Simplifying 2026, One Decision at a Time

Every December, I return to a familiar practice. I reread a few of my older posts, looking for threads that might help clarify my thinking about the year ahead. Last year, on the final day of 2024, I wrote a short post on my goals for 2025:

-Serve the quests of others over my own
-Offer insights and advice, not direction
-Push beyond my comfort zone and inspire others to do the same
-Bring the loaves and fishes, and trust God with the rest

I see that I longed for simplicity without mentioning it directly. I wanted more presence, more clarity, more intention, and a little less noise in a world that seems to generate more every year.

This week, as I listened to Tim Ferriss speak with Derek Sivers, Seth Godin, and Martha Beck about simplifying life, I realized this desire has been with me for a long time. More than a decade ago, I wrote a short post called Becoming a Chief Simplicity Officer, describing how organizations thrive when they remove friction and create clean intuitive paths so people can focus on what truly matters. The idea was straightforward. When systems run smoothly, people flourish.

It turns out this Chief Simplicity Officer role fits in life just as well as leadership. Someone needs to step into the work of reducing complexity, eliminating friction, and clearing space for the things that deserve attention. Someone needs to guard the essentials by shedding the excess.

That someone is me, and it’s you in your life.

From Tim Ferriss’s Podcast

Derek Sivers: Simple Isn’t Easy, but It Is Freedom

Derek Sivers says simplicity requires intention. It doesn’t appear just because we cut a few tasks or say no occasionally. It takes shape when we clear away commitments that no longer belong and choose what contributes to the life we want to live. He often talks about building life from first principles instead of living on top of default settings.

Every recurring obligation fills space that could hold something meaningful. Every dependency adds weight. Every unfinished task pulls at the edges of our attention.

What possibilities would rise if complexity stopped crowding the edges of your life?

Seth Godin: Boundaries Create Clarity

Seth Godin approaches simplicity through the lens of clarity. When you know exactly who your work is for, you stop bending your days around expectations that were never meant to guide your decisions. Clear boundaries turn vague intentions into choices you can actually live out.

Simplicity often follows sharper edges. Define your edges, and the path through each day becomes easier to walk.

Martha Beck: Choose Joy, Not Habit

Martha Beck speaks of simplicity in the language of joy. She tells a story from her twenties when she made a single choice that reshaped her life. She turned toward joy and stepped away from misery, even when the joyful path cost more in the moment. Joy has a way of clearing the fog. It cuts through distraction and highlights what brings life.

Her words invite us to examine the decisions we’ve kept out of habit or comfort. Some habits strengthen our soul. Others only multiply clutter. Joy reveals the difference.

Ten Simplicity Moves for the Start of 2026

These actions are small, but each one lightens the load. They remove stones from a shoe you may have been walking with for years without realizing.

  1. Cancel one subscription that no longer serves you. Even a small change can create a surprising sense of clarity.
  2. Choose one non-negotiable time boundary and honor it. Maybe evening email and scrolling limits or a weekly focus block on your calendar. Small open spaces accumulate over time.
  3. Simplify one recurring decision. Automate it, template it, or eliminate it entirely.
  4. Pause one habit you maintain out of inertia. Give yourself a week to assess its value.
  5. Identify one activity that consistently brings joy and schedule time for it this week.
  6. Unsubscribe from three email lists that add noise instead of value.
  7. Clear one surface you see every day. A calm space refreshes the mind.
  8. Revisit your goals from last year and carry forward only what still matters. Release the rest.
  9. Decide who you are working for. Clarity about your audience sharpens the work you choose to do.
  10. Ask yourself one grounding question: What do I truly need to live the life I want? Let your answer shape what stays and what goes.

Looking Back at 2025 and Forward Into 2026

My goals for 2025 were aimed at deeper alignment with the things I care about. They served me well and opened my heart to possibilities I never would have imagined. I’ll carry these goals into 2026 (and beyond).

For 2026, I’m adding one specific goal to my list. I started working on this goal a few months ago, and it’s pushing me way outside of my comfort zone. While it’s a personal quest (and not one that serves the quests of others over my own), I believe it will serve others on their journey. I’ll be bringing the loaves and fishes and trusting God to do the rest. I’ll share more details later.

A Closing Invitation

Simplicity grows as unnecessary weight falls away and clarity rises in its place. You don’t need a title or a plan to begin.

