with a tour of the Mönchsberg, or Monk’s Mountain, tunnels with Almmeister Wolfgang Peter on the evening of Tuesday, September 22.  Construction of this 400 meter tunnel dates back to 1136 to 1143 when the Archbishop wanted to bring water to the protected St. Peter’s Monastery and Church on the other side of the mountain, in the heart of the Old Town of Salzburg.  For 3 weeks each September the Almkanal waters are lowered in order to conduct the necessary annual repairs.  Tours of the tunnel take place then.

Tunnel 1

Tunnel 2

Tunnel 3

 Tunnel 4