Written by: Debbie Owen on November 17, 2025

We had met once before in the larger group of ten participants, but this week the small groups—three participants plus me as the facilitator—were meeting for the first time. These smaller gatherings require engagement. The intentional design behind them is simple: healing happens through vulnerability, and vulnerability requires both safety and presence. Curt Thompson writes, “The question is not if we are or will be vulnerable but rather how and when we enter into it consciously and intentionally for the sake of creating a world of goodness and beauty.” [1]  Transformation occurs when we risk being seen in the presence of others who bear witness with compassion.

One participant—I’ll call her Rose—arrived 30 minutes late because of a work commitment. The other two women and I had already begun to get acquainted, and the conversation was quickly becoming comfortably animated. I knew each of these women a little, though they didn’t know each other at all. None of us knew Rose very well, not even me.

At first, Rose remained quiet, listening with careful attention but saying little. Then one of the other participants gently drew her in, asking warm and genuine questions. Slowly, Rose began to open. By the end of our time together, the guarded, slightly wary expression she had carried into the meeting had softened into a smile. When the small group met again the following week, all three arrived eager to reconnect and share more of their stories and spiritual journeys.

It was a small moment, but a powerful one. The movement from guardedness to grace-filled connection was visible, even tangible. These women were embodying two of the core postures of transformational leadership: courageous presence and undefended trust.

Across four semesters of leadership courses—and three international intensives—exploring slavery, apartheid, gender, trauma, identity, economics, psychology, and religious history, I have slowly come to recognize that these postures form the heart of faithful leadership. Among all the books we have read, two in particular have reshaped my understanding: Edwin Friedman’s A Failure of Nerve and Simon Walker’s Leading Out of Who You Are, the first volume of The Undefended Leader trilogy. Together, they have become the conceptual backbone of my emerging theology of leadership.

These insights shaped my doctoral project as well. At the top of the curriculum outline for Inside-Out Leadership: A Wellspring Model for Renewal and Transformation in Ministry, I wrote about the purpose:

“To cultivate undefended, non-anxious, and differentiated leaders who are deeply rooted in Christ and formed by the inner life of the Spirit. Through the integration of spiritual formation, neuroscience, and practical leadership development, this program fosters inside-out transformation that leads to lifelong resilience, wholeness, and flourishing in life and ministry.”

When I first encountered them, these three descriptors—undefended, non-anxious, and differentiated—were threshold concepts for me. I have learned that they are deliberate postures that often run counter to our natural impulses toward self-protection, control, image-management, and absorption into communal anxiety. Once I encountered these ideas, I began to recognize with greater self-awareness when I was not living from the truest version of myself, the self grounded in sacred belovedness and formed by God’s grace.

These concepts do not stand alone. They converge with—and are reinforced by—many of the other frameworks I have studied: attachment theory (Todd Hall, Dan Siegel, Jim Wilder), narrative healing (Curt Thompson), spiritual formation (Hudson and Haas), and theological anthropology (Cyd and Geoff Holsclaw). In syntopical terms, they exhibit consilience, appearing in psychology, neuroscience, theology, spiritual direction, and systems theory. When a concept emerges across multiple disciplines, its reliability increases and its truth becomes more deeply rooted.

It is within this consilient framework that Friedman and Walker have become essential guides to my leadership identity.

II. Friedman: Differentiation, Nerve, and Non-Anxious Presence

A year or more after first reading Friedman’s A Failure of Nerve, I could engage with it in greater depth. What now stands out is his conviction that leadership begins not in skill but in self. He writes, “The way out requires shifting our orientation to the way we think about relationships, from one that focuses on techniques that motivate others to one that focuses on the leader’s own presence and being.” [2] The central task of the leader, in Friedman’s view, is to cultivate a well-defined, well-regulated presence within an anxious system. The leader’s internal state—differentiated, connected, and courageous—matters more than technique or consensus.

Friedman’s language of “nerve” is often misunderstood as boldness. But I believe he means something more spiritually resonant: nerve as emotional stamina, the capacity to remain present without becoming fused with the anxiety of the group or reacting with defensive overfunctioning. “Differentiation has less to do with a person’s behavior than with his or her emotional being.” [3] This is relational courage—not getting sucked into everyone else’s anxieties.

This became a threshold moment for me. Once I understood that leadership presence was fundamentally about regulating myself rather than managing others, everything shifted. I began noticing group anxiety, triangulation, reactivity, and sabotage—and I also noticed the emotional reactions and responses within myself, the inner tensions and fear of disappointing others. These were evidence of my own entanglement in anxious systems.

Friedman taught me that anxiety is contagious, but so is calm. Differentiation, for him, is not withdrawal; it is remaining connected while staying anchored in one’s values and identity. This aligns with Todd Hall’s insight that “Secure attachment bonds help us to learn that we are capable of managing distress with the help of others and that others will provide comfort when we need it…you develop an internal ‘secure base.’” [4]  

Curt Thompson adds that shame—fear of being exposed—drives much of our reactivity. Naming shame in the presence of grace allows the nervous system to settle, making non-anxious presence possible. [5]  Trevor Hudson and Jerry Haas’s Cycle of Grace similarly shows that leaders who begin with belovedness lead from fullness rather than desperation. [6] Grace becomes an internal ballast.

As I look back, I can see specific moments when insights from Friedman and these others shaped my reactions in exhausting rehearsals, difficult meetings, and pastoral conversations. In each, I sensed a new internal spaciousness, an ability to stay present without absorbing the urgency around me. This is where systems theory became soul formation.

