Mindset Matters

  This morning I was running on the treadmill with an empty treadmill right beside me. This is nothing out of the ordinary since I intentionally plan my workouts at times when the gym is not busy. However, this time that empty treadmill meant much more than just a slow time at the gym. About three weeks ago I was on the same treadmill as I was this morning, and my friend J was on the treadmill beside me. I was cooling down from my workout and just able to catch my breath enough to chat with J for a while. We shared a couple of laughs, talked about some struggles, and then went our separate ways. How was I to know that would be the last time I would ever see him? Three nights ago, I received a text that J had passed away earlier that evening. J is a big, strong guy in his mid-40s, and his passing came as a complete shock. I sat on the couch in stunned silence as I digested the tragic news. This morning, the sight of that empty treadmill hit me hard. J will never walk beside me aga

  When I began my journey as a financial planner nearly a decade and a half ago, the world economy was setting the stage for the financial meltdown of 2008/2009 and arguably the most severe financial storm since the Great Depression. As my own career struggled to take flight, people everywhere were losing jobs and retirement accounts were being halved. And amidst the increasingly ominous news reports, the mounting fear and panic added only more injury to personal circumstances as investors made devastating mistakes that placed their financial futures in even greater jeopardy. It was in this chaos I felt it was my job, my duty even, to help people prevent financial mistakes and do everything in my power to ensure they did not run out of money in retirement. It was, and still is, a noble endeavor. But I have learned a few things along the way, and realize now, that mission was just the tip of the iceberg. I have learned that managing money is the easy part and the more critical piece

  “Intentional living is the art of making our own choices before others’ choices make you.” – Richie Norton   I am not even sure who Richie Norton is, but I love that quote! I imagine a ship drifting out to sea, pushed around by the wind and the waves. No course of direction, yet the captain is frustrated when the ship ends up dashed against the rocks, trapped on a sandbar or marooned on an inhospitable island. It is easy to complain when life takes us where we do not want to go. But who is really to blame if we have never set our sails to align us along an appropriate course? Do we blame the waves, wind and the weather? Or should we blame the captain of the ship? It is our life and our ship. We must set our sails with intentionality and determined choices. Otherwise, we are doomed to aimlessly drift along according to the choices and decisions of others. 

  Being able to survive and exist in this country has become so easy we have taken it for granted. We have been so insulated from life-threatening risks that we have allowed our definitions of life and living to migrate from where they probably should be. Now, in the wake of Covid 19, we are all kinds of confused as to what living and being alive should actually look like. Now, I think we can all agree that the absence of breath definitely means you are dead. But does the presence of it automatically mean you are alive? Just because you can fog a mirror, are you really living? I fear that we have failed to recognize that living should mean a lot more than not dying. Having a pulse is a lot different than having a purpose. You can survive with just a pulse, but you cannot thrive without a purpose. To merely exist, you only need the former, but to truly be alive, you must have both. 

  Excellence is an evanescent occurrence. It is not a status we can attain or an achievement we accomplish. Realizing it in one moment does not secure it in the next. We cannot hold on to it by sheer force of will or secure it indefinitely. Excellence is a journey, not a destination. It is a path we must decide to walk each day. Excellence is a choice we must make continually. Excellence demands a price. A price that must be paid for in sacrifice, dedication and determination. It must be earned. But it is not an acquisition or a possession. Nor can it be stored up for the future. It is an association, a relationship, that must be purchased moment by moment. 

  The Chinese used to employ a form of torture known as “Lingchi,” which is roughly translated as “slow death” or “lingering death.” We know it as “death by a thousand cuts.” It was the brutal and horrific process of slowly dismembering someone one small cut or slice at a time. All too often, we inflict similar acts of torture in our own lives and on ourselves. No one wakes up in the morning thinking to themselves, “Today is the day I destroy my life.” Yet, the choices we make throughout the day might make one wonder if that was the case. Although we may not make the conscious decision to ruin our lives – or to destroy our health, or to sabotage our career, or to endanger our marriage – the way we go about our lives often produces small but significant trauma that does exactly that, slice by slice. It is death by a thousand cuts. Lingchi. It was not any one deep-fried candy bar or skipped cardio session that caused the heart attack. Nor was it a single miscommunication that disso