You only need to choose.

Choose clarity.

Choose boundaries.

Choose joy.

Choose to be the Chief Simplicity Officer in your own life.

Let this be the year you simplify your days and rediscover the freedom and clarity that come from intentional living.

Photo by Paul Earle on Unsplash

Please share this post with at least one person. Thanks!

59 Lessons at 59

I recently turned 59. Not the big 60 milestone but knocking on the door. In honor of this “almost-milestone” birthday, here are 59 lessons or truths I’ve picked up along the way that may be helpful for you:

  1. Family is the greatest treasure. I’ve learned this from countless dinners, phone calls, and quiet moments of simply being together.
  2. Love grows when you give it away.
  3. Small kindnesses matter more than big speeches. Holding a door, writing a note, or showing up means more than most people will admit.
  4. A campfire has a way of pulling people closer. Some of our best conversations happened with smoke in our face and stars overhead.
  5. Walks in the woods teach patience. The trail never hurries, but it always leads you somewhere good, even if the trail leads back to where you started.
  6. Listening is often better than speaking.
  7. Start, even if you don’t know the finish line.
  8. Forgiveness frees the forgiver.
  9. Work hard, but not so hard you miss the laughter at the dinner table. That laughter is life fuel.
  10. Friendships need tending like gardens.
  11. A calm mind shapes a calm day. How you manage your thoughts sets the tone for how you live, not just how you lead.
  12. Prayer steadies shaky ground.
  13. Scars are inevitable but can become footholds.
  14. Your children and grandchildren remember the times you kept your word. Integrity is how love earns trust over a lifetime.
  15. Music can heal a weary spirit.
  16. Laughter with grandchildren is holy ground. Even the silliest joke can create amazing memories.
  17. Take pictures but also put your phone down.
  18. The best conversations happen unplanned, often on the way to somewhere else.
  19. God shows up in ordinary moments.
  20. Start with what you have, not what you lack.
  21. Be quick to encourage. A word of encouragement can feel like oxygen to someone gasping for air.
  22. Time with your spouse is the best investment you’ll ever make.
  23. A sunrise reminds us the story isn’t over.
  24. Be generous with money, with time, and with grace.
  25. Don’t underestimate a good meal shared…even a bad meal shared.
  26. Patience is a form of love.
  27. Read good books slowly. And read them aloud. I’ll never forget the nights of reading Harry Potter chapters to my kids, one voice carrying us all to another world.
  28. Children teach us as much as we teach them.
  29. A soft answer turns away wrath.
  30. Slow down for sunsets.
  31. Stay curious, even at 59.
  32. Hold babies gently, but often.
  33. Let go of what you can’t control.
  34. Keep your promises, even the small ones. If you can’t be trusted in the little things, no one will trust you with the big ones.
  35. Coffee or a meal with a friend beats any meeting.
  36. Rest is productive.
  37. Gratitude doesn’t just brighten the day. It multiplies joy in ways you can’t measure. It shifts ordinary moments into holy ones.
  38. The journey matters more than the finish line.
  39. Never be too proud to say, “I was wrong.” Or “I don’t know.”
  40. Faith isn’t about knowing all the answers.
  41. Celebrate progress, not perfection.
  42. Trails are better with company. I’ve seen some of the deepest conversations unfold at mile three.
  43. Be the first to say “thank you.”
  44. Find work you believe in, but don’t let it define you.
  45. Love is the legacy worth leaving.
  46. Don’t compare. Contentment is wealth.
  47. Your words can build or break. Choose to build. Always.
  48. A long hug can mend a broken heart. I’ve felt that healing in the arms of family.
  49. Keep learning, keep growing. Continuous improvement matters. Even the smallest step forward is still forward.
  50. Tradition ties generations together, especially if that tradition involves an old family recipe that takes hours and lots of teamwork to make.
  51. Tell stories. Your family needs them. Stories pass down more than facts. They carry history and identity.
  52. Choose wonder over cynicism.
  53. You can’t outgive God, but you can follow His example.
  54. Every season has its beauty. Even Oklahoma summers with their heat and humidity have sunsets worth pausing for (clearly I appreciate sunrises and sunsets).
  55. Be present. Tomorrow isn’t promised.
  56. Family trust is sacred. Break it once, and it may never return the same. Protect it as carefully as you protect your home.
  57. Celebrate the small wins. A child’s smile, a project finished, or a quiet evening with family. Cherish these moments.
  58. Joy often hides in the small, ordinary things.
  59. Life is a gift. At every age, unwrap it with wonder.

