Reflections on leadership, seasonality and the quiet work of change - an intimate monthly essay series from Between Seasons, exploring the deeper “why” behind sustainability and creative leadership. An invitation to pause, reflect and reconnect with your inner landscape.
This month marks ten years (!!!) since I walked into Eileen Fisher as a wide-eyed Social Innovator, jump-starting my career at a company where sustainability wasn’t something to fight for - it was woven into the fabric of the business.
My time there was cut short by a move to Australia (thank you, love), but in that year and a half I absorbed something I didn’t fully recognise then:
influence looks very different when sustainability is embedded, compared to when you’re the one pushing it uphill.
There’s the kind of influence that feels heavy.
The kind you’re probably used to - the uphill kind.
You know it if you’ve ever had to translate sustainability into someone else’s language just to gain a sliver of traction. You learn to fit yourself inside whatever message the business already cares about - risk, cost, brand, culture. You become a shapeshifter. A strategist. A patient gardener planting seeds you hope will take root months, maybe years, from now.
And beneath it all, there’s the quiet emotional labour of having to prove - over and over again - that your work matters at all.
That is what influence looks like when sustainability isn’t embedded.
Sound familiar?
But when sustainability is embedded, the whole texture of influence changes.
It’s not about being louder or tougher or endlessly persuasive. It’s about connection and sense-making. It’s about holding the space where complexity doesn’t feel overwhelming, because the system itself has learned how to carry some of the weight.
In those environments, you’re no longer the lone torchbearer. You don’t have to keep selling the same idea in ten different costumes. You get to guide, coordinate, curate. You get to look forward instead of always looking for an opening.
You’re proactive, instead of always on your toes bending backwards and putting out fires - while also trying to do the work.
The work still asks for influence - but it asks in a different tone.
When sustainability is embedded, the influence gets quieter.
When it’s part of the culture and the structure of a business, the spotlight shifts. Wins belong to the business, not to you. Your role becomes less about being the hero, more about being the gardener. You’re still vital, but you’re not always visible.
For some, that feels like a loss. After years of pushing uphill, it can be disorienting to step out of the fight and into the flow. You miss the adrenaline of resistance, the thrill of the breakthrough moment, and the drama of the people politics.
But it’s also liberating. Because suddenly the question is no longer whether the work will happen. The question becomes how well, and what’s next.
And that’s when influence expands.
Embedded sustainability doesn’t erase resistance. But it does change the shape of it. You’re not pushing uphill just to get to the starting line. You’re not fighting for permission. Instead, you’re helping to navigate trade-offs, sharpen priorities and guide the business toward smarter, more creative decisions.
It’s influence that feels less like dragging and more like steering. It’s less like a battle and more like choreography.
And honestly, that’s where things get exciting.
I think about the sustainability professionals I know who are stuck in the first kind of influence, exhausted from carrying the whole story on their backs. And I think about the ones who’ve made it to the second kind, learning how to be gardeners instead of torchbearers.
Both are hard. Both are worthy. But they aren’t the same.
So maybe the real question isn’t:
How do I become more influential?
Maybe it’s:
What kind of influence does this season of work actually need from me?
Because influence doesn’t have one shape - it evolves.
And the art is in recognising when it’s time to shift with it.
If you’ve spent years pushing sustainability uphill, carrying the weight of influence on your own, you’re not alone. Feeling the strain isn’t a failing - it’s a signal that the work needs to be shared. It needs to be embedded.
What would it look like if your role felt lighter? If accountability, momentum and ownership were woven into the system, instead of resting on your shoulders alone?
What small or large shifts are helping you move from doing it all yourself to guiding others to carry the work with you?
I’d love to hear how you’re navigating it.
And if you’re interested in the more actionable business-lens - join me over on LinkedIn. I share part-two of this series on Fridays in The Butter Field Brief.
Rooting for you always,
