The habits that quietly determine how we show up when it matters most.The quality of our leadership isn't determined by how much we carry. It's determined by the capacity we build to carry it well. Ten years ago, I first thought about climbing Mt Kablaki, Timor-Leste's fourth-highest mountain. A few weekends ago, I finally did it.  Photo caption: The summit came the next day. The lesson began here. At the time, I thought I had come for the climb. I didn't yet realise the mountain had something else to teach me. My partner and I drove to the small village at the foot of the mountain the afternoon before our climb. We hadn't booked a guide or arranged accommodation. Instead, we simply asked around until someone pointed us towards a local guide, and then asked whether there was somewhere we could pitch our little orange tent for the night. What happened next was completely unexpected. We were invited to camp beside the Uma Lulik, the village's sacred traditional house. Beautifully crafted and rich in cultural significance, it was one of the most special places we could have imagined spending the night. As temperatures dropped after sunset, our hosts even offered for us to sleep inside the Uma Lulik itself. We politely declined because we had been looking forward to a simple night under canvas, surrounded by the mountains we had come to explore. Here we were, welcomed by people we had only just met, trusted with space beside one of the most meaningful places in their community, sharing stories as darkness settled over the mountains. The next morning we climbed Mt Kablaki. The views were spectacular. But what I remember most wasn't standing on the summit. It was everything that happened before it. Driving home, I realised the weekend hadn't really been about climbing the mountain at all. We often admire leaders for everything they carry: the responsibilities, the projects, the people who depend on them and the causes they champion. But perhaps we've been measuring the wrong thing. The quality of our leadership isn't determined by how much we carry. It's determined by the capacity we build to carry it well. That thought stayed with me long after the mountain disappeared in the rear-view mirror.  Over the past few weeks, life has been wonderfully full. From the outside, it may have looked like one exciting announcement after another. BOLDER found its way into three shops across Dili, including the international airport. I joined the Advisory Board of AVM Timor-Leste. Exciting conversations began about bringing a Climate Leadership Certificate to Timor-Leste. I helped CARE in Timor-Leste develop its advocacy strategy, and I've been speaking with policymakers about Timor-Leste's whale-swimming guidelines. I also had the privilege of contributing an article to the Swiss leadership magazine Persönlichkeit!. Behind the scenes, however, life looked rather different. I spent countless hours refining my website, one page at a time, with plenty more still to come. I followed up proposals, responded to emails, prepared new programmes and quietly laid the foundations for what's next. At the same time, I made a deliberate effort to return to the habits that help me lead well: eating nourishing food, prioritising strength training, spending time outdoors and making space for weekends in nature. None of those things are particularly newsworthy. Yet I've become increasingly convinced that they are the work that makes everything else possible. The R in B.O.L.D.E.R. stands for Regenerate.  While revisiting the Regenerate chapter of BOLDER recently, one sentence caught my attention again: Purpose without energy is not sustainable. When I wrote those words, I was thinking about burnout. Today, they remind me of something slightly different. Capacity. Purpose gives us direction. Capacity determines how well, and how consistently, we can show up. Every meaningful opportunity that has emerged over the past few months has arrived alongside everything else life was already asking of me. None of those opportunities replaced the ordinary work. They were added to it. That is why I have become increasingly protective of the habits that quietly expand my capacity rather than drain it. Earlier this month, I also shared the story behind my article "Stärke entsteht unterwegs" (Mental Strength Develops Along the Way) in the Swiss professional magazine Persönlichkeit!, published by WEKA Business Media AG, for a special edition on Frauenpower (Women’s Power). The piece explores why we don't need to wait for more courage before taking the first step. Courage grows because we take it. The editors challenged my first draft with refreshingly honest feedback. It felt polished, but it no longer sounded like me. They were right. Rewriting it reminded me that maintaining quality, whether in our writing, our leadership or our wellbeing, is rarely about dramatic change. More often, it's about paying attention before something quietly drifts off course. (If you missed the story, you can read it here.)  Photo caption: Featured in the Swiss professional magazine Persönlichkeit! with my article “Stärke entsteht unterwegs”, a reflection on how courage grows through action. One of the reasons I return to nature so often is because it constantly reminds me that capacity is created through cycles. Forests regenerate. Coral reefs recover. Muscles become stronger only after they repair. Nothing in nature grows continuously. Leadership shouldn't expect to either. There is often more recognition for recovering from burnout than for quietly preventing it in the first place. Yet maintaining our health, relationships and energy before they begin to suffer is one of the most important leadership practices we have. Capacity isn't built during the keynote, the board meeting or the strategy workshop. It's built beforehand … in the workout you almost skipped, the meal you took time to prepare, the weekend spent outdoors instead of in front of another screen, the conversation that grounds you and the boundaries that protect what matters most. These moments rarely appear on a résumé, yet they shape every decision we make.  Photo caption: One conversation can open a door you didn’t know existed. What comes nextCapacity isn't something we build once and then forget. It's created every day through the choices we make about how we work, recover, connect and grow. Whether I'm facilitating leadership workshops, supporting organisations through strategy and change, speaking at conferences, coaching leaders, or designing future BOLDER expeditions, this idea continues to shape the way I live and lead. The work may look different from one project to the next. The principle doesn't. Build capacity first. Everything else grows from there. If you're looking to strengthen leadership within your organisation, navigate change with greater confidence, or explore new ways of developing leaders through nature, adventure and lived experience, I'd love to start a conversation. I work with organisations and leadership teams through:
Questions for ReflectionAs you look towards the months ahead, I wonder:
Continue the conversationIf this reflection resonated with you, you might enjoy exploring some of the other ways we can work together:
Because in the end... The quality of our leadership isn't determined by how much we carry. It's determined by the capacity we build to carry it well.