4 Bonus Lessons (which means I came up with four more that I didn’t want to exclude)

  1. Adapt or be left behind. If you’re the best buggy whip maker, prepare to adapt when automobiles come out. Don’t cling to the past so tightly that you miss the future.
  2. The quiet miracle of savings and compound interest. Einstein was right. Compound interest is the most amazing thing. Steadily and quietly setting aside a portion of your income builds your wealth over time. It also provides peace of mind and freedom for your future self.
  3. Learn outside your lane. Take time to study things that don’t seem connected to your work. The most important lessons often come from entirely different fields.
  4. Travel opens two windows. When you visit a new country, you learn about their culture, their food, their people. But you also return seeing your own home differently…with gratitude, with perspective, and with fresh eyes.

Photo by Mantas Hesthaven on Unsplash

Things I Wish I Knew When I Was Your Age

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…

Photo by Justin Cron on Unsplash

The Shades Are Down – Reflecting on Anthony de Mello’s Parable

Tim Ferris has a weekly newsletter – 5 Bullet Friday.  In last Friday’s update, he highlighted a quote from The Way to Love, by Anthony de Mello.  This post isn’t related to that quote (although it could be).  It’s based on the rabbit hole I dove into, reading other parts of the book.  Right out of the gate, de Mello offers a short parable that’s simple at first glance but goes deeper the longer you sit with it.

“A group of tourists sits on a bus that is passing through gorgeously beautiful country, lakes and mountains and green fields and rivers. But the shades of the bus are pulled down. They don’t have the slightest idea of what lies beyond the windows of the bus. All the time of their journey is spent in squabbling over who will have the seat of honor in the bus, who will be applauded, who will be well considered. And so they remain until the journey’s end.”

It’s not a long parable, but it says a lot.

We are each on this ride.  This one journey through life. And all around us is beauty: the people we love, small joys, the smell of fresh rain, a child’s laughter, songbirds chirping right outside our window, the warmth of a good cup of coffee in the morning. 

But our shades are down. We don’t see any beauty, because we’re too busy with things that don’t matter.

We’re measuring. Comparing. Ranking. Arguing about position, prestige, attention. Scrolling, reacting. Meanwhile, the scenery goes by. Gorgeous, wild, and fleeting. We barely glance out the window.

What struck me about de Mello’s story wasn’t the travelers’ arguments.  It’s the view that was always there. The view never stopped being beautiful. The issue wasn’t the lack of beauty. The issue was where they were looking.

This parable is a quiet reminder to lift the shade. To let in the light. To remember that it’s not about getting the “best seat on the bus.” It’s about not missing the view.

So today, maybe take a breath. Look around. Listen a little longer. Smile at someone. Appreciate a small thing that usually passes by unnoticed.

Another of de Mello’s insights that’s in line with his parable:

“The most difficult thing in the world is to listen, to see. We don’t want to look, because if we do, we may change. We don’t want to look, because we may discover that the world is not what we thought it was.”

Sometimes the shades stay down not because we’re distracted, but because we’re afraid. If we truly see what matters, we might have to stop chasing things that don’t. We might have to let go of the version of ourselves that depends on being applauded or admired or seen in a certain way.

But what if that’s the invitation? Not to force ourselves to change, but to wake up to what’s real in our lives. To notice the world again. To feel the wonder again.

The awareness de Mello points to is freeing, like the child’s creativity in my previous post.

It’s the kind of awareness that reminds us we’re not stuck in the noise unless we choose to be. We can pull up the shade. We can look.

Because the ride is short. The view is worth seeing. 

And in that beauty, we can see we are never really far from joy.

Photo by Eiliv Aceron on Unsplash

Creating Like Children

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. 

Maybe we all need a little more of that. 

To create like children again.

Photo by pine watt on Unsplash

Resist the Rut

It’s easy to fall into the rut.

To assume that delays are normal.
That long lead times are just “the way things are.”
That bureaucracy is an immovable force we’re all meant to quietly and endlessly orbit.

