What We Carry

Last week, I had the pleasure of working with one of my co-facilitators Annmarie for the first time on a face-to-face programme in Perth.

She arrived with lots of enthusiasm, humour, professionalism, and one very obvious accessory…

A moon boot.

Not a discreet little support… But a big, black, unmissable moon boot!

She explained that whilst on holiday she had injured her ankle and foot.

We started our session, and I noticed as she walked around the room, she was clearly uncomfortable at times.

Yet, she facilitated. She listened. She laughed. She adapted. She hobbled when she needed to hobble and kept going, doing remarkably well at times.

We found our rhythm together, adjusting around each other as she wandered, and we smiled at the many silly little “boot” moments.

That boot got me thinking.

In the Room

Some things people bring into a room are obvious. You cannot miss them. They are strapped on, sticking out, and occasionally making a dramatic appearance under the table.

But most things are not like that.

It’s me experience that people also bring tiredness. Pressure. Worry. Hope. Nerves. Grief. Frustration. Unanswered emails. Family concerns. Thoughts that won’t quite settle. Emotions that quietly shape behaviours.

In my case, I was also carrying the pain of Scotland’s result against Brazil.

Some injuries, of course, are harder to diagnose.

But that is the point…. We all bring something.

Some of it is visible and yet most of it is not.

And perhaps good leadership begins when we remember that. When we stop assuming that what we can see is the whole story. When we notice the person, not just the performance. When we make room for what people are carrying, even when they never say it out loud.

There is a thought I have always liked: day by day, it can feel as though nothing much changes, but when we look back, we realise everything is different.

That felt true last week.

At the start, Annmarie and I were simply two facilitators working together for the first time.

By the end, something had shifted.

A partnership had formed. Trust had grown. Laughter had done its quiet work. And a rather large moon boot had reminded me of a simple truth.

People rarely arrive empty-handed.

The question is whether we notice what they bring – and whether we create the kind of room where they do not have to carry it alone.

What might someone around you be carrying that you cannot see?