ENSŌ, A Tree Still Grows: How to deepen your roots to find calm. (Hardcover) (ISBN-13: 9781834180632)

And so... enso...

They sounded alike. That alone caught my attention.

Each word that followed felt like a gentle nudge toward a truth I hadn't yet named.

I pictured my Jiichan-my Japanese grandfather-his steady hand painting the enso circle in a single, unbroken breath. That image stayed with me. Something about it softened the tight grip I'd been holding. I didn't have language for it yet, but I could feel the shift beginning.

An anxiety I never had was forming inside me-something I could feel but was struggling to name. I had simply outgrown the mould I'd been shaped to fit. I'd built a life of constant output, constant proving. My roots couldn't breathe. The pot was cracking.

The English language is structured around hierarchy, proving, and finality. Leadership was mirroring that. It was rewarding the forcing, the external reaching, the control and the fear. But what if those strengths are carrying too much of the weight? What if the human side of you-the part that longs for flow, that feels the rhythms of nature, that knows that in stillness the creative self emerges-is ready to lead too?

In this grounded and spacious guide, Canadian-Japanese author Anette Lan offers her Enso Moments-a way of returning to what has always been quietly true. Drawing on the metaphor of the tree, her mother's Japanese roots, and the deep wisdom of 心 (kokoro)-a word that integrates heart, mind and spirit-she invites you to move through the four natural seasons of inner growth: rooting, rising, releasing, and renewal.

You'll remember how to root yourself when everything around you feels uncertain. You'll reclaim your presence in spaces that ask you to perform. You'll learn how to lead with calm flow. And most of all, you'll begin to trust the parts of you that aren't always loud-but are always true.

This isn't about doing more. It's about pausing to feel who you are underneath the title.

If leadership has started to feel like something you survive rather than something that expands you, this is your moment. Let this book be your quiet permission to be still and listen to your kokoro.

Enso, let this book be your permission to pause.