Letting Go of the Crown

// The Grip

On Friday last week, I went to a networking event at the BIC - the Bournemouth International Centre and it was where the current crop of recent graduates were having their graduation ceremony - Bournemouth University were running an event for businesses to bestow the virtues of working with the University and I was invited - it was a 'VIP' lunch.

I turned up early.. I got there 15 minutes before I was supposed to and couldn't find the room, when I walked in - there was no-one else there (apart from the organisers) and I had to grab a coffee and wait.. wait for the other guests..

I used to think the job of networking and meeting people was to own the room. I mean that I though you needed to walk in, take control and prove you belong there.

Becuase that’s what good leaders do, right? That’s what confident people do.

I don't think that works nowadays - the more I try to own rooms - client meetings, creative sessions, shoots - the heavier I feel - I'm carrying a weight of expectation and being the 'voice' of everything. I used to always be the one that was talking more than I was listening and I think it kind of felt like I was holding on tighter to the way things should be, when what the moment really needed was space.

Somewhere along the way, I thought that leadership is a performance.

In those moments of calm before everyone arrived and before the event started on Friday, I looked back at how I'd coped with events in the past and how I'd need to be shaking hands, grabbing the limelight and that’s when it clicked - I didn’t need to own the room, I needed to host it.

// The Table

The best analogy I could come up with to describe the way that it works was to think about the difference between owning a restaurant and hosting a dinner.

A restaraunt owner worries about the reviews, the lighting, the reputation - he worries about the outcome of the 'event' but when you host a party, the host worries about the people - if they feel comfortable, if the food’s being passed around, if there’s room for one more chair.

Owning is feels like it's about perfection whereas hosting is more about connection.

When I show up as the “owner,” I’m thinking about how things look from the outside - whether people are impressed, whether the work feels sharp enough, whether it measures up to the invisible scoreboard in my head (and theirs) and most importantly, whether they're going to buy what I had to offer.

But when I show up as the “host,” I’m thinking about how people feel inside the space, it's a lot more personal because I’m noticing what’s unspoken - checking in on people and most importantly, I’m leaving room for them and thats where you might get something unexpected to happen.

When I stopped owning the room and started hosting it, people showed up differently - including me because it's less about an outcome and more about the personal connection with people.

// The Shift

I was thinking about this shift when I was sat there with a Ginger and Lemon tea (god knows why I had one of them but it was nice all the same) - and the space that I had to roll this idea around in my head allowed me to dive a little deeper into this new found philosophy - I begain to think that hosting isn’t passive - but neither is 'owning' a room - when you're hosting, it’s not about standing back or pretending not to care - I think it’s more intentional than that because you have to lean into being way more personal.

It’s leading the space without the armour or protection of a 'business head' to guide you - that shield of 'being in business' means you allowing or giving people space to bring their own ideas to the table - and actually letting them be heard.

How many times have you been at a networking event where someone appears to be listening but actually, they're looking over your shoulder or around the room for someone better to talk to? That's trying to 'own' a space.

When you're 'hosting', you ask better questions and you listen longer - because you're not focused on the rest of the room, you're focused on one person at a time, you allow other people to talk, express their feelings and their opinion and you let silence do some of the work.

It's a weird thing to understand but the work that comes out of those spaces is better because the space you're creating with others when you're hosting isn't just yours (or mine) anymore, it's ours.

It has feelings and everytinng you touch has fingerprints, not signatures.

That’s the shift.

Owning says, “Look what I’ve built, you should buy my sh*t"
Hosting says, “Come and build with me and let me hear your stories”

// The Space

When I was finally sat down in the event - hearing others talk and the host go through the presentation, I looked around the room and it's weird because it shows up everywhere once you see it.

In leadership, it's the difference between commanding a team and leading one. In creativity, it's the difference between performing for your audience and inviting them into your character and in life, between needing to be right and wanting to connect.

Owning is exhausting - It’s a constant defence of your position and it's a constant need to be on the offence, looking for every opportunity to exploit - never once thinking about you can help others whereas hosting allows you to be way more expansive. It’s a quiet kind of power - the kind that doesn’t need to prove anything or 'be' anything

And when you host well, something magical happens because people rise to meet you, they fill the space you’ve created and they feel that connection with you - people actually sense that you're making them feel a part of something rather than just making up the numbers and because it's such a personal connection, they start hosting too. They lean into the personal and ask questions and lean into the connection rather than fighting for the next opportunity.

That’s how real collaboration begins - not through control, but through connection.

// The Reminder

I still catch myself slipping into ownership. Even on Friday last week I could hear the little voice that says: make sure they know you’re the expert. I was tempted to jump up when people started arriving, start performing and being the business man but every time I go back to hosting, something shifts.

The room feels lighter and there is less pressure - it's like the work feels more honest, without that pressure of needing to be someone and I start enjoying it again.

I've said it before in previous articles - it's the same as this but hosting isn’t about being the loudest in the room. There are plenty of people in the business world who will do that - they'll love to run around shaking hands whilst simultaneously look over your shoulder but you don't need to do that - you just need to focus on making the room feel alive.

Maybe that’s the work right now - not to own more, but to be open more.
Not to prove yourself, but to hold space for others to prove themselves too.