Commitment – Grandpa Bob Encouraging Leadership

The Noonday Devil and the Lie of Boredom

Psalm 91 promises safety from dangers both visible and invisible, from “the terror by night” to “the arrow that flieth by day.”

In verse 6, we read: “Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.”

The Desert Fathers, those early Christians who left the cities around the third and fourth centuries to live in the desert, drew on this verse to describe one of their deepest spiritual struggles. They called it the noonday devil.

This devil represents an interior battle, a weariness of the soul that crept in at midday when the sun beat down, the silence grew heavy, and the temptation to abandon their prayer and vocation felt overwhelming.

They named this struggle acedia. Sometimes it’s translated as sloth, but it is much more than that.

How many kids have said to their parents, “I’m bored.” We remind them that boredom is in their heads. They can use their imagination, find a book, or play outside. And if that doesn’t land, we parents always have another cure for their boredom: chores.

It’s amazing how quickly boredom vanishes when a child is handed a rake, a shovel, or a basket of laundry to fold.

Boredom is what happens when we can’t see the meaning in what we’re doing. Acedia is boredom’s older cousin. Spiritual weariness with much deeper stakes.

It’s restlessness, a refusal to care, a loss of joy in the very things that give life meaning. It can show up as distraction or busyness. Acedia tempts us to walk away when the middle of the journey feels too long and too heavy.

I think of the countless days spent inching along in rush-hour traffic, morning after morning, just to get to work. I’d put in a full day’s work, then crawl through another hour or more of brake lights to get home. The next day brought the same routine. After a while, it was easy to think maybe the whole thing had no meaning.

That’s the noonday devil at work.

The midpoints of life test us in a similar way. Paying bills, the daily grind of a career without clear progress, responsibilities that seem to grow heavier without much relief. Our internal voice asks, “How can I escape? Should I look for something easier?”

Jean-Charles Nault’s The Noonday Devil: Acedia, the Unnamed Evil of Our Times says this ancient struggle is alive and well today. It shows up in constant scrolling, in working ourselves to exhaustion to avoid deeper questions, in chasing novelty because the present moment feels too heavy.

The Desert Fathers found the answer was to persevere through, but with far more than sheer willpower. Keep praying, even when prayer feels dry. Stay faithful to commitments, even when they feel heavy. Lean into your community rather than isolating from it. Practice humility and remember that perseverance is possible only by God’s grace.

What does this look like? When we feel the pull toward endless scrolling, we might instead text a friend or call a family member. When work feels meaningless, we can remember the people our efforts serve, even if indirectly. When prayer feels empty, we show up anyway, trusting that faithfulness itself has value beyond our feelings in the moment.

The noonday devil tempts us to think that only extraordinary lives matter. But as Oliver Burkeman points out in his idea of “cosmic insignificance therapy,” recognizing our smallness frees us to find profound meaning in ordinary acts.

The daily work of caring for children, preparing meals, or showing up for neighbors and friends carries as much weight as anything could. These acts may never make headlines, but in God’s eyes they shine with eternal value.

Persevering in small, steady commitments resists acedia and helps us discover joy in the very places where meaning often hides.

Psalm 91 carries a promise, “He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust.”

God invites us to rest beneath His wings, to trust Him in the heat of the day, and to discover joy at the very heart of our journey.

Faithfulness in the ordinary is never wasted. Under His wings, even the smallest acts take on eternal meaning.

h/t – Hallow app – Noonday Devil; Tim Ferris – Oliver Burkeman’s Cosmic Insignificance Therapy

Photo by Mauro Lima on Unsplash

Pausing at the Halfway Mark

July 2nd is about a week away. That will be the 183^rd day of the year. The halfway point.

I usually think of the summer solstice as the halfway point since the days start getting shorter after that.

Either way, it’s a good time to reflect.

Think back to January. Back then, you were probably wondering how to shed a few of those extra pounds you gained over the previous two weeks.

While sipping your leftover peppermint cocoa on New Year’s Day, what goals or intentions were on your mind? Did you write them down? Did you share them with anyone?

Be honest with yourself. What have you done that moves you closer to achieving any of the goals you set six months ago? Even small steps count.

Do those goals still matter to you? Have you added new goals since then?

Whatever your answers, write them down. Pick one thing to act on this week to get back on track. Movement builds momentum, and maintaining momentum is the key to achieving any goal.

Don’t forget to celebrate. A new productive habit. A relationship strengthened. A busy season endured (every industry seems to have one).

These quiet victories matter. They deserve your recognition.

Halfway through the year, the invitation is simple. Reflect. Realign.

Begin again.

Side note: Consider doing this exercise with an even larger time horizon.

-What were your goals 10 years ago? 20 years ago?

-Are those goals still important to you?

-Have you made progress on any of them?

-What are your goals for the next 10 years? 20 years?

-What concrete steps will you decide to take over the next 6 months to make progress on at least one of your 10-year goals?

Photo by Elliot Pannaman on Unsplash – why this image out of the thousands I could have chosen from Unsplash? My focus wasn’t on the stark, still, wintry vibe (although that’s nice). I was captured by the story it conveys. In my imagination, this person set out to cross the entire lake. Clearly, their chosen path wasn’t successful. Poor planning? Lack of vision? Who knows?

But the halfway point is a moment like this. A pause at the edge, where we get to decide if our goal still matters. If it does, it’s time to retrace, replan, and re-commit to accomplishing what we set out to achieve.

Commitment Leads to Fulfillment

Zig Ziglar once said, “It was character that got us out of bed, commitment that moved us into action, and discipline that enabled us to follow through.”

This perfectly describes the driver of true achievement. It’s not just the initial desire or excitement that propel us, but the dedication to stick with something until the end.