0 Comments
Six weeks after Timor-Leste’s first community freediving festival, Topu Ramutu returned to Dili for two community ocean evenings, and showed that the conversations sparked on Ataúro Island were only just beginning. The documentary lasted just five minutes. The conversation afterwards lasted an hour and a half. That’s when I realised we’d created something much bigger than a film.
Six weeks after Topu Ramutu (“Dive Together”), Timor-Leste’s first community freediving festival on Ataúro Island, we brought the story back to Dili through two community screenings: one as part of Beachside Hotel & Café’s Movies at the Beach series and another at Kios Matenek as part of International Ocean Month. Topu Ramutu had brought 39 people — 26 Timorese and 13 international participants from six countries — together in Adara from 1–3 May 2026 for three days of freediving, learning, conservation, cultural exchange and plenty of fun. More than half of the participants received partial sponsorship support, helping young Timorese freedivers and ocean enthusiasts take part alongside experienced local and international freedivers. The programme ranged from line and fun diving, safety and equalisation training to yoga, breathwork, underwater photography, fish identification, conservation discussions, night diving and a rather entertaining underwater obstacle course. But maximum depth was never the point. Connection was ... Connection with the ocean, with each other, and with the people of Adara who welcomed us into their community. We heard about Adara’s locally managed Tara Bandu marine conservation system from Xefi Aldeia Sr. Joao da Costa and learnt from Wawata Topu, Adara’s internationally recognised women spearfishers, about their relationship with the ocean and their experience challenging traditional gender roles. The gathering also marked the launch of Freediving Timor-Leste, a collaborative community initiative created to connect the country’s growing freediving community and support future training, events and ocean awareness. The five-minute documentary captured just a little of those three days. Bringing it back to Dili was our chance to keep the conversation going When five minutes turns into 90At Kios Matenek, around 40 people, the majority Timorese, joined us for an evening of short films about freediving and ocean conservation. And then we started talking. The conversation flowed from freediving and ocean safety to conservation, tourism, education and community. People shared experiences, challenged ideas, asked questions and reflected on their own relationship with the sea. Ninety minutes later, we were still going. For me, that was one of the strongest indications that Topu Ramutu had achieved something beyond the three days we spent together on Ataúro. It had sparked curiosity. New relationships had formed. And people wanted to keep talking about what could happen next. That’s how movements grow.  From freediving to supporting Adara’s schoolThe evening also gave us the opportunity to close another important loop from Topu Ramutu. We formally presented US$710 raised through the festival to Maun Mario from Adara to support the village’s new primary school. Just days before Topu Ramutu, we weren’t even sure we could fund all the participant scholarships. Making the festival accessible to Timorese participants had been important to us from the beginning, and the majority of participants needed financial support to attend. Thanks to an overwhelming response from supporters, we exceeded our fundraising target and were able to invest the surplus back into the community that had welcomed us. Mario later shared that the US$710 would be used to paint the walls of the new school. There is another part of this story that I particularly love: the school itself has been built with funds raised through tourism. Visitors who came to experience Adara and Ataúro have collectively helped the community build something for the next generation. It’s a small but powerful example of what tourism can contribute when local communities are not simply the backdrop to an experience, but part of its purpose and benefit.  