Leadership That Lasts Beyond the Finish Line

In high school, I had the good fortune of running cross country under a man named Mr. Smuts. Our coach and my 11th grade AP U.S. History teacher. He was the kind of leader who quietly influenced growth in those around him. 

He didn’t bark commands or demand the spotlight. On race day, while other coaches were shouting themselves hoarse, Mr. Smuts would position himself at the mile markers. Calm, steady, present. As we passed, he’d simply call out our split times. No cheering. No panic. Just numbers.

We didn’t need anything else.

He had trained us so well that those times were all the feedback we needed. We knew what they meant. We knew what he expected. And we knew he believed in each of us (even the slow guys, like me).

When we crossed the finish line, sometimes ahead of the competition, sometimes not, he’d quietly remind us that the real opponent wasn’t the other team. It was the clock. It was ourselves.

That quiet challenge made us better. Not just as runners, but as young men.

Mr. Smuts embodied a rare approach to leadership. Seeing others more than being seen. His confidence in us was contagious. His calm became our calm. His consistency helped us believe that showing up and giving our best effort, day after day, was enough to grow into something exceptional.

For a bunch of teenagers full of energy and bravado, his presence could have been drowned out by flash and high school nonsense. But instead, we listened closely. We trusted deeply. And we ran harder.

His leadership style reminds me of a line from the Tao Te Ching:

“When the best leader’s work is done, the people say, ‘We did it ourselves.’”

That’s exactly how it felt. We crossed those finish lines thinking we had pulled it off on our own. Only because he had quietly laid the foundation beneath our feet.

True leaders create space for others to rise.

The Tao Te Ching calls it wu wei, effortless action. Like a river flowing around rocks instead of smashing into them. Doing the right thing at the right time and then stepping back to let the results take root.

Ronald Reagan once said, “There is no limit to what a man can do or where he can go if he doesn’t mind who gets the credit.”

This could have been written about Mr. Smuts.

He led in a way that called attention to others rather than himself. His approach shaped how we performed, how we grew, and how we learned to lead ourselves. His impact showed itself in the confidence he helped us build and the standard of excellence we still carry with us today.

The next time you find yourself in a leadership role at work, in your family, or on any team, ask yourself:

-Am I trying to be the hero, or trying to build others up?

-How can I lead with quiet influence?

-Can I let go of credit and trust the process I’ve helped shape?

The best leaders don’t stand in front of their people. They stand with them, sometimes just off to the side, calmly calling out split times as the race unfolds.

And when it’s over, they nod to themselves, knowing they’ve done their job.

The rest of the story: Mr. Smuts earned his doctorate in Leadership and became Dr. Smuts not long after my time at Cerritos High School (Class of 1984).  He went on to become the school’s principal and ultimately the school district’s Superintendent of Schools for many years, before retiring in 2012. He continues to enjoy his retirement years.

Dr. Smuts is a leader who inspired (literally) thousands of kids (and adults). 

This video provides a brief glimpse of this truly inspiring and gentle man in 2012 as he prepared to retire. It also highlights my high school campus that looks very much like it did four decades ago.  

Let the Ponies Run

Imagine owning a well-trained thoroughbred racehorse. Born and bred for speed, this horse thrives on competition and lives to run fast.

Every day, six days a week, this horse trains relentlessly. It has one purpose and one passion: running and winning races. Nothing else matters.

But on race day, you grow cautious. You worry, despite all the training, despite the horse’s proven skill, that it might not pace itself properly. So, you ask the jockey to override its instinct to run fast. You instruct the jockey to hold back the reins from the start.

As the race unfolds, your horse struggles against this restraint. Instead of feeling exhilarated, it grows frustrated. Its natural drive diminishes with each stride as the jockey pulls back, second-guessing the horse’s desire to run.

Finally, as the last turn approaches, the jockey releases the reins and shouts encouragement. It’s time to unleash all that pent-up speed.

But the horse no longer cares. He’s not even paying attention. He lost his competitive edge about a half mile ago as the jockey kept holding him back. Sure, the horse goes through the motions, picking up just enough speed to appear engaged, to show respect for the jockey’s urging. But the spark is gone.

This is a very fast horse, so even his partial effort makes for a close finish. But unfortunately, the horse doesn’t win the race. One he could have easily won if he hadn’t been held back from the start.

