It’s like having a guy working the door at a nightclub, deciding who or what gets in.
We assume we already know everything, so we stop listening. We nod politely. But inwardly we’ve already dismissed the person speaking. Or the article. Or the correction.
There’s often good reason for our defensiveness. Being wrong about something important can have real consequences. Our ego is trying to protect us from the genuine discomfort and potential costs of being mistaken.
The paradox is that the very thing protecting us from being wrong in the moment often prevents us from being more right in the future.
What if instead of having a bouncer who turns everyone away, we hired a smarter gatekeeper? One who doesn’t just protect us from being wrong, but actually helps us get better at being right?
What if we treat new information, even the stuff that contradicts what we think we know, as an invitation?
An opportunity to level up. To upgrade our understanding. To sharpen our thinking.
What happens when we level up? Our predictions start getting more accurate. Our explanations become clearer and more useful to others. We catch our own mistakes faster…sometimes before they even leave our mouth. We become more curious about the very areas we feel most certain.
The next time someone disagrees with you or presents information that challenges what you believe, pause before your ego’s bouncer slams the door.
Ask yourself, “What if they’re right? Can I learn something new?”
This doesn’t mean accepting everything that comes your way. But you can listen. Examine the ideas. Question them. Test them against what you know.
That’s true intellectual courage.
And it’s the only way to keep growing in a world that never stops changing.
“It is impossible for a man to learn what he thinks he already knows.” – Epictetus
I sat down recently to write a letter to my cousin (technically my first cousin once removed), who just started basic training in the Air Force.
What began as a quick note turned into something more. A personal reflection, a bit of a manifesto, and a stack of lessons I wish someone had handed to me when I was just setting out.
By the time I hit “save,” I realized this may be worth sharing with any young person taking their first real steps into the adult world.
The letter was full of life updates, jokes, birthday party planning, movie recommendations, and the occasional 10-year-old version of myself asking random questions. But the main message was you can do hard things, and you’re not alone.
What follows are some ideas that come from years of learning, leading, failing, and reflecting. These are lessons for anyone who finds themselves on the edge of something new.
Leadership begins and ends in your head. Most of your real battles are internal. That voice in your head? It can lift you up or hold you back. Especially in an environment full of rules and pressure, how you think will define who you become. Supportive self-talk, resilient thinking, steady choices. These are the foundational traits for leadership.
Start before you’re ready. Showing up takes more courage than people realize. You will rarely have everything figured out before you begin. Your best opportunities for growth will come from figuring things out while under pressure. That discomfort you feel is a sign that you’re on the edge of growth.
Do the next right thing. When life gets overwhelming (and it will), it helps to stop trying to solve everything all at once. Pause. Breathe. Do the next right thing. That’s enough. The bigger picture tends to take care of itself when we’re faithful and focus on the next indicated step.
You belong here. The feeling that maybe you’re not ready, or that someone else would be better suited for the challenge in front of you. That’s normal. But it doesn’t mean you don’t belong. The truth is you do belong. You’ve earned the right to be where you are. And you’re growing stronger every day, even if it doesn’t feel like it in the moment.
Respect is the foundation of everything. Not just the kind of respect that comes from rank or titles, but the kind you live out through humility, consistency, and quiet honor. When you offer that kind of respect, you build trust. And trust is what makes people want to follow your lead.
When the going gets tough, remember why you started. Every hard day will test your resolve. Every early morning, every setback, every lonely hour…these are the places where you’ll either lose sight of your purpose or anchor more deeply into it. Purpose doesn’t remove difficulty, but it gives meaning to the difficulty. And that’s enough to carry you through.
Discipline equals freedom. I shared this piece of advice that comes from Jocko Willink, former Navy SEAL, war veteran, and a powerful voice on discipline and leadership. He says, “Discipline equals freedom.” The more discipline you have, the more freedom you gain.
Discipline gives you control. Over your body, your mind, and your choices. Freedom to choose your future. Freedom to trust yourself. Freedom to follow through, especially when motivation fades.
You won’t always feel motivated. That’s okay. Stay disciplined. Show up. Do the work. That’s how you earn freedom. One decision at a time.
“Don’t wish it were easier. Wish you were better.” A classic quote from Jim Rohn. There’s no shortage of obstacles. The goal isn’t to escape them. It’s to grow strong enough to rise above them. The learning curve is real. Learn, adapt, overcome…become better and things will become much easier.
About those movie recommendations I mentioned earlier. It’s probably more accurate to call them story recommendations. Stories about honor, resilience, human ingenuity, and the willingness to keep going when things are difficult.
