Issue 019 | I Could Carry It. That Was the Problem.

September Theme: Architect What You Carry

For most of my life, if something needed to get done, I could usually figure out how to do it.

That has served me well.

It has helped me build businesses.

Develop organizations.

Create programs.

Produce events.

Serve clients.

Lead ministries.

Raise children.

Care for family.

Navigate complicated situations.

Solve problems people brought to me because they knew I would probably find a way.

And for a long time, I thought that meant I had a lot of capacity.

I could do a lot.

So I assumed I could carry a lot.

Those are not the same thing.

It took me years to understand that.

And honestly, I think I am still understanding it.

There Was a Season When the Business Was Working

There was a period in my life when business was going well.

Clients were coming.

The work was meaningful.

The money was coming in.

I was doing what I knew how to do.

And I was good at it.

I could hold a lot of moving pieces at once.

I could work with clients, develop programs, create the strategy, manage the details, solve the problems and keep everything moving.

If something broke, I fixed it.

If something needed to be created, I created it.

If a deadline was approaching, I found a way to meet it.

If there was one more thing that needed to be carried, I usually carried that too.

From the outside, that looked like capacity.

And for a long time, I think I interpreted it that way too.

But something else was happening at the same time.

Home was adjusting around the business.

My family was learning how to function around my work.

There were things I simply wasn't as available for anymore.

And because the business was working, it was easy to tell myself that this was just part of the season.

You know how we do.

I'm building right now.

It won't always be like this.

This is what it takes.

Everybody has to sacrifice sometimes.

And none of those statements is completely untrue.

There are seasons when building requires more.

There are moments when sacrifice is necessary.

But somewhere along the way, I stopped asking how much of me the business was allowed to require.

One of My Sons Helped Me See It Differently

Years later, during a very different season of my life, my son Jonathan said something that I hadn’t heard him say before.

He talked about missing my cooking.

Not because I had suddenly forgotten how to cook.

But because there had been a season when I simply wasn't doing much of it.

I was working.

Building.

Serving.

Running.

Carrying.

And something about hearing him say that landed differently.

Because cooking is not really about the food for me.

It is one of the ways I care for my family.

It is being in the kitchen.

Everybody coming in and out.

Somebody asking what I'm making.

Somebody stealing something before dinner is ready. 😂

It is people sitting around the table.

Talking.

Laughing.

Being together.

It is one of those ordinary things you don't always recognize as important until you realize there was a season when there wasn't much room for it.

And these days, I notice those things differently.

I notice when I have time to make dinner.

I notice sitting with Victor for coffee time in the morning.

I notice having room to spend time with my children—well, men now—and grandchildren.

I notice being able to be present without mentally calculating everything I still need to finish.

And I think that's because I know what it feels like when your life begins accommodating the business instead of the business being designed to accommodate your life.

I Had Confused Ability With Capacity

This has become one of the biggest things I am having to rethink as I continue developing my work in Business Architecture.

For years, I measured capacity by what I could get done.

And because I could get a lot done, I assumed I had a lot of capacity.

But ability asks:

Can you do it?

Capacity asks a very different question:

What can your life sustainably hold?

Those questions can produce completely different answers.

Could I take another client?

Probably.

Could I work another ten hours?

Absolutely.

Could I stay up later?

Yes.

Could I solve another problem?

Most likely.

Could I carry another responsibility?

I've proven many times that I can.

But I don't think that's the right test anymore.

In fact, I know it's not.

Because being able to carry something is not evidence that it belongs in your hands.

And being capable of surviving the weight is not the same as having capacity for it.

That distinction has changed the way I think about business.

Because, who wants to just survive?

I Don't Want My Life Absorbing the Cost of My Success

I have become much less interested in building businesses that look successful while quietly requiring everything else to adjust around them.

I don't want my family absorbing the cost.

I don't want my relationships absorbing the cost.

I don't want my body absorbing the cost.

I don't want every quiet moment in my life to belong to something I still need to finish.