If you’re a manager, how often do you treat your employees like this horse? How often do you hold them back from doing the very thing you hired them to do? Do you second-guess their instincts, micromanage their decisions, and restrain their natural abilities out of fear, caution, or to protect your ego?

Consider how demoralizing it is for your team when you take away their autonomy. The freedom to run their own race. When employees lose the ability to make meaningful decisions, their enthusiasm, creativity, and ownership suffer. These are the very qualities that fuel success, and when suppressed, diminish the team’s potential and their performance.

Take a look around your organization. Are your people fully engaged, and running with purpose? Or have you inadvertently drained their passion and energy by holding them back?

There’s something else that’s easy to overlook. When you don’t allow your people to take on challenges, make decisions, and occasionally stumble, you’re not just holding them back today. You’re limiting who they can become tomorrow. Without the opportunity to stretch, fail, and grow, your employees can’t develop the judgment and endurance that leadership demands.

Playing it safe and keeping them on a tight rein risks weakening your bench strength and jeopardizing your organization’s ability to thrive in the future. We’re not just running one race; we’re running a never-ending series of tough races that stretch out long into the future.

Imagine how powerful your organization could be if you simply let your thoroughbreds—all the talent and skills you’ve carefully assembled—run their races the way they know best. Imagine letting them succeed and fail with your support, as part of your team, and not just your assistant waiting for you to make all the decisions.

It’s time to loosen the reins and let the ponies run. Because if you don’t, they might find somewhere else where they can.

Photo by Jeff Griffith on Unsplash

Bringing Home the Moonbeams

There’s a line in a Frank Sinatra song that asks if we’d like to, “…carry moonbeams home in a jar.” A crazy idea. Moonbeams can’t be contained or put in a jar, but their magic can be carried home just the same. What if we could carry home the kind of wonder and light that moonbeams represent?

Life throws challenges at us every day. Deadlines. Difficult conversations. The relentless tug-of-war between expectations and reality. Yet, amid the noise, we often stumble upon moments of beauty.  Unexpected acts of kindness, moments of connection with strangers, or simply a sunrise or sunset that stops us in our tracks. These are moonbeams.

Have you ever met someone for the first time and felt their kindness so deeply that it stayed with you? Maybe it was a stranger who gave you directions with a smile, a colleague who truly listened, or someone who saw you struggling and extended their hand. These are glimpses of humanity’s greatness.  Magic moments where we see the best of who we are reflected in someone else.

What if we made it our mission to carry that magic home with us?

It’s easy to bring home the worries of the day.  Our frustrations, our stresses, our nagging self-doubt. But alongside these, we can also bring moonbeams: the small, bright moments of beauty, hope, and love that we encounter every day. We can share the wonder of a chance conversation, the joy of something new we learned, or the inspiration we felt when we saw someone overcoming adversity.

Carrying moonbeams is about being conscious of what we pass on to those we love. It’s about choosing to share curiosity instead of cynicism, gratitude instead of grumbling. It’s about being the explorer who brings back stories of the world’s beauty to share with those at home, inspiring them to see the magic in their own lives, too.

Imagine if we all carried moonbeams in our metaphorical jars. How much brighter would our homes, our communities, and our world become?

What if we could embrace the day with the motivated curiosity of an explorer. Purposely looking for the moonbeams—the fleeting magic of kindness, beauty, and connection.

Imagine carrying them home to share, not in jars, but in our words, our actions, and our presence.

Because moonbeams, once shared, have a way of multiplying.

Photo by me, capturing a “moonbeam” of a sunrise view outside my kitchen window the other day

Lessons in Failure – the Mark of a True Leader

There’s a saying that often floats around in entrepreneurial circles: “Fail fast, fail often.” While the origins of this phrase are up for debate, its lesson is clear. Failure isn’t just an inevitable part of leadership.  It’s one of the most defining. How a leader reacts to failure (their own or their team’s) can reveal their true character and shape the trajectory of their future success.

But here’s the thing: writing about failure and leadership can quickly sound like a series of cliches. We’ve all heard the platitudes about “learning from mistakes” and “rising stronger.” But there’s a deeper message about what truly separates those who lead with integrity and vision from those who crumble when things go wrong.

When failure strikes, leaders face a choice. They can own it, adapt, and come back stronger. Or they can point fingers, wallow in resentment, and stall out. The decision often happens in an instant, but its impact can last a lifetime.