But here’s the question we should be asking:
Does something really take months to get done…or is that just the rut talking?

Ruts are sneaky. They dress up as policies, forms, regulatory frameworks, meetings, approvals.

They start small.  Maybe with one postponed decision or an overcautious email.  Before long, they’re a deep trench. One that feels safer to live in than escape.

Some processes do require time. Some decisions need careful research and thoughtful consideration.

But not everything takes as long as we pretend.  And if we’re being honest, we often lean on red tape as a crutch. To justify inaction, to mask fear, to cover for indecision, to avoid risk. Maybe to avoid the work altogether.

We say things like:

-“That’s how our system works.”

-“These things take time.”

-“We’ll have to check with Legal.”

-“I’m waiting on approvals before I can move forward.”

But what if we stopped waiting?

The 10 Million Dollar Question:

If you or your organization were promised $10 million the moment this project is completed—this thing you’re currently delaying—how long would it actually take to finish?

-How focused would you suddenly become?
-How many hurdles would get knocked out of your way?
-How quickly would meetings be scheduled, decisions made, and steps taken?

If your answer is “much faster,” then the rut is running the show. You’re not stuck. You and your organization are settling for the slow lane.

What if we challenge the assumptions about how long things should take?

What if we stop admiring and massaging the problem and started solving it?

What if we stop delegating or offloading the issue to another department, and just fixed it ourselves…today?

Organizations that resist the rut move faster. They ask better questions. They take the time to consider how to eliminate hurdles. They focus on outcomes, not just process. They know when structure helps, and when it hinders. They trim what’s unnecessary and protect what’s essential.

This isn’t about being reckless. It’s about refusing to be lulled into complacency. It’s about bringing urgency back to the table.

It’s about remembering that progress often begins with someone brave enough to say: “Why not now?”

If you’re feeling stuck, ask yourself:
-Are you really bound by rules and timelines? Or just by a habit of delay?

Resist the rut.

Challenge the default.

Challenge the impossible and make it possible.

Push for better.

It might take less time than you think.

h/t – my colleague, Jacob Smith.  An extremely productive and prolific software development manager who regularly challenges the default and always pushes for better.

Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash

What I Thought I Knew

What I Thought I Knew

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.

Photo by Andrew DesLauriers on Unsplash

Running Through the Tall Grass

“You will know that your children will be many, and your descendants like the grass of the earth.” – Job 5:25

This image of my granddaughter running through the tall grass lingers in my mind, a snapshot of pure joy and freedom. The grass climbs high as her shoulders, swaying in the gentle breeze as she runs, her laughter echoing across the open field.

The sun, high in the sky, casts a warm glow across the landscape, reflecting off the stalks and highlighting the strands of her long blonde hair. It’s a moment of unbridled innocence, an expression of life at its most carefree—a reminder of the potential and possibilities that lie ahead in her life.

Watching her, I’m struck by how this simple act of running, so natural and effortless, captures the essence of childhood. Children have an innate ability to live fully in the present, to see the world as a place of wonder and adventure. For them, the future is not something to be feared, but something to eagerly anticipate. Every new experience is a chance to explore, to learn, to grow. In her dash through the tall grass, we get a glimpse of how life is meant to be lived—full of energy, curiosity, and a fearless embrace of the unknown.

As the years (decades) go by, it’s easy to lose our innocence, our thirst for adventure. We may see our future with a sense of foreboding, even doom…rather than an opportunity to expand our journey. We allow the sense of adventure that once propelled us forward to be dulled by the responsibilities and challenges that life inevitably brings. Our carefree days of childhood disappear into the past.

The passage of time doesn’t have to diminish our sense of adventure. We can choose to embrace life with the same enthusiasm and curiosity that we had as children. We can still find joy in the simple pleasures, still run toward the unknown with hope in our hearts.

Life’s journey is not about avoiding the tall grass, but about diving into it, feeling the sun warm our backs and the gentle breeze cooling our faces. It’s about seeing each day as an opportunity to expand our horizons, to live fully and freely, just as my grandkids do.

The tall grass may rise like a challenge, but it is also where the most profound discoveries await. And as I step into that field, I carry with me the certainty that the journey ahead, like the path I’ve already walked, holds boundless potential.

In a field of tall grass she runs,
her golden hair warmed by the sun,
each step a whisper of freedom,
the horizon an open invitation.