The ripple effects continueWhen we first imagined Topu Ramutu, we hoped people would leave feeling more connected to the ocean. What I didn’t expect was how quickly it would start connecting people with each other. Looking around the room at Kios Matenek put a huge smile on my face. We had created a space where people who care about Timor-Leste’s ocean could meet, exchange ideas, inspire one another and begin imagining what might be possible together. For me, that’s where conservation begins. And there is enormous potential here. Timor-Leste has warm tropical waters, extraordinary marine biodiversity, healthy coral reefs, deep drop-offs close to shore and a rich local ocean culture. Topu Ramutu gave us a glimpse of what could be possible if freediving and sustainable marine tourism continue to grow in ways that put safety, local participation, community benefit and ocean stewardship at their heart. Topu Ramutu may have lasted three days. The community and conversations it helped create are lasting considerably longer. And we’re only just getting started.  It took a community to make this happenTopu Ramutu was a collaborative, not-for-profit initiative organised by Freediving Timor-Leste, Inspired by Nature, RainbowFlow Yoga, Underwater Cinema, Lenuk Tasi and Mario’s Place Adara, with the support of volunteers, community members, individual donors and ocean advocates. A huge thank you to the organising team who gave their time, energy, expertise and enthusiasm to make it happen: Birgit Hermann, Jesse Harries, Rebecca Brown, Denilson Monteiro, Simão Do Santos C J Dos Reis, Eljovio Lopes Emilio Nai Bucar, Emanuel Rosario Nheu Brito, Joaozinho Dedito Martins, Jeovanio Dos Santos Ribeiro, Silvester Mahon Pereira de Oliveira, Profirio Jose da Costa, Frederico de F. P. Sobral, Robby Ornai, Andy Miller and Mario Gomez. And, of course, thank you to the people of Adara for welcoming us into their community and sharing their ocean, knowledge and home with us. Read more about Topu RamutuTopu Ramutu also received coverage in Timor-Leste’s media. If you’d like to explore more of the story:
A heartfelt thank you to everyone who participated in Topu Ramutu, attended the screenings, shared their ideas, donated, volunteered, sponsored or partnered with us to make it possible. Here’s to many more.  A few weeks ago, my Instagram account was hacked. Not a forgotten password or a temporary glitch. A full-blown takeover by professionals who used my account to advertise Bitcoin services and message people directly. Within hours, I had lost complete control. After a painfully long battle, Instagram eventually shut the account down permanently and, just like that, eight years of photos, videos, memories, and, hardest of all, more than 1,300 connections were gone. What made it even worse was the timing. I was only days away from launching my book, BOLDER: A Leadership Mindset and Framework Forged at the Edge, at the Presidential Palace in Timor-Leste. It was one of the biggest professional milestones of my life, and I wanted the people who had followed my journey over the years to be part of it. Instead, I found myself starting from zero. The Day Eight Years Disappeared  I was surprised by how emotional it felt. At first, I was frustrated. Then I was sad. Then came the strange feeling that a small part of my identity had somehow been stolen and discarded. If you've ever poured years into building a community, sharing stories, documenting experiences, and connecting with people around the world, you'll understand that social media accounts are more than just platforms. They become living archives of our journeys. I had shared adventures from Antarctica and the Sahara, stories from remote communities in Timor-Leste, moments beneath the ocean's surface, lessons from leadership work, and countless memories that can never truly be recreated. Losing it all felt surprisingly personal. Visibility Creates Possibility  Photo caption: Some of the bookmarks I created for the launch of BOLDER. "Visibility creates possibility" has taken on an entirely new meaning for me since then. I often say that visibility creates possibility.