  Today is moving day. I do NOT like moving. Thankfully, this is “just” an office move and I am not moving my primary residence. Furthermore, the space into which our company is moving is quite the upgrade, both in size and quality. It is a good thing, a great thing, even if I don’t like moving. But I am still feeling the stress of the transition. Many moving parts. Utilities that must be transferred over. Forwarding addresses. New furniture and décor that must be ordered. Just the simple shift from the “norm” adds stress and discomfort. There are a lot of little pieces that must fall into place. But as I am packing up my office, I am finding precious treasure. Not silver or gold, but treasure far more valuable. There are notes from my children stuffed into drawers and envelopes that I have not seen in years. Notes that were scribbled by kids who were kindergarteners at the time but now are almost as tall as me. I came across letters and cards from my wife. Family photos. There

  Today was another painful Leg Day at the gym. At one particular moment after a set of squats, I looked up at my own reflection in the mirror after re-racking the bar and noticed a large drop of water running down my cheek. I’m 95% sure it was sweat, but the way it was traveling down my face, it looked like it could have also been a tear. I remember thinking, “That last set was painful enough, maybe I am crying!” So, who knows?!? Maybe it was a tear after all. But either way, it was a reminder to me I must be willing to experience both sweat and tears along life’s journey. Both represent vulnerability. You can’t hide your effort when there are sweat beads forming on your brow. Nor can you hide your pain if there are tears running down your checks. Both represent being uncomfortable. Both represent a form of sacrifice. And in a society that celebrates comfort and the avoidance of pain, both sweat and tears will certainly make you stand out. But both are also necessary to living

  There is a powerlifting routine I employ from time to time known as “German Volume Training,” or simply, “GVT.” With GVT, the focus of a workout is on only one main lift, but a great deal of both time and effort is spent on that one exercise, hence the “volume” part of the name. For example, on squat day, I would do a thorough warm up, work up to a moderately heavy weight (about 75-80% of my max) and then proceed to do 10 sets at that weight. No one set is overwhelmingly difficult, but the accumulation of the workload is brutal. Because of the sustained focus this routine requires, I typically use hashmarks on a piece of paper to track the sets so I don’t have to remember which number I am on. Just one less thing for my brain to have to do while I struggle to remain engaged. Each hash mark is a little victory as I work my way through the 10 sets. However, when I get to my tenth set, I don’t put down the final hashmark. I always stop at nine. I’ve been omitting the final mark fo

  There is a phrase you may have heard, “The more you sweat, the luckier you get.” I think there is often a fine line between luck and persistence. Imagine you are a baseball player and every time you are up to bat, you close your eyes and swing for the fences (granted, this is not a great strategy for success, but humor me for a moment). Even though your eyes are closed, if you have enough at-bats, eventually you will connect. So, what do we call it when you finally hit a home run? Yes, in that one at-bat, it sure seems like luck. But if that was your ten thousandth attempt, it begins to feel more like perseverance and persistence. They say Thomas Edison invented the filament that would make his incandescent light bulb possible with his ten thousandth experiment. Was he lucky? I think we can all look at someone like Edison and agree he had perseverance, not luck. He was committed and persistent, yet there still may have been a certain amount of luck in that final experiment. Howev

  We are an impatient bunch. We don’t just want the quick fix; we also want the extra mile without walking out that distance. We want to magically end up at the end of the mile. If we could simply teleport to the finish line, that would make us all much happier. We look for the giant leap but overlook the small steps. We seek out the next Big Thing that will turn our life around rather than make the many minute but intentional course corrections to get us going in the right direction.   Progress in life is often scraped together just inches at a time. It is easy to get caught up looking for the next mile, the next yard or even the next foot. But we must not be fixated on uncovering only the solutions that launch us forward the next mile when the inches we need are all around us.

