The Sovereign Leader (Part 3): Finding Your Inner Compass
- Cory McGowan
- 12 hours ago
- 5 min read
This is Part 3 of a six-part series inspired by my work with a senior executive in a global finance organization. Over six months, he made six bold internal moves — the kind of shifts that only happen when a leader is willing to look honestly at themselves.
When we first began working together, he believed he needed another degree.
Not because anyone had explicitly told him so, but because somewhere along the way he had started to believe that without deeper academic credentials, his voice carried less authority in the room. He was already an experienced leader with more than a decade in his field. Yet when he found himself sitting with colleagues who held MBAs or advanced business degrees, a quiet doubt would appear. Maybe they understood the business more deeply. Maybe they could persuade senior leaders more effectively.
Naturally, he began considering an MBA.
At first, the energy behind that idea felt heavy, almost obligatory. It was something he should do in order to strengthen his credibility. The motivation was less about curiosity and more about filling a perceived gap.
This is a common pattern with leaders. Somewhere along the way, many of us come to believe that legitimacy lies just beyond the next certification, the next program, or the next degree.
But as our conversations unfolded over the months, something in him began to shift.
He started to recognize that the leadership strength others were responding to had little to do with academic credentials. What he brought into the room was something harder to quantify. He had an ability to create what he described as “nattoku-kan” — a wonderful Japanese word meaning a deep sense of shared understanding and buy-in within a team.
It was the kind of alignment that happens when people feel genuinely heard. The kind of trust that develops when leaders create space for others to think, question, and contribute to the direction of the work. Teams move forward not simply because they were instructed to, but because they believe in what they are building together.
In other words, his real leadership strength was human connection.
Once he began to trust that strength, something interesting happened. His relationship with the idea of an MBA began to change. The degree itself was no longer about fixing a deficiency. Instead, it became something much lighter — an opportunity to add even more value to his team and organization, and to connect with other professionals in his field.
The external decision did not necessarily change.
But the internal motivation behind it did.
Watching that shift unfold reminded me of my own experience earlier in my career.
The first role I had when I moved from education into the business world was in executive search. I suddenly found myself speaking with C-level executives about hiring for critical leadership roles in their organizations. The strange part was that I knew almost nothing about their industries. I was having conversations about strategy, talent, and leadership with people running complex businesses that I barely understood.
I learned quickly on the job. I asked a lot of questions and paid attention to patterns in how leaders thought and made decisions. In many ways the role stretched me in the best possible way.
But underneath it all was a persistent sense of impostor syndrome.
I often felt like I had somehow slipped into a room where I didn’t quite belong. The executives I was speaking with had decades of experience, advanced degrees, and deep expertise in their industries. It was easy to assume that the only way to truly deserve my place in those conversations was to go back to school and earn more credentials.
That feeling stayed with me long after I left recruiting.
As I moved into hospitality and eventually worked my way up to becoming the first foreign director in a Japanese company, the sense of being an impostor never completely disappeared. It followed me again when I later led the Organizational Development function for one of the most culturally diverse organizations in Tokyo.
Eventually it reached a point where I felt almost certain that I needed to pursue some kind of higher degree.
I seriously considered pursuing an MBA or a master’s degree.
Instead, I enrolled in a coaching certification program. The hones motivation at the time, was that it was the much cheaper alternative.
But something unexpected happened during the very first practice coaching session in the training.
As I listened to the person in front of me and followed the thread of their thinking, I felt something shift inside me. A quiet sense of recognition appeared. This felt like my work.
I realized in that moment that my deep curiosity about how people think and natural ability to listen helped them see themselves more clearly. The process of exploring someone’s thinking with them — noticing the patterns in how they interpreted situations and made decisions — was something I genuinely loved.
That moment didn’t just give me a new professional skill.
It helped me find my inner compass.
It clarified the direction that felt genuinely aligned with who I was and the kind of impact I wanted to have in the world: partnering with people as they explore who they are and how they want to lead their work and their lives.
Degrees can be valuable. Education can deepen our understanding and expand our networks. But the deeper shift in leadership rarely comes from external credentials.
It comes from discovering the internal compass that guides how we think, decide, and relate to others.
For this client, that compass was connection.
For me, it was listening.
For every leader, it will be something slightly different.
And while the discovery of that compass can sometimes arrive in a moment of clarity, more often it emerges through deliberate exploration.
One powerful way to begin is by spending time in nature. It doesn’t need to be extreme or heroic. Even a day or two away from the noise of daily work — hiking in the mountains, walking along a quiet coast, or simply sitting somewhere without constant digital input — can create the kind of mental space where deeper questions begin to surface.
Reflective journaling can also be surprisingly powerful. This doesn’t require philosophical writing or even particularly good writing. The value comes from the act of slowing down and putting thoughts on paper. Over time, patterns begin to emerge about what energizes you, what drains you, and what kind of work feels genuinely meaningful.
Another pathway that many leaders overlook is artistic expression. Especially for people who don’t consider themselves artists. Painting, drawing, music, creative writing, or other forms of experimentation can open different ways of thinking and seeing. Julia Cameron’s process in the book The Artist’s Way is one well-known way to explore this kind of creativity and self-discovery.
None of these practices are about becoming a better artist, writer, or outdoorsperson.
They are simply ways of creating the space where your inner compass can become easier to hear.
And once you begin to trust that compass, many of the external decisions you make — whether to pursue a degree, change roles, or start something entirely new — start to come from a very different place.
Not from insecurity.
But from curiosity.
Not from trying to prove something.
But from a genuine desire to explore what is possible.
So perhaps the deeper question for leaders is not whether they should pursue another credential or opportunity.
The more interesting question is this:
What is the inner compass that is already guiding your leadership?
And what might change if you trusted it more fully?
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