We Were Soldiers, an amazingly good movie about strategic servant leadership (which is my preferred style of management), bravery, and the love that comrades in arms have for one another. It’s a great tribute to the men who fought (many who gave their lives for the guy next to them) and their brave families back home. I think I’ve seen it at least 25 times and I’m happy to watch it anytime. Each time I watch it, I tear up in at least 2 or 3 places in the movie.
Ocean’s 11 and The Sting, two films that focus on creative problem solving and teamwork…though our “heroes” in these movies are con men and thieves.
The Princess Bride made the list. The value of honor (even among combatants), mixed with the comedic and spoofy scenes make it a classic. Even in a world of duels and danger, kindness, respect and loyalty still matter.
I suggested Seveneves by Neal Stephenson. A science fiction novel (my favorite genre for at least the past 10 years) about human survival, adaptation, and rebuilding civilization after catastrophe. The premise is that an asteroid causes the moon to shatter. What starts out as an oddity in the sky becomes a calamity as the moon breaks up into a ring and then begins to rain down to Earth (something they call the Hard Rain). Great sci-fi, lots of human ingenuity and adaptability, and a story that covers about 5,000 years. It’ll take some time to read, but it’s worth it.
Two books by Andy Weir. The first is The Martian (which became a movie starring Matt Damon), and the second is Project Hail Mary. Andy wrote The Martian in 2011 and self-published it on Amazon. It picked up fans and became a bestseller without an “official” publisher. His second book was called Artemis (takes place on the Moon). It was good, but not quite as good as The Martian (which is a high standard, so I’m probably being unfair).
His third book was Project Hail Mary. This one is also being made into a movie, starring Ryan Gosling. It is excellent.
The big thing about Andy’s books is that they are scientifically accurate. His characters deal with extremely complex challenges that require thinking and ingenuity to overcome. He writes in a way that entertains and teaches things you never knew.
I love that Andy wrote his first book from beginning to end without any publisher involved. Nobody was there to tell him what he was doing was the right thing. He believed in himself, believed in the story he was telling, focused on the work, delivered a high-quality product, and proceeded to find his audience one reader at a time.
All these stories reflect truths about the path ahead. Your journey will be hard. You’ll need grit, creativity, and perseverance. You’ll need others (family, friends, mentors, even strangers). More often than not, the tools to overcome life’s challenges will come from within yourself, quietly shaped by the stories you carry and the habits you form.
Whatever new thing you’re stepping into, whether it’s basic training, a new job, a cross-country move, or a new phase in your life, know that it’s okay to be unsure. It’s okay to feel stretched. Just remember your “why,” do the next right thing, and keep showing up with courage.
And who knows? Maybe decades from now you’ll be the one writing a letter like this, passing along what you’ve learned…
Somewhere along the way, I’ve noticed a quiet truth.
The thing I was working toward (the goal, the vision, the project, the finish line) always required other steps. Preparation. Research. Practice. Training. A foundation. A warm-up.
While I tried to focus on the thing I wanted to do, most of my time was spent doing all the other things that needed to happen first.
Building a deck means hauling lumber, squaring the posts, digging holes…and at least three trips to Home Depot. Writing a book means staring at blank pages, deleting paragraphs (and chapters), and researching obscure details that may never make it to print. Staying in shape means lacing up your shoes at dawn when no one else is watching. Starting a business means filling out countless forms, talking to lots of people who say no, and revisiting your reasons why, countless times.
These tasks are not detours or distractions. They are merely steps on the journeys we’ve chosen.
If we can learn to love these quiet and often unnoticed tasks that prepare the way, we may find the joy we’re seeking was there all along.
We might discover that the thing we’re chasing isn’t the prize. It only led us to the road we were meant to walk. To meet the people we were meant to meet.
So go ahead. Lace up your shoes at dawn. Cut that first board. Tape off all the areas you don’t want to paint. Make that first sales pitch. Get to know people you never expected to meet.
Embrace all the steps that come before the thing.
It turns out, they are the thing.
“Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.” — Abraham Lincoln
Sometimes the hardest limits aren’t what we believe we are…but what we’ve decided we’re not.
