Category: Patience

Always Improve Your Position

A few days ago, I was listening to Jocko Willink speak about the quiet discipline behind Brazilian jiu-jitsu. I’m not a jiu-jitsu person, but one idea landed for me. It’s a truth I already knew but had never heard spoken so simply:

Always improve your position.

In jiu-jitsu, nothing happens all at once. A submission arrives like lightning, but only to the untrained eye. What looks like a sudden victory is really the final expression of dozens of subtle movements that came before it. A hip shifts. A grip tightens. An elbow gains an inch of space. Most of these moves go unnoticed. Each small adjustment creates a little more room, a little more leverage, a little more advantage.

I’ve always believed real progress works this way. It’s rarely dramatic. It’s quiet and patient. The accumulated effect of showing up, learning something new, adding a bit more care, and preparing a little more than required.

Breakthroughs rarely come from a single moment of inspiration. They come from the quiet work no one sees. The thoughtful practice that sharpens your skills, the trust built over months of ordinary conversations, the time spent learning before making a decision. When opportunity arrives, it looks sudden to others. To you, it feels like the next logical step.

This truth showed up clearly for me after a derecho tore through our property on Father’s Day weekend a few years ago. Ninety-mile-per-hour winds knocked down at least thirty trees across multiple acres. When I walked our land the next morning, everything felt broken and overwhelming. The cleanup looked like a project that would take months. I didn’t have months to devote to it.

But I did have mornings. So, I decided to work for an hour and a half every day before work. I cleared a small section each morning. It was incredibly slow. I dragged branches, cut trunks, chipped debris, split firewood, and made countless trips to our local dump. Small steps, small progress, one morning at a time.

Over the course of a year (maybe more), I worked my way across our entire property. Along the way, I cut in new hiking trails and removed a number of unhealthy trees. What started as a mess became a healthier stand of trees and a network of paths that look like they’ve been here forever.

Out of destruction came a daily habit that changed my life. I still work outside every morning. Clearing brush, trimming trees, expanding trails, building chicken coops, restoring a rustic barn. All in small ninety-minute bites. It’s like a time-lapse video created through countless quiet mornings of small improvements.

The pattern I saw on my land is exactly what Jocko described on the mat. I didn’t need a grand plan or a burst of superhuman effort. I needed to improve my position every day, just by a little.

Improve your position today, even by an inch, and tomorrow becomes easier. Improve it again tomorrow, and the day after that reveals options that didn’t exist before. You don’t need surges of motivation or dramatic reinvention. You only need the willingness to keep moving, always improving.

Careers grow this way. Trust grows this way. Faith deepens this way. Families strengthen this way.

Progress won’t always be linear. Some days distractions will pull us off course, or setbacks will undo work we thought was finished. All of this is part of the journey. Even then, the way forward still comes through small steps. Imperfect, uneven, but the work of always improving our position remains the same.

We improve our position slowly, almost without noticing. That’s enough. Tomorrow, we’ll improve again. Then one day, we’ll find ourselves able to take a step that would have felt impossible a year ago.

Focus on the next inch. The miles will take care of themselves.

Photo by Walter Martin on Unsplash – a great rendition of my early morning work environment for at least a year.

When an Idea Stops Being Yours Alone

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.

The Way of Water

“Nothing in the world is as soft and yielding as water. Yet for dissolving the hard and inflexible, nothing can surpass it.” – Tao Te Ching, Chapter 78

Water moves around, through, or beneath whatever resists it. It adapts. And in doing so, it shapes mountains, smooths stone and carves out entire landscapes. Its quiet and steady strength endures, and transforms.

Some of history’s greatest leaders have embodied this same soft strength…few more clearly than Saint Teresa of Calcutta.

She was small in stature and quiet when she spoke. She lived a life defined by simplicity and humility. But her leadership moved nations.

Heads of state sought her advice. Governments stepped aside to let her mission continue. And her Missionaries of Charity, formed with only a handful of sisters, grew into an international force of compassion serving the poorest of the poor.

When the Indian government initially refused her permission to work in Calcutta’s slums, she didn’t protest or make demands. She simply thanked them, smiled, and began serving the dying on the streets anyway.