I watch her and remember—
the world for me was once this wide,
full of endless possibilities,
before fear narrowed that view.

But the grass still sways,
and I can still run,
following her laughter,
knowing the path ahead
will bring great discoveries,

a promise of new beginnings.

p/c – My daughter, Julianne, texted this photo earlier this week of Lizzy running through the tall grass of their pasture.  The moment I saw the photo, I knew the topic of my next blog post. 

Embrace Newton’s Motion: Breaking Free from Inertia

Newton’s first law of motion (also called the law of inertia), states that an object at rest will stay at rest, and an object in motion will stay in motion unless acted upon by an external force. While this principle is foundational in physics, it can be applied to the way we live our lives. 

In our daily lives, it’s easy to remain at rest. We experience moments of doubt and confusion, low motivation, and a natural tendency to avoid change. This mental and emotional inertia can keep us stuck, making it difficult to take action or move forward. Organizations often reinforce this inertia with incentives that promote the perceived “safety” of maintaining the status quo.

As we age, this resistance to movement can become even stronger. We rely on past experiences, often using them as justifications for inaction. “It didn’t work before, so why would it work this time?” This mindset is a barrier to personal growth and fulfillment.

Unfortunately, a life at rest, devoid of risk and new experiences, can become empty and unfulfilling.

Our goal should be to actively push against the inertia holding us in place. This involves taking risks, trying new things, and offering our time and energy to others. Overcoming inertia requires a conscious effort to break free from the comfort of staying still.

The second part of Newton’s law of inertia emphasizes that an object in motion tends to stay in motion. This should be a powerful motivator. Once we start moving in a direction, it’s likely that we’ll continue to do so unless something actively stops us.

Turns out that those around us are battling their own inertia and may not have the energy to impede our progress.

By choosing to move, we can capitalize on opportunities that arise. While others remain stuck in their self-imposed rest, we can explore new paths, achieve our goals, and live our most fulfilling life long before they even notice what we’re doing.

Embrace the motion. Take action. Push past the barriers, especially self-imposed barriers.   The world is full of opportunities for those who dare to tap into the Newtonian motion that’s available to each of us…all we have to do is move. 

p/c – Benjamin Voros, Unsplash.com

Background Processes:  How much emotional capacity are they consuming?

Have you ever looked at all the processes running in the background on your computer?  You can see them in Task Manager. 

Some of them are recognizable and necessary.  But there are probably a bunch that don’t need to be there.  Some may have been put there by advertising platforms, some may be remnants of old programs you used years ago.

Each one consumes your computer’s finite CPU and memory capacity.  Each one is jockeying for position in the hierarchy of tasks.

If you’re able to take the time to identify and eliminate the unnecessary background tasks, your computer’s performance improves.  Software runs faster.  You can open and work on bigger files without waiting forever (measured in seconds nowadays) for them to load. 

How many meaningless or unnecessary background processes do you have running in your life? 

How many of these processes consume valuable emotional capacity in your head? 

How many are sapping your energy, your creativity, your productivity, or your ability to think deeply about a subject?

Our minds are amazingly powerful.  They can provide incredible clarity and understanding.  They can energize and motivate us to push into new frontiers, explore our limits, and hone our craft beyond all outside expectations. 

But if we allow our mind to be clouded, to waste its valuable processing power on dumb things, unnecessary background processes, or dramas that have nothing to do with us, all that amazing power is wasted. 

Our understanding and motivation about what we’re doing, both now and in the future, will become cloudy and fragmented.  It’s easy to see how this can lead to a sense of hopelessness…a sense that there’s nothing for us in the future except for more cloudiness and confusion.

Consider all the distractions we allow to get in the way of our clear thinking. 

How many can we eliminate?  How many can we channel in a productive direction, or remove entirely from our lives?

It’s worth our finite time to do a “background process audit” in our life.  See just how much of our emotional capacity is being wasted without adding any real value to our lives. 

It won’t be easy.  These meaningless background processes are desperate to continue living in our head. This audit will require self-awareness, introspection, and sometimes difficult decisions about what to eliminate. 

The payoff for all this effort? 

Mental clarity for the things that truly matter, increased productivity, and a more hopeful view of our future.

p/c – Justin Tietsworth – Unsplash