Leader: I’m hitting a wall. No matter how hard I try, something’s stuck. Coach: Where? Leader: Connecting with my direct reports. The one-on-one meetings. All the details. I’m just not wired for any of it. Coach: You sure? Leader: I’ve never been good at connection. I’m not super technical. I’m not touchy-feely. I’m not a detail person. Coach: Sounds like you’ve got your “not” list down cold. Leader: Isn’t that just self-awareness? Coach: Could be. Or maybe you’re protecting yourself with that list. Leader: I’m not trying to be someone I’m not. Coach: Are you avoiding someone you could become? What if the growth you’ve been chasing is on the other side of “I’m not”? Leader: What if I do all that work and don’t like what I find? Coach: Then you’ll learn something real. But what if you find a strength you didn’t know you had? Leader: That feels like a stretch. Coach: Growth usually does.
“Ego is as much what you don’t think you are as what you think you are.” – Joe Hudson
We usually spot ego in people who overestimate themselves. Their arrogance and swagger enter the room before they do.
But ego has a quieter side. It hides in the limits we quietly accept. Not in who we think we are, but in who we’ve decided we’re not.
“I’m not technical.” “I’m not good at details.” “I hate public speaking.”
These negations, the things we distance ourselves from, might feel like declarations of strength and clarity.
But often they are boundaries we’ve unconsciously placed around our identity. Once we’ve drawn these lines, we stop growing beyond them. They protect us from challenges, discomfort, and the hard work we know will be required.
Leaders who define themselves by what they aren’t often:
-Avoid feedback that challenges their identity.
-Miss chances to adapt or grow.
-Choose the path of least resistance.
-Struggle to connect with different types of people.
-Dismiss skills they haven’t developed (yet).
If you’re feeling stuck, ask yourself:
-What am I avoiding by saying, “I’m not that”?
-What am I protecting by holding on to that story?
-What might open up if I let it go?
Sometimes the next chapter of growth begins not with a new strength, but with a willingness to loosen our grip on the stories we tell ourselves.
If you want to grow as a leader—or help others grow—it’s not enough to ask, “Who am I?”
You also have to ask, “What am I willing to become?”
When you watch a five-year-old, a ten-year-old, even a twelve-year-old create, you see what unfettered creative freedom really looks like. Whether it’s a drawing, a Lego tower, or a clay sculpture, they throw themselves into the process with joyous abandon. In their mind, they can see clearly what they’re making. They know why they’re making it. And there’s almost always a story behind it.
They aren’t self-conscious. They aren’t trying to impress anyone. Sure, they like to show their creations to parents, grandparents, and teachers. But their motivation isn’t just about approval. It’s about expression.
Most children are free from the baggage of expectation. They don’t wonder if what they’re making is good enough. And when they finish, they move right on to the next thing. Their self-worth isn’t tied to the outcome. The value of the work comes from their own perspective, not from what others think.
But around age thirteen (sometimes earlier) things change.
After years of chasing approval, learning the “right” way to do things, being graded and corrected by well-meaning adults, something fundamental happens. Their freedom to create without judgment slowly gets buried. Doubt takes root. Worry about what others might think starts to shape their process. Fear of looking foolish holds them back.
And as the years pass, it only gets worse.
Tell someone you’re going to take up oil painting, stained glass, sculpture, or any new creative pursuit as an adult, and they’ll likely have two reactions: a polite smile of encouragement, and quiet skepticism that anything worthwhile will ever come of it.
Starting something creative as an adult feels strange. It’s outside the bounds of what “normal” people do. It’s far easier to stay in line, avoid looking foolish, and sidestep the discomfort of being a beginner again.
But we are all beginners at birth. Even the rare prodigies had to take their first step (the one that happens long before we see the gifted 5-year-old who can play a piano concerto). For the rest of us, every new skill—whether it’s creative, practical, or professional—requires courage, repetition, failure, and patience.
I’ve learned that when I let go of expectations (not easy) and stop worrying about looking foolish (also not easy), the magic happens. With this new frame of reference, trying something new, something creative, or something unfamiliar, brings a new energy having nothing to do with the outcomes.
It doesn’t seek approval or chase productivity. It simply opens the door to wonder—something we often unlearn as we grow older.
I’m lucky. I get to spend time with my grandchildren, who remind me what fearless creativity looks like. They show me that learning and creating, and the fun we have along the way, are all that matters.
I heard this a while back and it resonated with me. That it’s a privilege to be under pressure.
At first, this may seem counterintuitive. Pressure can feel heavy. It weighs on us, steals our sleep, tightens our chest.
The pressure to perform. Pressure to deliver results. Pressure to be the best spouse, parent, grandparent, or friend we can be.
Pressure to grow. Improve. Rise to the moment.
We feel pressure because someone is counting on us. Our family. Our coworkers. Our teams. Our communities.
