Capacity Is Not Capability

By: Liz Lazar, Co-Founder & Principal

Recently I’ve been feeling stretched to capacity.  I’m building a consulting business, parenting two young kids, managing a household, trying to attend to my own needs, and handling all the ordinary demands that don’t stop simply because I’m tired. More nights than not, I fall into bed completely exhausted.

I keep telling myself this is temporary. It’s a phase of life. My kids won’t always need me in the ways they do now. The consultancy won’t always require so much building. Eventually, there will be more room.  All of that may be true, but knowing a difficult season is temporary doesn’t make you less tired while you’re living it.

I think the hardest part for me has been reconciling my current capacity with the person I know myself to be. I have always been someone who can handle a lot. I work hard. I care deeply about doing good work. I’m reliable, resourceful, and accustomed to figuring things out.  None of that has changed.  I have not become less capable, less committed, or less ambitious. I simply have less available capacity.

We don’t always make that distinction in professional life. Instead, we treat capacity as if it were a character trait. The person who can absorb another project, answer emails at night, or keep producing through a difficult season is viewed as dedicated. The person who needs flexibility, says no, or acknowledges that something has to give can be perceived as less motivated.  But capacity is not fixed, it changes again and again across our lives.  It changes when we become parents or caregivers. It changes with illness, grief, financial pressure, family transitions, and mental health. It can even change when several good things demand our attention at the same time. These circumstances affect how much of ourselves we have available, but they do not erase our experience, judgment, creativity, or work ethic.

There is an interesting kind of grief in knowing you are still capable of doing everything you once did, but not all at once and not right now.  It can be a difficult truth for many of us to accept, particularly when so much of our identity has been built around being the person who can handle it. We look at what we are not getting done and assume we need more discipline, better time management, or stronger boundaries. Sometimes those things help. Sometimes there are simply more legitimate demands than one person can meet without becoming depleted.

I wish I could share a tidy lesson about how this realization has led me to finding some kind of balance, but it hasn’t.  I desperately need a break, and I also know that a real break is not always available simply because I recognize the need for one. For now, I’m trying to be more honest about the difference between what I am capable of and what I have the capacity to carry in this season.

This distinction matters in the workplace, too.  Good leaders hold people accountable, but they also recognize that employees are human and their capacity will change over time. They don’t mistake temporary limits for a lack of talent or commitment. They ask what is truly essential, what can wait, and what support would make the work sustainable.  The same can be said for organizations. A nonprofit can have talented people, a strong strategy, and complete commitment to its mission while still lacking the capacity to execute everything it hopes to accomplish. Asking people to care more will not create additional hours, more staff, or added energy.

Sometimes the most responsible thing a person or organization can acknowledge is: we can do this, but we cannot do all of it right now.  I am still the same professional I have always been. I still bring the same experience and commitment to my work. I am also a person in an especially demanding phase of life.  Both things are true. What matters is remembering that while our capacity may change, our value does not.