“There is no Frigate like a Book / To take us Lands away.”
Emily Dickinson wrote these words in her quiet room, understanding something I didn’t grasp for decades. The greatest journeys begin within.
I know her poem only because of my 11th grade AP English teacher, Mr. Cox. As a rambunctious and cocky 11th grader, would I have taken any of my “super valuable” time to read poems, sonnets, short stories, even books? No way.
But because of his work (and the work of countless other teachers along the way), I did read. A lot. I learned tons of material and information that didn’t matter to me at the time…but matter a lot today.
My focus back then was simple. Be the best student, get the highest test scores, pass as many AP tests as possible, and earn varsity letters in multiple sports. Mostly, I wanted to beat everyone else, pure and simple. It helped that I was blessed with an almost photographic memory and could recall facts and formulas with ease (sadly, not so much nowadays).
I carried that mindset into college. I loved being the student who defined the grading curve for the class. I was annoyed if I didn’t get every single point on an assignment, midterm, or final. I had an almost uncontrollable drive to outshine everyone…as if that was all that mattered.
I was completely wrong.
On the bright side, that drive and motivation made me a successful student and propelled me into my early career.
On the other hand, seeing everyone as my competition, and less as people, meant I probably missed out on a lot of fun. And lots of friendships that never happened. I was so focused on the destination that I forgot to notice who was traveling with me.
That realization connects me back to Dickinson’s frigate in ways I never expected. She saw the book as a vessel capable of carrying anyone, anywhere, without cost or permission. But what I’ve learned over nearly fifty years since high school is that I was asking the wrong question. It was never “How far can I go?” It was “Who am I becoming, and who’s helping me understand?”
My journey from that hyper-competitive teenager to what I hope is a much more caring, thoughtful, empathetic, nuanced, and life-giving person has been propelled by those same teachers I mentioned earlier, and a longer line of guides who keep showing up at the right time in my life.
I didn’t realize it then, but those books, poems, and teachers were all part of my fleet of frigates. Each one quietly helped me close the distance between knowledge and understanding, between my ambition and wisdom.
My mentors, family, and friends have all been vessels that carried me through changing seas. Some taught me to sail straight into the wind. Others reminded me that drifting for a while can be part of my journey as well. Each lesson mattered, even the ones that didn’t make sense at the time…especially those.
Over time, life has a way of sanding down our sharper edges, revealing something deeper underneath. My focus slowly shifted from being the best at something to becoming the best version of myself.
Now, when I think about Emily Dickinson’s frigate, I picture something far greater than a book. I picture a lifetime of learning, carried by the people who invested their time, wisdom, and patience in me. Mr. Cox, and others who gave freely of their time and wisdom, helped me see that the destination isn’t solely becoming the top of the class. It’s finding a profound depth of understanding, the expansion of empathy, and the ability to see beauty and meaning in small, unexpected places.
If I could go back and talk to that 16-year-old version of myself, I’d tell him the real tests aren’t scored on paper. They’re graded every day in how we treat people, how we listen, and how we show grace.
I’d tell him that the frigate he thinks he’s steering alone has always been guided by grace. The true measure of his voyage will be how much space he makes for others to come aboard.
We’re all learning to sail, carried by the steady hand of God.
There’s a quiet moment in meaningful work when your idea begins to live in someone else. You see it in the way they talk about it. You hear it in their enthusiasm. You notice how they add their experience and their language to it until the idea carries their imprint as much as yours.
It can feel strange the first time it happens. You know the origin, but they suddenly feel the spark of the idea for themselves. That’s the moment you know your idea has begun to grow.
Real success often arrives like this, but we don’t always notice it. People begin to adopt your idea, reshape it, and eventually believe in it with a conviction that can be surprising. They explain it to others in their own voice. They defend it. They improve it. If the idea spreads far enough, some will forget where it began. Your name may fade from the origin story. That loss of attribution can sting if you hold the idea too tightly. It should feel like success instead.