That pressure? It only exists where there’s a purpose. It’s a signal that we matter to someone. That our role isn’t meaningless. That someone out there is relying on us to show up, do our best, and help them move forward.
The alternative?
No responsibilities. No pressure at all. No one looking our way. No one expecting anything from us. No one counting on us.
No promises, no demands (we don’t get enough Love is a Battlefield references in life).
Maybe, no purpose.
The next time you feel the world pressing in, take a deep breath and reframe the situation.
That weight on your shoulders? It’s a sign of trust. A signal of opportunity. A reminder that you have a place in someone else’s story.
In the end, pressure is a byproduct of the privilege to lead, to love, and to serve.
It’s such a quiet phrase. Almost a shrug. A way of saying, yes, that’s true…but that’s not the whole story.
Life is full of maybe so…
This challenge I’m facing is hard. Maybe so. Someone else got the credit I worked for. Maybe so. The odds are stacked against me. Maybe so. The situation is messy, complicated, unfair. Maybe so.
Maybe so…but I’m not letting that be the final word.
Truth and hope aren’t always in competition. You can fully acknowledge the reality of something and still choose where to focus.
Perspective is a choice.
I’m tired, maybe so. I’ve failed, maybe so. This isn’t how I pictured it, maybe so.
But I’m also thankful. I’m still showing up. This might be exactly what I need, even though I may never admit it.
I’m learning to live in the tension between what is and what matters more.
We all get to decide where to place our attention. Some people zero in on the obstacle. Others fix their eyes on the opportunity.
One sees the storm. The other watches for the rainbow.
Both are real. But only one will move you forward.
“Attitude is the difference between an ordeal and an adventure.” — Bob Bitchin (he’s a real guy with an amazing story…stories)
Life hands us situations we don’t choose. Detours, delays, disappointments. But attitude? That’s something we bring to the table.
Sometimes the smallest shift in mindset is what turns a setback into a story worth telling. What once felt like a burden becomes the beginning of a bold new chapter.
So yes…your facts may be true. The obstacles might be real. The weariness might be justified.
Maybe so…but this is where we’re meant to be. Besides, this story isn’t finished.
The best parts of life come after we stop fighting the facts and start choosing the lens we use to see them.
h/t –“Yeah, I know what they say, money can’t buy everything. Well, maybe so, but it could buy me a boat.” — Chris Janson
I smile every time I hear this song. Sometimes a little humor, a little honesty, and a down-to-earth dream are exactly what we need to reset our thinking. It’s not about the boat. It’s about the choice to believe that something good still waits ahead…if we choose to see it.
There was a time I made a big leap “out the window.” I walked away from something I thought I had to escape. I didn’t have a detailed plan, just a deep sense that staying where I was would burn me out.
What I should have realized at the time was that while I was escaping one fire, I was just trading for another.
That’s the thing about decisions. They rarely come with clarity. They come wrapped in burdens and hope and urgency, all dressed up to look like certainty. But certainty is often just a story we tell ourselves to keep moving.
I’ve gone back and questioned plenty of decisions. I’ve hit pause, looked around, and asked, “Was that the right thing to do?”
Sometimes the answer is no. And that’s okay.
I’ve made wrong turns. I’ve said yes when I shouldn’t have. I’ve said no when I was afraid. But here’s something I’ve learned the hard way: wrong turns can still move us forward. Even the “mistakes” taught me something. Sometimes they were the only way I could learn the lessons I needed to learn.
Side note: If you can learn from watching someone else’s journey, that’s often preferable to taking the hard knocks that accompany most of the big lessons in life.
The truth is, not every decision will hold up to hindsight. And not every success will look like success right away. Some answers show themselves slowly. They show up only after struggle, reflection, and time. They need hardship to help them mature. Sometimes they even need failure.
I’m lucky. Along the way, there were people who didn’t try to fix me. They just stood with me while I figured it out. They gave me space to question, to re-route, to second guess. That kind of support is rare. And I’m grateful.
To those people: thank you. You helped me see what I wasn’t ready to see. You let me grow into the answers I didn’t even know I was seeking.
These days, I’ve learned to forgive myself for the detours. For the second thoughts. For the “what ifs” I’ll probably carry forever. I’ve changed my mind, more than once. With every shift, I’ve learned to find moments of peace.
Here’s the point: Maybe wandering is the way.
Wisdom doesn’t show up all at once. It grows, shifts, even contradicts itself. Sometimes it stumbles. Sometimes it starts over.
