We can all feel it. The world is changing, and changing fast. AI, geopolitical instability, climate – we are living in genuinely complex times where everything is always evolving. The constantly changing situation requires us to respond, but where do we look for what to do? Old solutions will not build a new future; there are no playbooks for these times.

In my coaching practice I am seeing this up close. Leaders arrive with questions they can't answer, unsure of the way forward. Some wonder whether they are failing because they no longer have the certainty they once had, aware that being known as the person with the answers was often what got them into their role. In these times, not knowing feels dangerous. I notice the tendency in my clients to want the answer, to think there has to be a right answer. Not knowing is not a place many of us know how to be in. And yet it is often where creativity is born, if we can hang in there.

In these moments of not knowing, the reaction is often to contract, to reach for the familiar, to revert to what we know and look for safety. It makes complete sense, after all, our brains are wired for familiarity and predictability. And here is what fascinates me: even when what is familiar is painful or unhelpful, we often prefer it over the unknown. The rationale? At least the familiar is certain. It's why we stay longer than we should in situations that aren't working – jobs that have run their course, relationships that no longer fit. It is also why we make decisions that we know won't deliver the results we need. The known often feels safer than the uncertainty of the new.

But there is a choice that can be made when difficulty arrives. Instead of asking, 'How do I solve the challenges of a difficult and unpredictable market?', I believe the more powerful question is: 'Who do I need to be and become to navigate what is ahead?' It is a question that guides a leader towards growth rather than staying with the known.

This shift, from problem-solving to seeing these moments as an opportunity for evolution, is at the heart of good leadership.  I believe that good leadership is inseparable from the desire to grow into an ever-better version of yourself. Indeed this is at the heart of why I named my company Evolving Leadership.

What development really means

Think of a significant challenge you've navigated effectively over the last few years: a promotion that stretched you, a difficult conversation you had to have, or a decision that kept you awake at night. Could you have handled it well at the start of your career?

Probably not.

Between then and now, something changed. You. You grew from who you were, into who you needed to become. The challenge that once felt impossibly large doesn't even register now. The process of that change – quiet, gradual, often uncomfortable – is development. It is not the course you attended or the competency framework you are assessed against. It is the ongoing work of becoming someone with greater self-awareness, capacity and the ability to manage complexity.

In a world that is becoming ever more complex, the ability to develop and mature matters more than almost anything else. Development doesn't stop when you reach the top. The challenges simply get bigger, and so must you.

Robert Kegan's work on adult development offers a useful lens here. He suggests that as we grow, we move from being externally referenced – shaped by what others think, expect and need from us – to becoming the author of our own lives, and ultimately acting in service of something larger than ourselves. The best leaders I work with are on that journey. And it never ends.

Passenger or driver?

There is a moment in the process of growth that opens up possibility. It is the moment a leader stops asking, 'What is happening to me, and what is the answer?', and starts asking, 'Who do I need to be in this?'

This shift is significant. The first question places a leader as the victim of circumstance, waiting, reacting, hoping things will somehow resolve. The second places a leader in the driving seat. There are no guarantees of a successful outcome, but what is guaranteed is that the leaders who choose this path learn – and learning means they are growing, becoming more capable of handling the next challenge when it arrives.

The price of staying small

The alternative to expansion is contraction, and in positions of leadership, that comes with consequences.

Contraction can show up as risk aversion, a preference for what is known and proven. It can also show up as a move towards control: telling people what to do, how to do it and when. Left unchecked, contraction can become micromanagement and, in its more entrenched forms, dictatorial leadership. The driving force behind all of this is fear and the pursuit of safety.

A client of mine made it all the way to the top and then lost her mojo. We started working together at a point in her career where she felt she had achieved everything she'd set out to do … and was simply done. No energy left, no sense of what was next.

As we worked together, I began to notice moments when something lit up. Where I could feel her energy, alongside it, I could sense her fear.

The other side of fear

That's the thing about expansion – it doesn't come without fear.

Fear that drives expansion is the kind of fear that sits right next to excitement and to possibility. It is the feeling a leader gets when something is so big it is scary and might not be doable – and yet at the same time it is exciting. I call this cocktail of emotions aliveness. By shifting into aliveness, we gain the opportunity for expansion. My client recognised that the loss of her mojo was a signal that a new journey is beginning, one that doesn’t have answers yet, but simply wants to be explored with curiosity. That recognition slowly put her back in touch with her aliveness. This is available to all of us if we are willing to move towards discomfort rather than away from it.

In the end, growth doesn't stop; we never arrive. We reach a plateau, a period of relative calm, before the next challenge presents itself, always slightly bigger than the last. That's the invitation to grow again. We emerge as bigger versions of ourselves.

Contract or expand, that is the choice difficulty always offers. The tension is rarely about the challenge itself, it is about who you are willing to become to meet it. In a world that is as volatile as ours is right now, where so many of the questions we face seem unanswerable, the skill and ability to grow and evolve as a leader is more important than ever.