I believe that deeply. Visibility can open doors, spark collaborations, create opportunities, and connect us with people we may never have met otherwise. But this experience made me realise something important. Our visibility does not live in an app. Not in Instagram, LinkedIn, Facebook nor anywhere online. Real visibility lives somewhere much deeper. It lives in:
The Things That Can't Be Hacked As the days passed, something unexpected happened. People began finding me again. Messages arrived, friends shared my new account, former colleagues reached out, and new connections started appearing. Within a month, hundreds of people had already found their way back. It reminded me of something I often see in leadership. Things change. Titles disappear, strategies fail, funding ends, organisations restructure, and entire careers can take unexpected turns. Sometimes, the things we have spent years building seem to unravel overnight. But the things that matter most cannot be taken away so easily. Our values, our experiences, our relationships, our reputation, the way we make people feel, and the impact we leave behind are much more enduring than any platform, role, or job title. Those are the things that stay with us and, ultimately, the things people remember. Sometimes Life Invites Us to Begin Again I certainly would not have chosen this experience. Rebuilding a community from scratch takes time, effort, and patience. But perhaps there is also something powerful in beginning again. Starting over has a way of forcing us to ask some important questions: What truly matters? What are we trying to build? And who are we building it for? In many ways, leadership asks exactly the same questions. Because leadership is not about clinging to certainty or controlling every outcome. It is about learning to adapt when things change unexpectedly and finding the courage to begin again. The truth is that none of us are immune to setbacks. Accounts get hacked, plans unravel, dreams take detours, and things we have worked hard to build can disappear overnight. Yet those moments often remind us where our real foundations lie. Not in followers, titles, or perfectly curated feeds, but in our ability to reconnect, rebuild, and start again. The things that matter most can't be hacked. And that is exactly where our real visibility lives. "Breathe, breathe, Birgit. Breathe." Those were the first words I heard after blacking out during a freediving competition a few years ago. For 17 seconds, I wasn't really there. My mind was somewhere else entirely, in a strange dreamlike world of dancing cartoon animals and distant voices. Then I came back. I opened my eyes to find safety divers holding me, judges watching, and a medic already beside me. I was confused. Disoriented. But I was safe … because I wasn't alone. In freediving, the first and most important rule is simple: Never dive alone. No matter how experienced, strong, or confident you are, there may come a moment when you need someone else to bring you safely back to the surface. Recently, I was reminded that leadership works exactly the same way. The People Who Make Depth Possible Over the past few weeks, I've found myself surrounded by communities that reminded me of this lesson. One of them was the Rotary International Convention in Taipei. Imagine nearly 37,000 people from around the world gathering around a shared commitment to service and positive change. It was my first opportunity to experience Rotary at this scale, and it was genuinely mind-blowing. The opening ceremony felt a little like the Olympics. Nearly 200 flags were carried into the Taiwan Dome, one by one, representing the countries and territories where Rotary serves. Sitting among thousands of people committed to making a difference was both humbling and inspiring. Photo caption: Taipei was a reminder to surround yourself with communities that make depth possible. As a Rotary Peace Fellow, it was also an opportunity to connect with fellow peacebuilders and changemakers from a global network of more than 1,800 leaders. With everything in my own career currently evolving at top speed, the convention became an unexpected moment of reflection. Four years ago, when I completed my fellowship, the world was navigating COVID. I was employed, leading organisations, and only beginning to step into a more visible role. Today, I run Inspired by Nature, my leadership and social impact consultancy, recently launched the BOLDER framework at the Presidential Palace in Timor-Leste, and increasingly find myself advising, coaching, and encouraging others to step forward and lead boldly. Taipei reminded me that none of that journey would have been possible without people who invested in me first. People opened doors. They made introductions. They encouraged me to take opportunities before I felt entirely ready. They believed in me. And now, increasingly, I find myself in the position of doing the same for others. In many ways, Taipei felt like an opportunity to pay that forward. I also had the opportunity to deliver two sessions on BOLDER Leadership for People and Planet: Lessons from Timor-Leste. The talks started with a simple question: What would happen if more people stepped forward before they felt ready? What stayed with me most were the conversations afterwards. The questions. The encouragement. The people who saw parts of their own leadership journeys reflected in the framework. Once again, I was reminded that none of our bold ideas are built in isolation. They grow because communities hold them, challenge them, and help them take shape.  Photo caption: Sharing BOLDER in Taipei was a reminder that leadership lessons forged in Timor-Leste resonate far beyond our shores. What Topu Ramutu Was Really About Last weekend, we screened our short film from Topu Ramutu, Timor-Leste's first community-led freediving festival, at two events. Watch it here: The second screening turned into something much bigger than a film night. It sparked a lively conversation among ocean lovers, conservationists, young people, and community leaders that lasted for more than 90 minutes. Watching the footage again and witnessing the audience engagement reinforced something we had hoped from the very beginning: Topu Ramutu wasn't just about freediving. It was about nurturing a community of conservation-minded ocean lovers who feel most at home below the waves. It was about belonging. Photo caption: Topu Ramutu wasn't just about diving together. It was about building a community around a shared purpose. Nearly 40 people from different countries, cultures, and backgrounds came together because they share a love for the ocean. Friendships were formed. Young Timorese freedivers stepped into leadership roles. A community began to take shape. And isn't that true for leadership too? The people who help us go further are often not the ones standing in the spotlight beside us. They're the mentor who believes in us before we're ready. The friend who tells us a difficult truth. The colleague who quietly supports our ideas. The team member who carries part of the load. Or the community that reminds us we don't have to do everything alone. One of the biggest lessons from Taipei wasn't about leadership frameworks or keynote stages. It was this: Bold leaders rarely succeed alone. The BOLDER Lesson One of the six pillars of the BOLDER Framework is Leverage Collective Power.  Because bold leadership is rarely a solo act.