Leaders have a responsibility here. Ideas rarely spread through logic alone. They spread through emotional ownership that grows when people discover a piece of themselves in the idea. When that happens, they carry the idea farther than you ever could by insisting on authorship.
A leader’s task is to create the conditions for this transfer. You offer the early shape of the idea, then invite others to step inside and help build the next version. You ask for their insight, their experience, and their concerns. You let their fingerprints gather on the surface until the idea becomes a shared creation. People support what they help to shape.
As others begin to adopt your idea, they’ll need to feel safety in their new enthusiasm. They need to know they’re not the only ones who believe in this direction. A wise leader pays attention to this. They take the people who have embraced their idea and introduce them to others who have done the same. They form new connections, helping to create a small community where confidence strengthens and courage grows. When people see others adopting the same idea, they feel validated, understood, and ready to act.
This is how ideas gain momentum inside organizations. One person sees the promise. Another begins to shape it. A third begins to feel inspired. Before long, it becomes a shared narrative. It starts with your imagination, but it continues through their belief and conviction.
Once people begin to adopt your idea, you must release it. You may or may not receive credit for it. Either outcome is acceptable.
The goal was never to build a monument to your creativity. The goal was to move the organization forward. When others bring your idea into new conversations without you, your contribution has done its job.
Your attention can return to the horizon. There’s always another idea waiting for you, another possibility that needs your curiosity, another problem that needs new framing.
Good leaders plant seeds. Great leaders celebrate when those seeds take root across the organization.
Inspired by Dr. Michael Levin’s post, h/t – Tim Ferriss
Photo by Alex Beauchamp on Unsplash – a new idea taking root and growing beyond its beginning.
Imagine two managers sitting at their desks, both using the same AI tool.
The first asks it to write the same weekly report, just faster. Three hours saved. Nothing new learned. Box checked.
The second uses the AI differently. She asks it to analyze six months of data and search for hidden patterns. It reveals that half the metrics everyone tracks have no real connection to success. Two new questions emerge. She rebuilds the entire process from scratch.
Same tool. Different questions. One finds speed. The other finds wisdom.
This is the divide that will define the next decade of work.
For a long time, leadership revolved around structure and repetition. The best organizations built systems that ran like clockwork. Discipline became an art. Efficiency became a mantra.
Books like Good to Great showed how rigorous process could transform good companies into great ones through consistent execution. When competitive advantage came from doing the same thing better and faster than everyone else, process was power.
AI changes this equation entirely. It makes these processes faster, yes, but it also asks a more unsettling question. Why are you doing this at all?
Speed alone means little when the racetrack itself is disappearing.
Curiosity in the age of AI means something specific. It asks “why” when everyone else asks “how.” It uses AI to question assumptions rather than simply execute them. It treats every automated task as an opportunity to rethink the underlying goal. And it accepts the possibility that your job, as you currently do it, might need to change entirely.
That last part is uncomfortable. Many people fear AI will replace them. Paradoxically, the people most at risk are those who refuse to use AI to reimagine their own work. The curious ones are already replacing themselves with something better.
Many organizations speak of innovation, but their true values show in what they celebrate. Do they promote the person who completes fifty tasks efficiently, or the one who eliminates thirty through reinvention? Most choose the first. They reward throughput. They measure activity. They praise the person who worked late rather than the one who made late nights unnecessary.
This worked when efficiency was scarce. Now efficiency can be abundant. AI will handle efficiency. What remains scarce is the imagination to ask what we should be doing instead. Organizations that thrive will use AI to do entirely different things. Things that were impossible or invisible before.
Working with AI requires more than technical skills. The syntax is easy. The prompts are learnable. Connecting AI to our applications isn’t the challenge. The difficulty is our mindset. Having the patience to experiment when you could just execute. The humility to see that the way you’ve always done things may no longer be the best way. The courage to ask “what if” when your entire career has been built on knowing “how to.”
