Cultivating enduring bonds
The best measure of leadership isn't what happens while you're in charge. It's what happens after you leave. Do people keep helping each other? Do the practices persist? Do the relationships endure?
Cultivating enduring bonds means building a culture of quality, collaboration, and growth that outlasts any single project or org chart. It's about forging connections that become alliances, mentorships, and friendships that span years and companies.
These kinds of lasting relationships don't happen by accident. You have to create the conditions where bonds can form. "Hire good people and get out of their way" is management gospel, but it's incomplete. Getting out of their way isn't the same as stepping away entirely. The space between hiring and stepping back is where real leadership happens.
I learned this through contrasts. At one startup, I was handed credentials and a directive and then leadership got out of my way. It was a struggle. At another, the CTO held the door open as he stepped back. It created the safety I needed to ask for help, and when I did, we worked through my confusion together without blame or ego. He wasn't trying to prove his expertise. He was creating space for authentic collaboration. His consistent presence carried its own authority, cutting through confusion not by broadcasting knowledge but by being genuinely available when I needed it.
This experience helped me articulate the concept of the thrum. The frequency where signal travels cleanest. He was operating at that frequency.
The difference wasn't autonomy. It was supported autonomy, presence without pressure. Creating safety for people to admit when they're stuck. Being available when needed, invisible when not. Clearing the path quietly so others can find their way. Sometimes it means providing a gentle nudge to push past imagined or inherited constraints. Helping them find their voice, create their signal and find their frequency. It builds like harmonic resonance. It's the kind of support that tastes like freedom rather than oversight.
Enduring bonds are not forged in perfect times. They grow in the middle of pressure, deadlines, and uncertainty. They form when people choose to keep going together through both boom and bust. They hold even when everything else feels worn.
With that foundation of trust and support in place, specific practices can take root. These are the patterns I've recognized that help bonds endure:
Daily rituals of review with kindness. Feedback becomes a gift when it's offered with genuine care rather than judgment. Regular rhythms where people can share work, ask for input, and learn from each other. Code reviews, design critiques, story sessions, whatever fits. The key is consistency and care. People learn to trust the process when it's both honest and kind.
Pairing and crossing perceived boundaries. Some of the strongest bonds I've witnessed form when people work together across what we think are disciplines. Let the designer sit with the developer. Let the writer collaborate with the strategist. These boundaries exist mostly on org charts and job descriptions. The map is not the territory. The org chart is not the team. When people work together on actual problems, the artificial divisions fade. What builds is empathy, shared vocabulary, and mutual respect that transcends whatever lines someone drew on paper.
Post-ship retros that honor process, not heroics. When projects end, celebrate what worked in the way you worked together, not just what you shipped. What practices served you well? What would you do differently? How did you support each other through challenges? Honor the process that created the outcome, and people will want to recreate it.
What endures:
People keep helping each other long after org charts change. They recommend each other for opportunities. They collaborate on side projects. They become references, mentors, and friends. The bonds you cultivate become a network of mutual support that extends far beyond any single workplace.
This network effect depends on depth. When we treat work as only business, bonds stay shallow. When we let passion and purpose mix with intention, the resonance deepens. The work becomes personal in the best sense. Friends who once shared a project become allies long after the project is done.
Time is short. None of us know how much we have. That makes it even more important to use the time well. To choose our words carefully. To choose trust over suspicion. To open doors rather than keep gates. To extend the circle and say, "why don't you roll with us?"
This sense of belonging, of being part of something that transcends the work itself, needs language to make it real. I carry a phrase from the Minneapolis hip-hop collective Doomtree that captures this perfectly: "Team the Best Team." For me it's about invisible bonds that don't break when a project ends. Once a team, always Team the Best Team. But it's more than nostalgia. Each person you've worked with this way becomes a node in an exponential network of allies. They carry the same approach to their next teams, creating bonds that ripple outward. I bring this concept to every team I'm part of because it names something essential. These relationships form the carrier wave that guides us through the static.
Enduring bonds are not about being nice for show. They are about showing up again and again. They are about sharing risks, sharing the truth, sharing the burden of lifting the sails together. They transform teams into communities that outlast any org chart.
When you cultivate enduring bonds, you're building relationships that become part of who you are, and remain long after you've moved on.
This reflection is dedicated to my Team the Best Team. We are better for having been together and remain connected regardless of where the noise tosses us.
Silvaris. Strength in quiet. Quiet as revolution.