The myth of the self-made leader is seductive, but it isn't true. Every meaningful thing I've done in my life has been shaped by others: teachers, mentors, coaches, friends, colleagues, communities, and people who opened doors I couldn't yet see. They are not peripheral to my journey but its foundation. They are what make depth possible. And perhaps that's why the first rule of freediving has become one of my favourite leadership lessons: Never dive alone. Reflection
Closing As I look back on the past few weeks, these are the lessons I keep returning to:
So wherever you are right now, don't dive alone: Build your team. Nurture your community. Ask for help. Offer support. Because the biggest mountains, deepest dives, and boldest dreams are rarely achieved alone. And if you're reading this, thank you for being part of mine. Until next time, Birgit Lessons on Leadership from a Presidential Palace Launch, Freediving, and the Ocean In my previous BOLDER Reflection, I wrote about visibility and why leaders shouldn't be the world's best-kept secret. Since then, life has been anything but quiet. BOLDER was officially launched at the Presidential Palace in Dili. I facilitated a leadership communication workshop with managers and emerging leaders. My Instagram account was hacked, forcing me to start again from scratch. I spent time in Bali learning alongside freedivers from around the world, including world-record holder Alexey Molchanov. And I spent time with a growing freediving community in Timor-Leste, exploring pressure, trust, presence, and what happens when people come together around a shared purpose. On the surface, these experiences seem completely unrelated. But as I reflect on the past few weeks, one theme keeps showing up: Calm under pressure. The Launch Photo caption: Ten years of lessons from deserts, oceans, boardrooms, and coaching conversations distilled into one message: lead bolder. Last week, BOLDER was officially launched at the Presidential Palace in Dili. Almost 150 people came. Some stood at the back because every seat was taken. Ambassadors, community leaders, entrepreneurs, young changemakers, friends, and colleagues; many of whom have been part of my journey over more than a decade in Timor-Leste. It was emotional. Because while the invitation said "book launch", this felt like something much bigger. It felt like the coming together of ten years of relationships, adventures, challenges, leadership experiences, and lessons. The highlights video captures the spirit of the day far better than words ever could. You can watch it here. One of the most powerful moments was listening to Ross Merry da Gloria and Joãozinho Dedito Martins (Dedy Kayaka) reflect on their own leadership journeys and the role I have played alongside them over the years. Another was hearing remarks from His Excellency Dr José Ramos-Horta, Nobel Peace Prize Laureate and President of Timor-Leste, before he officially launched BOLDER. Standing there watching a framework forged through deserts, oceans, endurance challenges, coaching conversations, and years of leadership experience being recognised in that way was a moment I'm still struggling to find words for.  Photo caption: Watching BOLDER emerge from beneath the tais felt like the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. Moments like these remind you that leadership isn't measured only by titles or achievements. It's measured by what continues through others. And perhaps that is what stayed with me most. None of this was achieved alone. Bold leadership may look individual from the outside. In reality, it is almost always a collective effort. What the Ocean Is Teaching Me About Leadership  Photo caption: What you see here isn't a freediving event. It's a community taking shape. Earlier this month, I had the privilege of co-organising Topu Ramutu ("Dive Together"), Timor-Leste's first community-led freediving gathering on Atauro Island. What began as a simple idea brought together nearly 40 participants from Timor-Leste and around the world for three days of diving, ocean education, conservation, breathwork, and community-building. What made me proud wasn't the diving itself. It was watching young Timorese freedivers step into leadership roles and seeing a community form around a shared passion for the ocean. I was equally inspired by Wawata Topu, the women spearfishers of Adara, who continue to challenge traditional gender roles through their leadership, skill, and deep connection to the sea. Seeing the event featured in the media was a reminder that people are hungry for stories of community, conservation, leadership, and positive action. If you'd like to learn more about Topu Ramutu, you can read the coverage here:
A few days days later, I found myself at Deep Week Bali, learning alongside freedivers from around the world, including world-record holder Alexey Molchanov and Australian freediver Adam Stern. While there, I facilitated a workshop called Beyond the Dive: The Freediver's Mindset for Everyday Life, exploring how lessons from freediving can help us lead, communicate, and navigate everyday challenges more effectively.  Photo caption: Freediving teaches calm under pressure in a way you cannot fake. Surprisingly, both experiences reinforced the same lesson: Freediving teaches calm under pressure in a way you cannot fake. When you descend beneath the surface, tension consumes oxygen. Forcing rarely helps. Panic narrows your options. The deeper you go, the more important it becomes to remain present. Leadership isn't so different. The leaders who create trust, navigate uncertainty, communicate clearly, and make good decisions under pressure are not always the loudest. Often, they are simply the calmest. Which is why one phrase has become my anchor both underwater and above the surface: Pause. Breathe. Smile. Choose. Different Room. Same Lesson.  Photo caption: Different room. Same lesson. Pause. Breathe. Smile. Choose.