This is why curiosity has become a competitive advantage. The willingness to probe, to question, to let AI reveal what you’ve been missing. Because AI is a mirror. It reflects whatever you bring to it, amplified. Bring efficiency-seeking and get marginal gains. Bring genuine curiosity and discover new possibilities.
Here’s something to try this week. Take your most routine task. The report, the analysis, the update you’ve done a hundred times. Before asking AI to replicate it, ask a different question. What would make this unnecessary? What question should we be asking instead?
You might discover the task still matters. Or you might realize you’ve been generating reports nobody reads, tracking metrics nobody uses, or solving problems that stopped being relevant two years ago.
Efficiency fades. What feels efficient today becomes everyone’s baseline tomorrow. But invention endures. The capacity to see what others miss, to ask what others skip, to build what nobody else imagines yet.
The curious will see opportunity. The creative will see possibility. The courageous will see permission. Together they will build what comes next.
The tools are here. The door is open. Work we haven’t imagined yet waits on the other side. Solving problems not yet seen, creating value in ways that don’t exist today.
Writing a song is like fishing, Kenny Chesney once said. Some days you catch something beautiful. The melody, the moment, the truth. Other days, you sit there all day with nothing but frustration and a stubborn belief that it’s still worth being out there.
That kind of wisdom transcends genres. Ernest Hemingway spent his life circling the same idea. That real art happens when we show up. Whether facing a blank page, a marlin that wouldn’t bite, or a battle that couldn’t be won, he believed the only way to live fully was to move, to act, to engage.
His work embodied a simple truth. The shortest answer is doing the thing. For him, wisdom wasn’t found in thinking about life, but in living it. No clever phrasing. No shortcuts. Just the act itself. Simple, honest, alive.
We spend so much of life thinking about what we might do, planning what we should do, waiting until we feel ready to begin. But readiness rarely arrives on its own. The line stays slack until you cast it. The song stays silent until you play it. The story remains untold until you write it.
Sometimes we catch something incredible. Other times, nothing.
Either way, we were there. Present. Awake. Participating in the work and wonder of life.
Maybe that’s the whole point.
A life well-lived must first be lived.
Photo by Shojol Islam on Unsplash – I wonder if he’ll catch something on this cast. Maybe. Maybe not. But, he’s in the game, giving it his best shot and that’s what matters.
The difference between reacting to the moment and preparing for it.
Most leaders spend their days responding. A problem surfaces. They fix it. A crisis hits. They mobilize.
Urgency crowds out importance. By Friday they’re exhausted from fighting fires they never saw coming.
This is leadership without anticipation.
Every action sets something in motion.
-Launch a product without considering support capacity, and you’ll be drowning in angry customers in three months.
-Promote someone before they’re ready, and you’ll spend the next year managing the fallout.
-Ignore the quiet signals in your market, and you’ll wake up one day wondering how you got disrupted.
Some outcomes can be seen in advance. Leadership is the discipline of noticing what’s coming and readying your team to meet it.
Wayne Gretzky once said, “I skate to where the puck is going to be, not where it has been.”Most leaders skate to where the puck was. They optimize for yesterday’s problem. They staff for last quarter’s workload. They strategize for a market that no longer exists.
Leaders who matter skate differently. They think past the first step and see how decisions unfold across time. When they make a choice today, they’re already anticipating the second and third-order effects.
They connect short-term actions to long-term outcomes, asking not just “Will this work?” but “What happens after it works?”
When you cultivate this habit of anticipation, something shifts. You stop being surprised by the predictable. You create space before you need it. You move with a quiet confidence that comes from seeing the terrain before you cross it.
Your team feels it too. It’s the difference between reactive and ready, between scrambling and intentional.
We can’t eliminate uncertainty. The future will always bring surprises. But we can change how we manage it. We can choose to be the leader who sees what’s coming rather than the one who’s perpetually caught off guard.