I accidentally saw this idea come to life during a recent road trip. I stopped by a taco shop. It happened to be near a beach and was clearly a popular local destination. The tacos were excellent, but that’s not the point of this story.

As I sat on the patio eating my carnitas tacos and enjoying the view, I couldn’t help overhearing a conversation at the table that less than two feet away. Two early-twenties (by my estimation) men were talking about how amazing the surfing had been earlier that morning.

I got from the conversation that they had been surfing together since they were teenagers and this morning’s session was a long-overdue reunion of sorts since they hadn’t surfed together in quite some time.

One of them made a comment that stuck with me: “Surfing is the only time I’m really alive. I know what I’m doing and can feel the water telling me what to do. I wish I could get that kind of fulfillment out of the rest of my life. I feel like I’m just wandering around, waiting until I can surf again.”

It wasn’t long before his friend responded, “I know what you mean. I’ve had to settle down these past couple of years. I got a dog, and it’s been a lot of responsibility, but he’s amazing. He loves the beach, so I take him there as often as I can.”

Then came the real kicker. The first guy, the “wandering” one, responded, “Maybe that’s something I should do. I can’t get motivated at work and just want to quit. Maybe getting a dog would help me commit to the work.”

He used an extremely important word—commit. It was evident these two men are deeply committed to surfing. It’s their passion, and it gives them a sense of fulfillment that’s absent in other areas of their lives. Surfing isn’t something they merely do—it is something they live for. But beyond surfing, they lack the same kind of dedication. Their passion for the sport brings them joy because they are fully invested in it, heart and soul.

The wandering friend’s dilemma isn’t uncommon. Many people struggle with finding motivation in their daily lives. They haven’t truly committed to something that extends beyond their comfort zone or personal hobbies. They desire fulfillment without realizing that commitment is often their missing link.

It was as though this young man had stumbled upon the key to unlocking motivation and purpose: he needed to commit. Whether it is work, relationships, or another area of his life, the power to find meaning and fulfillment can only come from his willingness to fully invest in something.

Goethe once said, “At the moment of commitment, the entire universe conspires to assist you.” This idea aligns with the realization that real fulfillment only comes from investing fully in what we do. When we are all in, we aren’t just going through the motions—we are owning the process, taking charge of the outcome, and continually working toward our goals.

The wandering surfer may never have thought about his job as something worth committing to. To him, it was just a means to an end, something he had to do so he could afford to spend time doing what he really wanted—to surf. But if he can shift his mindset and fully invest in his work with the same passion and dedication he gives to surfing, the fulfillment he seeks might not seem so elusive.

Fulfillment doesn’t come from merely reaching a goal or winning a trophy. As Cardinal Pell put it, “Commitment to a worthwhile goal brings fulfillment and meaning, even if the path is difficult.” The true joy and deep sense of satisfaction come from the commitment itself—the effort, discipline, and perseverance that drive us toward our goal.

If you’re handed a trophy without having worked for it, it’s meaningless. You know deep down that you didn’t earn it, didn’t push through the challenges, didn’t grow in the process. But if you earn that trophy through your own hard work and dedication, it’s a symbol of something far greater than the achievement—it’s proof of your commitment.

In the end, what we commit to is what brings meaning to our lives. Whether it’s our relationships, our careers, or even something as personal as surfing, the act of giving our all, of pushing through the hard times, is what fills us with a sense of purpose.

The wandering surfer wasn’t lost because he lacked passion; he was lost because he hadn’t fully committed to anything beyond the waves.

To truly live a fulfilling life, we must commit wholeheartedly. When we do, we’ll find that the truest sense of fulfillment comes from the dedication and growth that only commitment can bring.

Photo by Blake Hunter on Unsplash

Writing the Check – the best piece of advice I’ve ever received

I’ve received (and read) lots of advice in my lifetime. I’ve even had an opportunity to give advice to others.

The most valuable piece of advice I’ve received was from my dear friend, Jay Scott, around 1991 or 1992 (paraphrasing):

“Mr. Dailey (we refer to each other formally, of course), everything in life comes down to writing a check. You want a new car? Write a check. You want to learn a new skill? Write a check. You want to add something nice to your house? Write a check. You’re either going to write the check or not. All the rest is just detail.”

When he said it, I didn’t think much of it. It sounded like a flippant observation that oversimplified life’s choices.

As I’ve lived my life and encountered tons of situations, opportunities, and decisions, I’ve come to realize the genius in his observation.

The check may be money…the literal meaning of the word “check.” Sometimes the check is the decision to invest something of your own personal value into an idea, an object, or a cause. The check becomes a commitment of your finite time and energy…and maybe your money.

The idea that all the rest is just detail reinforces the notion that while we may elaborate on our decisions with lengthy justifications or stories, at the core, it’s about that decisive moment of commitment.

I’ve found that most of the time I have my decision made about something within a minute of considering my alternatives (whatever they may be). Whether I act immediately on that decision (write the check) or wait some undetermined time period (sometimes years) is another matter.

I’ve applied this fundamental knowledge about humans and their check-writing decisions many times. If my boss says that he supports an idea or strategy, I try to get him to “write the check” about that support as quickly as possible. It’s easy to support an idea in the abstract or tell your employee that you support him or her. It’s something entirely different to then act on that support by “writing the check.”

If the boss (or anyone for that matter) talks about how they believe in something or they support something, if they’re not willing to write the check for it, you know they’re just telling a story. Only when they commit their check (money, time, reputation, etc.) to something are they truly supporting it. Another phrase, “having skin in the game” applies here. No skin in the game, no commitment.

It all comes down to writing the check.

p/c – Tommy Lisbin – Unsplash Why? This climber has written the check(s) and is fully committed to this task. And, the goal is in sight.