Great leaders take ownership of failure, even when it’s not entirely their fault. Why? Because owning failure builds trust. When a leader says, “This didn’t go as planned, let’s discuss what we’ll do to fix it,” they inspire confidence. They create a culture where the team feels safe to take risks, knowing that mistakes are part of growth, not reasons for punishment.

When leaders blame others, they erode trust. Pointing fingers, whether at the team, external circumstances, or bad luck, signals an unwillingness to reflect and adapt. Over time, this creates a toxic environment where innovation dies and progress stalls.

“Fail fast, fail often” isn’t about being reckless.  It’s about embracing experimentation and accepting that not every idea will succeed. Failing quickly means you can pivot sooner, learn faster, and ultimately get to a better solution.

This idea requires two things:

Humility: The willingness to admit when something isn’t working.

Agility: The ability to adapt and try again without becoming paralyzed by setbacks.

Elon Musk is a great example. From continual iterations of experimentation and failure at SpaceX—including multiple RUDs (rapid unscheduled disassembly in rocket speak)—to the challenges Tesla faced in scaling production and support, he’s built companies on the idea of learning through failure. Musk doesn’t see failure as an end point.  He sees it as feedback.  A necessary step on the path to success.

To handle failure effectively, leaders need more than optimism.  They need a process. Here’s a simple approach that works (notice I didn’t say it’s an easy approach):

-Recognize the failure and what it means. Be transparent with your team.

-Reflect on what went wrong without assigning blame. Focus on systems and strategies, not personal shortcomings.

-Identify key takeaways. What worked? What didn’t? What’s worth trying again?

-Adjust your approach based on lessons learned.

-Recommit to the goal with a renewed focus and determination.

Failure doesn’t only teach leaders how to solve problems.  It shapes their emotional intelligence (if they allow it). Leaders who’ve faced setbacks tend to have more empathy and patience. They’ve had to overcome multiple failures themselves, so they know how challenging failures can be for their teams.

When leaders normalize failure, they create cultures where people aren’t afraid to take risks or push boundaries. That’s where breakthroughs happen.

The mark of a true leader isn’t perfection. It’s how they handle failure.  Whether they embrace it as a teacher or fear it as an enemy. The choice of owning mistakes, adapting, and persevering defines not just their success, but the success of everyone they lead.

The next time failure arises, ask yourself: Will I let this moment shape me for the better? Will I lead my team through it with grace and determination? Will we learn from this failure? 

The answers will set the course for everything that follows.

Photo by David Trinks on Unsplash

Leadership Pitfalls: Don’t Be a Don Henry

Early in my career, during my time as an internal auditor, I learned a lot about people. I spent countless hours observing and interacting with individuals at all levels of organizations, from front-line employees to CEOs. This unique vantage point taught me a foundational lesson: the success of any organization usually hinges on the character and behavior of its leaders.

In our small audit teams, we developed a shorthand to quickly convey our impressions of the people we interviewed. We’d use these labels —like Adam Henry and Don Henry— to help summarize complex personalities in a few words. After interview meetings, we might describe our interviewee as a good guy, a solid operator, an Adam Henry, a Don Henry, or perhaps someone who was DUP, or DUC.

Let me translate those last four:

  • Adam Henry – Asshole
  • Don Henry – Dickhead
  • DUP – Definitely Unpleasant (not quite an Adam Henry)
  • DUC – Definitely Unclear (meaning they seemed like an idiot)

What’s the difference between an Adam Henry and a Don Henry? While both are problematic, the distinction lies in their approach and the impact on those around them. Adam might be uncooperative and arrogant, but Don takes it a step further—using their position to intimidate others and make them feel as dumb as possible.  Don loves to belittle people and fosters a toxic environment that stifles collaboration and creativity.

Were our shorthand judgments fair? They may not have been, but they were usually quite accurate based on our interactions. Remember, most people are on their “best” behavior when talking to an auditor (even though most of us would rather not talk to auditors). Imagine if they weren’t on their best behavior.

These judgments, though informal, often reflected deeper truths about the individuals we encountered. A company with too many Don Henrys, for instance, might struggle with low morale, high turnover, and a lack of innovation—challenges that will cripple long-term success.

There was nothing special about us, as auditors, making these assessments of the people we were interviewing. All of us make these assessments as we work with other people. These same assessments are being made about us by other people all the time.

Is this person a good guy, a strong operator, a pleasant person, a team player? Or are they on the opposite end of the spectrum? Should I trust this person to have my best interests at heart, or are they solely in this for their own gain at all costs?

