ISSUE #006 | THE LEADERSHIP CONTRARIAN
Leadership formation doesn’t stop at the office door.
A quick word before we get too far into this week’s topic.
Today, I want to be encouraging.
I want to offer you four practices - simple, powerful, and proven - that can add real strength to both your leadership and your life at home. They aren’t complicated. But they are formative. And when practiced consistently, they have a way of quietly changing everything.
Back in Issue #001 of The Leadership Contrarian, I said this newsletter would be holistic; that it would include not just work and leadership, but family, marriage, faith, and the personal realities we all carry with us.
I meant that.
Because whether we like it or not, we are holistic people. We don’t divide ourselves neatly. We take our whole self everywhere we go.
Which is why today we’re talking about one of the most overlooked intersections of all: how your marriage and your leadership shape and strain each other.
I grew up inside my family, schools, and work systems that believed nearly everything in life - including leadership - should be compartmentalized.
One box for work. One box for home. One box for emotions. One box for stress.
It sounded disciplined. It looked responsible.
Eventually, I watched it quietly fail.
And what I learned through that experience is this: stress has a way of exposing what’s actually been formed in us through the experiences in our life. For instance we can say we have certain beliefs and values but what we actually believe at our core is exposed when life gets stressful.
And nowhere is that more obvious than in our closest relationships.
Marriage, in particular, has a way of accelerating formation. You can’t hide behind titles. You can’t outsource maturity. And patterns, good and bad, surface quickly.
Which is why the practices I want to share with you today matter so much. They’re not marriage tips. They’re relational disciplines.
And they will strengthen both your leadership and your life at home - if you practice them.
Why These Practices Matter
What follows aren’t marriage tips.
They’re relational disciplines, formed and practiced at home, that shape how we show up everywhere else.
Each one addresses a different way stress exposes us: our presence, our connection, our patterns, and our posture.
I should add this context.
I didn’t originally learn these four practices as a neat framework. We’ve lived them over time - taught early, practiced imperfectly, and refined through our own marriage.
More recently, though, I heard Harvard Professor Dr. Arthur Brooks name these same four practices together in a conversation online. What struck me wasn’t just that he named them, but that he pointed out we now have solid research backing the power of each one in a marriage.
I would never have grouped them together the way he did. But when he said them, I immediately recognized every one of them.
Not as theory. But as formation.
Here’s what those practices have looked like in our life.
1. Eye Contact
Real presence. Undivided attention.
Eye contact says, “You matter more than whatever else is competing for my focus.”
Early in our marriage, Kathryn and I noticed something that seemed small at first but turned out to matter a lot. When we went out to eat, we always preferred sitting across from each other rather than side by side. We didn’t articulate it at the time, but sitting across the table meant we could actually see each other face to face, eyes engaged.
A few years into our marriage, that preference proved more important than we realized.
We had just moved back to Chico. Kathryn was working full-time at a software company. I had gone back to school, was working part-time, and was home most days with Jenna, who was two or three at the time. I was a stay-at-home dad. Our days were very different.
One night we went out to dinner at one of our favorite local spots. Nothing fancy. Somewhere in the middle of the meal, we both started getting short with each other. Not explosive, just cranky, misaligned, missing each other.
Then Kathryn paused and named it. She called it her “working man blues.” She was exhausted. She had spent all day in meetings and conversations and came home with very little left.
At the same time, I had spent most of the day with a toddler. I hadn’t had an adult conversation. I needed help. I needed connection. And I needed to talk.
We were both tired. We were both right. And we were missing each other.
What stands out to me now is not that eye contact magically fixed the problem - it didn’t. We were still miscommunicating in real time. But sitting across from each other, looking each other in the eye, made it harder to dismiss each other. Harder to tune out. Harder to walk away.
We could see the fatigue. We could see the frustration. And because of that, we stayed engaged long enough to actually hear what the other was feeling.
That moment became formative for us.
Eye contact didn’t eliminate conflict. It made communication possible.
And over time, that same discipline shaped how we encouraged each other, valued each other, and worked through hard conversations; not just when things were tense, but when we were affirming and building each other up.
Application:
This week, practice choosing presence over convenience.
When your spouse - or anyone you lead - is talking, pause what you’re doing. Put the phone down. Turn toward them. Make eye contact before you respond.
