Leave them at the edge of the river
There is an old story I keep coming back to. A senior monk and a junior monk were travelling together. At one point they came to a river with a strong current. As the monks were preparing to cross, they saw a very young and beautiful woman also trying to cross. She asked if they could help her to the other side. The two monks glanced at one another, because they had taken vows not to touch a woman. Then, without a word, the older monk picked her up, carried her across the river, placed her gently on the other side, and carried on his journey.
The younger monk could not believe what had just happened. After rejoining his companion he was speechless, and an hour passed without a word between them. Two more hours passed, then three, until he could not contain himself any longer and blurted out, "As monks, we are not permitted to touch a woman. How could you then carry that woman on your shoulders?" The older monk looked at him and replied, "Brother, I set her down on the other side of the river. Why are you still carrying her?"
The event is almost never the thing that slows a leader down. It is how long you keep carrying it. The older monk acted, then let it go. Non-attachment is not detachment, it is the discipline of setting things down so your judgement stays free for the next decision.
The one who kept carrying her
Notice who is exhausted at the end of that story. It is not the monk who did the lifting. It is the one who did nothing but replay it for three hours. That is the part I find uncomfortable, because it is so recognisable. I have sat in cars and boardrooms carrying a meeting that ended long ago, a comment someone made, a deal that went the other way. The thing itself was over. I was the one still lugging it up the hill.
Leaders do this constantly and call it diligence. We tell ourselves that turning a moment over and over is a form of care. Mostly it is not. It is a tax on the attention we owe to whatever is in front of us now. The younger monk was not being more principled than the older one. He was simply refusing to put something down.
Letting go is not the same as not caring
I want to be careful here, because non-attachment gets misread as indifference. That is not what the older monk models. He did care. He looked at a person who needed help and he helped, decisively, even though it cost him something. Then he stopped. Setting something down is not pretending it never happened, and it is not dodging accountability. You still learn the lesson, make the repair, and change what needs changing. What you drop is the replaying that continues long after the useful work is finished.
For a founder or a leader, that distinction is everything. If a hard conversation with a team member has to happen, have it, fully. If a decision was wrong, own it and correct it. But once the action is taken, the moment belongs on the other bank. Carrying it further does not make you more responsible. It just makes you heavier and slower for everyone who depends on you.
The weight that slows you down is rarely the thing itself. It is how long you keep carrying it.
How I try to set things down
In practice this is a small, repeatable habit rather than a grand philosophy. When something lands on me, I try to name it plainly, take the one action it genuinely requires, and then decide it is finished. If I catch myself relitigating a decision for the fourth time, that is my signal that I am carrying, not thinking. Writing the decision down helps. So does saying it out loud to my team, because a closed loop is much easier to leave behind than an open one.
The same principle runs through how I make things. On the podcasting side of my work, one recorded conversation becomes a month of output, and then I move on to the next recording rather than fussing over the last. I wrote more about that rhythm of putting things down and moving forward in what survives a busy week. The leaders I admire most are not the ones with the tightest grip. They are the ones who can take a hit, learn from it, and be genuinely present in the very next room.
Advisory and delivery, one system
This is also why I keep strategy and delivery close together but clearly separated. When I advise a founder or a leader, my job is to help them make the call and then let it go, not to hover over every consequence. The building, the shipping and the follow through are handled by my team at TIM Africa, which means a decision does not have to sit on one person's shoulders across the whole river. Set it down on the right bank, hand it to the right people, and keep walking. That is not looseness. It is what lets you stay clear headed enough to make the next good decision.
Questions people ask
What does the story of the two monks teach about leadership?
It teaches that the event is rarely the problem. The older monk acted, then let it go. The younger monk carried the moment for hours. Good leaders deal with what is in front of them and then set it down, so their attention stays free for the next decision.
How do I stop carrying things after they happen?
Name the thing plainly, take the one action it actually requires, and then decide it is finished. Rumination is not diligence. Write the decision down if you must, close the loop, and return your focus to the work that is still live rather than the moment that is already behind you.
Does letting go mean I stop caring or avoid accountability?
No. Letting go is not the same as not caring. You still learn the lesson, make the repair, and change what needs to change. Setting something down means you stop replaying it long after the useful work is done, which is what protects your judgement.
Why does non-attachment make someone a better leader?
A leader who is not attached to a single outcome, grudge or version of themselves can change their mind, take a hit, and keep moving. That lightness lets a team trust that yesterday will not be relitigated today, which frees everyone to do braver work.
Make the call, then set it down.
Strategy from me, delivery from my team at TIM Africa.