Kind of a Wreck, Kind of a Leader

I took a course designed to help me better understand my leadership style. It’s been full of reflection, self-awareness, and moments that have quietly knocked the wind out of me.

One recent activity asked us to imagine a jar.

You start by filling it with big rocks, then smaller pebbles, and finally, sand. But if you begin with the sand, your big rocks won’t fit. The metaphor is clear: the big rocks are the things that matter most to you. You have to prioritize them first, or they’ll get squeezed out entirely.

We were asked to identify our four biggest rocks, the most important things in our lives. And not just name them, but define what they contain. Are they people? Places? Values? Nouns or adjectives or verbs? We then peer-reviewed one another’s submissions.

As I clicked through the other reflections, something struck me.

Many people wrote about family. Travel. Spirituality. Experiences. Their big rocks were personal, intimate, soft.

Mine were about work.

Every single one.

And while the activity wasn’t meant to judge our priorities, it hit me hard. Because I didn’t list family. I didn’t list health. I didn’t list joy.

I listed achievements. Leadership. Impact. Service.

All noble things. All deeply tied to my identity. But still, work.

And I think that’s what happens when you’ve been praised for your performance more than your presence. When your worth has been tied to what you do more than who you are. When perfectionism becomes a comfort zone. When being dependable becomes your defining trait.

This exercise didn’t shame me. It revealed something I can’t unsee.

Maybe I need to reorder the rocks. Not to erase what matters to me professionally. But to make more space for what matters to me personally.

Because when the jar is full, I want to be sure that I’m in it too.