You don’t have to solve the problem. You don’t have to agree.
But you do have to be present.
Leaders who struggle to be present at home rarely develop a non-anxious presence anywhere else.
2. Always Be Touching (ABT)
If eye contact is about presence, physical touch is about closeness.
I can’t point to one single moment in our marriage when physical touch disappeared. What I can tell you is this: over more than three decades together, Kathryn and I have noticed a consistent pattern.
When we are emotionally stressed or frustrated with each other, we become more physically distant.
We don’t look each other in the eye. We don’t linger in conversation. And we definitely don’t touch.
That distance has become one of our early warning signs.
When one of us gets quiet, avoids eye contact, or stops reaching out, even in small ways, it usually means something is off. Not always a big conflict. Sometimes just fatigue, disappointment, or stress that hasn’t been named yet.
What I’ve learned is that for many couples, physical distance doesn’t follow unresolved conflict. It becomes normal when conflict lingers too long.
When frustration goes unaddressed, the space between people quietly grows. And over time, a lack of touch stops feeling like a problem and starts feeling like the baseline.
That’s why an old piece of advice stuck with me early on: keep short accounts. Don’t let resentment sit. Don’t let disconnection become familiar.
Because physical touch builds intimacy, and intimacy makes repair possible.
We are physical creatures. Simple, appropriate touch - holding hands, sitting close, a hand on a shoulder - creates bonding. It reinforces safety. It communicates, “I’m still here.”
I’ve always noticed this in older couples I admire. The ones who walk arm in arm. The ones who still hold hands. My grandparents were like that well into their later years - best friends, quietly connected, even in small everyday moments.
Kathryn and I have built small, intentional habits around this. Holding hands while driving. Sitting close in church. A hand on the shoulder when passing by.
And a few years ago, we committed to something simple but surprisingly powerful: a six‑second kiss every day. Not dramatic. Not performative. Just intentional.
It changed more than we expected. It reminded us to reconnect physically even on days when we didn’t feel like it.
Because here’s the truth: when you’re frustrated, you rarely want to touch. But that’s often when you need to most.
Application:
Pay attention to physical distance.
If touch has quietly disappeared in the relationship with your spouse, don’t ignore it. Start small.
Hold hands. Sit closer. Offer appropriate, intentional connection.
You’re not trying to force intimacy. You’re reopening the door to it.
And the leadership crossover matters.
During COVID, many of us learned what happens when physical presence and appropriate touch disappear entirely. Handshakes. Fist bumps. Being in the same space.
Human connection weakened. Trust took longer. Presence mattered more than we realized.
Healthy connection at home and at work requires proximity.
And leaders who learn to notice distance early have a much better chance of addressing what’s underneath it before it becomes the norm.
3. Don’t Live in Rehearsal — Invest in Repair and Joy
Repair before repetition. Joy before exhaustion.
If touch addresses distance, this discipline addresses what happens when problems start to define the relationship.
Kathryn and I both came into our marriage with a shared desire: we didn’t want to repeat the unhealthy patterns we had grown up around.
We were both raised in families marked by divorce or deeply unhealthy marriages—homes where conflict either lingered too long or was avoided altogether.
What made this especially interesting for us was the different formation we brought into our marriage.
Kathryn was largely raised by a stepmother who avoided conflict at all costs. When something went wrong, the pattern was to stop talking, pull away, and eventually return to what they called “happy family.” No resolution. No naming. Just silence, followed by pretending it was over.
I came in with almost the opposite instinct. If something was wrong, I wanted to talk about it. I didn’t want to go to bed with unresolved tension. I wanted to deal with issues directly and move toward resolution.
Early on, that difference mattered.
We both wanted peace. We both wanted a healthy marriage. But we had to learn that peace doesn’t come from avoidance, and it also doesn’t come from endlessly rehashing the same problem.
That’s the trap many couples fall into.
Instead of addressing an issue and repairing it, they rehearse it.
“You always do this.” “Here we go again.” “There you are, doing the same thing.”
At some point, the conversation stops moving toward resolution and starts circling the same ground. Nothing new gets learned. Nothing gets healed. The dirt just keeps getting stirred.
One metaphor that has stuck with me, came from research I was exposed to more recently. Imagine a glass of water with dirt in it. If all you do is stir it, all you’ll ever see is dirt. But if you pour in fresh water, the dirt begins to flush out.