One thing I know for sure: What I thought I knew was only the beginning.
The blinking cursor on a blank document. The empty stretch of land where you’ll soon be building a shop. The new web application your company wants to develop that will revolutionize your industry. These are just a few examples of standing on the edge of something new, something important, yet feeling completely unsure of where to begin.
You might have a vision of the final result—the finished document, the completed shop, the fully functioning app. But that doesn’t mean you know how to get there.
It’s easy to get lost in the variables and the endless possibilities. What if I make the wrong decision? Are there more resources out there? What do other people think? Should I read more articles? Watch more videos? Seek more advice? What if I mess it all up?
In every case, the hardest part is starting.
It’s taking that first step. Writing the first sentence. Sketching out the first screen of an app. Nailing the first stakes into the ground—the ones you’ll attach a string to, so you can visualize where your new shop will go.
It’s a commitment to action over hesitation. A moment of bravery that marks the beginning of making something real.
An amazing thing happens when you start. Your mind shifts from a place of endless “what-ifs” to a place of positive motion. You begin to focus on the next steps and real solutions. All the challenges you imagined before starting—that, in many cases, won’t even come to pass—are forgotten. The path ahead becomes clearer, and each small step forward makes your next decision easier.
Does this mean everything goes perfectly after you start? Of course not. You’ll make mistakes, adjust, learn, and pivot along the way.
But here’s where starting becomes crucial: it provides a tangible foundation. It gives you something to measure against, something to refine, something to edit. You might completely change your initial idea, but you wouldn’t have discovered the need to change if you hadn’t started.
Starting is hard, but it’s also the most important part.
Take the first step, even if it feels uncomfortable. You’ll learn more from those first few steps than you will from standing still…wondering what might happen.
Once you start, momentum kicks in. And from there, the possibilities are endless.
“Garbage In, Garbage Out” doesn’t just apply to computers—it applies to your life. The people you spend time with, the content you consume, and the habits you build shape your future. Want better results? Choose better inputs.
“You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” – Jim Rohn
“You are what you repeatedly do.” – Aristotle
“Show me your friends, and I’ll show you your future.” – John Kuebler
“Your life is controlled by what you focus on.” – Tony Robbins
The old phrase, “garbage in, garbage out” doesn’t only apply to computers and databases. It applies to how we live our lives.
Our inputs—the people we surround ourselves with, the information we consume, and the habits we cultivate—shape our outcomes.
If you spend time with amazing, imaginative, productive, and adventurous people, chances are you’ll start adopting some of those same qualities. At a minimum, you’ll develop personal goals that push you to emulate those qualities in your own way.
On the other hand, if you surround yourself with negative, self-destructive, bitter, or complacent people, their mindset and behaviors will slowly seep into your own life. Even if you think you’re immune, habits and attitudes are contagious.
Small Choices Compound Over Time
Consider this simple example.
If you exercise at least three days per week, you’ll see progress. Do it five days per week, and your results will be even better.
But if you instead have the habit of drinking a large chocolate shake for lunch every day, the impact won’t be immediate, but with time you’ll notice a negative shift in your health and energy levels.
Neither of these changes happen overnight. But over months and years, they define who you become.
Our small choices create big results.
The Status Quo Trap—It’s Hard to Change
It’s obvious that if you run toward a cliff, ignoring all the warning signs, you’re in for a big fall. But in real life, it’s rarely that clear.
Like the boiling frog who doesn’t realize the water is heating up until it’s too late, many people stay in toxic environments, bad habits, or unproductive routines because the declining results are slow and gradual. It doesn’t feel urgent—until suddenly, it is.
Our Inputs Dictate Our Outputs—So Choose Wisely
Our mind works like an algorithm. What we feed it shapes what it returns to us.
If we constantly consume negative news, gossip, or toxic social media, our mindset will reflect it.
If we surround ourselves with people who challenge us to grow, read books that inspire us, and engage in meaningful conversations, our perspective will shift toward productivity and fulfillment.
The good news? We choose. And by making intentional choices, we set the trajectory for our future.
Challenge: Take an Inventory of Your Inputs
For the next week, pay attention to what’s influencing you. Your environment, the content you consume, and the habits you engage in.
Who are the five people you spend the most time with? Are they making you better?
What are you reading, watching, and listening to? Is it fueling growth or draining your potential?
What small habit could you start today that would improve your future?
The inputs you choose today will shape who you become tomorrow, next year, and a decade from now.
Grandpa Bob Encouraging Leadership 
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