III. Walker: Undefended Leadership and the Healing of the Ego

If Friedman taught me that leadership requires emotional courage, Walker taught me why courage is so difficult: most of us lead from a defended ego. In Leading Out of Who You Are, he describes how leaders adopt “ego structures”—roles we construct to protect ourselves when we feel inadequate or unseen. For some, the ego becomes a performance engine; for others, a shield. Either way, energy is spent on impression management rather than presence. [7]  

Revisiting Walker this semester revealed how often I relied on competence and control as a form of defense. His vision of the undefended leader became another threshold moment: leadership is not an act of self-protection but of self-giving. Power becomes love when the ego is integrated rather than armored.

Walker’s framework resonates with Hudson and Haas’s insistence that acceptance precedes significance, [8] with Hall’s argument that secure attachment makes vulnerability possible, [9] and with Thompson’s insight that shame drives us into hiding. [10] Together, they helped me see that undefended leadership is not weakness but maturity—a soul settled enough to be courageous without striving.

IV. Consilience: Where These Frameworks Converge

Revisiting Friedman and Walker alongside other authors revealed a striking pattern of consilience of ideas across theology, psychology, neuroscience, and leadership studies. Though they write from different disciplines, their insights converge toward a single vision of how leaders grow: from defended performance into integrated, grace-formed presence.

Hudson and Haas offer the theological foundation. In The Cycle of Grace, they insist that identity begins in belovedness. Trying to lead from significance fractures the soul; beginning in grace creates the inner freedom required for mature leadership. [11] This mirrors Walker’s ego model and Friedman’s differentiation.

Todd Hall extends this with an attachment-based understanding of spiritual formation: transformation happens in securely attuned relationships, where love regulates fear. [12] This is the relational bedrock beneath both non-anxious and undefended leadership.

Curt Thompson adds that shame fractures the self, driving us to hide. Healing begins when we narrate our stories in the presence of grace-filled others. [13] Vulnerability becomes the bridge between fragmentation and wholeness.

Cyd and Geoff Holsclaw complement this by mapping the “landscapes of the soul,” naming how emotional patterns and internal voices shape how we show up in the world. [14]  

Across these voices, a coherent anthropology emerges: leaders are formed from the inside out—through belovedness, attachment, vulnerability, integration, and grace.

V. Soul and Identity Mapping: How Leadership Is Reshaping Me

As these frameworks converged, they began to reshape my inner life. The most significant shift has been the (attempted) movement from performance-driven responsibility to grace-formed presence.

Friedman helped me recognize how I sometimes absorb the emotional climate of a group and feel responsible for holding everything together. Walker revealed how my competence can become a form of protection. Hall helped me see how attachment patterns often shape my reactivity. Thompson helped me notice shame’s role in my defensiveness. Hudson and Haas helped me see belovedness as the true starting point.

These converging insights became embodied in my Wellspring small groups and in my own use of the ARK of Integrity—Aware, Reflect, Know. Noticing feelings, naming triggers, and choosing responses aligned with values helped me experience leadership as formation, not performance.

Slowly, I am learning to lead from a more integrated place—present without fear, curious without defensiveness, courageous without striving. This is the soul-work of leadership: letting grace make me whole.

VI. Conclusion

Revisiting Friedman and Walker through the lenses of attachment, spiritual formation, and the Cycle of Grace has revealed a coherent truth: leadership is formed from the inside out. Differentiation and undefended presence are not merely leadership strategies; they are spiritual postures rooted in belovedness, vulnerability, and emotional integration. The threshold moments in my own learning—discovering where anxiety shapes my reactions, recognizing how defense shapes my ego, and practicing grace in community—have begun to reform my identity as a leader.

These authors have taught me that courage grows from connection, clarity grows from integration, and transformation grows from grace. As I continue this journey, I sense new thresholds emerging—an invitation to lead with greater presence, humility, and trust. This is the soul of leadership: to be healed into wholeness so that others may flourish.

1. Curt Thompson, The Soul of Shame: Retelling the Stories We Believe About Ourselves (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2015), 120.
2. Edwin H. Friedman, A Failure of Nerve: Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix, rev. ed. (New York: Seabury Books, 2007), 4.
3. Friedman, 195.
4. Todd W. Hall, The Connected Life: The Art and Science of Relational Spirituality (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2021), 105.
5. Thompson, 125.
6. Trevor Hudson and Jerry Haas, The Cycle of Grace: Living in Sacred Balance (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2007), 19.
7. Simon P. Walker, Leading Out of Who You Are: Discovering the Secret of Undefended Leadership (Carlisle: Piquant, 2007), 24.
8. Hudson and Haas, 19.
9. Hall, 105.
10. Thompson, 63.
11. Hudson and Haas, 31.
12. Hall, 140.
13. Thompson, 141.
14. Cyd Holsclaw and Geoff Holsclaw, Landscapes of the Soul: How the Science of Spirituality of Attachment Can Move You into Confident Faith, Courage, and Connection (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2024), 7.

About the Author

Debbie Owen

Deborah C. Owen is an experienced spiritual director, Neuro-based Enneagram executive and life coach, disciple maker, professional writer, senior librarian, and long-time church Music Director and lay leader. She has earned the award of National Board Certification for teaching excellence, and a podcasting award, and is pursuing a Doctor of Leadership degree through Portland Seminary at George Fox University. She lives in the backwoods of Maine with her husband and flat-coated retriever. She spends as much time as she can with their 3 grown children, daughter-in-law, and 2 small grandchildren. Find her online at InsideOutMinistries.info.

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