  A couple of days ago I was in a situation that provided me with some very palpable reminders of the loss of a great friend. There was a particular moment that flooded me with emotion and brought me to a place where time stood still. More than standing still, time felt warped. My friend’s passing felt as present as if it was happening all over again. The feelings and reactions I felt three years ago were almost tangible, just like the desk in front of me on which my fingertips were resting. The emotions of that loss pierced my soul like a double-edged sword. Powerful and raw, they were nearly overwhelming. But only one of those edges was pain. Uncomfortable as the hurt was, the other edge the emotion brought with it was joy. Not joy in the loss, but joy stemming from the gratitude that I had something, someone, so precious to lose. I have a good life, a great life, filled with countless blessings. But like all of us, I can get caught up dwelling on the experience of loss. And if I

  Hope is a great feeling. It can be fun and exciting to experience hope. Hope is necessary for a positive outlook in life. Hope is a great subject for Hallmark cards. But hope alone is not enough. Hope without a plan becomes frustrating. It can actually become a burden. An irritant. Hope without a plan can leave us feeling helpless once the initial emotions have subsided because we have an idea of how things could be with no strategy for making it so. That is where vision must come in. Vision is hope married to a plan. Vision is not just imagining how things could be, but also seeing a potential pathway to that desired future. Hope might be the spark, but vision is what keeps the fire burning. Proverbs says that “hope deferred makes the heart sick.” Without it we become depressed. Our actions seem futile. We may lack meaning and purpose. Yes, hope is important. But hope dies in the absence of a plan. Proverbs also says, “where there is no vision, the people perish.” We need vi

  Sometimes the blank page in front of me can be intimidating. When the motivation is fading and the inspiration is fleeting, just the act of beginning can be a huge hurdle. Where do I even start? That feeling can carry over far beyond a literal blank page or empty canvas. In life, we are often faced with a task, a journey, or even a battle and the path ahead is unclear. There is no clear starting line, no preset course, no road map. Not knowing where to begin is overwhelming. What do you do? When we are facing those moments, it is easy to freeze up or even retreat. Maybe we tell ourselves we are waiting for more information, more clarity or more motivation. We say we are holding out until we can determine the best way forward. But life rarely affords us that privilege – identifying the “best” course of action. Often, we must choose a path, and then fully commit. The success or failure of the decision rests not so much in the particular road we chose, but rather in the level of

  If we are being really honest with ourselves, we must admit that each of us has a master. I don’t mean a boss, an employer, or a team leader or someone else who orders us around from time to time. I mean we are each slaves. Twenty-four seven, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, slaves. We live in constant subjugation to our habits, whether good or bad. Habits rule our lives. They are the building blocks of our days, weeks, months and years. To a great extent, our habits determine where we end up in life and how much joy and fulfillment we experience along the way. In many respects, our lives are a product of our habits. However, even though we are in bondage to our habits, that servitude is not fixed. Unlike a traditional slave, we have the freedom to choose our master. We can flee the ruthless and destructive habits that wreak havoc in our lives, but only if we run to a new master. We can only break those bonds by creating new ones – replacing our cruel master with new, constr

  We have all heard the saying, “You never get a second chance at a first impression.” And first impressions are certainly important. It is difficult to break the initial perspective we have of someone or something. A negative experience early on can leave a residue tainting any subsequent interaction. It is why we try so hard to make a good first impression when we meet people, because a bad one never quite wears off. For the same reason, it is crucial to have an intentional and constructive morning routine. You have never met this day before and it is imperative that you start this relationship on the right foot. If your initial interaction is tainted with negative experiences, it will likely leave a harmful residue on the remainder of the day. A blaring alarm clock is already a rocky beginning. Then checking the emails from the office reminding you of all the work you must do later, including the meeting with Bad Body Odor Guy and Shrill Voice Lady, do not make it much better. Openi

  Why are we so fixated on the familiar? Why do some of us fight so hard to maintain the status quo even when we simultaneously complain about it? I think part of the issue is that we confuse stability with safety. When life is rapidly changing and circumstances are evolving quickly, we feel unsettled and anxious. Because instability can feel so threatening, it is easy to assume – even if subconsciously – that the opposite must be true: that stability equals safety and predictability brings protection. This can be a dangerous assumption. Because of our hard-wired desire for stability, we can mistakenly choose to stay in a boat slowly sinking in the harbor, rather than board a ship setting out for the ocean. Yes, the vessel on the open seas will hit turbulent waves and encounter storms, but it will also move you along and give you a chance to get to where you need to be. The boat in the harbor might be comfortable – at least for the moment – but you slowly descend into stagnant waters.

