The Patterns
— Seven PatternsThe seven patterns
For senior leaders who suspect the thing driving them is also the thing holding them in place.
Seven patterns. Each one a brilliant adaptation — a strategy that solved something real, early, and well. So well that it became invisible. So invisible that it started running you.
The pattern is how it looks from outside. Underneath each one sit a few of twelve beliefs — the actual machinery. And each belief has a book that sits with it.
The question isn't which one you are. It's which one is running you.
The Striver
Worth measured in output. Can’t stop, even when stopping is the work.
Guilty when you stop, settled when you’re moving, restless when you rest.
Critical notes stay for days; praise doesn’t stick.
Slowing down feels dangerous, not just inefficient.
The Devoted
Approval as oxygen. Keeps the peace at the price of what needs saying.
Being liked feels necessary, even when being direct would serve the work better.
Direct disagreement feels like damage rather than contact.
The Protector
Armor on, always. Control and composure standing guard over something older.
The grip feels like responsibility; underneath, it’s something older.
Direct disagreement feels like damage rather than contact.
Being seen without the armor feels dangerous.
The Performer
The audition never ends. Every evaluation a verdict, every standard a shield.
When you’re not the expert in the room, something in you gets smaller.
Critical notes stay for days; praise doesn’t stick.
Slowing down feels dangerous, not just inefficient.
Small mistakes feel dangerous. The standard won’t come down.
The Fixer
If it’s broken, it’s yours. Rescue as reflex, delegation as loss.
You’d rather solve it alone than work through the people needed to solve it.
Small mistakes feel dangerous. The standard won’t come down.
The Conductor
Holds every thread. The orchestra only plays when they’re conducting.
The grip feels like responsibility; underneath, it’s something older.
You’d rather solve it alone than work through the people needed to solve it.
The Strategist
The one who knows. Not-knowing feels like failure, so knowing never rests.
When you’re not the expert in the room, something in you gets smaller.
Not having an answer feels like exposure, so you over-prepare.
Your work should speak for itself — and somehow nobody is listening.
What's underneath
The seven are doors, not boxes. Underneath them sit sixty-two smaller structures — recurring shapes of limiting belief, drawn from real client patterns, not invented. Nobody runs one alone. The Peace Tax arrives braided with the Iron Grip; the Belonging Tax runs on the Proving Engine. What looks like a type is a blend — and the blend is the person's actual situation, not the label.
The patterns name the family resemblance. The work is with the braid.
One book sits across all seven: The Leadership Games — the patterns as they play out between you and everyone else. And the writing goes deeper on each: start with the hub essay.