The days feel long, but our years disappear. I’ve been thinking about how easily “someday” turns into “back then.” We spend so much of life working toward what’s next that we sometimes forget we’re already living the moments we’ll one day remember with gratitude.
This truth reaches us at every age. Whether we shape our future with intention or let it unfold on its own, it arrives and quietly invites us to participate. This reflection is about the sweetness of now and noticing that these moments become the story we’re creating together.
Each day arrives on its own, small and full of potential. It doesn’t ask for much. Only our attention, our care, and our willingness to be here. The hours move like honey, slow and golden, rich with sweetness if we take time to notice. Yet the years rush by quietly. One morning we look up and realize the future we worked toward has become the past we cherish.
What we dreamed about for so long is happening now. This day, with its imperfections, interruptions, and small joys, is the life we once hoped to reach. It’s the tomorrow we imagined, already unfolding beneath our feet.
Time helps us see backward with gratitude and forward with wonder. We remember the faces and laughter that have softened into memory. We hold them gently, realizing how meaning hides in ordinary moments.
Each day is a life of its own. Complete, sacred, and fleeting. When we let its minutes open slowly, like sunlight through leaves, we find gratitude sweetening everything it touches. Our wonder grows in quiet places.
“Then” is always born of “now.” When we live this moment with attention, kindness, and a sense of awe, it never really fades. It simply changes shape, becoming the stories we tell, the lessons we pass along, and the love that lingers long after the moment has gone.
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:
Family is the greatest treasure. I’ve learned this from countless dinners, phone calls, and quiet moments of simply being together.
Love grows when you give it away.
Small kindnesses matter more than big speeches. Holding a door, writing a note, or showing up means more than most people will admit.
A campfire has a way of pulling people closer. Some of our best conversations happened with smoke in our face and stars overhead.
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.
Listening is often better than speaking.
Start, even if you don’t know the finish line.
Forgiveness frees the forgiver.
Work hard, but not so hard you miss the laughter at the dinner table. That laughter is life fuel.
Friendships need tending like gardens.
A calm mind shapes a calm day. How you manage your thoughts sets the tone for how you live, not just how you lead.
Prayer steadies shaky ground.
Scars are inevitable but can become footholds.
Your children and grandchildren remember the times you kept your word. Integrity is how love earns trust over a lifetime.
Music can heal a weary spirit.
Laughter with grandchildren is holy ground. Even the silliest joke can create amazing memories.
Take pictures but also put your phone down.
The best conversations happen unplanned, often on the way to somewhere else.
God shows up in ordinary moments.
Start with what you have, not what you lack.
Be quick to encourage. A word of encouragement can feel like oxygen to someone gasping for air.
Time with your spouse is the best investment you’ll ever make.
A sunrise reminds us the story isn’t over.
Be generous with money, with time, and with grace.
Don’t underestimate a good meal shared…even a bad meal shared.
Patience is a form of love.
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.
Children teach us as much as we teach them.
A soft answer turns away wrath.
Slow down for sunsets.
Stay curious, even at 59.
Hold babies gently, but often.
Let go of what you can’t control.
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.
Coffee or a meal with a friend beats any meeting.
Rest is productive.
Gratitude doesn’t just brighten the day. It multiplies joy in ways you can’t measure. It shifts ordinary moments into holy ones.
The journey matters more than the finish line.
Never be too proud to say, “I was wrong.” Or “I don’t know.”
Faith isn’t about knowing all the answers.
Celebrate progress, not perfection.
Trails are better with company. I’ve seen some of the deepest conversations unfold at mile three.
Be the first to say “thank you.”
Find work you believe in, but don’t let it define you.
Love is the legacy worth leaving.
Don’t compare. Contentment is wealth.
Your words can build or break. Choose to build. Always.
A long hug can mend a broken heart. I’ve felt that healing in the arms of family.
Keep learning, keep growing. Continuous improvement matters. Even the smallest step forward is still forward.
Tradition ties generations together, especially if that tradition involves an old family recipe that takes hours and lots of teamwork to make.
Tell stories. Your family needs them. Stories pass down more than facts. They carry history and identity.
Choose wonder over cynicism.
You can’t outgive God, but you can follow His example.
Every season has its beauty. Even Oklahoma summers with their heat and humidity have sunsets worth pausing for (clearly I appreciate sunrises and sunsets).