Dwight Eisenhower said, “In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.” Plans will change. They always do. But the act of planning, of thinking through trajectories, testing assumptions, and imagining scenarios, prepares you to lead when the moment arrives.
The leader who anticipates doesn’t wait for clarity. They sense it forming and courageously move toward it. They shape the path while others are still reacting to it.
When we look toward the future, two voices compete for our attention. Fear tells us to run away. Curiosity invites us to step forward.
Fear whispers, “It’s too much. I can’t keep up. Better to stop trying.” Curiosity responds, “I don’t understand…yet. Let’s see what happens.”
Fear closes.
Curiosity opens.
Fear imagines disaster.
Curiosity imagines possibilities.
Fear isolates.
Curiosity connects.
The world is changing quickly. The pace can feel overwhelming. Many will react with fear. A curious spirit asks questions. It wonders what could be.
Curiosity doesn’t remove uncertainty but transforms how we deal with it. When we lead with curiosity, we move from paralysis to participation. We see the unknown as a chance to grow.
“Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.” – Marcus Aurelius
We already have the tools we need. Curiosity and our ability to learn. What we need is the courage to use them.
Ideas and wisdom often arrive with familiar roots.
My views on leadership come from my lived experiences and lessons I’ve learned from great builders and thinkers like Andrew Carnegie, Peter Drucker, Tom Peters, Ken Blanchard, Marshall Goldsmith, Zig Ziglar, Stephen Covey, Jack Welch, Seth Godin, Jeff Bezos, Gary Vaynerchuk, Tim Ferriss, Jocko Willink, James Clear, and countless others.
I’ve also worked with amazing managers and mentors over many decades, including a few who taught me what not to do.
Since I find myself often returning to these lessons, I thought it would be useful to write them down in a list for easier reference.
Leadership Foundations
1. Leadership begins in your mind long before it shows up in your actions.
2. Self-awareness is a leader’s first and most enduring responsibility. Know how your actions land, then lead on purpose.
3. Character outweighs credentials over the long haul.
4. Integrity compounds like interest. The longer you hold on to it, the more it grows.
5. Values are the compass that keep you on course when circumstances shift.
6. Humility is the strength to put others first.
7. Influence comes from trust, not job descriptions.
Vision and Direction
8. A leader’s vision must be big enough to inspire, but clear enough to act on today.
9. Clarity reduces fear. Ambiguity fuels it.
10. Momentum builds when people see the destination and believe they can reach it.
11. Vision is not just what you see. It’s what you help others see.
12. The clearer you are about the goal, the less room there is for fear to grow.
13. Purpose is the map. Storms are just temporary detours.
14. Belief in the destination turns small steps into powerful strides.
15. Every action should feel like part of the same bigger story.
16. Sometimes waiting is the boldest move you can make. Strategic patience is powerful (and extremely difficult).
People and Relationships
17. The right people in the right roles multiply results beyond what you can imagine.
18. A culture of respect will outlast a culture of urgency.
19. Listen like the person speaking might hand you the missing puzzle piece.
20. Pass the applause to others but keep the accountability close to your chest.
21. Trust is invisible, but when it’s gone, everything feels heavier.
22. Relationships need regular deposits of attention, not just withdrawals of effort.
23. Helping someone else win creates a tailwind for your own success.
Decision-Making
24. Good decisions blend facts, values, and the courage to act.
25. The first idea is often just the trailhead. Walk farther.
26. Energy without wisdom burns out. Wisdom without energy gathers dust.
27. Choose the option you can defend in the daylight and live with in the dark.
28. A quick, small decision can open doors a perfect plan never reaches.
29. It’s easier to fix a wrong turn early than to build a new road later.
30. Never cash in tomorrow’s credibility for today’s convenience.
Resilience and Adaptability
31. A setback is a classroom, not a graveyard.
32. Flexibility is a skill, not a personality trait. Practice it.
33. Change is the proving ground where talk becomes action. Priorities sharpen, assumptions get tested, and leadership shows up in decisions, owners, and dates. If nothing changes (no decision, no owner, no date) it was only talk.