  People are naturally pretty good at managing problems. However, when it comes to solving them, human beings fall quite short. We typically look to apply bandages or treat symptoms rather than finding an actual solution. Let me clarify what I mean. Let’s say your car has an oil leak. Super frustrating. But it is a busy week, and you don’t have time to take it down to the shop, so you clean up the oil spot every few days and plan to get the leak fixed down the road at a “more convenient time.” Well, it is never really a “convenient time” to take the car into the shop and the problem persists. Soon, your oil levels are now running a little low, so you stop by the store to buy a couple quarts of oil. You top off the oil, clean up the oil spot in the garage and you are back in business. Every few days you have to clean up the garage floor and every few weeks you have to add a quart or two of oil. It only takes a few minutes each time, but it is a never-ending process. In the moment, i

  I think we sometimes confuse passivity with patience. A patient farmer does not stare at his field each morning from a rocking chair, sipping sweet tea as he waits for his crops to grow. That has nothing to do with patience. It is simply being passive, if not just plain lazy. No, the patient farmer gets up early and works the field. He tills the ground, breaking up the hard soil to prepare the field to produce fruit in the future. He plants seeds of opportunity. He waters and fertilizes, ensuring those seeds have the resources and nourishment necessary to flourish. He tirelessly tracks down and eliminates the weeds in the soil that might steal resources from his seeds and choke out their opportunity. Patience is not merely a state of mind, it is a way of living. It is not inaction, but rather, it is the execution of deliberate and determined activities today, in hopes of a future payoff. It is planting now to harvest later. Patience is an activity.  Photo by Markus Spiske on U

I used to love the old 1960’s show, The Lone Ranger . It’s about one dude who rolls into town, fights the bad guys, saves the day and figures out all the problems by himself. I think our society has grown to love and admire that type of character more and more. The self-made man or woman, the solo climber, the person who surmounted seemingly impossible obstacles alone without needing anyone else. It is the ideal that brought us Rambo and the one-man army. Americans love the idea of independence, but we sometimes miss the reality of interdependence. Rambo doesn’t exist. And if he did, he would not have survived long. Even the Lone Ranger had Tonto. In life, we are all faced with mountains we must overcome. We sometimes place pressure on ourselves that we must go it alone. This is our obstacle and our journey alone. We must be a solo climber. But the solo ascent should be the exception, not the rule.   We need other climbers to get us to take one more step when all we want to do is sit d

  Outcomes have a funny way of mirroring inputs. Just like your physical appearance is generally a mirror of what you put into it – both the quality of food and physical activity – your life is also a generally mirror of the various habits and routines that make up your life. Problems arise when there is a disconnect between the quality of the desired results and the quality of our inputs. We fall into the trap of expecting excellent results from mediocre inputs. We sometimes get surprised when we don’t get A’s on the tests of life even though we put in C-level effort and commitment. It is like practicing with the JV squad all week and expecting to play on varsity on game day. If we do not like the outcomes and results in our lives, we need to take a hard look at the inputs: the habits, routines and life choices that we tolerate. Half-hearted inputs typically lead to half-baked results. Results mirror inputs.

  It is good to have goals. It is good to be driven and ambitious. It is good to make short-term sacrifices for long-term benefits. It is good to be future-focused. But can all that get me into trouble? I characterize myself as being driven and disciplined. I have no problem homing in on an objective and going all out to achieve it, even if that means giving up a lot in the short to intermediate future. Yes, all that can be good. But I must be careful to avoid putting on blinders that keep my focus on the future but might also cause me to miss the present. If I am not cautious, I might find myself running past true joy in the present while I chase what I think might bring me happiness in the future. This is not a hypothetical risk. The ambitious, hard-drivers fall prey to this present-blindness all too often. How many people chose the wrong goal – for sake of illustration, let’s call it wealth for wealth’s own sake – and they sacrifice everything to achieve it? They alienate fami

