People assume the surname Power is a declaration. It sounds like a brand name lacking subtlety. I have seen the reaction in board meetings and interviews: a flicker of amusement, expectation, or a competitive bristle. It feels heavy. But the truth is quieter. The name derives from the Old French povre, meaning poor. Robert Le Poer arrived in Ireland during the 1177 Norman settlement. His family took root in the southeast. Eventually, they held so much land in County Waterford it became known as "Power Country." In Irish, the name became de Paor. They built wealth from modest origins, keeping a name that marked their past rather than their future.
I was born in Durban, South Africa, not Waterford. My life took a nonlinear route through technology, leadership, and cross-cultural adaptation. The name traveled with me. The Power family crest features a lion rampant, signaling martial strength. I ignore the lion. I look at the Latin motto at the base: per crucem ad coronam. By the cross to the crown. This phrase is directional. You do not reach the crown by avoiding the cross or building a strategy around it. You reach the destination by going through the obstacle. The difficulty is the path.
I named my consulting practice The Crux. I chose the word for its Latin root meaning a decisive point. I also thought of the Southern Cross constellation from my childhood. Later, I realized crux literally translates to cross. The name of my practice was sitting inside my family motto. I did not plan this. There is something to be said for the names we are given before we understand them. They carry things we did not choose and could not have designed — etymologies, mottos, histories that run deeper than any brand architecture. The name Power does not mean what most people assume it means. It means something better. It means that the starting point was honest, the path went through the hardest part, and what was built on the other side was worth the crossing.
For the last 30 years, I have helped organizations find their consciousness gap. I identify the crux of their misalignment — the cross they actively avoid. I do the same with individual leaders, finding where their stated identity and actual behavior diverge. Healing that divergence is uncomfortable. There are no shortcuts to the crown. It is available through the willingness to be honest about what is actually happening, which is almost always harder and more uncomfortable than any of the alternatives.
This is the work.