34. Adapt your tactics, but never your core.
35. The best views are earned with effort you once thought impossible.
36. Challenges test your limits so you can discover you’re stronger than you ever imagined.
37. Sticking with it usually turns “almost” into “done.”
Growth and Learning
38. The best questions are the ones you don’t yet know how to answer.
39. The moment you stop learning, you stop leading. Sometimes before you notice.
40. Pride blocks the front door to growth. Curiosity leaves it wide open.
41. Ask for feedback before circumstances force it on you.
42. Teach your knowledge, always remembering that your actions teach your values.
43. Every conversation nudges someone closer to, or further from, their best self.
44. Failure carries lessons that success hides. Corollary: High water covers a lot of stumps.
Impact and Legacy
45. Success without significance is empty.
46. The influence you have on people’s lives will outlast your achievements.
47. Your legacy is written in the lives you touch, not in the titles you hold.
48. Leadership is something you borrow from the future. It must be returned in good condition.
49. The most meaningful titles are the ones people give you, not the ones on your nameplate.
50. Think in decades when deciding what to plant today.
51. Your success is multiplied when others stand taller because of you.
52. The best proof of leadership is when growth continues without your hand on the wheel.
53. Leave every place and every person better than they were when you arrived.
Communication & Culture
54. Say the quiet part kindly and clearly. Clarity without kindness bruises. Kindness without clarity confuses.
55. Stories travel farther (and faster) than memos. Stories move people. Memos inform them. Stories turn intention into action.
56. Consistency in small signals (tone, timing, follow-through) builds culture faster than slogans.
57. Meetings should create movement. Reserve live time for decisions and collaboration. End with owners and dates. If it’s just a podcast, send an email. If only two people need to talk, make it a call and give everyone else their time back.
58. Celebrate progress out loud so people know what “right” looks like.
59. Honesty scales when leaders go first. Name the hard thing and show how to address it.
60. Culture forms around what you tolerate as much as what you teach.
Execution & Accountability
61. Strategy stalls without a calendar. Put names and dates on intentions.
62. Start now. Ship one useful thing today. Ride the wave of momentum that follows.
63. Priorities aren’t what you say first. They’re what you do first.
64. When everything is urgent, nothing is important. Choose the one thing that unlocks the next three.
65. Inspect what you expect. Review, refine, and recommit in frequent loops.
66. Own the miss publicly and fix it quickly. Speed heals trust.
67. Scoreboards matter. People work smarter when progress (or lack thereof) is visible.
Faith, Purpose & Centering
68. Quiet time isn’t empty time. It’s where courage and wisdom refuel.
69. Purpose steadies the hands when the work gets heavy.
70. Gratitude turns pressure into perspective.
71. Servant leadership begins by asking, “Who needs strength from me today?”
72. Hope is a discipline. Practice it especially when results lag.
Leading Through Change & Uncertainty
73. Name the uncertainty. People handle the unknown better when it has boundaries.
74. Trade predictions for scenarios. Prepare for several futures, not just your favorite one.
75. Replan without blame. The map changes when the terrain does.
76. Communicate more than feels necessary. The vacuum of silence fills quickly with speculation.
77. Keep experiments small and reversible, so learning is fast and affordable.
78. Endurance is contagious. Your calm can be the team’s shelter in a hard storm.
Coaching & Talent Development
79. Grow people on purpose. Make development a standing agenda item.
80. Coach with questions that build judgment and ownership.
81. When you delegate the result, delegate the authority to achieve it. Authority and responsibility should be in balance.
82. Set intent and boundaries. Agree on check-ins. Then step back so the team can step up.
83. Size stretch work to the person’s readiness. Provide the right challenge, real help, and visible sponsorship. It’s okay if they reach the result by a different route than yours.