  “Knowledge is power.” I think that quote has been attributed to both Thomas Jefferson and Sir Francis Bacon, and both guys had plenty of it. It was also the theme of a public service message when I was kid, encouraging children to read more often. I agree with the sentiment: knowledge is certainly important. But is knowledge alone power? Or is it like a lightbulb, requiring a separate power source in order to be effective? Or maybe even like an engine, capable of producing power, but still requiring ignition of some sort before that force can be generated? In that sense, knowledge would be potential. It might hold powerful possibilities, but still depends on an outside energy source to be unleashed. Knowledge alone is just latent potential. It is possibility waiting for a spark, for activation. Knowledge thirsts for action. But knowledge teamed with appropriate action, that is a powerful force indeed. 

  Inaction destroys far more lives than ignorance. Sure, there are plenty of things you do not know. There are myriad useful information that I am not aware of or do not have access to as well. However, there is also an abundance of valuable knowledge we both have that we simply do not employ and leverage to improve our lives. It is easy to blame ignorance. “I just did not know any better,” we explain to others when things go wrong. We also try to sell ourselves that little line. And sometimes it is true. And maybe even most of the time it is narrowly correct. But it misses the bigger issue: How much of the knowledge that we do have do we reliably act on? No, you may not understand how to compare mutual funds or real estate investments, but you do know you need to save for the future. Are you consistently paying your future self? No, you may not know whether kale or broccoli is better for your health and longevity, but either is a much better choice than the McDonald’s breakfast

  Inside each of us, a battle rages between thankfulness and entitlement. Unfortunately, our default setting as human beings is ingratitude. We do not need to work at it or nurture that state of mind. Ingratitude is like a weed; it just springs up naturally when nothing else is planted. We need not nurture it or care for it. Ingratitude does quite well on its own. In fact, all ingratitude needs to flourish is to be ignored. If you do not believe me that ingratitude is our default state, just observe any baby who has kept his mother up all night, yet in the morning looks at her like “What have you done for me lately?” and still demands immediate attention. There are no feelings of appreciation for the sacrifices his mom made over the preceding several hours. He is hungry NOW and that is all that matters. Gratitude, on the other hand, must be intentionally planted and carefully cultivated. Unlike the weeds of ungratefulness, gratitude is like a delicate flower that must be patiently

  Every morning for the past two years I have woken up to breathtaking view of the city of Anchorage, the inlet and many, many gorgeous mountains – including even Mt. McKinley on some days. The first time my wife and I walked the lot, many years before we even considered buying it as a realistic possibility, the panoramic views were awe-inspiring. Now that we enjoy that scenery every day, there is a risk that what was once breathtaking becomes commonplace. We could take that spectacle for granted, and instead of waking up with gratitude, we begin worrying about some story on the news feed, all the things we must get done today, the difficult conversation we need to have and the usual worries of the day. Pretty quickly, what could have been a glorious morning rapidly fades into the background as the stress or monotony of everyday life takes over. It is all about what we chose to pay attention to. If I let my mind focus on all the emails I must reply to, all the meetings scheduled,

  Proof is a funny thing. In a world full of ambiguity and uncertainty, we are constantly in search of proof. Proof that a vaccine works or that a mask protects us from infection. Proof that a product does what it promises. Proof that one car is more dependable than another. Proof that a politician is trustworthy and dependable. Proof that a decision will benefit us or that a certain lifepath will work out. Proof that our spouse or significant other will love us no matter what. But real, undeniable proof is quite difficult to attain. In many instances, it is nothing short of impossible. And while we hold out for it, life can pass us by. While it may seem like requiring proof from life is a conservative decision, the risk is substantial. We jeopardize our future by requiring something from life that it cannot possibly deliver. We risk a life unlived by demanding that life provide us proof. If we hesitate to move forward until our next step is fully validated and our path is paved wi