Companies of all sizes, no matter the industry, are made up of human beings, working as a group (hopefully as a team, but not always) to achieve key goals (hopefully the organization’s goals).

If the people who manage a company are Adam Henrys, or worse—Don Henrys, that organization will have difficulty succeeding. They might succeed in the short term, but over a multi-year time horizon, these negative traits in the people managing the business will lead to poor morale, declining creativity, declining teamwork, and declining execution.

Recognizing and addressing “Don Henry” behaviors is crucial for any organization aiming for sustained success. Leaders who prioritize their team’s well-being, encourage collaboration, and foster a positive work environment are far more likely to achieve lasting results.

The next time you’re interacting with colleagues, ask yourself: Am I being an Adam Henry, a Don Henry, or something better?

p/c – Ben White, Unsplash.com

Taking Your Team on a Vision Quest

In the early 2000s, I attended one of our company’s national meetings. Our new CEO opened the meeting with a keynote address.

After thanking everyone for attending, he discussed the company’s three key strategic initiatives. He tied each of them back to the overall goals and mission of the company, underscoring how critical each manager attending the meeting (and our teams) would be to making these initiatives come to fruition.

His address lasted about fifteen minutes. He had a few slides to accompany his talk, but nothing flashy. In those fifteen minutes, we understood his vision, what we were supposed to do, and how we were empowered to make it happen. We were unified and energized.

Later that day, I thanked him for his talk. I mentioned how concise it was and appreciated that he didn’t spend an hour on CEO-speak and rah-rah platitudes. He smiled and explained that he was concise because he articulates versions of that talk multiple times each day.

He shared that wherever he traveled, whenever he visited one of our company’s offices or met with employees or customers, he made sure they understood what we were doing and how important each of them was to the company’s success. He knew that in a company with over 15,000 employees, it was impossible to speak to or know every one of them. But, whenever he encountered employees, he knew they’d remember what he said and appreciate knowing how they are connected to the company’s success.

He was so concise and effective because he lived and breathed the vision and its importance every day and shared it freely with everyone.

Applying This in Your Leadership

You don’t have to be a Fortune 100 CEO to communicate like this. As a servant leader, commit to using your finite time and energy to communicate openly and freely with your team members. Make sure they understand the plan and their part in it. Take time to understand the challenges they face, listen to their ideas, ask probing questions, and let them know how important they are to the success of the department, division, or company.

Your team can’t wait to accompany you on a vision quest. They just need to know what they’re doing, where they’re going, and that you value their contribution to the quest.

Effective communication from leadership is not about the quantity of words but the quality of the message. By being concise, clear, and consistent, you can inspire and motivate your team to achieve great things.

Start today by articulating your vision and showing your team how much you value their contributions.

Photo by jesse orrico on Unsplash

Exiting the Tomb of Pessimism

“We must strive to exit our tomb of pessimism.”  I heard this phrase echo through the Cathedral during the Easter Vigil homily, a little over a week ago. 

As Catholics, we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ every Easter…His triumphant exit from the tomb, three days after his crucifixion.

In a much smaller way, we have a daily invitation to cast off our heavy shroud of negativity.  To exit our tomb of pessimism. 

To break the shackles of hopelessness and redirect our thoughts toward a brighter horizon.    

If everything great begins with a thought or an idea, imagine channeling this power toward an optimistic future, filled with amazing possibilities. 

It’s easy to stay in this tomb of our own making, looking through the bars at all the people out there who are clearly happier, more successful, and have all the things we yearn for.    

The truth is none of them matter.  They have no impact on us…except to show us some possibilities, some ideas, and some pathways that worked for them.    

We have the power to rewrite our own narrative, to pivot our lives toward a more hopeful outlook.  The choice is ours alone. 

Escaping the tomb of pessimism demands courage and resolve. It requires us to confront our deepest fears and insecurities, to challenge the status quo of negativity that has held us captive and kept us comforted for so long.

Yet, it is only by confronting these challenges that we can find the promise of transformation.  Only through the struggle that we can discover a new sense of purpose.

Will you remain ensnared in the confines of pessimism, or will you seize the opportunity to step into the light, and walk away from your tomb of pessimism?    

The choice is yours.