Three days after the launch, I found myself in a room full of leaders practising communication and presence. Participants delivered presentations, were filmed, and watched themselves back on screen. Different room. Same lesson. Most people don't struggle because they lack expertise. They struggle because pressure changes how they show up. Whether underwater, on stage, or in a boardroom, our ability to stay grounded often determines the impact we create. Reflection
Closing A few other things have happened recently. After losing my Instagram account to hackers, I've started a new one from scratch. It's a humbling reminder that sometimes leadership isn't about scaling something bigger. Sometimes it's about beginning again. If we haven't connected on LinkedIn yet, feel free to send me a connection request. And if you'd like more regular glimpses from the journey, you can also find me on Instagram and Facebook at @b.inspiredbynature, where I share reflections on leadership, oceans, endurance, and life at the edge. And next week I'll be travelling to Taipei for the Rotary International Convention and Peace Park programme as a Rotary Peace Fellow. If you'll be there too, I'd love to connect. Thank you for being part of this community. Keep breathing. Keep leading. And keep choosing your next bold step. Birgit Want more reflections like this? Subscribe to BOLDER Reflections and receive leadership insights, stories from the edge, and practical tools delivered straight to your inbox. Over the past few weeks, something has shifted. On 25 May, BOLDER will be officially launched at the Presidential Palace in Dili, hosted by His Excellency José Ramos-Horta. Even writing that still makes me pause. Because this wasn’t part of some grand master plan. It’s been one step, one conversation, one door opening after the other. And if I’m honest, this step feels like a new edge again: a bigger room, a different level of visibility, and that familiar question in the background: Are you ready for this?  Stepping into a new kind of room. What has become very clear to me over the past few weeks is this: None of this would be happening if I had kept things to myself. Momentum doesn’t build in isolation For a long time, I believed grit was enough: put your head down, do the work, deliver, keep going. And yes, that matters. But at some point, it stops being sufficient. Because momentum doesn’t build in isolation, it builds in connection. I learnt this in a very real way when I first considered doing the Marathon des Sables, the 250km self-sufficient ultramarathon across the Sahara. At the time, I had no plan, no experience running such distances over several days, and no real idea how to even begin getting used to carrying a heavy backpack while running. But I shared my commitment to give it a try anyway. Not fully thought through yet, just shared. That one act changed everything: a friend connected me to a coach. Training became real. A short video reached the Timorese military. A sponsor stepped in. None of that would have happened if I had kept the idea to myself.  This started with one shared idea. Visibility is not self-promotion — it’s leadership We often wait until things are “ready” before we speak about them, thinking that clarity must come first. But in reality, that delay is exactly what slows everything down. Support tends to show up after you share, not before. This is something I speak about in Shift L of the B.O.L.D.E.R.™ framework — Leverage Collective Power. It’s the shift from doing it alone to intentionally building the ecosystem around your vision. And a big part of that is choosing not to be the world’s best-kept secret. Building the room I’m seeing this play out again right now. As I prepare for the launch at the Presidential Palace, I’m not just organising an event; I’m building the room. Reaching out to people I respect, putting leaders, partners, thinkers, challengers, and connectors across sectors on the guest list I will provide to the presidential office. And yes, there are moments of hesitation. Moments where I wonder if I’m aiming too high, or stepping too far. But more often than not, those are exactly the moments that matter. Because this is the work: stepping forward before everything feels fully certain, and trusting that the right people will meet you there. Your leadership is an ecosystem  This is where most of it actually happens. The bigger the vision, the more intentional your support system needs to be. Strong ecosystems don’t happen by accident; they are built through small, deliberate actions over time. Sharing an idea early, making an introduction, reaching out without a clear outcome, or simply acknowledging someone’s contribution: these are the moves that quietly build momentum. It’s less like a corporate ladder and more like a coral reef. Everything is connected. Everything supports everything else. And over time, that’s what creates resilience, adaptability, and real impact. A simple check for you Take five minutes and map your ecosystem. Not perfectly, just honestly.
