The Kind of Leadership That’s Built in the Quiet: Reflections on The Law of Process

I’ve been reflecting a lot lately on something John Maxwell wrote—just one line, really:

“Leadership develops daily, not in a day.”

It’s one of those truths that settles in slowly. At first glance, it feels obvious. But the longer I’ve sat with it, the more it’s revealed.

Because it’s easy to focus on milestones. The big decisions, the visible wins, the new title or promotion. Those things matter, of course. But when I look back on the people who have shaped me most—leaders I’ve trusted, learned from, and remembered—it wasn’t a single moment that made them leaders. It was who they were, every day.

Leadership, at its core, seems to be something that is shaped in the quiet. In repetition. In habits and patterns and small decisions that most people don’t see. The kind of work that doesn’t ask for applause, but forms the kind of presence that others naturally lean toward.

When I consider the moments that have stretched me, they haven’t always looked or felt like growth at first. Sometimes, they’ve felt like missed opportunities, awkward conversations, or slow seasons when nothing seemed to be moving. But over time, those moments did something deep. They built capacity. They formed conviction. They made me more human.

I’ve Been Asking: How Do I Keep Growing in the Process?

It’s not a checklist. But there are practices that seem to help.

For me, it starts with building rhythms I can return to. Not rigid routines, but anchoring habits. A quiet moment at the start of the day. Reading a paragraph that stays with me. Holding space to think—especially when life feels full. These are the things that seem to shape the way I show up.

I’ve also noticed how important feedback is. Not just praise or critique, but honest reflection from people who know how to hold both grace and truth. There’s something powerful about letting others see where things are working and where they’re not—and choosing to listen before reacting. Some of the most meaningful growth I’ve experienced came through words I didn’t expect, and probably didn’t want, but needed to hear.

And I’m learning that this kind of leadership work is not meant to be done alone. Growth deepens in community. When leadership is shared and reflected back, when we remind one another that it’s okay to be in process. We’re all still becoming. No one graduates from growth.

Maybe That’s What Makes This So Real

There’s no shortcut. And that’s not the discouragement—it’s the invitation.

To keep showing up.
To keep learning.
To let the ordinary work do something extraordinary over time.

Some of the strongest leaders I know aren’t chasing the next stage. They’re tending to what’s right in front of them—slowly becoming more honest, more steady, more rooted.

And that? That’s the kind of leadership that stays.