Open Wide Your Heart
On remaining reachable in seasons of leadership strain
There is a way of leading that looks open on the outside.
Present, responsive, attentive.
And yet somewhere inside, the heart has begun to draw inward.
Leadership can gradually shift from relational presence to functional performance.
When that happens, people still experience our effectiveness, but they experience less of us.
We carry responsibility well, fulfill expectations, and meet the needs around us.
But slowly and often quietly, something inside moves from connection to protection.
We begin leading from competence rather than connection.
Reliability rather than rootedness.
We continue to show up and deliver, but we know something has tightened on the inside.
And while that tightening doesn’t always register in the metrics or the minutes of a meeting, it is felt in the relational field.
Restricted in Affection
Paul offers this reflection in 2 Corinthians 6:12–13:
“You are restricted in your own affections… open wide your hearts.”
He isn’t warning or rebuking.
He is naming something deeply human.
Affections are the internal attachments where we seek grounding.
Being capable.
Being respected.
Being relied upon.
Being effective.
These are not deficiencies.
They are often genuine strengths.
But when they become sources of identity, they can solidify into quiet armor.
We begin resting on what others value in us instead of leading from who we truly are.
The exterior remains steady, but the interior becomes defended.
And the heart, made for connection, begins orienting toward protection.
What Teams Actually Feel
Research on leadership shows that teams do not simply respond to what we do.
They respond to whether they feel us.
Studies on psychological safety reveal that teams function best when the environment makes it safe to be human.
Safe to admit uncertainty.
Safe to be imperfect.
Safe to bring real thoughts and real selves.
When a leader becomes slightly guarded:
communication becomes more cautious
honesty becomes more selective
creative contributions quiet down
people mirror our guardedness.
The team may remain respectful, but subtly less connected.
They trust our competence more than our closeness.
And slowly, the relational fabric thins.
When the Heart Quietly Contracts
Looking back, I noticed the narrowing in my body first, not in my thoughts.
After burnout, I did not intentionally become more guarded.
I was instinctively trying to stay intact.
On top of that came an unspoken script of leadership:
Project confidence.
Own the room.
Be the anchor.
I did not contract because I loved people less.
I contracted because I was trying to remain whole.
From the outside, my leadership stayed strong and dependable.
But access to my heart became narrower and more managed.
I did not become less vulnerable.
I became selectively vulnerable.
Offering disclosures that looked open without revealing what was truly tender or uncertain inside.
And in that narrowing, I began to mistake composure for presence.
Stability for openness.
Strength for connection.
The Cost of a Narrowed Heart
A closed heart does not create dysfunction.
It creates distance.
Distance between leaders and their teams.
Distance within relationships.
Distance from ourselves.
People can feel when our authority is intact but our availability is not.
They often cannot name it, but they sense it.
And perhaps most tenderly, we feel the loneliness of it.
The Invitation to Re-Open
“Open wide your hearts.”
Paul’s invitation is not toward dramatic exposure, but toward gentle expansiveness.
A loosening of the inward grip.
A softening of the self.
It is the shift from performing leadership to inhabiting leadership.
Where steadiness is twinned with sincerity.
Where strength allows softness.
Where responsibility holds space for relational presence.
Often this re-opening begins not with a grand gesture, but with a subtle permission.
A real answer to “How are you?”
A moment of unguarded gratitude.
An admission of uncertainty.
A willingness to be seen.
These small choices of honest presence allow the heart to come forward again, not by demand but by trust.
We begin showing up not only as the leader we are expected to be, but as the person we actually are.
A Gentle Unfolding
Your leadership may be capable.
Your competence real.
Your reliability evident.
But it is your heart, your grounded, honest, human heart, that truly forms others.
The heart opens not by force but by trust.
Not through projection but through presence.
Not by being impressive, but by being real.
Perhaps the real work of leadership is loosening the grip on the heart rather than tightening our grip on illusion of control.