Joy works the same way.
Addressing problems matters. Forgiveness matters. Repair matters.
But joy is not avoidance. Joy is reinforcement.
When couples stop having fun - stop laughing, stop enjoying one another - problems feel heavier than they actually are. When joy returns, perspective does too.
Kathryn and I learned we had to be intentional about this. Date nights. Shared laughter. Doing things we genuinely enjoy together, even when everything wasn’t resolved yet.
That shift didn’t ignore problems. It made dealing with them possible.
Application:
Pay attention to whether you’re repairing or rehearsing.
If the same issue keeps coming up without movement, pause the loop. Address what needs addressing, then intentionally invest in joy.
Celebrate what’s working. Reinforce the good. Create space for laughter and shared wins.
The leadership crossover is clear.
Every organization has problems. Every team has tension. Great leaders don’t ignore mistakes, but they don’t live in them either.
They confront what needs fixing, build solutions, and then reinforce what’s going right.
Because what you focus on grows.
And leaders who know how to repair and celebrate build healthier teams - just like couples who do the same build healthier marriages.
4. Pray Together Every Day
Shared meaning before self-sufficiency.
This final discipline addresses the deepest question of all: where does a relationship turn when there are no easy answers?
This fourth discipline matters more than most people realize and the research is clear - some of the strongest, healthiest marriages share one consistent practice: they pray together.
I want to be explicit here. I’m speaking from my Christian faith, and I’m not assuming everyone shares it. There are plenty of marriages within Christianity where couples don’t pray together. And there are many reasons for that, like awkwardness, embarrassment, shame, or simply not knowing how to begin.
Prayer is deeply intimate. It reveals how you relate to God. And because of that intimacy, many couples - even those with shared faith - avoid it altogether.
Kathryn and I came into our marriage with a strong Christian faith and good formation. We had been discipled and mentored early on, and we knew we wanted a marriage where we were both actively pursuing Christ and sharing that pursuit together. That desire was part of our decision to marry.
So we made prayer a regular part of our life together. And over time, we’ve seen its impact.
Prayer didn’t spare us from difficulty. We’ve faced seasons of loss, betrayal, uncertainty, broken relationships, failed plans, and real pain. What we didn’t experience was facing those things alone.
Prayer allowed us to stand shoulder to shoulder, bringing gratitude, confusion, fear, and hope to God, together. Some days there were answers. Many days there weren’t.
But prayer reminded us we weren’t the final authority. We weren’t carrying the full weight of the world on our own.
That shared posture shaped us.
We pray together at meals. We pray for our daughter. We pray for our business and our staff. We pray for friends, family, and people we care about. We pray out loud with and for each other.
That practice didn’t come from perfection. It came from trust. We were taught early that praying together builds intimacy so quickly that it should be treated with care, even while dating, because of how deeply it bonds people.
After more than thirty years of marriage, I can say without hesitation: that teaching proved true.
Application:
If faith is part of your life, don’t underestimate the power of shared prayer.
Start small. Be honest. Be awkward if you need to.
You’re not performing. You’re practicing dependence together.
The leadership crossover is subtle but significant.
Leaders who are grounded in something beyond themselves tend to be more resilient, more self‑aware, and less reactive under pressure.
Even when prayer doesn’t show up explicitly at work, it shapes the person who does.
And leaders formed by humility, gratitude, and shared meaning carry themselves differently at home and everywhere else.
The Leadership Connection
Research consistently shows that the ability to relate - to create safety, connection, and trust - is one of the strongest predictors of long-term leadership effectiveness.
This isn’t soft.
It’s structural.
Pressure doesn’t build character. It reveals it.
And the place it shows up first is almost always home.
A Simple Invitation
Pick one discipline.
Practice it intentionally this week.
Not to fix. Not to perform.
But to form.
Because when your closest relationships grow stronger, your leadership capacity quietly follows.
And everyone around you feels the difference.
Your Turn
If any part of this resonated with you -
even a sentence,
even a tension you’ve been feeling -
Would you reply and tell me?
I read every reply.
Until then -
Stay grounded.
Stay growing.
And God bless,
- Michael Redman
Half a Bubble Out (aka: HaBO)
Business Consulting | Leadership Coaching
