Summary: There are moments in life when leadership does not arrive with a microphone, a title, or a strategy. It arrives in silence. Recently, watching the monks walking for peace stirred something deep within me. They moved slowly, intentionally, step by step, through a world that feels increasingly loud, divided, and restless. No speeches. No demands. Just presence. Just purpose. And yet, they moved people.
Dear All,
I felt it in my body before I could name it. A softening. Remembering. A glimmer.
In these difficult times, when so many are craving direction, certainty, and reassurance, I found myself thinking, “this is the leadership we long for.” Not louder, nor harsher. Never more forceful.
Yet, steadier. Kinder. More grounded in humanity.
For example, this walk for peace reminded me that many years ago, I had the privilege of studying with the honorable Thich Nhat Hanh. I spent time at his Plum Village monastery when he was still alive, and in 2000, I joined a powerful journey with 180 others to China. It was the first time Buddhist teaching was permitted again in mainland China in modern times.
That trip changed me.
I wrote a short piece called Tea with Thay (he was often simply called “Thay” which means teacher). It captured, for me, the feeling of sitting quietly, sharing tea, and learning without being instructed. There was no pressure. No performance. Just an atmosphere of deep attention and loving kindness.
And that was the teaching. It wasn’t about words. In fact, It was about the way he walked and the way he listened. And especially, about the way he paused before speaking.
His leadership came from alignment, head, heart, and gut moving together in coherence. People felt safe in his presence. Seen. Heard. Valued.
True Leadership Does Not Push; It Invites
I remember learning how, during the Vietnam War, Thich Nhat Hanh led a group walking slowly and mindfully down Fifth Avenue in New York. No shouting. No confrontation. Just quiet steps for peace. In the midst of conflict and deep national division, he offered a different kind of leadership, one rooted in presence, dignity, and loving kindness.
He was asked if he sided with the North or the South. His response was, “I am for The Middle.”
That image has stayed with me for decades.
And now, years later, I watch another group of Vietnamese monks walking for world peace across our country. It feels like a continuation of that same spirit. Different time. Different generations. Same intention.
Step by step. Silence as strength. Peace as purpose.
Watching them brought me right back to those earlier experiences.
They reminded me that leadership does not have to be loud to be powerful. In fact, some of the most transformative leadership happens in stillness.
They walk. People notice. Something shifts.
In our workplaces, our communities, and our families, we are surrounded by dissonance. The pace is fast. The expectations are high. The pressure to produce, decide, react, and respond never seems to stop. And beneath all of that, people are anxious, disconnected, and hungry for meaning.
We Are Not Craving More Authority; We Are Craving More Humanity
The monks aren’t selling anything. They aren’t trying to convince anyone. They are simply embodying loving kindness, one step at a time. And in doing so, they are modeling a pattern we desperately need to reclaim and pass on to the next generation.
Patterns Are Powerful
The patterns we learn early in life shape how we lead, how we listen, how we respond to conflict, and how we treat others. When we grow up in environments filled with stress, silence, or emotional distance, those patterns can follow us into our leadership roles. We become reactive, guarded, or disconnected without even realizing it.
New Patterns Can Be Learned
The monks are teaching a pattern of presence. A pattern of patience and a pattern of compassion.
Immediately, people feel it.
I watched as others paused, grew quiet, and softened just by witnessing them pass. No instruction. No agenda. Just a living example of what calm strength looks like.
The Leadership We Need Now
We need leaders who can slow down enough to listen and who can stay grounded in the middle of uncertainty. What we yearn for are leaders who understand that loving kindness is not weakness; it is wisdom.
When head, heart, and gut are aligned, we lead differently. We become less reactive and more reflective. Less defensive and more curious. We are then less focused on proving and more focused on connecting.
That’s what creates trust. It is what creates belonging.
Especially, it is what creates cultures where people can thrive.
I keep thinking about the future and what we are passing down. Not just skills and strategies, but ways of being. Emotional patterns. Relational habits. Ways of responding to fear and differences.
What if the pattern we chose to pass on was this one:
Walk gently. Speak thoughtfully. Act with compassion. Pause before reacting. See the human being in front of you.
Pattern Transformation Is Not Small; It Is Legacy Behavior
In a time of so much noise and disconnection, the quiet leadership of Thich Nhat Hanh all those years ago, walking slowly down Fifth Avenue for peace, and the Vietnamese monks walking again today across our country, remind us that transformation does not always come from force.
Sometimes it comes from presence. It comes from example.
And, it comes from a steady rhythm of footsteps grounded in purpose.
This is the leadership we crave.
And it begins, as always, with one mindful step at a time.
Namaste,
Sylvia Lafair
P.S. Leadership has many factors. Please call us at (570) 233-1042 for a complimentary discussion about how you can become a better leader in the workplace, at home, and in your relationships.