Be present. Tomorrow isn’t promised.
Family trust is sacred. Break it once, and it may never return the same. Protect it as carefully as you protect your home.
Celebrate the small wins. A child’s smile, a project finished, or a quiet evening with family. Cherish these moments.
Joy often hides in the small, ordinary things.
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)
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.
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.
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.
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.
The other night, over a casual taco dinner, one of my grandkids hit me with a question I wasn’t expecting.
“Grandpa, how old will you be in the year 2100?”
Without missing a beat, I shot back, “Nearly 140. Way too old to still be around!”
I may have been off by a few years, but we all agreed: the odds are stacked against me making it to 2100.
Then we started doing the math together, and that’s where things got interesting. They’ll be in their 90s by then. Their children and grandchildren—my great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren—will be alive and thriving in that future world. A reminder that we’re part of something much bigger. Connected to the past, but carried forward by those who will come long after we’ve gone.
“Okay, but how old will you be in 2050?”
That one felt closer, more real. “Well,” I said, “not quite 90, but almost. And you’ll be under 50.”
“What will we be doing in 2050, Grandpa?”
That’s a question only they can answer. I won’t pretend to know. I hope I’m there for at least part of it. I hope I get to laugh with them, to listen, to remind them where they came from, and to cheer them on wherever they’re headed.
Our conversation turned into something more than tacos and timelines. We started talking about how every generation builds on what came before. We carry what we’ve learned from our parents and grandparents, along with our own experiences, and hand all of that to our children and grandchildren. And they, in turn, will do the same.
Their children, my great-grandchildren, aren’t here yet, but I already have high hopes for them. I look forward to holding them, hearing their stories, and watching them discover the world just as their parents are starting to do today.
I hope they’ll learn the big things:
-How a starry sky can quiet our soul.
-How to throw and catch with confidence (it’s baseball season, so this one is top of mind right now).
-How warm and magical a campfire can be…and that S’mores taste better when your hands are sticky.
-How good it feels to help without being asked.
-How to sit quietly with someone we love and say nothing at all.
-How to cheer for someone else, even when the spotlight isn’t ours.
-The peace that comes from a walk in the woods or along a sandy shore.
But I also know they’ll learn things I’ll never understand. Things I can’t even imagine. And that’s exactly as it should be.
My deepest hope is that they’ll carry forward the timeless lessons. That love matters more than being right. That kindness isn’t weakness. That telling the truth is not only brave, but also the only way.
And that family stories are worth retelling…especially the funny ones.
So, here’s to future taco dinners, to great-grandkids I haven’t met, and to the storytellers of tomorrow.
May they keep the best of us within them always.
A Poem for My Grandkids
We sat with tacos, our chips in hand, When you asked a question I hadn’t planned. “Grandpa, will you still be here in 2100?” “Not likely,” I laughed, “I’d be too old by then.”
And then we wondered who’ll be around, Your kids and theirs, with dreams unbound. Building a world we won’t see, Carrying forward the best from you and from me.
We talked of shooting stars and catching balls, Of S’mores by the fire and the night’s gentle call. Of helping for nothing, of walking alone, And learning to love with a heart fully grown.
You’ll learn things I’ll never know, With gadgets and wonders I can’t imagine. Even so, I hope what we’ve lived still finds its place, In stories you tell with a smile on your face.
Here’s to the moments that grow into more, To questions and memories, and tales we explore. May love be your guide in all that you do, And may our stories stay with you, and echo on through time.
p/c – That’s Charlie (in the cowboy hat) and Marcus from a few years ago, perfecting their marshmallow roasting techniques.
Sadness can find us with little or no effort…sometimes on a daily basis.
I see trees of green, red roses too. I see them bloom, for me and you. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.
Sadness, defined as anything that’s the opposite of joy:
Emotional pain
Feelings of disadvantage
Loss
Despair
Grief
Anger
Helplessness
Disappointment
Sorrow
Frustration
Guilt
I see skies of blue,
And clouds of white.
The bright blessed day,
The dark sacred night.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world
Oddly, we sometimes seek out sadness for our own purposes. Maybe we need an excuse for not being the person we know we can be. Maybe we find comfort in burdening others with our pain.
