Perspective – Grandpa Bob Encouraging Leadership

The Day We Visited the Taj Mahal and Never Saw It

There are certain destinations in the world that feel larger than life. The Taj Mahal is one of those places. For many travelers, seeing it with their own eyes is a once-in-a-lifetime moment.

We were finally there. We had made it to Agra. All that remained was to step inside the gates and witness the iconic white marble glowing in the sun.

Only one problem.

There was no sun. There was no white marble. There was no Taj Mahal.

There was only fog.

We woke that morning filled with hope. The rooftop restaurant gave us a commanding view of… absolutely nothing. We stared into a wall of haze, sipping coffee and laughing at the absurdity of our timing. Surely the fog would lift. Surely the Taj Mahal would reveal itself.

Our guide, Kuldeep, assured us everything would be fine. He had led more than 500 tours of the Taj Mahal. He knew everything there was to know about its history and its beauty. We boarded our bus, grabbing our special cloth bags with a picture of the Taj printed on them. These were designed to hold the single water bottle we were allowed to bring inside the property. And we set off with excitement.

Fog. All the way there. Fog in the parking lot. Fog at the security lines. Fog as we walked the long approach toward the main viewing area. Each time Kuldeep stopped to point out an “excellent vantage point,” we nodded with wide eyes, imagining the magnificent structure hidden somewhere in the mist.

We took photos pointing at the picture on our water bottle bags. That was the only Taj Mahal available to us from any vantage point.

As we walked toward the building, we eventually reached the outer wall and finally saw something. White marble appeared just a few feet above our heads. Then the stone vanished again into the haze. The grand dome. The sweeping arches. The delicate inlays. All shrouded in fog.

We were standing beside one of the wonders of the world and could only see a sliver of it.

Our group laughed so much that day. Not because we had traveled halfway around the world only to miss the view. We laughed because we were sharing something unforgettable and slightly ridiculous. We were experiencing a story that would last much longer than a postcard-perfect photograph.

Kuldeep shook his head with disbelief. In all his tours, he had never experienced this. He told us we were a very select group of visitors who could claim something few on Earth could say. We visited the Taj Mahal, but we have never actually seen it.

He was right. I still have never seen the Taj Mahal in person.

The destination was never the prize

You might think this would be a disappointment. But when I look back on that trip, the fog made everything richer.

The destination was never the prize. The people were.

We shared meals and conversations and inside jokes. We tried foods that were new to us. We navigated chaos and beauty side by side. We saw India’s contrasts and colors and kindness. We saw devotion expressed in temples and marketplaces. We saw how history and modern life can exist on top of each other without barriers.

The Taj Mahal is extraordinary. I would love to see it someday with clear skies and a rising sun. Yet I already have what I came for.

When I think about all the amazing places I have been blessed to visit, a pattern appears. I never say, “Remember when we saw that famous landmark.” I say things like:

– Remember how we got lost trying to find it?
– Remember the tiny restaurant we discovered afterward?
– Remember the guide who became a friend?
– Remember that amazing gelato place in the middle of nowhere?

I have my memory of that rooftop breakfast. I have the echo of laughter on the bus. I have the photos of my family and friends pointing to a water bottle bag as if it were the crown jewel of Indian architecture.

The world is full of wonders. But relationships are the wonders that stay with us.

The real bucket list

If someday I return to the Taj Mahal and finally see it, I’ll smile and take it in. But I know the picture etched into my heart is already complete. It’s filled with faces and voices and laughter. It has the beauty of our shared experience.

Checklists are fine for airplanes. But our lives deserve something better.

The best adventures can’t be captured by a camera or a perfect view. What lasts are the relationships made stronger by shared surprises, setbacks, and moments of wonder.

This story, fog and all, remains one of my favorites.

Photo by Mark Harpur on Unsplash showing the majestic beauty of the Taj without fog.

The photos below are mine showing what we actually saw. Unfortunately, the amazing water bottle bag photos are stored on a drive I can’t see…a little bit like that morning in Agra more than a decade ago.

Now and Then

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.

Photo by Stephen Crane on Unsplash

Climbing in Times of Change

René Daumal titled his unfinished novel, Mount Analogue. It describes a peak, “whose summit is inaccessible by ordinary means.” The mountain can only be reached through inner transformation, making it both a place and an analogy for our journey of struggle toward resilience and clarity in the fog.

Leadership in upheaval can feel similar. Our map runs out. The ground shifts. We carry only our memories. Some sharp with regret, others shining with joy. Yet even scars can become footholds for our climb.

Daumal wrote, “You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: what is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above.”

The summit gives leaders perspective. From above, we see connections hidden from the valley floor. The shape of the landscape, how the streams converge, where the shadows fall and light breaks through. We descend changed by what we’ve seen, and those who walk beside us are steadied by our vision.

