Timing

Today the word I’ve chosen is timing. It’s a word that’s been sitting with me since the weekend, after I spent a full day immersed in music with around forty other amateur musicians. Violins and violas, cellos and pianists, singers, flautists, and one wonderfully expressive clarinettist. A room full of people who love music enough to give up a day, simply to practice, to listen, and to play together.

And when it comes to music, timing is everything.

More important, in fact, than getting all the notes right. You can miss a note and recover. But if you’re out of time, if you’re not aligned with the tempo and with each other, the whole piece starts to unravel. A couple of the pieces we played had particularly tricky tempos. Not difficult just for me, or for one section, but for all of us together. Finding the pulse, holding it, adjusting to subtle shifts, and staying connected to the whole.

It struck me how similar this is to leadership.

Timing in business and leadership is rarely about moving faster all the time. It’s about knowing when to act and when to hold back. When to step forward decisively, and when to pause, observe, and let things unfold. It’s about recognising opportunities as they arise, but also having the discernment to know which ones are truly yours to take — and which are better left for another moment, or another player entirely.

What makes timing so challenging today is the tempo we’re all working to.

This is not a simple waltz. It’s not even a dramatic tango with a rhythm you can learn and anticipate. The tempo of modern leadership is irregular and constantly shifting. Time signatures change daily, sometimes hourly. The pace accelerates without warning, then stalls. You’re expected to make more decisions, with less reliable data, under greater pressure, while juggling endless distractions and competing demands on your time and energy.

In that environment, it’s no wonder so many senior leaders feel permanently out of step. Rushing when they should be resting. Forcing progress when conditions aren’t right. Missing moments of opportunity because they’re too depleted to see them clearly.

This is why timing, at a deeper level, is about energy.

You cannot lead well if you are constantly playing out of rhythm with yourself. If you ignore your natural cycles of focus and fatigue. If every day is treated like a sprint, regardless of what your body, mind, or the wider context is telling you.

Good leadership, like good music, requires listening.

Listening to your own circadian rhythm. Noticing when your thinking is sharp and when it’s foggy. Honouring weekly and monthly cycles rather than overriding them. Paying attention to the seasons — both literal and metaphorical — and adjusting your pace accordingly.

Right now, we are in winter. Winter is not a time for relentless acceleration. It’s a time to draw in, to reflect, to consolidate. In musical terms, it’s largo or andante. Slower, gentler movements that allow space for healing, integration, and renewal. It’s not the moment for forcing big new initiatives or demanding peak performance from yourself day after day.

There will be time for that.

As the earth begins to wake and energy returns, the tempo naturally lifts. That’s when allegretto and presto make sense. That’s when momentum feels supportive rather than exhausting.

For my clients — senior leaders navigating complexity, uncertainty, and constant pressure — mastering timing is not about doing more. It’s about aligning action with energy. Stepping into rhythm with yourself, your work, and the moment you’re in. When you do that, decisions become clearer, effort feels lighter, and your impact grows. Not through force, but through resonance.

That, to me, is the quiet power of timing.