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...

  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 p...

  “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 d...

  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. T...

  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 li...

  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 mar...

  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. H...

  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 ...

  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 nee...

  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 leve...

  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, co...

  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. O...

  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 wate...

  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 momen...

  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 Spi...

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 s...