84. Build a bench before you need one. Succession begins on day one.
Supportive Organizational Behavior
85. Make it safe to disagree. Invite the view that challenges yours.
86. Credit ideas to their source. Recognition fuels contribution.
87. Write agendas as outcomes, not topics.
Systems Thinking & Process
88. Correct the mistake and improve the system that allowed it.
89. Turn recurring work into checklists and rhythms so excellence is repeatable. Then automate it.
90. Map the flow of work end to end. Prune any step that adds no value. Unblock the rest.
91. Measure what matters. Review it at a pace that improves the work.
Stakeholders & Customer Focus
92. Start with the customer and work back to today’s priorities.
93. Define success in customer outcomes, then align processes, metrics, and rewards.
94. Close the loop by telling people what changed and why.
Conflict & Courageous Conversations
95. Address tension early while the knot is small.
96. Separate the person from the problem. Aim at the issue, not the identity.
97. Put the real issue (the skunk) on the table. Agree on facts before you debate fixes.
Energy & Well-Being
98. Protect time for deep work and recovery so decisions are sharp.
99. Model healthy boundaries. Your example sets the team’s norms.
100. Choose a sustainable pace over heroic sprints. Consistency wins the long game.
Leadership is a skill to be learned and practiced over a lifetime. It grows through steady reflection, small improvements, course corrections, and new discoveries. These reminders pull us back to what matters when life and work get noisy.
Whether you lead a company, a classroom, a project, or a family, your influence reaches far beyond the moment.
The truest measure of leadership is the people we serve and the leaders they become.
Photo by Marcus Woodbridge on Unsplash – I love the idea of a lighthouse showing the way, standing firm and steady especially when the waves are their scariest.
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…
I received an email from Noah Kagan this week. Not because we’re personal friends, but because I subscribe to his newsletter. Noah, the CEO of AppSumo, often shares practical insights and thought-provoking questions from his journey in the tech world.
This particular message stood out. He talked about being fearful for his 10-month-old daughter’s future. With all the chaos in the world, the deepening divides, the rise of AI and robotics, the general noise of modern life, he wonders what kind of world she’ll inherit.
But instead of spiraling into worry, Noah laid out how he’s choosing to respond: by creating clarity, limiting distractions, and doubling down on the things that matter most. He’s building a foundation, not just for his own peace of mind, but for his daughter to inherit.
His email reminded me of a quote often attributed to Mark Twain: “The future is in the hands of a generation that isn’t ready for it.”
We didn’t have AI, social media, or the internet back in Mr. Twain’s day. But even then, concerns about “the next generation” were nothing new. Parents, teachers, and elders across every era in history have wondered if the next generation is truly ready.
Noah’s concern isn’t just that the next generation might be unprepared. It’s that the world itself might be too broken to navigate well. But history offers some perspective.
Every generation has faced challenges. Wars, famines, political collapse, pandemics, technological upheaval, moral drift. And yet, the world moves forward. Somehow, each generation rises to meet its moment…even if their preparation feels lacking.
We don’t get to control the future, but we do influence it by how we live, what we model, and what we choose to pass on. We can’t predict what our children and grandchildren will face, or how they’ll respond. But we can teach them how to think, how to hold on to timeless values, and how to walk through hardship with strength and grace.
It’s natural to worry.
Let’s not forget that hardship doesn’t cancel out beauty.
Struggles don’t erase joy.
There will be triumphs ahead, too. If we’ve taught them well, they’ll learn to spot their small victories, celebrate them, and then pass along what matters to those who come after.
The future always arrives in the hands of the young—and the young are never quite ready. But then again, neither were we.
We know about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and how our wants and desires are like a pyramid that goes from our basic needs up to our desire for self-actualization. The Pareto Principle reminds us that 80% of our results come from 20% of our efforts, helping us focus on what truly moves the needle. Saint Ignatius’s Spiritual Exercises guide us through discernment, teaching us to distinguish between what brings life and what drains it.
