Take more showers

My best leadership doesn't come from pushing harder

When I was the Head of English Learning at the Chinese International School in Hong Kong, I had a teaching partner who led Chinese learning. Between the two of us, we were doing genuinely interesting work—figuring out how Chinese and English literacy could be learned together. What needed to stay separate. What could be integrated.

I had just had a baby. I already had two other young kids at the school. My life was full. I didn’t have time for long walks or meditation retreats.

But I did shower every day.

That’s where I had my best ideas.

I’d shower before work and come in buzzing. “I had the best idea in the shower!” I’d tell my partner. Sometimes it was about parent education. Sometimes professional learning. Sometimes data we could collect to better understand how our students were learning.

After the third time I said this, she laughed.

“Sarah, you need to take more showers.”

She was right.

These days, I shower less often. Every other day. Maybe. But that’s still where my best thinking happens—in the steam and solitude.

Also, in the car, driving alone.

Sometimes on walks or runs—anytime I’m in motion, not forcing anything.

And first thing in the morning, in those few minutes before I get out of bed, when all the subconscious processing finally coheres into something usable.

What I’ve learned is this: my best work doesn’t come from sitting at my desk and cranking it out.

I’m susceptible to believing I should be able to brute-force my way through problems. Power through the to-do list. White-knuckle clarity into existence.

But that’s not just how my system works.

A few weeks ago, I was in a meeting with a division director I coach and her boss, the head of school. They were stuck. No clear right answer. Plenty of thinking already done.

At some point, the head of school turned to the division director and asked, “What do you do when you have a hard problem to solve? For me, I take a hike. But everyone’s different. What works for you?”

I was stunned. Truly stunned—to hear a boss ask that question.

My client paused. “Walking. That’s when I have my best ideas. But it gets dark so early now, and I can’t walk after work. I’m struggling to find time to move during the school day.”

“Okay,” the head of school said. “What would it take? How can I make that possible?”

My client looked at her calendar. “Wednesday morning I only have one appointment. If I could come in at 10:30 instead, I could get a walk in.”

“Great. Done.”

I walked out of that meeting thinking about what I’d just witnessed.

This wasn’t about accommodating a personal preference. This was organizational wisdom. The head of school understood that the clarity they needed would come from giving her team member space to think—not from pushing harder.

I suggested my client record voice memos on her walk. She texted me Wednesday morning: “24-minute voice memo, check.”

By Friday, they’d solved it.

I read an article recently about a cellist who plays an extraordinary instrument on loan to him. What struck me—maybe because my son plays cello—was how intimately this musician knows his instrument. He can feel what it needs. He and the cello are inseparable.

My instrument is me.

I want to know myself the way that musician knows his cello. To feel what I need. To understand what helps me think clearly and what gets in the way. That means showers and walks and those quiet morning minutes. It means learning how my system works. Trusting my intuition.

For a long time, I believed that what worked for other people should work for me. If something wasn’t working, I assumed I wasn’t trying hard enough.

But we’re all wired differently.

Food sensitivities. Hormones. Learning styles. The conditions we need to think clearly. It all matters.

One of my biggest barriers has been trust—trusting myself enough to say, “This is what I need.” Accepting that I’m allowed to work the way I work best.

It’s the same muscle as the food conversations. Being able to say, “I don’t eat that. I won’t eat that.” Not as a limitation, but as knowledge.

If you want me at my best, this is what my system needs.

Not everyone has a boss who will coach them to take the time they need. My client is lucky. Sometimes we have to coach ourselves. Sometimes it comes from a peer who says, “You need to take more showers.”

So here’s my encouragement.

You are the only one who knows what it takes for you to do your best work. Creating space to think clearly—to work from your strengths—isn’t selfish. It’s a gift to your kids, your team, everyone who depends on your best thinking.

Take more showers.

Walk.

Nap.

Throw the ball for the dog.

Figure out what works for you. Then build your life to include it.

🕊️

SAM

Idea incubator