This week, I turn another year older. While I find that birthdays tend to sneak up with a certain insistence that time is passing, I do appreciate the invitation they offer to pause, reflect, and take stock. This year, my birthday reflection has a different weight to it.
We’re living through a time of intensifying pressure: political tension, economic uncertainty, environmental strain, attacks on freedoms, and a growing sense that the systems meant to hold us together are instead pulling us apart. Like many folks, I’ve been feeling a quiet ache—a combination of anger, fatigue, and a fierce desire to do something—even as I continue the work of supporting organizations and leaders to shift toward more participatory, humane ways of working.
It’s in this context that I find myself thinking a lot about power: who has it, who doesn’t, how it’s used, and how we might share it more wisely. That reflection has led me to a kind of birthday question I didn’t expect:
What does it mean, right now, to reclaim our seat at the table?
Power and the Quiet Drift
There’s a pattern I’ve been watching closely, and maybe you’ve seen it too. In moments of deep societal strain, power tends to drift upward. Whether it’s into the hands of charismatic leaders, massive corporations, or AI-driven platforms, the message we hear over and over is: Don’t worry, we’ve got this. You don’t need to understand it or question it. Just let us handle it.
For some, that might sound tempting. In the face of complexity, it can feel like a relief to hand over the reins. But the more we abdicate our participation, the more that table, whether in the workplace or the public square, becomes a place where decisions are made about us, not with us.
In some corners, this shift is even celebrated. The argument goes something like this: governments are too slow, too inefficient, too bogged down in bureaucracy to solve big problems. So let’s hand things over to “visionary” CEOs, streamlined corporate operations, and the logic of the market.
But there’s a catch. These models weren’t built for shared flourishing, but rather, they were built for profit extraction. They treat people as inputs, customers as data points, and the planet as a resource to be optimized. And when we apply this logic to our organizations—or worse, to our democracy—we end up with cultures that prioritize control over care, efficiency over equity, and noise over nuance.
A Different Kind of Table
I believe there’s another way, and it doesn’t begin with revolution or grand gestures. It begins with small, intentional acts of reclaiming. We reclaim our seat at the table when we choose to show up fully, with curiosity, connection, and empathy, rather than waiting to be invited.
Whether we show up as workers, as neighbors, or as collaborative co-creators, we reclaim our seat when we challenge the idea that leadership belongs only to those with titles or power suits, and instead see it as a shared responsibility, a practice of listening, sensemaking, and supporting what wants to emerge.
We reclaim our seat when we design workplaces that honor participation, distribute authority, and encourage people to make decisions close to the work, where real insight lives. It’s not about rejecting structure. It’s about rejecting rigid hierarchies that rob people of agency and voice. It’s about shifting away from strict predict-and-control to incorporating more sense-and-respond, not just in how we structure organizations but in how we approach decisions, relationships, and leadership with clarity, intention, and trust in one another’s judgment.
Participation as a Practice
One of the hardest truths of adult life is that most of us don’t get to vote every day. We don’t get to decide national budgets or write legislation. But we do get to decide how we lead meetings. How we design teams. How we handle conflict. How we invite input, how we build trust, how we share information.
Every one of those choices is a chance to practice democracy in the broadest, most soulful sense. To practice inclusion. To practice care. To practice the idea that everyone has something to contribute, and that our shared future depends on drawing out that wisdom, not suppressing it.
You might think of it as a kind of practice of shared responsibility. It’s not something that draws a lot of attention, but it creates real shifts. Each small act of inclusion, participation, or shared agency builds momentum toward something more equitable and alive. Every time we make space for a quiet voice, every time we co-create a team agreement instead of issuing a top-down mandate, every time we let people decide how their work gets done, we are practicing a kind of leadership that heals.
The Possibility of the Present
So, here I am, another year older, thinking about what it means to lead in times like these. And I keep coming back to this: The systems we live in are human-made, and they can be remade.
Yes, things feel heavy. Yes, the scale of what needs changing is enormous. But the starting place is small and intimate. It’s in how we treat each other. It’s in how we build our teams. It’s in whether we foster organizations where people feel heard, held, and empowered to act.
If you’re feeling disillusioned by the state of the world, I want to offer a reframe: Don’t look away. Look closer.
For many of us, the workplace is where we spend the majority of our time and energy. It can reflect the same dynamics that frustrate us on a societal level—hierarchies, exclusion, disconnection—but it can also be a space for change. The way we show up at work is one of the most immediate and accessible places to begin practicing something different.
Look at the way your team is structured. Look at who gets to speak, and who is silenced. Look at what behaviors are rewarded. Look at whether purpose is something you hang on the wall or something that actually shapes your decisions.
The real revolution starts there.
You don’t have to be in Congress to change the world. You don’t have to be a CEO or a public intellectual or a thought leader with a million followers. You just have to take your seat. The one that’s been waiting for you.
You have wisdom. You have a voice. You have power. And whether you’re leading a team, launching a project, or rethinking your own relationship to work and purpose, your presence matters.
So, as I blow out the birthday candles this year, that’s the wish I’ll be making: May more of us reclaim our seat at the table. May we lead with compassion and conviction. And may we remember that, even in the midst of chaos, possibility is always within reach.
Curious about what reclaiming your seat could look like in your organization?
This is the work we do at Transformetic. We help organizations move from the old logic of command-and-control to new ways of working that center participation, purpose, and people. Explore our offerings at transformetic.com or reach out for a conversation. We’d love to hear what you’re wrestling with—and imagine what’s possible, together.
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