But there’s another framework worth considering: the evolution of what we consider important throughout our lives.
As kids, we know what’s most important. It usually revolves around attention, followed by winning at whatever we are doing, which we think will get us more of that attention we crave. Everything feels urgent. Every disappointment feels permanent. The world revolves around us, and that’s exactly as it should be for a child learning to navigate life.
Teenagers start to focus on freedom, independence, and figuring out what they’re going to do when they grow up (whatever that means). They often reject what their parents value. Sometimes for good reasons, sometimes solely because rebellion feels necessary for finding their own path. What matters most is breaking free from the constraints that feel suffocating, even when those constraints were designed to protect them.
As young adults, we’re getting started, establishing our independent life, our financial foundations, our career foundations…at least we’re trying to get these things established. We’re in acquisition mode: getting the job, the apartment (maybe a house), the relationship, the respect (something we crave more than attention at this stage). We often dismiss advice from older generations, convinced they don’t understand how different the world is now.
Then something interesting happens.
As the decades flow by, what was important a few years ago, isn’t. We start to think about how to serve others, help our kids flourish, help their kids flourish. The shift is gradual but profound. From getting to giving, from proving ourselves to improving the lives of others.
Major life events accelerate this evolution. A health scare makes us realize that all the success in the world doesn’t matter if we’re not here to enjoy the fruits of our labor. The birth of a child or grandchild suddenly makes legacy more important than achievement. The loss of a parent reminds us that time is finite, and relationships are irreplaceable.
Sometimes the shift happens more quietly. Earlier this week, two co-workers were discussing the NBA finals and asked me what I thought of Game 2. I had to admit that I haven’t followed basketball since the Magic Johnson era of the Lakers. As we talked, it became clear to me that I haven’t followed any sports—except for the Savannah Bananas baseball team’s shenanigans—in many years.
What captures my attention now? I’m drawn to watching people live their best lives in rural settings, building homesteads for themselves and their families. I find myself rooting for others to succeed in their chosen vocations, nothing more, nothing less. It’s not that sports became unimportant because they were bad. They just became less important than something else that feeds my soul more deeply.
As we get older, preserving our health, and the freedom that comes with it, moves toward the top of our priority list. Interesting how the freedom we sought as teenagers is still important to us in our senior years, but for different reasons. Then, we wanted freedom and thought we were ready for responsibility.
Now, we want freedom to focus on what truly matters. Freedom to be present for the people we love, freedom to contribute in meaningful ways, freedom from the noise that once seemed so important.
There’s a beautiful irony in how we often spend the first half of our lives accumulating things, achievements, and accolades, only to spend the second half learning to let go of what doesn’t serve us. We chase complexity when we’re young and value simplicity as we mature.
Questions worth considering:
– What would happen if we could skip ahead and see what our 70-year-old self considers important? What about our 80-year-old self? Would we make different choices today knowing what they know?
– Why do we have to learn the hard way that some of the things we chase don’t matter? Is there wisdom in the struggle, or are we just stubborn?
– How can we be more intentional about evolving our priorities on our terms instead of waiting for time to do it?
– What if we could honor the lessons each life stage provides without completely losing face and dismissing what came before?
The evolution of importance isn’t about getting it right or wrong at any particular stage. It’s recognizing that growth means what we value will shift.
That’s not a bug in the system. It’s a feature. The teenager’s desire for freedom isn’t foolish. It’s necessary for their development. The young adult’s focus on building a foundation isn’t shallow. It’s essential for future stability.
Perhaps the real wisdom comes in staying curious about what matters most. Knowing that the answer will keep evolving. And maybe, just maybe, we can learn to trust that each stage of life has something valuable to teach us about what’s truly important.
The key is staying awake to the lessons, even when they challenge what we thought we knew for certain.
Grandpa Bob Encouraging Leadership 
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