Leadership Showed Up in My Backyard This Summer

This episode came straight from my Iowa backyard, where summer has officially arrived, everything is blooming, everything is buzzing, and apparently everything has collectively decided to test my leadership skills from the outside in.

I have carpenter bees boring into my deck. I have barn swallows locked in an ongoing battle with my husband over where they will and will not build their nests. I have rabbits who have found my strawberry patch and treated it as an all-you-can-eat reservation. And I have deer gracefully crossing the yard near my newly planted trees, which look beautiful right now and are about to need some protection.

Here is the thing about some of the best leadership lessons I have ever received: they did not come from a boardroom. They came from the most ordinary parts of my life. Because leadership is not just something that happens in team meetings or performance reviews. It shows up in what you protect, what you tolerate, what you keep cleaning up instead of addressing, and what you let slip through while you are busy handling something else.

So let me walk you through four leadership lessons from my backyard, and then give you a simple framework to help you apply them.

Lesson One: The Carpenter Bees | Good Intention Does Not Erase Real Impact

Carpenter bees are genuinely good for the environment. They are pollinators. They are not aggressive. They are just out there doing their thing. And I feel a little guilty every time I think about wanting them gone, because they are not trying to hurt anyone.

But they are also boring holes into my deck, which happens to be structural. And that is the lesson. Something can bring value and still cause damage. You can appreciate what a person, a process, a meeting, or a client brings, and still be honest that the cost is real.

This shows up in leadership all the time. The high performer who gets results but leaves emotional debris everywhere they go. The team member who means well but constantly interrupts or creates confusion. The process that used to work perfectly when the team was half this size but now slows everyone down. The client who brings in revenue but drains every person who serves them. The meeting that started as helpful and quietly became the place where ideas go to die.

Because there is something good there, we hesitate. We say they did not mean it that way, or the client is so important, or that process used to work. And maybe all of that is true. But true leadership requires a deeper question: not just is there value here, but is the value still in the right place, in the right way, at the right cost?

Grace without accountability can become resentment. Grace without action can quietly weaken the structure you are responsible for protecting. This is not about being harsh or assuming the worst. It is about being honest enough to say this may not be malicious, but it is costing me something. And then taking action.

Lesson Two: The Barn Swallows | Cleanup Is Not the Strategy

The barn swallows at our house are ruthlessly determined to build a nest under our deck by the pool. My husband has removed over fifty of them this year. He has put up spikes. He has put up tinsel. He has tried everything. They build. He removes it. They build. He removes it. No one is winning.

And I watched the whole thing for a while before it hit me. This is exactly what happens in leadership when we keep addressing the symptoms instead of redesigning the system.

If you keep solving the same problem over and over, you probably do not have a person problem or a project problem. You have a system problem.

You keep fixing the same mistake. You keep having the same conversation. You keep sending the same person the same reminder. You keep stepping in at the last minute to save the same project at the same point every single time. Two weeks later, the nest is back. Same mud, same spot, same frustration.

We call it leadership because we are handling it. But sometimes we are handling and not leading. The better question is not how do I clean this up again, but why does this keep happening? Is the expectation unclear? Is the person in the wrong role? Is the process broken? Do I need a consequence or do I need to assign an owner? And here is the one that stings a little: have I accidentally trained people that I will always remove the nest?

Because sometimes the pattern we are frustrated by is a pattern we helped create. Not because we are bad leaders. Usually it is because we care. We want the team to succeed. We know it is faster if we just handle it. But faster in the moment can become heavier over time. The leadership move is to stop only cleaning up and start redesigning.

Lesson Three: The Rabbits | Cute Can Be Costly

The rabbits are honestly adorable. They hop around my backyard like little stuffed animals. They are not trying to ruin my day. They just found my strawberry patch and decided it was their personal buffet. I genuinely cannot even be mad at them.

But the strawberries are gone.

Some of the things draining our energy do not look like obvious problems. They look small. They look sweet. They look manageable. They look like just this once, or it will only take five minutes, or hey can I pick your brain real quick? They look like I know this is last minute but, or I forgot again but I did not want to bother anyone.

Because they seem small, we tolerate them. Because nobody is being mean, we do not address them. Because we can handle it, we do. But those little things add up. A rabbit here, a rabbit there, a few strawberries gone, and then suddenly you are standing in the garden thinking: I planted this. I watered this. I protected this. And somehow I am feeding every rabbit in the county. How did that happen?

It happens at work too. One person keeps missing deadlines. Another keeps creating side drama. Another needs constant reassurance but never takes a step forward. Someone keeps dropping things at your feet because they know you will pick them up. Someone else treats your calendar like shared community property. None of it seems big enough to address. Until you realize all your strawberries are gone.