The colors of the rainbow,
So pretty in the sky.
Are also on the faces,
Of people going by,
I see friends shaking hands.
Saying, “How do you do?”
They’re really saying,
“I love you”.
When sadness in its many forms pays a visit, we have two fundamental questions to ask ourselves:
What will we allow inside?
How long will we allow it to stay?
It’s easy to say that we get to decide. That doesn’t mean it’s easy to kick sadness out once it arrives for a visit.
I hear babies cry,
I watch them grow,
They’ll learn much more,
Than I’ll ever know.
What to do? Here’s a list that I have to remind myself of from time to time:
Tune your mind to find joy in the simple things
Seek out and cherish love in your life
Offer forgiveness to yourself and others
Share your time and attention with others
Seek opportunities to serve others first
Observe life with a sense of awe and gratitude.
Joy won’t find us the way sadness can. Joy only shows itself when we take action to greet it warmly with open arms and outstretched hands.
With the advent of the internet, and then smartphones, we’re able to access the outside world on-demand from just about anywhere. The flipside is that the outside world can access each of us just as easily.
Friends and colleagues can send us an email or text at any time. They can use a selection of apps to “ping” us from across the world with information, photos, articles, or project status updates.
And, although rare these days, people can even call us on our smartphone…trust me, it still happens.
In all these instances, the expectation is that we’ll be fully accessible, and ready to respond immediately to any and all issues, questions, or opportunities that come our way.
An immediate-response, immediate-judgment, immediate-decision-making model of interaction is the new norm. We train our brains to quickly scan complex situations with the goal of rendering snap decisions that we can provide as part of our response(s).
There’s just one problem: creating this speedy-response capability eliminates the one thing that many decisions (especially complex and long-term decisions) require: TIME
Time and space are exactly what we need to make our most effective decisions.
Time to absorb information at our own pace.
Time to immerse ourselves in a new situation before being forced to judge it or make decisions about it.
Consider the person who gets a new job. This new job is going to be amazing. It’s what they want to do, and it pays a lot more than their last job.
It’s normal to visualize all the ways to be successful in the new job. It’s normal to think of how to spend the new-found money.
It’s also normal that once the work starts, the new job won’t be as amazing as it seemed. After the first week, the job and the people at the new job may seem like a nightmare.
Or, the new job is as amazing as it appeared and the people are awesome. But the work is highly technical and challenging. Doubts can creep in about whether it’s a good skill set fit.
The truth is, in the first week (even the first month) of new things like jobs, relationships, or workout routines, we don’t know enough to judge. We may think we know. We don’t.
This is where the power of the “90-Day Rule” shows itself. What is the 90-Day Rule? It’s something I made up that says for the next 90 days, I’ll immerse myself in the new thing (job, workout routine, etc.) without any preconceived judgment, without any pressure to decide, and without any thoughts about alternatives.
If I’ve decided to do this new thing (after days, weeks, months, sometimes years of contemplation), I’m going to give it at least 90 days before judging it.
In the new job example, consider how freeing a 90-day moratorium on judgment will be. You’re not judging the new people. You’re not judging the new company. You’re not judging your ability to perform in the new job. You’re not even judging the commute.
No judgments means you can focus on what it takes to be as successful as possible in the new job. All the energy you would have focused on making judgments and other distracting decisions is channeled fully into the most valuable tasks.
What about all that new money you’re earning at this new job? What if you give yourself 90 days before spending it on all that new stuff? Have a nice dinner to celebrate the start, and then wait 90 days. You’ll have plenty of time to spend all this new money on the 91st day. What’s your hurry?
When was the last time you gave anything 90 minutes before passing judgment? It’s time to give important decisions at least 90 days before passing judgment.
You’ve decided on this course of action. Let it play out. Give it room. Let it breathe. See where it goes.
Each organization (each person), has their own definition for these words.
How your organization defines these words says a lot about its culture.
Does urgent mean before lunch today, sometime later today, or just this week?
How about immediately? Before noon? Today? This minute? Now?
How is now defined? At this moment? Sometime today? Is the customer on the phone now, waiting for our answer?
How soon is this due? Soon? Is that this week, next week? Next quarter? Or is soon the word your manager uses for a non-specific point in the future when something good is supposed to happen…but rarely does?
