Thought Leadership 

The Body Knows

The Body Knows

Monday, October 12, 2026

What movement can teach us about leadership and being human

At the top of a mountain in Japan, Elaine Krek was searching for something that could not be seen.

Below her was deep powder. Behind her, a group of skiers waited for instruction. Elaine, a former ski instructor, would study the mountain, choose a route and lead. Everyone else followed.

She was looking for the fall line. Drop a snowball on a slope and its course is the route gravity prefers. Experienced skiers learn to sense it. It works with the mountain rather than fighting it.

Elaine was good at finding it. Perhaps too good. Her competence had created a peculiar dependence. If she always removed the uncertainty, her friends would never learn to read the mountain themselves.

This is the hidden problem with much of what passes for leadership. We picture the leader at the front, seeing what others cannot. Yet the more indispensable the leader becomes, the less capable everyone else may become. The test is how many can find a way down when the leader is gone.

Elaine's story emerged during a Leadership Experiment dialogue led by Clare Beumont. Its title was "The Body Knows", a phrase that sounds almost mystical until you consider how modern work treats the body. We place it in a chair, point it at a screen and ask the brain to do the important part.

Beumont's proposition was more unsettling: some forms of knowing may only become available when we move.

The idea is less mystical than it sounds. Judgement is shaped by breath, muscle tension, balance, fatigue and the presence of other bodies, signals that often arrive before conscious explanation.

Runners understand this intuitively. A problem that appears immovable at a desk sometimes loosens after several kilometres. Georgia Barr saw another dimension while pacing the Sydney Marathon. A pacer judges when to accelerate, conserve energy and prepare runners for the hills. She leads from within the crowd, sensing its rhythm and helping others sustain theirs.

Neuroscience offers a possible explanation. When deliberate focus recedes, the brain's default mode network supports reflection, memory and creative association. Exercise also encourages biological conditions associated with learning and neural plasticity. The body, in other words, may help the mind by persuading it to stop trying so hard.

That is why the corporate instruction to "focus" can be strangely unhelpful. The point became visible during the dialogue itself. Mike Pola listened from his rowing machine. On other webinars he often found himself half-listening and multitasking; while rowing, he focused. His body was not distracting him from the conversation. It was helping him enter it.

The ocean teaches something different. Enter cold water and the body delivers an immediate verdict: leave. Breath shortens. Muscles tighten. Thought narrows. With practice, swimmers learn that the sensation is not the same as the danger. They slow their breathing, relax into the water and recover the ability to choose.

Teams experience their own cold shocks. A client is lost. A strategy begins to fail. Emotion moves through the group before the facts are understood. People watch the leader's body as closely as they hear the words. A tightened jaw or frantic pace can make panic the team's operating system.

Leadership, seen this way, is partly the management of emotional temperature. The leader who can regulate a response creates room for everyone else to think.

Then there is dance. Sanna Rissanen began Latin ballroom dancing in her forties, when many adults have eliminated activities at which they might look foolish. Ballroom makes leading and following visible. The lead initiates without dragging. The follow responds without becoming passive. Communication travels through connection, timing and pressure.

Rissanen offered a revealing description of the lead's job: to make the follow look good. The best leader in a dance may therefore be the person the audience barely notices. Their skill appears in someone else's freedom.

Surfing completes the picture because the wave has no interest in the plan. Surfers study the horizon, commit and sometimes wipe out publicly. Suzie Rogers described a community that treats wipeouts as learning. Emma Hodgson added belonging. After noticing how few females joined her local boardriders club, she helped establish a women's division and a surf group for primary-school girls. The ocean offered challenge; the community supplied courage. When others have your back, failure becomes information rather than humiliation.

Running, swimming, dancing, skiing and surfing appear to be different activities. Yet each asks the same question: can you remain responsive when you are not fully in control?

At the top of the mountain, Elaine eventually changed her approach. Instead of choosing the route for everyone, she began teaching others how to see what she saw: the contours of the slope, the pull of gravity and the possibilities hidden in the terrain.

The fall line had been there all along. The lesson was not to follow it blindly. The lesson was to develop the capacity to find it. Perhaps that is what the body knows about leadership: the leader's task is not to become the path, but to help others learn how to read the mountain.

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