People Come First
People come first.
It's the title of a song from Deacon Blue's new album, but it's also been at the heart of how I've chosen to live my life. And friendship is the core of that.
I had a chance to step back, re-group, and spend a few days with my life-long friends Rob and James this weekend. A trip to Glasgow, to see a band we've been going to see together for the last 32 years.
Deacon Blue may not be the coolest band, but they have a body of fans that means over 40 years after they first performed together, they still regularly fill out arenas across the UK, releasing new material every couple of years. There's something about their music that keeps people coming back. Maybe it's Ricky Ross's storytelling, maybe it's Lorraine McIntosh's mesmerising harmonies, or maybe it's just that some things connect us to who we were and who we're becoming.
Liking Deacon Blue and sharing moments together singing their anthems (with limited Dignity) is at the heart of our friendship. These shared moments keep us connected and give us not a little joy.
As I sit on a train now, off to catch another plane to spend the week with a group of leaders helping them develop the skills to connect with their people and grow their leadership, I'm glad I took the weekend out.
I may be slightly tired after travelling the length of the UK for a late night in the party capital of Scotland, but I'm refreshed from it. Good mates, great music, new memories. Can't beat it.
Why this matters (especially now)
If you're in a senior role right now, there's a good chance you're used to being the one everyone else comes to. The steady presence. The one with the answers. The one who holds it together when things get messy.
And that's exhausting.
Because who do you turn to? Where's your space to just be yourself, not the role? When was the last time you did something purely because it feeds your soul, not your strategy?
A recent conversation with a client reminded me of this. Brilliant leader, respected by their team, delivering results under incredible pressure. But when I asked what they do to recharge, to connect with what makes them feel alive outside of work, there was this long pause. "I can't remember the last time," they said.
Connection and relationships are at the core of how I've chosen to lead my life since that first connection back in 1993. Aston Villa leisure centre, Birmingham, UK. The beginning of a lifelong connection between friends, and with the band. That's me in the photo at the top of this post, having waited outside the gig for ages hoping to meet the band. I'm with Lorraine McIntosh, the heart and soul of Deacon Blue. More hair on my head, less on my face, a big smile.
But it's not just about nostalgia. It's about what happens when you prioritise the things that remind you who you are beyond the title.
What I'm taking from this weekend
After 32 years of friendship, here's what still strikes me: Rob and James don't need me to have all the answers. They don't need me to perform or prove anything. We can talk about the serious stuff (we did), but we can also just be present with each other. Singing badly. Laughing at the same old stories. Making new ones.
That space to just be, without the weight of expectation, is something I didn't realise I needed until I was in it.
And here's where it connects to leadership. If you're always the one holding it together for everyone else, you need people and spaces where you don't have to. Not because it makes you weak, but because it makes you human. And sustainable.
The leaders I work with who navigate complexity with the most confidence aren't the ones who never step away. They're the ones who protect the relationships and experiences that keep them grounded. Who know the difference between being committed and being consumed.
A question worth sitting with
What connections in your life remind you who you are beyond what you do?
And when was the last time you gave them the space they deserve?
I'm not suggesting you need to book a trip to Glasgow (though if you do, the OVO Hydro is a cracking venue). But I am suggesting that if you're carrying the weight right now, whilst everyone looks to you for clarity, you might need to look at what you're leaving behind to help yourself.
Those trail-side moments, where we pause and take care of ourselves, aren't indulgent. They're essential.
Because people come first. And that includes you.
