A lot of things shifted when I turned fifty.

My sleep schedule, for one thing.

These days, I am in bed early and awake by 4AM. Yes, 4AM. I still get my full eight hours –I have just recalibrated when those hours happen. By 6:45AM, I am at my desk in the office, working through emails, Teams messages, and updates from colleagues across time zones. I draft most of my responses during these quiet morning hours, scheduling them to send at 9 AM so I do not become THAT person pinging the team at dawn and some other ungodly hour. By the time the workday officially starts, I have often cleared a third to half of my to-do list.

It has become an incredibly efficient system.

For me.

And that is the point I have to keep reminding myself: This rhythm is mine, and mine alone.

I cannot expect my team to operate at my pace. They have their own routines, their own productive hours, their own rhythms. Some are night owls. Others hit their stride mid-morning. A few do their best thinking in the afternoon lull that makes me want to nap and take a break.

Do I sometimes wish everyone moved at my speed? Absolutely. It would make certain projects fly ever so quickly and so efficiently. But that is not a reasonable expectation — and more importantly, it is not even a desirable one.

Here’s what I’ve learned: Even when our rhythms do not align, we can still create something remarkable together.

Leadership is not about getting everyone to march in lockstep to your beat. It is about recognizing that beautiful, productive work can emerge from what might initially feel like discordant rhythms.

As I have matured in age and in my role, I have come to understand that leadership starts with leading yourself first. It means acknowledging your own pace and working with it, not against it. It means maximizing your natural rhythms to deliver on both business and personal goals.

And perhaps most importantly, it means letting others do the same for themselves.

Patience, that virtue we’ve all heard about, becomes clearer with experience. It is not about passively waiting. It is about understanding that different does not mean wrong, and slower does not mean less committed.

This shift in perspective — from expecting others to match my rhythm to appreciating the harmony we create despite our differences — has brought me something unexpected: Peace of mind.

And at fifty, that peace matters more than ever.

It makes me a better leader, a better colleague, and frankly, a more content person.

So yes, I will keep waking up at 4 AM. I will keep conquering my to-do list before most people have had their first coffee.

But I will also keep celebrating when my team delivers brilliant work on their own timeline, in their own way.

Because that is what real leadership looks like: Finding the harmony in the diversity of rhythms.