Quick, tell me how your department defines quick. Is quick the same as now? Is it the word someone uses to interrupt your train of thought so you can answer their question…usually preceded by the word “really” as in, “really quick, can you tell me the cost code for that department?”
We’d all like a timely response to our inquiry. Is that now, next week, next month, or next quarter? Isn’t timely the thing we say when we’re trying to be official with someone…sort of channeling our “inner lawyer,” to give ourselves a bit more time?
Consider how the definitions change, depending on the time of year. Are we approaching the end of the month, the quarter, or the year? Are we on track to hit our goals (whatever they are)?
Is the boss stopping by today? This week? If so, does that create a new definition for soon, or urgent?
These words define the rhythm, even the “musical” timing of an organization. Find yourself out of step with that rhythm and you’ll be making noise instead of music.
You might move faster than your organization. This is great at first but generally leads to frustration as you wait for the organization to catch up with you. Imagine if soon means within 30 days to you, but the same word means sometime next year to your organization.
On the other hand, the organization may move at a faster pace than you prefer. Everything is urgent and immediate. You feel like you’re behind all the time, barely able to catch your breath.
In these situations, you have a challenge (and an opportunity):
convince the organization to move at your pace, or
modify your pace to match the organization, or
find an organization that already moves at your preferred pace.
Easy, right?
As impossible as this challenge sounds, time alignment is critical to your long-term job satisfaction.
The question is: Are you making noise or music?
The answer lies in aligning your definition of time.
If you live to the end of your 90th year, you will have lived 2,838,240,000 seconds…
I heard the term, Time Billionaire, a few weeks ago on the Tim Ferris Podcast (which I highly recommend, by the way).
There are 31,500,000 seconds in a year.
If you live to the end of your 90th year, you will have lived 2,838,240,000 seconds.
Each of us is a time billionaire. We have billions of seconds at our disposal.
To date, I’ve used about 1.67 billion of my seconds. If I’ve slept for a third of my life (wouldn’t 8 hours per night be nice?), I’ve been awake and actively (?) living for 1.1 billion seconds. I have roughly 770 million more active seconds remaining (if I live to be 90).
How many billions of seconds have you used? How many do you have left?
It’s easy to answer the first question, impossible to answer the second one.
One thing is certain. If you’re reading this post, you’ve already used billions of your seconds, and you probably have millions more.
The most important question is: What do you want to do with your remaining seconds?
We decide how we use our seconds (even when we choose not to decide, or let someone else decide for us).
None of us gets a second helping of seconds. It’s worth investing some valuable seconds to consider what to do with the rest of our seconds before they’re gone.
A roof appears on a newly-constructed home only after the gradual process of building the foundation and walls first.
A child “suddenly” learns to walk only after they’ve gradually learned how to roll over, sit up, military crawl, real crawl, stand next to furniture, and finally take their first awkward steps.
A pitcher makes it to “the show” after working nearly every day of his life.
That amazing motivational speaker you saw this morning got amazing by speaking to hundreds of audiences over the past five years. Truth be told, she probably wasn’t amazing five years ago, but now she is.
The raging river you’re rafting down began its journey as a few drops of melted snow and built from there.
That guy in the gym who knocks out 50 pushups between weightlifting sets got there by doing one pushup at a time, thousands of times…when nobody was watching.
Even when we see the results of graduality all around us, it’s easy to miss.
Make no mistake. Graduality is one of the most powerful forces in the universe.
But it carries a price few are willing to pay: self-discipline and self-belief. The discipline to work tirelessly, and the undying belief that you’re doing the right thing.
What future do you want for yourself?
Do you believe in that future? Do you have the discipline to work for it every day? If so, the power of graduality is there for you.
The good news is that when you harness graduality the right way, your destination becomes much less important than the journey itself.
“Winners embrace hard work. They love the discipline of it, the trade-off they’re making to win. Losers, on the other hand, see it as punishment. And that’s the difference.” –Lou Holtz
Personal note: Something I’ve worked on gradually for nearly six years is writing blog posts like this one. This is my 220th post. While I’m proud of this achievement, I enjoy the journey of writing them much more than the realization that I’ve amassed so many.
I’d love to hear what you’re gradually working to achieve. Let me know in the comments.
Grandpa Bob Encouraging Leadership 
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