There’s a moment in leadership when the room goes quiet and all eyes turn to you. Not because of your title. Not because you asked for it. But because the moment demands it. You become the one they look to for clarity, courage, and action.
That moment is what I call the valley of death.
It can happen in your business, your health, or your relationships. It’s when pressure peaks and comfort disappears. It’s when plans break down and survival becomes the priority. No matter how experienced you are, those valleys never get easier.
Right now, we’re in one of those valleys again. Eleven years ago, I went through the same kind of season—cutting costs, letting people go, facing hard truths. That cycle has returned. But this time, something feels different. I’m not walking alone.
There are leaders in my business stepping up. They’re not loud. They’re not dramatic. But they’re present. They’re holding the line beside me. That support changes everything. Still, there’s a truth I’ve accepted: the founder always walks first.
You can’t delegate the final call. You can’t outsource responsibility. Even with the best team in the world, the weight sits with you.
The best way to lead through these seasons is to be ready before they arrive. Leadership in a valley isn’t just instinct—it’s preparation. It’s planning for what might go wrong. It’s rehearsing hard conversations. It’s thinking clearly so that when everything gets messy, you don’t fall apart.
You also see who your real leaders are. Who stands up in the middle of chaos? Who gets quiet? Who makes the load heavier, and who helps carry it? These moments expose everything.
There’s a phrase I’ve learned to live by: when the storm comes, don’t try to ride it out—turn and face it.
Bison do this. When a storm rolls in, they don’t run. They turn into it and charge. That instinct shortens the pain. It ends the storm faster. And it’s a mindset more leaders need.
Avoiding tough decisions only prolongs the pain. Postponing action doesn’t create safety. It creates confusion and fear. But when you face it—when you move quickly and clearly—people feel safer, even if the news is hard.
Right now, clarity is more important than charisma. People don’t need long speeches or hype. They need to know what’s happening and what’s next.
If you’re vague, people will fill in the gaps with fear. But when you're clear, you create stability. Even when you don’t have all the answers, the way you communicate shapes how people feel. It shapes whether they move forward or freeze in place.
Maybe that’s what leadership really is. Not the absence of fear or struggle, but being the one who turns toward the storm, not away from it.
Because even when the valley is deep, even when the outcome is uncertain, someone has to walk first.