Her quiet, consistent actions spoke louder than any argument. Within months, officials were granting her permission and offering resources and support.

Like water finding its way through the smallest cracks in stone, she found the path through quiet, faithful persistence.

“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” – Saint Teresa of Calcutta

In leadership, force can create motion, but usually at the expense of trust, creativity, and ownership from the people you’re leading. When leaders rely on authority, titles, or pressure to drive results, they may achieve short-term compliance, but they rarely inspire long-term commitment or innovation.

Instead, they create environments where people focus on rules more than results, and on compliance rather than creative contribution.

Gentle, listening-based leadership works differently.

It adapts without losing direction. It invites people to bring the best version of themselves and creates space for their growth. Like water, it finds ways around obstacles, sometimes slowly and sometimes all at once…but always with clarity and purpose. 

Water teaches us that soft can be strong. Let it shape how you lead.

Soft, persistent power moves mountains, changes hearts, and builds trust.

One quiet drop at a time. 

Photo by Trac Vu on Unsplash

The Thing Before the Thing IS the Thing

Somewhere along the way, I’ve noticed a quiet truth.

The thing I was working toward (the goal, the vision, the project, the finish line) always required other steps. Preparation. Research. Practice. Training. A foundation. A warm-up.

While I tried to focus on the thing I wanted to do, most of my time was spent doing all the other things that needed to happen first.

Building a deck means hauling lumber, squaring the posts, digging holes…and at least three trips to Home Depot. Writing a book means staring at blank pages, deleting paragraphs (and chapters), and researching obscure details that may never make it to print. Staying in shape means lacing up your shoes at dawn when no one else is watching. Starting a business means filling out countless forms, talking to lots of people who say no, and revisiting your reasons why, countless times. 

These tasks are not detours or distractions. They are merely steps on the journeys we’ve chosen.

If we can learn to love these quiet and often unnoticed tasks that prepare the way, we may find the joy we’re seeking was there all along.

We might discover that the thing we’re chasing isn’t the prize. It only led us to the road we were meant to walk. To meet the people we were meant to meet.

So go ahead. Lace up your shoes at dawn. Cut that first board. Tape off all the areas you don’t want to paint. Make that first sales pitch. Get to know people you never expected to meet.

Embrace all the steps that come before the thing.

It turns out, they are the thing.

“Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.” — Abraham Lincoln

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

Mesmerism and the Rhythm of Showing Up

“When I’m in writing mode for a novel, I get up at four a.m. and work for five to six hours. In the afternoon, I run for ten kilometers or swim for fifteen hundred meters (or do both), then I read a bit and listen to some music. I go to bed at nine p.m. I keep to this routine every day without variation. The repetition itself becomes the important thing; it’s a form of mesmerism. I mesmerize myself to reach a deeper state of mind.” — Haruki Murakami

Haruki Murakami has written some of the most widely read novels and screenplays — Norwegian Wood, Kafka on the Shore, 1Q84, and others. His stories are wide and varied. But his process? Based on this quote, it’s as simple as it gets (on first glance).

He wakes early. He works. He exercises. He reads. He rests. Then he does it all again. Every day. Without variation.

What makes that interesting isn’t just the discipline. It’s what that discipline creates. He calls it mesmerism.

He’s not trying to force creativity. He’s building a space, mentally and physically, where creativity knows it’s welcome. And he shows up to that space every day, without fail.

This kind of repetition, over time, can shift your state of mind. It can take you to a quieter, more focused place. It can help you bypass distraction and access something deeper.

He doesn’t wait for inspiration to strike. He prepares for it. He builds a rhythm and shows up to it daily. Over time, his mind knows—it’s time to create. And that, he says, is when the real writing happens.

It’s easy to think of habits as something utilitarian. A way to squeeze productivity out of our day. But what if repetition isn’t just a tool for efficiency? What if it’s a path into something more meaningful?

What if the act of doing the same thing, at the same time, in the same way, becomes a form of permission to go deeper?

Murakami’s routine isn’t about optimization. It’s about entry. It’s a way of reaching the part of himself that doesn’t respond well to noise, pressure, or force. And the only way in is repetition.

This idea of mesmerism applies to more than writing novels or screenplays.

Maybe your “deep work” is building a business, raising a family, managing a new venture, or simply trying to stay anchored when life is anything but steady.

The specific rhythm doesn’t matter. What matters is that it’s yours. That it becomes familiar enough, trusted enough, to lower your resistance and invite your mind to settle.

A short walk each morning before the day begins.

A time and place for reading, thinking, or praying without interruption.

A quiet moment after dinner, before sleep.

These aren’t productivity hacks. They’re entry points. Invitations to go below the surface of reaction and noise.  To meet yourself in a more focused, honest way.

Reflecting on this quote, I see it as less about writing and more about living on purpose.

There’s no perfect rhythm. No universal method. But there is something powerful in choosing to show up each day, in the same way, with the same posture of readiness…even if it feels small.

Because over time, that rhythm changes us. It makes us less reliant on inspiration and more connected to our purpose.

Less reactive, more rooted. Less scattered, steadier.

Show up.
Repeat.
Let the repetition carry you deeper.

That’s where the real work—and the real exploration—can begin.

h/t – once again, Tim Ferris’s 5 Bullet Friday newsletter.  He recently highlighted this Murakami quote.  When I first read it, it didn’t make much of an impression.  Who uses mesmerism in a sentence?  Then I decided to re-read it, even though it’s a long one.   

On my second reading, the quote sunk in and got me thinking about how his process of mesmerizing through repetition can be applied to anything we’re trying to accomplish (it even showed me how to use the word mesmerizing in a sentence). It takes us past brute discipline and into a rhythm-based approach that prepares our mind to do the work we want it to do; in the space that repetition provides.   

Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash

Maybe So…

“Maybe so.”

It’s such a quiet phrase. Almost a shrug. A way of saying, yes, that’s true…but that’s not the whole story.

Life is full of maybe so…

This challenge I’m facing is hard. Maybe so.
Someone else got the credit I worked for. Maybe so.
The odds are stacked against me. Maybe so.
The situation is messy, complicated, unfair.  Maybe so.

Maybe so…but I’m not letting that be the final word.

Truth and hope aren’t always in competition. You can fully acknowledge the reality of something and still choose where to focus.

Perspective is a choice.

I’m tired, maybe so.
I’ve failed, maybe so.
This isn’t how I pictured it, maybe so.

But I’m also thankful.
I’m still showing up.
This might be exactly what I need, even though I may never admit it.

I’m learning to live in the tension between what is and what matters more.

We all get to decide where to place our attention.
Some people zero in on the obstacle. Others fix their eyes on the opportunity.

One sees the storm. The other watches for the rainbow.

Both are real. But only one will move you forward.

“Attitude is the difference between an ordeal and an adventure.”
— Bob Bitchin (he’s a real guy with an amazing story…stories)

Life hands us situations we don’t choose.  Detours, delays, disappointments. But attitude? That’s something we bring to the table.

Sometimes the smallest shift in mindset is what turns a setback into a story worth telling. What once felt like a burden becomes the beginning of a bold new chapter.

So yes…your facts may be true. The obstacles might be real. The weariness might be justified.

Maybe so…but this is where we’re meant to be.  Besides, this story isn’t finished.

The best parts of life come after we stop fighting the facts and start choosing the lens we use to see them.

h/t – “Yeah, I know what they say, money can’t buy everything.  Well, maybe so, but it could buy me a boat.” — Chris Janson

I smile every time I hear this song. Sometimes a little humor, a little honesty, and a down-to-earth dream are exactly what we need to reset our thinking. It’s not about the boat.  It’s about the choice to believe that something good still waits ahead…if we choose to see it.

Photo by Jarrett Fifield 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

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

The Power of Multiplying Yourself: Why Training and Supporting Your Team Leads to Success

The belief that doing everything yourself is faster can limit growth. Training and empowering your team leads to expanded capabilities, time for strategic initiatives, and a strong organizational culture.

p/c: Andrea Gian – Unsplash

“It’ll be faster for me to just handle this task now and get it done.”

“It’ll take me more time to train someone how to do this than it will take me to do it myself.”

“I’ll just take care of this task myself and get it out of the way.”

Sound familiar? 

It’s easy to fall into this trap of thinking that doing everything yourself is the most efficient way to get things done. This mindset not only limits your own growth and potential but also minimizes your team’s and your organization’s potential.

Investing your time in training and supporting your direct reports is not just beneficial—it’s essential for long-term success.

Here’s why:

  • Trust and Empowerment: When you take the time to train your team members, you show them that you trust their abilities. This trust fosters a sense of empowerment, motivating them to take on new challenges and responsibilities with confidence.
  • Expanded Capabilities: By preparing your team for their next levels of challenge, you expand their capabilities and push their limits outward. Consider this: Instead of just solving today’s problems, imagine if your team could handle tomorrow’s challenges without you needing to intervene. As they tackle new tasks and acquire new skills, they become stronger and more versatile contributors to the organization.
  • Time Management: While it may seem faster to handle tasks yourself in the short term, investing in training your team ultimately frees up your time for higher-level responsibilities. Imagine if you could focus on strategic initiatives, process improvement, and growth opportunities for the organization, rather than being bogged down in day-to-day tasks.
  • Cultural Impact: Creating a culture of learning and growth within your team not only boosts morale but also strengthens the entire organization. When your team members feel challenged and supported in their professional development, they’re more engaged and motivated to contribute their best work.
  • Preparation for Growth: By nurturing the skills and talents of your team members, you’re preparing the organization to adapt and grow. A team that is continuously learning and evolving is better equipped to handle the new challenges that are just around the corner (whether you see them coming, or not).

Neglecting your team’s development can have serious consequences. Employees who feel stagnant and unchallenged are more likely to become disengaged. Disengaged employees will leave, or worse, they’ll choose to stay and become seat warmers—adding nothing valuable to the organization.

People want to learn. They want to be challenged. They are most engaged when they’re pushing the boundaries of their capability, taking on new skills, and becoming more valuable to their organization.

The adage of “it’s faster to do it myself” is short-sighted and will limit your career growth.

Take the time to train and support your team. You will multiply your effectiveness and create a powerful culture of empowerment and continuous improvement within your organization.

The Delicate Balance of Telling and Teaching

Your role as the teacher and mentor is to prepare your mentee to work independently and effectively…

“I can’t believe she can’t tie her own shoes.  She’s old enough to know by now.”

My friend was talking about his 5-year-old daughter at the time. 

I asked if he’d ever taken the time to teach her how to tie her shoes.  He stared at me and said that wasn’t his job and that she should have figured it out by now. 

Why tell this story (which really happened!)? 

To illustrate how important it is to teach and mentor others…whether they’re our kids, grandkids, employees, family, or friends. 

It should be obvious that if you don’t teach, your student misses out on the chance to truly learn and grow.  By choosing not to teach, you’re short-changing your mentee of the lessons you’ve learned through hard-earned experience.

In moments of urgency or simplicity, direct instructions are most appropriate, providing a clear roadmap for immediate action (telling).

But true teaching is the art of imparting understanding – the “why” behind actions. It requires a commitment of time and energy, and showcases the significance of tasks, the interconnections between steps, and the importance of specific approaches…usually through storytelling.  

What kinds of stories?  Stories that provide a personal connection, illustrate key points, and allow your learners to connect emotionally to what you’re teaching.  Stories also help students drop their defensiveness toward receiving new information.

Another great teaching method is to ask questions. Questions encourage critical thinking.  Ask the student why they think something is important, or how they view a situation.  What would they do in the situation?  What’s happening that may not be obvious? If their answers are incomplete or miss the nuances of a situation, you can provide additional perspectives and help them understand what to look for.

How can we tell stories and ask questions about something when it’s urgent?  We already learned that in urgent situations, telling is often the most appropriate way of getting the right action quickly.  To create truly teachable moments resulting from an urgent event, it’s critical that you take the time after the urgency has passed to discuss lessons learned, and maybe even how to avoid the urgency next time.  

Your role as the teacher and mentor is to prepare your mentee to work independently and effectively.  Not only how to tie their shoes, but why it’s important to tie them in the first place. 

I have one favor to ask:  If you find this information useful, please forward and recommend it to someone else.  Thanks!