That isn't failure. That is the cost of carrying anything valuable. Visuals: Speaker in center frame. Background is a workshop or empty room. A single pane of glass leans against the wall behind them.
Because a window doesn't weigh a thing. It just shows you the world.
We are all carrying glass.
So yes. I will carry the glass. I will walk slowly. I will not run just because you are impatient. Carry The Glass
I’ve been carrying this sheet for miles. Past crowds who don't see the edges. Past friends who lean on my shoulder. "Hold this," they say, not knowing I’m already full.
For the last six months, I’ve been 'Carrying The Glass' in my life. That means holding onto something that is both valuable and terrifyingly easy to destroy.
Don’t let the weight fool you—glass isn't heavy. It’s fragile . The danger isn't the load; it's the sudden turn, the misplaced step, the person who bumps into you without saying sorry. That isn't failure
Some of us know it. Some of us are running.
Carry it gently. Carry it with both hands. And if it breaks?
Don’t tell me it’s heavy. I know glass. It weighs nothing until it shatters. Background is a workshop or empty room
Stop carrying. Start seeing."
And when I finally set it down— When the frame is built and the window is in— I will finally see the sky clearly. Not through the cracks. But whole. Title: Stop Running: Why Leadership Means "Carrying The Glass"