Choose wisely.

p/c – Jelle de Gier – Unsplash

DAWA, Coronavirus, and Normal

I remember thinking how simple it all sounded, and I was relieved to know I had a model to follow. What I didn’t know at the time is that this simple model is anything but simple…

 

Denial.

Anger.

Withdrawal.

Acceptance.

I first learned about these stages of grief when Grandma Anne died (over 30 years ago).  My cousin, who was a newly minted police officer at the time, described how he received training on this model in the police academy.

I remember thinking how simple it all sounded, and I was relieved to know I had a model to follow.  What I didn’t know at the time is that this simple model is anything but simple.

Models provide a basis for understanding a concept or an idea…and that’s helpful.  Models make the complex seem simple.  But models rarely capture the layers of detail or the often-gut-wrenching processes they describe.

Today, the DAWA model is a bit outdated.  Additional “stages” have been added over the years to the original model.  Stages like shock, bargaining, depression, and testing are layered into discussions of the grieving process nowadays.

How does all of this relate to the Coronavirus?

Thanks to Coronavirus, we are suddenly sharing a grief experience with every person on the planet, at the same time.  Every single one of us has lost something extremely important because of Coronavirus.

The normal that we knew, the normal that we understood, the normal that we took for granted…died over the last 30-60 days.  If you could ask all 6 billion-plus people on Earth when, exactly, normal died, their answers would vary by a few days or few weeks.  But nobody would deny that their normal is gone.

When we grieve or face a major crisis in our lives, we come together with others, we gather closer to the people we love, we comfort each other with hugs and shared laughter.  We cry together.  We cook together.  We share meals.  We share stories about what we’ve lost.  We might go to an inspirational concert and hold hands while we sway and sing along with tears streaming down our faces.

We love to be with people, even if we describe ourselves as introverts or “not a people person.”

Unfortunately, that part of normal has also died (at least for a while).

While it doesn’t look like it (because our beloved normal is gone), we are all grieving.  Every one of us.

Make no mistake about it.  Something we loved, something we treasure, and something we counted on has died.  We are grieving our loss, even as events unfold in front of us that may make things worse before they get better.

We probably don’t think we have time right now to grieve.  But, we’re each somewhere on the DAWA continuum of denial, anger, withdrawal, or acceptance.  In fact, we’re bouncing around on that continuum today.

We’ve lost our normal, and we’re being forced to live in a new normal.  This new normal will probably give way to yet another new normal a few months from now.  None of us know what any of this will look like.  That mystery is an unfortunate part of our new normal (as crazy as it may sound).

It’s normal to be in denial.  It’s normal to be angry.  It’s normal to withdraw or try to escape.  It’s also normal, and necessary, to find acceptance.

Acceptance doesn’t mean giving up.  It means that the energy we’ve been using to fight the new normal can be channeled toward making the best of what’s in front of us.

Sure, we all miss our beloved normal from the past.  We’d prefer to have our old normal back in our lives.  But we must find a way to accept, to allow ourselves to rest, and let go of our longing.

The good news is that we’ve each had normal die before.  We’ve had to adjust to new normals throughout our life and we’re generally pretty good at it:

  • Moving from one school to another and making new friends
  • Graduating high school or college
  • Starting our first “real” job
  • Leaving our first job
  • Starting our second job
  • Meeting the person of our dreams that we plan to spend the rest of our life with
  • Divorcing that person
  • Experiencing the death of a loved one
  • Becoming a parent (or a grandparent)
  • Starting your own business
  • Selling that business
  • Losing a house and everything we own in a fire
  • The knee injury that forced you to stop playing your favorite game
  • Having your house destroyed in a tornado

These are all examples of events in our lives that require us to let go of the old normal and embrace the new normal.  Sometimes the new normal is because of something amazingly good, and other times it’s caused by something amazingly bad.

I’m not sure I’ve reached the acceptance stage in my own grieving process.  I tell myself that I’m there, but I know it’s not always true.  As I work through the process and prepare myself for what lies ahead, I like to keep this list of ideas in mind:

