Process Over Product: What Dance Reminded Me About Leadership, Creativity, and Growth

July 30

Hello, Community —Earlier this month, I spent nine days in Vermont for a dance residency—creating, collaborating, and reconnecting with a small group of artists I’ve known for many years. This was our fourth year returning to the beautiful Stowell Barn, a restored historic space with a sprung dance floor nestled in the Mad River Valley.

Each year, we come together with a shared intention: to prioritize presence, exploration, and process over product.

My background in dance and the arts deeply informs the way I work with clients today. Whether I’m supporting individuals, teams, or organizations through change, challenge, or transition, I bring a creative mindset that values curiosity, experimentation, and emotional presence.

Lately, the concept of “process over product” has been showing up everywhere—in client sessions, workshops, and conversations. So it felt both grounding and timely to return to my creative roots and experience, firsthand, the beauty and messiness of the creative process.

Process Over Product: 

What Dance Reminded Me About Leadership, Creativity, and Growth

Each year, we gather to co-create a new piece, share our work-in-progress with the local community through a lightly produced showing, and close with an open, facilitated conversation with the audience.

While the structure shifts slightly each year, one thing remains constant: a few months beforehand, we have a collaborative conversation to brainstorm loose themes we’re curious about—each of us bringing ideas from our own creative and personal lens. In our first year, for example, we explored how people hold space for one another—physically, emotionally, and metaphorically.

Although we all show up as collaborators—generating movement, shaping choreographic choices, and solving creative problems together—each idea typically has one person stepping more fully into the choreographer role.

For the past three summers, I chose not to step into that role.

This might seem surprising. I’ve choreographed for years, led a professional dance company, and built a dance program from the ground up. But each summer, I told myself I was too busy, too focused on my coaching and consulting work, and didn’t have the creative bandwidth to take on more.

But the truth? I was afraid.

So this year, I decided to challenge that hesitation—and step back into the role of choreographer.

And to be honest? It was scary.

The inner gremlin came in hot:
What if my idea doesn’t land? What if I forget how to lead creatively? What if the dancers don’t feel safe or supported? What if I’m not good enough anymore?

I knew I had to prepare differently this year—not just choreographically, but mentally and emotionally. Leading up to and throughout the residency, I reminded myself again and again: This is about process, not product.

And still—I found myself falling into the “product trap.”

I noticed how conditioned I am to seek outcome, accomplishment, and external validation. How much of my creative energy—and emotional safety—has been shaped by striving, proving, and producing.

But the creative process isn’t linear. It’s messy, uncertain, and deeply vulnerable. It asks you to stay open, trust your instincts, and let go of control. It asks you to keep showing up, even when you’re unsure where it’s going.

Sound familiar?

I see this same tension in leadership, entrepreneurship, and everyday life. So many of us are rewarded for deliverables, polished outcomes, and measurable success that we become dependent on them. Sometimes, we even start to believe they define our worth.

We chase the next promotion.
Push to hit a personal record in a race.
Set financial benchmarks to feel secure or successful.

Now don’t get me wrong—goals can be useful. They give us direction and motivation. But when we get stuck in a cycle of constant output and external validation, we lose connection to ourselves. Over time, it can chip away at our confidence and lead to burnout.

To be honest, I’ve felt this lately with running. What once gave me joy and freedom started to feel like a measuring stick I could never measure up to. I got caught in a loop of needing to go faster, do more, be better—and forgot to celebrate the simple act of showing up. The freedom of movement. The strength it takes to just begin and to keep going even when it feels impossible.

I see this pattern with clients, too. When individuals or teams only measure success by outcomes—revenue, results, visibility—it can tank morale during slower seasons or moments of uncertainty. Humans aren’t designed to be in constant “go mode.” We need moments of pause and reflection. That’s where creativity, clarity, and sustainable energy come from.

One of the ways I quieted my inner gremlin was by redefining how I measured success.

Instead of obsessing over how the dance turned out—or worrying about what the audience might say—I chose to focus on what was in my control:

  • How I showed up to the process

  • How I supported and collaborated with my dancers

  • How I reflected between rehearsals and came back with new ideas

  • How I navigated uncertainty and stayed grounded in my values

  • How I stretched myself, even when I felt afraid

(I’ll be sharing more soon about one of the most powerful parts of this residency: our audience feedback conversations. Spoiler: feedback isn’t “positive” or “negative.” It’s data. And how we receive it can change everything.)

I use this same tool with my clients—helping them shift their definition of success. Because when we base success only on external outcomes (which are often out of our control), we set ourselves up for frustration and burnout.

But when we define success by how we show up—our effort, our presence, our alignment—we build something much more powerful:

✨ Motivation that doesn’t vanish with a missed goal

✨ Confidence that grows from within
✨ The resilience to bounce back and try again
✨ And most importantly: momentum that keeps us moving forward

So if you’re in the messy middle of a creative process, a career transition, a company re-org, or just life—it’s worth asking:

Where are you still measuring success based only on the outcome?

And what might shift if you measured it by how you’re showing up instead?

Because here’s the truth:
💜  We don’t always know what we’re building when we start (this includes your life).
💜 The most meaningful breakthroughs often happen in the uncertainty.
💜  Process is the work. And whether we like it or not, we’re all works-in-progress—always.

This year's dance residency reminded me: honoring the process doesn’t mean the fear or doubt goes away. It means learning to move with it—and trusting that something meaningful will emerge along the way.


I invite you to reflect:

Where in your life or work are you stuck in the “product trap”?
What might shift if you re-committed to the process?
How are you defining success—and is that definition still serving you?


PS: If you or your team are navigating a messy middle, I’d love to support the process—through 1:1 coaching, leadership development, or creative facilitation. You don’t have to go it alone. Let's chat! 

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Constructive Criticism Doesn’t Exist: Growth Requires Feedback—Not Judgment

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Stop “Shoulding” on Yourself: Rewriting the Rules Around Timelines, Success, and Self-Worth