One more thing Over the past weeks, I’ve started bringing BOLDER into rooms through keynote conversations and leadership sessions. And what I’m noticing is this: Many leaders are doing powerful, meaningful work… but quietly. Holding back just enough that the idea never fully lands. If there’s one shift that keeps coming up again and again, it’s this one. Not doing more. But being seen more clearly. Keep the conversation going If this resonates, I’d love to hear your reflections. And if you’d like more insights like this, you can join BOLDER Reflections here: Or explore the B.O.L.D.E.R.™ Edge Lever, a short tool designed to help you identify which shift will have the biggest impact on your leadership right now: [link]
I Barely Slept… And It Worked The first weeks after launching BOLDER felt like stepping into a current that was moving faster than I could think. I barely slept. Most days started at 5am, posting across time zones, replying to messages, asking for book reviews (something I hadn’t fully appreciated until I was in it), resharing content, figuring out logistics, and working out how to get paperback copies to Timor-Leste. It was messy. A bit intense. Running on adrenaline. And somehow… it worked. I came out of those first days with a big smile, and a sense that something had started to move. Then the first batch of paperback books arrived in Dili, and it was gone faster than I could have imagined. I’m still wrapping my head around that one. At the same time, I found myself in conversations with the Presidential Office about hosting an in-person launch here in Dili: again, completely new territory, and not something I had planned for. And then things kept unfolding.
Somewhere along the way, I also became a slightly unconventional mobile bookshop. I now carry copies of BOLDER in my bag wherever I go.  Carrying it with me. Literally. Books have been sold in cafés, in spontaneous conversations across town… signed over coffee… and yes, even in a nightclub.  Signed over coffee.  This is what matters. Turns out bold leadership conversations can start in the most unexpected places.
What has meant the most, though, is seeing so many Timorese women pick up the book and start engaging with it. That, more than anything, tells me this work is landing where it matters. Alongside all of this, I’ve had the chance to speak on podcasts, including the Tough Girl Podcast and 68 Cups of Blueberry Tea, sharing more about the endurance experiences, the ocean, and the leadership lessons that shaped the BOLDER framework. In its first days, BOLDER quietly climbed into the Top 5 on Amazon Australia in Motivational Business Management, and into the Top 50 across leadership categories in the US and the Netherlands. And still… part of me is catching up with all of this. Because alongside the momentum, something else showed up too. That quiet voice: Are you really up for this? I’ve started to see it differently. Not as something to get rid of, but as a signal. A signal that I’ve stepped into something that matters and that I’m at my edge… not behind it. It’s something I see again and again in my work with leaders. The moment they step into something bigger, more visible, more meaningful, that voice shows up. And instead of taking it as a reason to step back, what if we took it as a reason to lean in? In the B.O.L.D.E.R.™ framework, this sits in Shift O of owning your identity: learning to lead before you feel fully ready. A simple check for you:
If you’re curious to go deeper into this, I spoke about imposter syndrome as a growth signal in a recent podcast conversation on the Modern Humanitarian and Development Leader Podcast. If this resonates, take a moment with that question. Or pass it on to someone who’s currently stretching into something bigger. Birgit P.S. If you’ve read BOLDER and it stayed with you, a short review on Amazon goes a long way. It helps the book find the people it’s meant for. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗱, 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘄𝘀. Three years after stepping down as Country Director, I found myself back in the room. This time on the other side of the stage, celebrating ten years of Blue Ventures Timor-Leste. I attended as a guest (as I should). But if I’m honest? It’s hard not to feel something when you once helped build the foundations.  When I stepped into the role in 2018, the organisation was just 2.5 years old — still shaping systems, still testing whether community-led marine conservation could truly take root. Four and a half years later, we had moved from set-up to structure. From proactive to strategic. We documented facilitation processes so they could be replicated. We strengthened partnerships with government and coastal leaders. We embedded coaching and local leadership into the culture. And as I handed over to a Timorese successor, we had secured three multi-year grants, creating stability for delivery instead of survival. That mattered to me. Foundations matter. Driving along the coast now, I see beaches dotted with Blue Ventures explanation boards — locally managed marine areas shaped and stewarded by communities over the past years. Quiet evidence that real impact is built collectively, through trust, partnership, and long-term commitment, not individual heroics. The event blended policy dialogue, community voices, traditional dance, and a powerful photo exhibition — a reminder that conservation here is as much about culture as it is about coastlines. What stayed with me most was the quiet authority of the team. Many are still there. Watching them host donors and lead conversations with calm confidence didn’t spark nostalgia, it sparked respect. For the strength of the foundations. For the leadership that has carried it forward and elevated it further. That’s what good succession looks like. To my former colleagues in Timor-Leste and around the globe — you know who you are — thank you. For the late nights. The cancelled boats. The floods through our doors. The Covid pivots. The moments of sheer hysteria. And the stubborn belief that community-led conservation in Timor-Leste was worth fighting for.