  Logic does not have much of a voice when it comes to our emotions and behavior. Logic can reinforce an emotion or a behavior already in place, but it rarely changes their direction. Think about smoking. We’ve known for quite some time it is really bad for us and causes numerous lung maladies over time. But it is often the now-taboo social stigma, the embarrassment of stained teeth and nasty breath and the discomfort of standing outside in the freezing cold to enjoy a few puffs from a cancer stick that get people to quit. Or it is the increasingly painful monetary cost that triggers someone to give up the habit. The emotions attached to all those experiences are often far stronger than the logic of long-term health problems. You can give someone all the reasons, stats, charts, and graphs for eating a better diet, being on a budget, waking up earlier, spending less time on social media, going to the gym, finishing college, reading more, shaking babies less, etc. But without compelling

  There is much attention these days devoted to health and safety. Specifically physical health and safety. This focus – so intense and specific – that the discussion on such a very narrow scope of health and safety is at the exclusion of all other forms and applications. Can we be so caught up in protecting our physical bodies that we have neglected our souls? While we build defenses around the health of our body, are our souls being ravished by fear and isolation? Have we traded one risk for a far greater and more insidious danger? Right now, our entire world is engulfed by the fears and uncertainties caused by a virus. This will eventually pass (maybe) and there will be a new fear on the horizon. Maybe it will be another virus. Maybe the potential for an economic Armageddon. Maybe it will be wars and rumors of wars or some natural disaster. Maybe it will be something specific to you and your own life, something inside your little bubble. My point is, there will always be an ex

  Most people try to change others or passively wait for those around them to change. A few people try to change themselves. But what we often miss is changing our environment. An optimal life is rarely created in a poor environment. Think of our environment like soil. Do we expect excellent fruit to be produced in our lives while we are planted in mediocre soil? In farming, the quality of the soil often determines the quality of the crop. I do not believe our lives are much different. Any soil can and will grow weeds. If we ignore our environment and are not intentional about creating our surroundings, we should not be surprised when weeds spring up. Yes, we all experience limitations in shaping our environments, but we must not ignore the agency we do have in making changes to whom and to what we allow ourselves to be exposed. Negative and bitter friends, toxic family members, mindless entertainment, doom and gloom news feeds, unhealthy food – these are elements of your soil yo

  Baby giraffes do not have the easiest transition to life outside the womb. For starters, the giraffe gives birth standing up, so the baby pretty much just falls out of the sky at birth. How is that for a rude awakening?!? But it does not get any easier after that. As the calf struggles to his feet, the mother will nudge the calf with her nose, knocking him back to the ground. Again, the calf will fight to get his gangly legs underneath him, only to be pushed over again by mom. If the calf does manage to stand up, the mother may even kick his feet out from under him, sending him back to the hard African soil. Are giraffe moms gunning for the prestigious, “Worst Mothers of the African Savannah” trophy? Why would they exhibit such cruel behavior? What appears to be harsh treatment may actually be the key to survival for the young calf. Growing up on the African continent not only exposes the young calf to harsh environmental pressures, but there is a constant threat from predators

When it comes to blessings, opportunities and even our own inherent abilities and potential, we are faced with two choices: either take advantage or take for granted. It is impossible to do both, so we must make a choice between the two. When we choose to take advantage, we acknowledge the gift that has been offered to us. We make a decision to live in gratitude. We agree to be stewards of that gift and accept the responsibility of that stewardship. If we choose to take it for granted, we ignore the gift, and it is never fully utilized. Like a tool left out in the elements, it begins to rust and degrade. We shirk the responsibility of wielding its power. We miss out on the opportunity to be a faithful steward. Either way, a choice is made. If we do not make a decision to take advantage of the opportunities presented to us, we default to taking them for granted. So take advantage!