And I don't want to wait until something breaks before deciding the architecture was wrong.

That doesn't mean I don't want to work.

I love my work.

I love building.

I love creating.

I love helping people see what they couldn't see before.

But I no longer believe that loving the work means the work gets unlimited access to me.

That has really become important.

Because if the business can only succeed when I continually override the needs of the person carrying it, then I have to question what we are calling success.

The Visionary Has a Life Too

This is part of what I mean when I say:

The Visionary Comes First.

I don't mean the visionary gets everything they want.

I don't mean business should never stretch you.

And I certainly don't mean there won't be demanding seasons.

I mean the person carrying the vision has to be part of the architecture.

Their life matters.

Their energy matters.

Their relationships matter.

Their body matters.

Their responsibilities matter.

Their time matters.

And those things cannot remain invisible while we design the business.

I used to think my answer to capacity was:

Whatever it takes.

I don't believe that anymore.

Now I am much more interested in asking:

How much time does my life actually have available for the business?

That's a different question.

Because the business doesn't get first choice.

It gets what can be given without requiring the rest of my life to continually absorb the difference.

And I think highly capable people have to be especially careful here.

Because when you are good at carrying things, people will keep giving you things to carry.

Hello lights!!! (in my preacher voice)

Sometimes you will keep giving yourself things to carry too.

Not because they belong to you.

Because you know you can handle them.

I Keep Coming Back to the House

Last week, we talked about the oil already being in the house.

What are you actually carrying?

But I've realized there are really two sides to that question.

There is what you carry within you.

Your experience.

Your expertise.

Your judgment.

The things you've learned how to see, develop, teach, create or lead.

That's the oil.

But then there is what you carry on you.

The responsibilities.

The expectations.

The work you've continued carrying simply because you were capable of handling it.

And those two things cannot be treated the same.

What is within you may absolutely belong to you without requiring you to personally carry every expression of it.

Some responsibilities belonged to a season.

Others may need to be delegated, released or simply put down.

And some may still be sitting on your shoulders for one reason:

Because you can carry them.

That is not always enough.

The Architect's Question

So this week, I want to ask you the other side of the question:

What are you still carrying because you're capable of carrying it—not because it still belongs in your hands?

You've already proven you can manage a lot.

I'm asking something different.

What is getting less of you because something else keeps getting more?

Where have you been using endurance as evidence of capacity?

And if you stopped measuring capacity by everything you are capable of surviving, what would you decide you actually have room to carry?

You do not have to drop everything tomorrow.

Just tell yourself the truth about the weight.

Because I am becoming convinced that before we can intelligently architect a business around what you carry, we have to understand something about the person who will have to carry the business.

How are you built?

What does your life have room for?

What should require you—and what shouldn't?

That is part of the architecture too.

Maybe one of the most important parts.

Because The Visionary Comes First is not permission to make everything about you.

It is the recognition that you cannot keep designing businesses as though you don't exist.

The business has to account for the life of the person carrying the vision.

I didn't understand that when I thought capacity meant:

Whatever it takes.

I understand it differently now.

Some things are worth carrying.

Some things are worth building.

And some things—even things you are perfectly capable of doing—need to be put back down so there is room for the life you're actually trying to build.

I can carry this.

I just don't think I should anymore.

And sometimes, that is where better architecture begins.

Grace and peace,

— Angela

P.S. If you're new here—or this is your first time reading Visionary Architect—and something in this conversation made you want to stay close, I want to personally invite you into The Visionary Architect Room.

Opening in October, The Room will become the private home for future issues of Visionary Architect.

It will be where we continue these conversations beyond the inbox—with space to ask questions, revisit past issues, hear from me between publications, and access complimentary Business Architecture tools designed to help you build with greater clarity around the person carrying the vision.

Because the goal is not simply to build something successful.

It is to build something that can sustain the vision without losing the visionary in the process.

If that is the kind of business you want to build, you can join the early access list here:

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