We Are Just Visitors. Leadership and Impermanence.

Most leaders I work with behave as if they will stay.

As if the role, the influence, the position somehow belongs to them.

And to be fair - the system reinforces exactly that: targets, ownership, accountability, control.

But there is a different perspective that has been quietly challenging me for years.

A short passage, originally from Aboriginal wisdom and later quoted by Elizabeth II:

𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦.
𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩.
𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦, 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯, 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦…
𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦.

If you really let this land, it shifts something fundamental.

Because it questions a deeply ingrained assumption behind much of leadership behavior - that we are here to build, secure, and defend something that is “ours.”

But what if it isn’t?

What if leadership is not ownership, but stewardship?

Not “my team,” but a system I am temporarily responsible for.
Not “my success,” but an environment I help shape for a period of time.

That shift may sound subtle, but it changes how you show up. You listen differently, intervene more carefully, think longer-term. You become less attached to being right and more committed to what actually serves.

And one question starts to matter more than most metrics:

What becomes possible because I am here?

Do people grow, or do they shrink around me?
Does trust increase, or does politics intensify?
Do we create something meaningful, or just optimize for the next quarter?

Most leaders don’t lack intelligence or drive. What many lack is awareness of their own impermanence - and that creates a familiar pattern: control instead of responsibility, ego instead of contribution, short-term wins instead of lasting impact.

The uncomfortable truth is simple: none of us will stay.

Not in our roles, not in our organizations, not even in this life.

And if that is true, leadership becomes more precise.

You are here for a limited time. So what do you actually stand for? What do you want people to experience because of you? What do you want to leave behind - in people, in culture, in decisions that outlast you?

And maybe the most underestimated line:

… 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦.

In leadership, that doesn’t mean being soft. It means something far more demanding: caring enough to be honest, taking responsibility for the whole, making decisions that are not only effective but grounded, and treating people not as resources but as human beings in development.

You don’t have to become philosophical to apply this.

Just start with a simple shift: act like a visitor.

In your next decision, your next conversation, in how you use your authority. Not detached, but aware that your time - and your impact - is limited.

Because in the end, the question won’t be how much you controlled.

It will be much simpler:

What did your presence make possible?