It was. Sustainable impact doesn’t come from charisma. It comes from systems, trust, and investing in people long before results are visible. It’s the leadership philosophy behind my book BOLDER, launching next week — inspiring change, shifting culture, and building lasting impact without burnout. Bold leadership isn’t about holding on. It’s about building something strong enough to thrive long after you’ve stepped aside. Parabéns ekipa BV! Parabéns komunidade-sira! And to Bernardete Fonseca, Courtney Cox, Ebrima Saidy— thank you for stewarding this next chapter with strength and integrity. 𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗮𝗺𝗯𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗱𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗮 𝗯𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝗗𝗶𝗹𝗶… No punchline. Just a very good evening. Last Friday, the German-speaking crowd in Timor-Leste gathered to welcome the new German Ambassador Ralf Beste (Jakarta-based), say goodbye to the Austrian Ambassador Thomas Loidl, and catch up with the EU Ambassador Thorsten Bargfrede (who also happens to be German). Total headcount: 25 people. In a country of 1.3 million. Living proof that the world is both big and oddly intimate. Diplomats. Development folks. Entrepreneurs. Volunteers. Long-term expats. Different roles. Different paths. 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲 — 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝘂𝗹𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆. I don’t speak much German anymore. Life mostly happens in English, Tetun, Bahasa; context-switching on repeat. But every now and then, wine in hand, slipping back into my mother tongue feels different. Familiar. Grounding. A soft landing.
After 25 years abroad, I don’t confuse home with geography. Home is something else. It's portable. It's language. Laughter. Shared context...And the ability to feel connected anywhere on the planet. In a fractured world, these small, human moments of connection matter more than we think. 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗹𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗜’𝗺 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 — 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿. And a big shoutout to Lena Lenzen, our Honorary Consul for Germany for organising the gathering.  I read today that we need more optimistic leadership. Absolutely! I couldn’t agree more. So hold tight for some of that optimistic leadership in practice. Today, we celebrate three years of Underwater Cinema: a Timorese-led, volunteer youth movement born from love for the ocean and a deep desire to protect it. What began as a small group of passionate volunteers has grown into a community that inspires, educates, and takes action for our seas. I’ve had the privilege of witnessing this journey up close and of continuing to support it as a mentor, guide, and freediving instructor.  Over these three years, Underwater Cinema has: • brought thousands of people closer to the ocean through snorkeling experiences, exhibitions, film, and creative advocacy • connected communities in Atauro and Ilimano more deeply to the sea • supported young Timorese freedivers from non-divers to advanced levels • and marked historic moments — including when one member became the first Timorese woman to freedive to 25 metres Last year alone, more than 10,000 people visited their multimedia exhibition (a format that was a first for Timor) celebrating the movement’s second anniversary — a powerful reminder of how far youth-led, community-rooted action can reach. If you’re looking for hope, don’t look to headlines. Look to communities like this, quietly doing the work, dive by dive, breath by breath. That’s where the future is being shaped. 🌊💙   Find out more about their work by following them on social media:
@underwater_cinema |
AuthorBirgit Hermann is a global coach, speaker, executive leader, ocean advocate, and extreme endurance athlete. For 20+ years she has guided leaders and teams in over 20 countries through transformation, crisis and culture change. 
Archives
July 2026
Categories |
