The Operating System Beneath Leadership
- PG Geldenhuys

- 2 hours ago
- 3 min read

This week, I was reminded that leadership doesn’t start with strategy. It starts with family.
I flew to Guadalajara for a short, purposeful trip, doing service work with the Entrepreneurs' Organization. What stayed with me wasn’t the sessions or the agenda. It was the people. Complete strangers, fellow EO members and locals, who invited me into their homes, took me golfing at night, walked me through markets, bought me breakfast, shared stories, and laughed easily. No transaction. Just generosity. It hit me, somewhere between tacos at dawn and coffee at a street stall: this thing we call “community” is real. It spans borders. It shows up when you least expect it.
After the long flight home, and a joyful reunion with my exuberant boys and my ever-loving hound, Caroline and I did the most unglamorous, perfect thing imaginable: some Monkey Shoulder whiskey, a piece of Lindt chocolate and the final two episodes of Landman. The next morning was school drop-offs, the pleasure of seeing old friends, of handshakes, hugs, and the first smiles of the year. More reminders that we belong to overlapping families: home, school, work, community.
Landman gets its fair share of criticism. It’s not for everyone. But Billy Bob Thornton is terrific, and Ali Larter steals scenes with a larger-than-life presence. What surprised me, though, wasn’t the oil drama. It was the gravity of family. The reconciled father. The spirited daughter. The odd son who loves too hard and gets into trouble for doing the right thing. The mismatched crew of oddballs who become an extended work family under one roof. Strip away the rigs and rough edges, and you’re left with the same engine that runs every meaningful life: people who show up, even when it’s messy.
That theme landed hard for me. Over the holidays, I spent time with my mom, my sister and her husband, my various cousins. Important people who have been in my life forever, circles that formed long before any business plan. Family is sometimes something you’re given. Often it’s something you choose. It’s always something you have to work at. Neglect it, and it withers. Invest in it, and everything else gets sturdier.
So here’s the quiet challenge I’m carrying into 2026:
Are you intentional about the people who matter?
Does your plan for the year make time for your kids, your partner, yourself, your real family, and your chosen family? Are you deciding how you spend your time, or letting it be decided for you?
Strategy without protected relationships is just motion. Momentum comes when the calendar reflects your values.
PG’s Pro Tip: turn intention into structure
Use the prompt below to set a clear vision and hard-edge boundaries around the moments that matter. Treat it like a planning session with your future self – calm, honest, and a little ruthless.
AI Prompt for Execution:
Act as a life and leadership strategist. Help me design a 2026 life vision that balances family, health, work, and personal growth.
Step 1: Ask me to define my “non-negotiable people” (partner, children, close family, chosen family) and what “quality time” actually looks like for each.
Step 2: Translate those priorities into concrete weekly, monthly, and quarterly rituals (e.g., school drop-offs, date nights, family dinners, solo thinking time, fitness).
Step 3: Create a realistic time-blocked weekly calendar that protects these rituals first, then layers work commitments around them.
Step 4: Identify the top 3 trade-offs I’ll need to accept to honour this plan, and how to communicate those boundaries clearly to others.
End with a one-page “This Is What I’m Optimising For in 2026” summary I can revisit every quarter.
Family isn’t a soft add-on to a serious life. It’s the operating system underneath everything else. When that OS is stable, the rest of the applications run a whole lot better.



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