This one is especially important for women in leadership, because many of us were taught to be helpful, be available, be accommodating, be easy to work with. Those are not bad things. Helpfulness is beautiful. Supportiveness is part of leadership. But when your helpfulness becomes the reason everyone brings their unfinished work to your doorstep, that is not leadership. That is over-functioning. And over-functioning is noble until it turns into burnout.

The leadership move here is simple: set a clear, calm boundary. Not a speech. Not a dramatic announcement. Just a clean line. No, I cannot take that on. Let us schedule a time rather than an interruption. I need you to bring me a recommendation, not just a problem. I am not available for that. Simple, clear, kind, done.

Lesson Four: The Deer | Strong Leaders Protect What Is Still Growing

The deer are beautiful. They stroll across my backyard in the morning and they have not done anything to my property yet. What they will do in the fall is rub their antlers against the trunks of my newly planted trees to relieve the itch of shedding. And those young trees, as much as I love them right now, are not strong enough to handle that yet.

So I am thinking ahead. How do I protect what is new before the pressure hits?

This is leadership lesson four: strong leaders protect what is still growing. We do not wait for the damage. We put the protection in place before it is needed.

In leadership, we often wait until something is in crisis before we give it attention. The new employee starts struggling and then we step in. The young leader seemed like everything was fine until three months in when they were completely overwhelmed. The new idea got criticized to death before it had room to develop. The team burned out because burnout became a badge of honor rather than a signal.

What if we protected it earlier? Better onboarding for the new team member. Coaching for the emerging leader before they start drowning. Space for the new idea to breathe before everyone pokes holes in it. Hard conversations sooner to protect trust. Small corrections early before a misalignment becomes normal.

Prevention is not paranoia. Prevention is stewardship.

What is newly growing in your life or leadership right now? A new role, a new team, a new business, a new habit, a new level of confidence, a new dream? Are you protecting it, or are you assuming it will be strong enough on its own? Because new growth is precious, but new growth is also very vulnerable. Sometimes leadership means putting the fence up before the deer get there.

The Backyard Leadership Filter

Four questions. One framework. Apply it to anything in your work or your life.

Question one: Is this valuable but misplaced? This is your carpenter bee situation. A person with great strengths in the wrong role. A meeting with good purpose but poor structure. A client relationship that needs new limits. A habit that served you last season but is damaging you in this one. The leadership move is to redirect or reinforce the structure.

Question two: Is the same problem being repeated? This is your barn swallow. If you keep solving the same issue, you are probably dealing with a system problem. Clarify ownership. Set expectations. Create accountability. Change the process. Have the real conversation. The leadership move is to redesign, not just remove.

Question three: Is this small but quietly costly? This is your rabbit in the strawberry patch. The tiny things that do not seem worth addressing until you realize they are eating through your time, your energy, your focus, and probably your confidence. The leadership move is a clear, calm boundary. Nothing dramatic. Just a clean line.

Question four: Is this something new that needs protection? This is your young tree. Ask what you are growing that needs support before the pressure hits. A new team member. Your confidence. A strategic priority. Your health. Your family time. Your leadership voice. The leadership move is to protect it early. Schedule it. Name it. Defend it. Give it time to root.

A Word on Tolerance

Patience matters. Compassion matters. Flexibility matters. The ability to work with different personalities and different seasons is part of leadership.

But not all tolerance is healthy. Sometimes tolerance is fear of the hard conversation wearing a nicer outfit. Sometimes it is people-pleasing or exhaustion or a story you are telling yourself because you do not want to make a decision.

What you tolerate teaches people what is acceptable. What you tolerate becomes the culture you are building. And every time you say it is fine when you know it is not, you erode a little bit of self-trust. And leadership starts with self-trust. You cannot lead with clarity if you keep overriding what you already know to be true.

You can be kind and clear. You can be compassionate and set limits. You can value someone and still hold them accountable. You can protect what matters without apologizing for it. That is not difficult. That is leadership.

Your Homework This Week

Pick one. Just one. Do not try to fix the whole backyard in one afternoon. Choose one situation and ask which question applies. Then decide what kind of response is actually needed. Do you need to redirect it, redesign around it, set a boundary, or protect something from it?

If this episode made you think of your own carpenter bee, barn swallow, rabbit, or deer situation, Lynsey would love to hear about it. And if you know a woman leader who is carrying too much or tolerating too much or trying to grow something new and needs to hear this, send it her way. Sometimes the best thing we can do for each other is remind one another: you are not being difficult. You are being clear. And clarity is a gift.