Gravitas, Mindfulness & A Road That Should Win an Engineering Award
Getting to O’Reilly’s Rainforest Retreat for a client session on Gravitas was… well, let’s call it character-building. Has anyone been up there recently? That road is a gravity-defying, cliff-hugging, rock-dodging adventure. And I kept thinking, who on earth is approving the budget for this roadwork carved into the side of Mount Everest’s first cousin?
Once I arrived, though - magic! A fabulous group, a stunning retreat and brilliant outcomes. But something unexpected happened.
As an ex-Queenslander (please don’t hold it against me), I was hit with an almighty wave of nostalgia. I’d been here decades ago with my mother and sister, in a mini minor so underpowered I’m not convinced it legally qualified as transport. How we made it to the summit without being overtaken by hikers still astonishes me.
When we arrived, we’d watch the classic Groom Family history film, and without fail my mother would chirp: “We’re going on the 12km walk tomorrow!” You have never seen two children look less excited about 12km of anything. I’d whinge that it was raining, and my mother, bursting with rainforest devotion, would say, “You don’t feel the rain in the rainforest!”
Well, maybe she didn’t. I felt the rain. I also felt the leeches that hitched a ride home on my ankles. And the glandular fever that cut the holiday short. My sister, to this day, swears I destroyed every trip on purpose.
So coming back decades later, everything looked the same, film room, trees, leeches probably holding their own reunion. Even the accommodation felt unchanged, though of course it has. The funny part? My attitude felt unchanged too. I was standing in my room, arms crossed, inner 10-year-old scowling, when I literally burst out laughing and said:
“Grow up, Louise!”
Reader, I may never grow up. But I have learned how to change my mindset quickly.
From the Rainforest… to the Boardroom Jungle
Switch settings to our corporate boardroom training, and funnily enough, not much changes.
People under pressure tend to:
Fold their gestures inward
Clench their fists
Lock their elbows
Jam their breath
Stare like startled owls
It’s the human version of curling into a protective armadillo ball.
So what do we do?
We stretch, we breathe, we gesture, we find frameworks for long, panicked answers that go galloping off like wild horses. And then, like discovering the magical “on” switch, there’s joy.
Real joy.
Because it turns out communication skills aren’t inherited, they’re learned—and most people have never been taught the critical elements of body, voice and the frameworks that carry them.
Gravitas Isn’t New. It’s Ancient.
In his article, Transformational leadership and gravitas: 2000 years of no development? Chris Jackson reminds us that leadership today is remarkably similar to leadership in ancient Rome. The ancients called it self-awareness, self-development and self-control.
Today, we call it mindfulness.
Different name, same outcome:
Trust
Respect
Authority without arrogance
Once people try it, they light up:
“Louise… are you seriously asking me to move?”
Yes.
And when they do? Awareness is brought to all those old limiting habits.
Their voice opens, their presence sharpens, their ideas land. It’s like that moment in Star Wars:
“Here are the droids you’re looking for!”
Everything suddenly clicks.
Onwards, Upwards… and Currently Motionless
I’m writing this on a plane, which is sitting very still on a tarmac that claims we’re “only” 1.5 hours late. Once upon a time, I would have been huffing like a ten-year-old in wet socks.
But now?
I get to choose my attitude.
And I’m deeply grateful - for the teams who trust me, the leaders who are brave enough to stretch, and the road crew who are almost certainly dangling off a cliff somewhere making sure I can return to O’Reilly’s again… preferably without leeches.
Onwards and upwards.
Love,
Dr Louise Mahler