  • Take things one day at a time
  • Prayer is your instant connection to someone who loves you completely
  • Celebrate your victories, no matter how small
  • Give yourself a break
  • Be grateful and enjoy what you have
  • Forgive yourself for not knowing exactly what to do (none of us know, which is true a lot more than we’d like to admit)
  • Only allow yourself to worry about the future for a few minutes each day and move on. I’d say to stop worrying completely since worrying is a non-productive use of energy, but I know it’s not possible to eliminate it completely.
  • Check-in once each day for the news on Coronavirus, and what the latest government directions are (social distancing, masks or no masks, etc.). By now, you know the symptoms, what you’re supposed to be doing to prevent the spread, and what you’re supposed to do if you or someone close to you become symptomatic.  The rest is probably not super useful, and you can catch-up on all of it during your once-a-day check in.
  • Be kind to others. Your kindness will go a long way and may lead to more kindness in your “downstream.”  Even a smile to a stranger letting them know we’re all in this together is helpful.  By the way, your eyes show your smile, even if your mask doesn’t.
  • Realize that you are grieving, and so is everyone else. We will each have good days and bad days in our grief journey.
  • Take time to gather with your friends and family members by phone, video conference, or even a nice email note.  These are your people.  Embrace them remotely.

We are living through future history.  The events happening around us and to us today will be discussed, debated, and written about for decades to come.  Our lives are forever changed, and the changes are continuing to unfold.

We can use our energy to reach back to the past with all that we have, searching for the normal that’s gone.

Or, we can channel our energy to reach toward the future, creating the best possible new normal for ourselves and our loved ones.

While I grieve for the past, I choose to reach for the future.

Photo by Mike Labrum on Unsplash

Serve others first…

Tim Ferriss asks a question of most of his podcast guests:

“If you had a billboard that millions of people would see every day, what would you put on that billboard?”

Tim’s guests have given answers ranging from the comedic to the serious.  Some have talked about a cause that is their passion, or an inspirational passage they’d like people to see.

Each time I hear the question, I come up with the same three words:

Serve others first.

Serving others first means:

  • taking others’ needs and desires into account before our own
  • looking out for their best interest first
  • our decisions are more thoroughly considered because we’ll be taking time to think about how our decisions impact others
  • trying to make someone else’s job easier and more rewarding
  • showing someone gratitude for the work they’re doing
  • minding our manners (as my mom used to say when I was a kid)
  • listening to, and respecting others (even if we disagree with them)
  • looking for ways to improve a situation rather than making things worse
  • being the first to forgive.

It’s easy to focus on our own interests and challenges first.  It’s easy to think everything happening in the world is directed toward us, personally.  This “me first” mindset is hard-wired into our DNA…our DNA is selfish about 99.99% of the time.

The tougher path?

It’s the one that leads to serving others first.  It goes against our wiring, which takes significant effort.

None of us will be perfect on this path.  We’ll stumble, and we may even wander a bit.  But, we can be a blessing for others along our journey, and that’s what we should be seeking.

The good news is that following this path gets easier with practice.

Photo by Adrià Crehuet Cano on Unsplash

 

What a Wonderful World

Sadness can find us with little or no effort…

Sadness can find us with little or no effort…sometimes on a daily basis.

I see trees of green,
red roses too.
I see them bloom,
for me and you.
And I think to myself,
what a wonderful world.

Sadness, defined as anything that’s the opposite of joy:

Emotional pain

Feelings of disadvantage

Loss

Despair

Grief

Anger

Helplessness

Disappointment

Sorrow

Frustration

Guilt

I see skies of blue,
And clouds of white.
The bright blessed day,
The dark sacred night.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world

Oddly, we sometimes seek out sadness for our own purposes.  Maybe we need an excuse for not being the person we know we can be.  Maybe we find comfort in burdening others with our pain.

The colors of the rainbow,
So pretty in the sky.
Are also on the faces,
Of people going by,
I see friends shaking hands.
Saying, “How do you do?”
They’re really saying,
“I love you”.

When sadness in its many forms pays a visit, we have two fundamental questions to ask ourselves:

  • What will we allow inside?
  • How long will we allow it to stay?

It’s easy to say that we get to decide.  That doesn’t mean it’s easy to kick sadness out once it arrives for a visit.

I hear babies cry,
I watch them grow,
They’ll learn much more,
Than I’ll ever know.

What to do?  Here’s a list that I have to remind myself of from time to time:

  • Tune your mind to find joy in the simple things
  • Seek out and cherish love in your life
  • Offer forgiveness to yourself and others
  • Share your time and attention with others
  • Seek opportunities to serve others first
  • Observe life with a sense of awe and gratitude.

Joy won’t find us the way sadness can.  Joy only shows itself when we take action to greet it warmly with open arms and outstretched hands.

And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

Yes, I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

Oh Yeah.

Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash