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

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Beautiful Things Don’t Ask for Attention

I saw The Secret Life of Walter Mitty on an airplane ride recently. At a significant moment in the story, we hear the line, “Beautiful things don’t ask for attention.”

The photographer in the story chooses not to take a coveted photo of the elusive snow leopard. Instead, he simply enjoys the beautiful moment with his own eyes.

Real beauty doesn’t need to perform. It’s authentic and humble, whether anyone stops to notice or not.

A person of character lives this way. They have no need to prove themselves. They show up with kindness, consistency, and honesty. The neighbor who shovels snow from an elderly woman’s driveway before dawn, leaving no trace. Or the teacher who stays late to help a struggling student, never mentioning it to anyone.

The beauty of their character reveals itself in the way they live each day.

Humility makes this possible. It allows a life to shine without glare, to influence others by being genuine. Like mountains that reflect the glow of sunrise or wildflowers blooming unseen in a meadow, people of quiet integrity embody a beauty that doesn’t depend on recognition.

In our culture that rewards noise and spectacle, this is easy to forget. We’re told to broadcast accomplishments and measure our worth by attention. Yet the most meaningful lives belong to those who live true to themselves, free from the need for applause.

The things that endure, whether in people or in nature, carry their beauty without fanfare. They simply are.

There’s a paradox in writing about something that exists most powerfully in silence. Maybe that’s the point. Celebrating this kind of beauty without claiming it for ourselves.

But we can learn to recognize it. To be shaped and inspired by it. And, in our quieter moments, we can strive to live it.

Photo by Patrick Schaudel on Unsplash – some of my fondest memories involve waking up in a tent on crisp mountain mornings, basking in the beautiful glow of the rising sun.

Who Will Hold the Boulder? (a short parable)

There once was a village named Smithville, tucked neatly beneath a mountain. Life was simple until the mayor spotted a massive boulder teetering on the slope. Experts confirmed the obvious. The massive boulder might fall and crush the town.

In a flash of civic urgency, the mayor declared: “We must secure the boulder!” And so they did. With ropes, pulleys, and sheer determination, ten villagers at a time held the lines to keep the boulder in place. They rotated shifts around the clock. It became routine, then tradition, then law.

Children sang, “Hold the boulder, hold the boulder, we must resolve to hold that boulder!” before school each morning. A cabin was built for the rope holders. A trail crew was hired to keep the path safe for the endless march of workers. Rope suppliers prospered since the intricate rope system required constant maintenance. Soon, nearly half the town’s budget went to “boulder security.”

Still, the village flourished. Visitors came to marvel at the rope-wrapped rock. “Come see our mighty gravity defying boulder!” proclaimed their glossy posters. A bond was passed to fund a visitor center and tour buses. Hotels filled. Restaurants boomed. Property values soared near “Boulder View Estates.”

One day, a newcomer named Brunswick questioned the logic of leaving the boulder where it was. “Why not break the boulder into smaller, harmless pieces?” The council laughed at his question.

The mayor beamed with pride, “Our boulder isn’t a threat. It’s our livelihood! Besides, we have a rope system to protect us.”

The townspeople nodded, waving their SAVE OUR BOULDER signs in support.

Who could argue with prosperity?

Brunswick left shaking his head.

Years later, despite the ropes, despite the cables, despite the slogans, the inevitable happened. That winter, the boulder grew heavier than ever with snow and ice. Villagers had trouble reaching the ropes, as storms blocked the trail. Shifts went unfilled. Fewer villagers meant fewer ropes to hold the boulder.

“The forecasters said it wouldn’t be this bad,” the mayor reassured them, as though the weather itself had broken its promise.

Workers tugged and shouted, trying to keep their grip. Fingers numbed, feet slipped, and a few gave up entirely.  The remaining ropes snapped one by one. The sound echoed through the valley like rifle shots. The mountain itself seemed to groan.

Then came the moment. The final rope gave way with a thunderous crack. The boulder lurched forward, dragging what remained of the cable nets with it.

As it tumbled down the mountain, the ground shook violently. Houses rattled, dishes shattered, and children screamed.

The mighty rock careened toward the valley, smashing trees like twigs and carving deep scars into the earth. Clouds of dust rose as if the mountain were on fire. Each bounce sent shockwaves through Smithville, knocking people off their feet. The villagers ran in terror, listening to the deafening roar as the great stone rolled ever closer.

When it finally came to rest, the devastation was complete. The visitor center lay in ruins. Boulder View Estates was flattened into rubble. Streets were cracked, and smoke rose from shattered chimneys.

Yet by some miracle, no one was hurt. The thunder of the falling boulder gave everyone time to flee. Amid the destruction, whispers of a miracle could be heard all over the battered town. 

As the dust cleared, townsfolk began to consider their plans for rebuilding. Some sketched designs for a grand new visitor center. This one would tell the story of The Great Fall.

A five-year plan was drafted to study rope alternatives, complete with a Rope Oversight Committee and quarterly progress reports.

Bureaucracy bloomed again, strong as ever.

Though no one mentioned the missing boulder.

Story behind the image – I used Google’s new Nano Banana image generator for this image. I asked it to produce a large and evil boulder sitting on top of a mountain, held by ropes, overlooking a nice town that it’s threatening…in a cartoonish style. This is the first image it produced. It missed the part about the ropes, but I like the over-the-top (see what I did there?) theme of this rendering. And that boulder may appear in a few more stories in the future.

© 2025 Bob Dailey. Licensed under Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0.

100 Lessons for Playing (and Winning) the Long Game of Leadership

Ideas and wisdom often arrive with familiar roots.

My views on leadership come from my lived experiences and lessons I’ve learned from great builders and thinkers like Andrew Carnegie, Peter Drucker, Tom Peters, Ken Blanchard, Marshall Goldsmith, Zig Ziglar, Stephen Covey, Jack Welch, Seth Godin, Jeff Bezos, Gary Vaynerchuk, Tim Ferriss, Jocko Willink, James Clear, and countless others.

I’ve also worked with amazing managers and mentors over many decades, including a few who taught me what not to do.

Since I find myself often returning to these lessons, I thought it would be useful to write them down in a list for easier reference.

Leadership Foundations

1. Leadership begins in your mind long before it shows up in your actions.

2. Self-awareness is a leader’s first and most enduring responsibility. Know how your actions land, then lead on purpose.

3. Character outweighs credentials over the long haul.

4. Integrity compounds like interest. The longer you hold on to it, the more it grows.

5. Values are the compass that keep you on course when circumstances shift.

6. Humility is the strength to put others first.

7. Influence comes from trust, not job descriptions.

Vision and Direction

8. A leader’s vision must be big enough to inspire, but clear enough to act on today.

9. Clarity reduces fear. Ambiguity fuels it.

10. Momentum builds when people see the destination and believe they can reach it.

11. Vision is not just what you see. It’s what you help others see.

12. The clearer you are about the goal, the less room there is for fear to grow.

13. Purpose is the map. Storms are just temporary detours.

14. Belief in the destination turns small steps into powerful strides.

15. Every action should feel like part of the same bigger story.

16. Sometimes waiting is the boldest move you can make. Strategic patience is powerful (and extremely difficult).

People and Relationships

17. The right people in the right roles multiply results beyond what you can imagine.

18. A culture of respect will outlast a culture of urgency.

19. Listen like the person speaking might hand you the missing puzzle piece.

20. Pass the applause to others but keep the accountability close to your chest.

21. Trust is invisible, but when it’s gone, everything feels heavier.

22. Relationships need regular deposits of attention, not just withdrawals of effort.

23. Helping someone else win creates a tailwind for your own success.

Decision-Making

24. Good decisions blend facts, values, and the courage to act.

25. The first idea is often just the trailhead. Walk farther.

26. Energy without wisdom burns out. Wisdom without energy gathers dust.

27. Choose the option you can defend in the daylight and live with in the dark.

28. A quick, small decision can open doors a perfect plan never reaches.

29. It’s easier to fix a wrong turn early than to build a new road later.

30. Never cash in tomorrow’s credibility for today’s convenience.

Resilience and Adaptability

31. A setback is a classroom, not a graveyard.

32. Flexibility is a skill, not a personality trait. Practice it.

33. Change is the proving ground where talk becomes action. Priorities sharpen, assumptions get tested, and leadership shows up in decisions, owners, and dates. If nothing changes (no decision, no owner, no date) it was only talk.

34. Adapt your tactics, but never your core.

35. The best views are earned with effort you once thought impossible.

36. Challenges test your limits so you can discover you’re stronger than you ever imagined.

37. Sticking with it usually turns “almost” into “done.”

Growth and Learning

38. The best questions are the ones you don’t yet know how to answer.

39. The moment you stop learning, you stop leading. Sometimes before you notice.

40. Pride blocks the front door to growth. Curiosity leaves it wide open.

41. Ask for feedback before circumstances force it on you.

42. Teach your knowledge, always remembering that your actions teach your values.

43. Every conversation nudges someone closer to, or further from, their best self.

44. Failure carries lessons that success hides. Corollary: High water covers a lot of stumps.

Impact and Legacy

45. Success without significance is empty.

46. The influence you have on people’s lives will outlast your achievements.

47. Your legacy is written in the lives you touch, not in the titles you hold.

48. Leadership is something you borrow from the future. It must be returned in good condition.

49. The most meaningful titles are the ones people give you, not the ones on your nameplate.

50. Think in decades when deciding what to plant today.

51. Your success is multiplied when others stand taller because of you.

52. The best proof of leadership is when growth continues without your hand on the wheel.

53. Leave every place and every person better than they were when you arrived.

Communication & Culture

54. Say the quiet part kindly and clearly. Clarity without kindness bruises. Kindness without clarity confuses.

55. Stories travel farther (and faster) than memos. Stories move people. Memos inform them. Stories turn intention into action.

56. Consistency in small signals (tone, timing, follow-through) builds culture faster than slogans.

57. Meetings should create movement. Reserve live time for decisions and collaboration. End with owners and dates. If it’s just a podcast, send an email. If only two people need to talk, make it a call and give everyone else their time back.

58. Celebrate progress out loud so people know what “right” looks like.

59. Honesty scales when leaders go first. Name the hard thing and show how to address it.

60. Culture forms around what you tolerate as much as what you teach.

Execution & Accountability

61. Strategy stalls without a calendar. Put names and dates on intentions.

62. Start now. Ship one useful thing today. Ride the wave of momentum that follows.

63. Priorities aren’t what you say first. They’re what you do first.

64. When everything is urgent, nothing is important. Choose the one thing that unlocks the next three.

65. Inspect what you expect. Review, refine, and recommit in frequent loops.

66. Own the miss publicly and fix it quickly. Speed heals trust.

67. Scoreboards matter. People work smarter when progress (or lack thereof) is visible.

Faith, Purpose & Centering

68. Quiet time isn’t empty time. It’s where courage and wisdom refuel.

69. Purpose steadies the hands when the work gets heavy.

70. Gratitude turns pressure into perspective.

71. Servant leadership begins by asking, “Who needs strength from me today?”

72. Hope is a discipline. Practice it especially when results lag.

Leading Through Change & Uncertainty

73. Name the uncertainty. People handle the unknown better when it has boundaries.

74. Trade predictions for scenarios. Prepare for several futures, not just your favorite one.

75. Replan without blame. The map changes when the terrain does.

76. Communicate more than feels necessary. The vacuum of silence fills quickly with speculation.

77. Keep experiments small and reversible, so learning is fast and affordable.

78. Endurance is contagious. Your calm can be the team’s shelter in a hard storm.

Coaching & Talent Development

79. Grow people on purpose. Make development a standing agenda item.

80. Coach with questions that build judgment and ownership.

81. When you delegate the result, delegate the authority to achieve it. Authority and responsibility should be in balance.

82. Set intent and boundaries. Agree on check-ins. Then step back so the team can step up.

83. Size stretch work to the person’s readiness. Provide the right challenge, real help, and visible sponsorship. It’s okay if they reach the result by a different route than yours.

84. Build a bench before you need one. Succession begins on day one.

Supportive Organizational Behavior

85. Make it safe to disagree. Invite the view that challenges yours.

86. Credit ideas to their source. Recognition fuels contribution.

87. Write agendas as outcomes, not topics.

Systems Thinking & Process

88. Correct the mistake and improve the system that allowed it.

89. Turn recurring work into checklists and rhythms so excellence is repeatable. Then automate it.

90. Map the flow of work end to end. Prune any step that adds no value. Unblock the rest.

91. Measure what matters. Review it at a pace that improves the work.

Stakeholders & Customer Focus

92. Start with the customer and work back to today’s priorities.

93. Define success in customer outcomes, then align processes, metrics, and rewards.

94. Close the loop by telling people what changed and why.

Conflict & Courageous Conversations

95. Address tension early while the knot is small.

96. Separate the person from the problem. Aim at the issue, not the identity.

97. Put the real issue (the skunk) on the table. Agree on facts before you debate fixes.

Energy & Well-Being

98. Protect time for deep work and recovery so decisions are sharp.

99. Model healthy boundaries. Your example sets the team’s norms.

100. Choose a sustainable pace over heroic sprints. Consistency wins the long game.

Leadership is a skill to be learned and practiced over a lifetime. It grows through steady reflection, small improvements, course corrections, and new discoveries. These reminders pull us back to what matters when life and work get noisy.

Whether you lead a company, a classroom, a project, or a family, your influence reaches far beyond the moment.

The truest measure of leadership is the people we serve and the leaders they become.

Photo by Marcus Woodbridge on Unsplash – I love the idea of a lighthouse showing the way, standing firm and steady especially when the waves are their scariest.

What Is Happily Ever After?

The glass slipper fits perfectly. The prince takes Cinderella’s hand. The castle doors swing open, and as the camera pans out over the kingdom, the narrator’s voice declares, “And they lived happily ever after.”

The end.

What comes next? 

Did Cinderella and her prince travel the world together? Did they have children who drove them to the brink of exhaustion? Did she struggle to adjust to palace life? Did they face illness, loss, or financial strain? How did they support each other as they learned to build their life together?

“Happily ever after” is a blank canvas. It conjures a series of images in our head. Successes we dream of, milestones we hope to reach, adventures we’re planning, moments of pure joy we can almost taste.

For some, happily ever after is a corner office overlooking the city, business-class flights to international conferences, and coming home to a modern apartment where everything has its place.

For others, it’s Saturday morning pancakes with kids mixing the batter in a cloud of flour dust or teaching their daughter to ride a bike. Quiet evenings on the porch planning their next camping trip.

Still others may crave a life of endless travel, vagabonding from place to place, sampling cuisine from every corner of the world as they go.

There are as many versions of happiness and fulfilment as there are people.

Social media tries to curate our happiness by showing us picture-perfect moments. Engagement photos against stunning backdrops, vacation snapshots from exotic locations (often peering over two perfectly poured wine glasses on a balcony), career announcements celebrating promotions and new ventures.

These snippets of other people’s lives create a happiness catalog. A collection of achievements and experiences that can feel like requirements for a well-lived life.

We may start believing that fulfillment looks like someone else’s Instagram story, someone else’s LinkedIn update, someone else’s holiday letter.

Seeking fulfillment by following someone else’s template is always a fool’s errand.

Sure, be inspired by someone else’s success. Maybe borrow a travel idea, or try something new. But their world operates differently than ours. Their values, circumstances, and dreams belong uniquely to them.

What brings them deep satisfaction might leave us feeling empty. What fills our hearts might seem trivial to them.

True fulfillment can only come from our own perspectives, our own values, and our own definition of what makes us, and those we love, happiest.

Real “happily ever after” is wonderfully messy and beautifully imperfect. It blends all the goals and aspirations we have with all the compromises and adjustments we’ve made along the way.

Goals that seemed essential in our twenties might be irrelevant in our forties. The dreams we never imagined decades ago can suddenly become our life’s new mission.

This evolution reflects an ongoing process of learning who we are and what truly matters to us. Independent of what we thought we would want…or what others told us we should want.

Happily ever after lives in the ongoing appreciation of what we’ve built and who we’ve become. Our story matters because it’s still unfolding and it’s authentically ours. It doesn’t need to resemble the someone else’s highlight reel.

The glass slipper that fits you perfectly will look nothing like Cinderella’s. Maybe it’s a hiking boot, flip-flops, a running shoe, or something very formal, made of fancy leather…or no shoes at all.

You choose.

And that’s exactly as it should be.

Photo by Ella Heineman on Unsplash – because one of my greatest joys is making breakfast for my kids and grandkids on a Saturday morning…a wonderful part of my happily ever after.

I Was Just Wondering…

Are the stars just as bright from above as they are down here?

Do you get to see the ones you love? Your parents, your brothers and sisters, your old neighbors, that one special friend who always made you laugh?

Is there coffee in Heaven? Is it better than your favorite blend on a cold desert morning?

Do you remember everything now? Things once forgotten.

And now that you know, what do you know?

Do you hear us when we talk about you? When we laugh at your stories and try to retell them just right?

Do you miss us, or does love work differently there?

Can you see how much we love you still?

Are you proud of the life we’re trying to live?

Do you see how we carry your lessons forward, quietly passing your wisdom down, one small act at a time.

I wonder if you recognize your love moving through our family in the lives your grandkids and great-grandkids are creating.

And I was just wondering…

When it’s my time, when I finally get to see what you see, will you be waiting for me with open arms, and smiles, and one of your special meals that feels so much like home?

I think so.

But for now, I’ll keep wondering. 

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

The Next Generation—Are They Ready?

I received an email from Noah Kagan this week. Not because we’re personal friends, but because I subscribe to his newsletter. Noah, the CEO of AppSumo, often shares practical insights and thought-provoking questions from his journey in the tech world.

This particular message stood out. He talked about being fearful for his 10-month-old daughter’s future. With all the chaos in the world, the deepening divides, the rise of AI and robotics, the general noise of modern life, he wonders what kind of world she’ll inherit.

But instead of spiraling into worry, Noah laid out how he’s choosing to respond: by creating clarity, limiting distractions, and doubling down on the things that matter most. He’s building a foundation, not just for his own peace of mind, but for his daughter to inherit.

His email reminded me of a quote often attributed to Mark Twain: “The future is in the hands of a generation that isn’t ready for it.”

We didn’t have AI, social media, or the internet back in Mr. Twain’s day. But even then, concerns about “the next generation” were nothing new. Parents, teachers, and elders across every era in history have wondered if the next generation is truly ready.

Noah’s concern isn’t just that the next generation might be unprepared. It’s that the world itself might be too broken to navigate well. But history offers some perspective.

Every generation has faced challenges.  Wars, famines, political collapse, pandemics, technological upheaval, moral drift. And yet, the world moves forward. Somehow, each generation rises to meet its moment…even if their preparation feels lacking.

We don’t get to control the future, but we do influence it by how we live, what we model, and what we choose to pass on. We can’t predict what our children and grandchildren will face, or how they’ll respond. But we can teach them how to think, how to hold on to timeless values, and how to walk through hardship with strength and grace.

It’s natural to worry.

Let’s not forget that hardship doesn’t cancel out beauty.

Struggles don’t erase joy.

There will be triumphs ahead, too. If we’ve taught them well, they’ll learn to spot their small victories, celebrate them, and then pass along what matters to those who come after.

The future always arrives in the hands of the young—and the young are never quite ready. But then again, neither were we.

Photo by Timon Studler 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

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

Goals for 2025

I’ve never been a New Year’s resolution person.

Maybe it’s all my time spent working in businesses over the past four decades. We often start each year with a set of specific strategic goals. Some are grounded and achievable; others are wish casting—a small dream of what we might accomplish if everything aligns perfectly (spoiler alert: it rarely does).

This year my goals are simple, but not easy: 

Serve the quests of others over my own.
True fulfillment comes from supporting others in their quest, even if that means setting aside my own ambitions.

Offer insights and advice, not direction.
The path others take isn’t mine to choose. My role is to illuminate possibilities, not dictate outcomes.

Push beyond my comfort zone and (hopefully) inspire others to do the same.
Growth begins at the edge of what’s familiar. By challenging my own boundaries, I hope to encourage others to stretch theirs as well.

Bring the loaves and fishes—and trust God with the rest.
(h/t to Dallas Jenkins for this beautiful idea) It’s a reminder to offer what I can and trust in someone much greater to amplify my impact.

Warmest wishes for a Happy New Year in 2025!

Photo by BoliviaInteligente on Unsplash