Showing Up Steady When Work Is Messy

The first time a CEO left GitHub, my boss did too. I was Chief of Staff, and suddenly, everything I was building felt like it had been swept off the table.

I didn’t know what I wanted next. I wasn’t a manager yet. I had no roadmap, no safety net. But I did have a job to do—communicate a major org change, shepherd a new CEO transition, and support a team that had just been split up.

So I kept going.

I focused on what needed to happen that day, that week, that moment. Not for me, but for everyone else. I put my head down and moved through the work—not because I wasn’t affected, but because I knew others needed clarity even more than I did.

I wasn’t leading the room, but I was holding the room together.

That experience shaped me. It was messy, uncertain, and defining. It was the first time I realized that calm isn’t something you’re born with—it’s something you practice.

Learning to Be the Anchor

By the time it happened again—queue last month's CEO departure—I had grown. I was leading a team. People were looking to me for direction, not just execution.

This time, I wasn’t trying to hold it all in. I listened. I created space for my team to process the changes in their own ways. I asked questions instead of giving pep talks. I took the official narrative and translated it into something they could work with.

I didn’t need to have all the answers. I just needed to create the space for them to explore their own. It wasn’t performative. It wasn’t polished. But it was steady. And in that moment, that was what mattered most.

Practicing Calm, Not Performing It

I’ve always been more introverted. I process things quietly. But over time, I’ve come to see that the way I process—slowly, steadily, and with care—makes me a safe place for others to process too.

People experience the same event differently. That’s especially true in times of change. Some rush to solutions. Some sit in it. Some need space. Others need a sounding board. If I can help people make sense of what they’re thinking or feeling—if I can facilitate that reflection—that’s a huge win for me.

Calm isn’t about control. It’s about creating conditions where people can move forward with intention. It’s about being the one who notices the swirl, slows it down, and makes it navigable. It’s not passive. It’s active. And it’s deeply human.

The Work Beneath the Work

There’s always a swirl. It might be a reorg, a strategy shift, a personal transition. And every time, I come back to the same anchor: show up steady. Listen. Name the tension. Help others find their footing.

Because I’ve seen what happens when calm leadership holds the room together—even when the room doesn’t know what’s next.

And I’ve learned that sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is not tell people where to go—but help them feel ready to move.