History shows us that change always reshapes our climb. The printing press, the steam engine, electricity, space travel, and global connectivity to name a few. Artificial intelligence is the latest steep slope, bringing fear, excitement, and possibility all at once.

Leaders can steady others by naming the change clearly, framing the opportunities, modeling ways to adapt, and keeping purpose at the center of the change.

Daumal died before finishing his book. It breaks off mid-sentence. A fitting metaphor for leadership. Unfinished, unresolved, always in motion.

Leadership is the willingness to prepare others for the climb, walking faithfully with them, and offering perspective so they can see what’s possible…and dare to tackle the climb themselves.

h/t – James Clear for showing a quote from this book that sent me down the path to learn more about Mount Analogue.

Photo by Caleb Lumingkit on Unsplash

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.

Eyes That Understand – Welcoming our Ninth Grandchild

This week, a new set of eyes entered the world — our ninth grandchild, a baby girl. Her eyes are just beginning their work. They don’t yet see clearly. Like all newborns, her vision starts in soft focus. She sees light, shadows, movement, and faces held close. She knows the warmth of her mother’s arms, the cadence of her father’s voice, and, if I’m lucky, the gentle presence of her grandparents too.

In time, her eyes will begin to sharpen. She’ll see faces from across the room, the toys just out of her reach, her siblings and cousins. Then, the world outside the window. A broader picture will come into her view.

But even as her eyesight expands, her perspective will remain near. She’ll see how things affect her first. Hunger, comfort, joy, frustration. Her world will center on her own experience, as it should for a child learning what it means to be alive.

And then she will grow. With years and love and bumps along the way, she will begin to see more than just herself. She’ll learn to recognize others’ emotions, to feel their joy and pain. Her perspective will widen to include her friends, her extended family, her community. She will see how her actions ripple and impact others, how choices matter not just to her, but to those around her.

As more time passes, she may begin to understand something deeper. That perception is not the same as truth. That others see the same moment, the same memory, from very different angles. She’ll begin to recognize that we all wear lenses shaped by experience, belief, hope, and hurt.

And if she keeps growing, keeps learning, keeps loving, she may even come to understand the beauty in those differences. To act not just from clarity of vision, but from clarity of heart.

Even as her vision someday blurs a bit, may her wisdom sharpen. May she see what matters most. May she understand not only what is, but what could be. May she seek the life-giving fulfilment of a loving life.

And may she, in time, pass on her vision.

What We Learn to See

She was born into light too bright to grasp,
her gaze flickering toward warmth,
held by arms she could not name.

A nose. A smile. A voice that hums,
these are the shapes she first learns to trust.

Her world is inches wide.

Then, little by little,
the room expands.
Familiar faces move,
toys beckon from across the room.

Still, her eyes are mirrors,
reflecting only her own need:
Am I safe? Am I loved?
Does the world answer me?

Time stretches her view. She sees hurt in another’s face.
Joy in someone else’s triumph.
She learns that not all stories are her own.

She learns to ask: How do you see it?
And to listen for an answer.

Mistakes come. Grace follows.
She learns that sight alone isn’t understanding.
That clarity is earned, not given.

Years pass. Vision fades.
But somehow, she sees more than ever,
about herself and the world around her.

What once was blur is now meaning.
What once was noise is now truth.
What once was about her becomes about others.

And in her twilight vision,
she turns to the child,
whose eyes are still new,
and whispers:

Look close, little one,
and then look again.
You’ll stumble, and that’s part of the seeing.
You’ll hurt, and that’s part of the knowing.

Take the vision I’ve earned —
not perfect, but practiced.
Carry it forward,
along with all my love,
and the hopes I hold in my heart for you.

p/c – A photo of our daughters taken almost 30 years ago (!) They’re now passing their love, perspectives, and life lessons to their own children. Happy Mother’s Day!

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 is your favorite quote?

I’m working on an autobiography of sorts. It’s a compilation of my answers to a series of questions. There are about 75 of them that act as prompts. Here are some examples:

Tell me about your childhood home.
What were your school days like?
What was your favorite fashion trend when you were a kid?
How did you meet your spouse?

The idea is that my kids and grandkids and anyone else who’s interested can learn more about my life as they read through my answers to these questions. It’s been a fun project that I’ve been working on over the past 3-4 months.

I just finished answering this question and thought I’d share my answer here:

Can you share a favorite quote or saying of yours?

Life is a journey, not a destination.

I’m not sure who said this first. It’s something I said for years before learning that it was a famous quote from someone else. Turns out there are posters and artwork that you can buy that highlight this quote. Maybe I saw the quote decades ago and it lived in my subconscious mind until later in life.

I don’t have anything against goal setting or visualizing a future and going after it. But it’s important to avoid having tunnel vision in your pursuit of goal achievement since you may miss other opportunities and experiences that introduce themselves along the way.