  In an unstable and volatile world, certainty comes at a premium. We buy warranties and insurance, pay extra for guarantees and avoid the unknown, all in seeking to reduce uncertainty. Certainty is expensive for sure. But is it valuable? Investors often give up necessary long-term growth and sustainable retirement income for the temporary “certainty" of fixed income. They fail to consider that bringing fixed income into a rising cost retirement jeopardizes their future even though it feels comfortable in the moment. People stay in dead-end jobs they hate because they have a “guaranteed” paycheck. They don’t pursue their true calling or at least more fulfilling work. They die a little more every day, all for the sake of certainty. And then a recession hits, layoffs begin and they lose that job anyway. People remain in abusive relationships for many reasons, but for some, the uncertainty of being alone is more daunting than the misery of the current abuse. They could leave an

  It has been said that the first step in finding the right answer is asking the right question. I think I am sometimes guilty of seeking answers to the wrong questions. And maybe it is not a “wrong” question, but there is a better question out there to ask. I am a pretty goal-oriented person. I have many aspirations in several different areas of my life, personal, professional, and even spiritual objectives. I often find myself asking “How can I accomplish such and such?” or “What do I need to do to get to X.” But I wonder, rather than asking “what” and “how” I should instead be asking “who.” I wonder if “Who do I need to become?” is a more important question to answer than “What must I do?” Yes, the steps and the pathway to my goals are both important. But the traveler along that journey – me – I can not afford to overlook. I must change. I must grow. Perhaps I must focus first on who I need to become before I worry about what I need to do. 

  Do you suffer from an imbalance in expectations? Allow me to explain. It is really easy for us to get frustrated when others do not meet our expectations. This is especially true of explicit expectations we place on others and clearly communicate to them. But we also get bent out of shape when people do not meet the implicit expectations, the assumptions we have that others will do something a certain way or perform a certain task. Either way, implicit or explicit, we seem to place a lot of emphasis on the expectations we set on others. But how about the expectations we set on ourselves? Do we have the same grace and patience for others when they do not measure up that we do for ourselves when we do not live up to our own self-imposed expectations? We can easily get upset and frustrated when others let us down, but when we fail ourselves, what happens? Do you give yourself a free pass or at least extra leniency when you do not measure up to expectations? I believe that is the i

  A couple of weeks ago I was settling into our pew at church, trying to make sure all – or at least most – of our six kids were accounted for. I noticed my sister sitting in the pew just ahead of ours and there was a man next to her, sitting too close to be a stranger. The world stopped for just a moment as the reality sank in: the man was my father. A flood of emotions began welling up inside me as I contemplated that being the first time in over five years my dad had been with us in church. As I have been thinking back on that moment over the last few days, I have realized the feelings I had on that morning were similar to the emotions I experienced many years before in my little league days. I remember being a young boy and nervously stepping up to bat and looking into the stands to see if my dad was watching. Seeing him did not change the pitches that would come or the uncertainty I faced, but somehow knowing he was “with” me in the moment gave me calm. I was ready to face whateve

  You know what the problem is with a lot of goals and grand plans? They are mostly fueled by emotion rather than commitment. It is why most New Year’s Resolutions are long forgotten by now and many aspirations quietly fizzle out over time. True commitment is sticking with the effort even – if and especially when – the emotion has diminished or disappeared. Emotion can be a great initiator of action, like kindling on a fire, but it lacks staying power. Commitment is the logs that keep the fire burning long after the kindling is consumed. The butterflies after falling in love, the best intentions of waking up at 4:30am every day to work out after you join a new gym, the excitement of your first day on campus, even the sleep-deprivation induced euphoria of a new baby: all kindling. But it is commitment that keeps you working hard on the marriage twenty-three years after “I do.” It is what causes you to keep going when you do not want to make one more sales call, do one more presentat

  I believe fear is often one of the biggest obstacles to living an abundant life. While the most significant forms of fear vary from person to person, we all have our own keystone fears that trigger anxiety and paralysis. It may be fear of the opinions of others, fear of abandonment, fear of being a fraud, fear of failure, fear of loss … the list goes on and on. And we each have a demon of fear we must fight. While there are many resources available on overcoming one’s fear, I think we can confuse overcoming fear with the elimination of it. I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I do not believe fear ever disappears completely. Maybe it does not cry out as loud as it once did, but fear’s whisper still remains. It might be more subtle, but the call of fear will never completely go away. We cannot completely shut it up or shut it out. If we wait for fear to be eliminated, we will always be its slave. Overcoming fear is not exterminating it, it is moving forward despite fea