I’m reminded of a drawing of a stickperson on a ladder. They are locked in on their goal: reaching the top of that ladder before anyone else. This person even jumps over someone and kicks another person off the ladder in their effort to reach the top first. When this person finally reaches the top, they find that the ladder doesn’t actually lead anywhere. Their ladder is standing in the air and not leaning against anything.

The lesson is to make sure the ladder you’re climbing is going somewhere you really want to go.

When you reach your goal, no matter how lofty and difficult it was to achieve, you are merely at a new starting point or more accurately, you’ve made it to one of an infinite number of stops in your life-long journey.

The real goal should be to maximize your enjoyment of the journey itself. To appreciate the small things that happen, the surprises, the diversions, the successes and the failures, the people you meet, and the places you get to experience along the way.

Life is that thing that happens while you’re busy making other plans.

This one is closely related to the first quote. Life is a series of “nows” that are happening in real-time. You can make plans, point yourself in a particular direction, and even tell yourself that you’re in control of all the things that are happening in your life (spoiler alert – you’re not in control of all the things, you only control your response to all the things).

The time to start something new or something that will improve your life is always six months ago. While you’re busy talking about your future, it’s already happening. That thing you’re thinking about doing today but procrastinating while you do more planning will become that thing you should have done six months ago.

Plans are valuable, and you should have a broad plan with some key pillars that you can stand on throughout your life. It’s equally important to avoid hiding behind the planning phases of your life and forgetting to live your life purposely. It turns out that life’s happening anyway, so you might as well live it proactively and not reactively.

These are the good times.

The shortened version of this among friends is, “Good times.” Meaning these are the good times we’ll look back on fondly when we get older. No matter how screwed up something is, or how hard the thing you’re doing right now is, or how much you just failed… all of it will be lumped into your mind and memory as “good times” from your past.

In fact, some of your worst life experiences or life failures might even become the fondest memories you share in the future. You might reflect on how great something was, or how it was good that you had that failure or that heartbreak so you could apply what you learned later in life.

It’s unfortunate that we usually don’t realize this when these things are happening to us in the present.

Blindness and Elephants

The story of the blind men and the elephant originated in India.

The story of the blind men and the elephant originated in India. It then spread across the world and through history in various versions. Here’s the main story line:

Once upon a time, there lived six blind men in a village. One day the villagers told them, “Hey, there is an elephant in the village today.” They had no idea what an elephant was. They decided, “Even though we would not be able to see it, let us go and feel it anyway.”

“Hey, the elephant is a pillar,” said the first man, who touched his leg.

“Oh, no! It’s like a rope,” said the second man, who touched the tail.

“Oh, no! It’s like a thick branch of a tree,” said the third man, who touched the trunk of the elephant.

“It’s like a big hand fan” said the fourth man, who touched the ear of the elephant.

“It’s like a huge wall,” said the fifth man, who touched the belly of the elephant.

“It’s like a solid pipe,” said the sixth man, who touched the tusk of the elephant.

They began to argue about the elephant and each of them insisted that he was right. It looked like they were getting agitated. A wise man was passing by and saw this. He stopped and asked them, “What is the matter?”

They said, “We cannot agree what the elephant is like.” Each one of them told what he thought the elephant was like.

The wise man calmly explained to them, “All of you are right. The reason every one of you is telling it differently is that each of you touched a different part of the elephant.”

What part of the elephant are you holding onto?

Are you willing to listen to the way others describe the elephant?

Are you aware of your blindness?

Defining Semi-Retirement

I’m definitely not retired, although I have let the term, semi-retired, roll around in my head. It seems accurate, for now.

For the first time in nearly 30 years, I’m living the life of a semi-retired person. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but it all began about six weeks ago. That’s when I parted company with my employer after a little over fourteen years of service. I thoroughly enjoyed my time there. I think we were great for each other. I learned a lot, contributed lots of value, helped many people advance in their careers, and enjoyed the fruits of success.

I often counsel people to remember that in any organization, large or small, every day could be your last. Many probably think I’m being a bit dramatic with this advice. While not speaking literally (well, maybe I am), the main message is to be prepared for a sudden exit, either by your choice, or the company’s.

My departure was my choice and the process took a few months. Heeding my own advice, my wife and I were well prepared. We’ve saved and invested (sometimes wisely) for our entire life, lived simply, and recently wrote our last tuition check (a big milestone in any parent’s life).

My friends congratulated me on my early retirement, but I was quick to push back.

I’m definitely not retired, although I have let the term, semi-retired, roll around in my head. It seems accurate, for now. “Semi” opens the door to a world of options, and sets a high bar for what I’ll choose to do in the future.

What’s next? I’m not sure, and I kinda like it like that.

Remembering to Breathe

Nearly all sports are the same (at least on one level).

Nearly all sports are the same (at least on one level). It doesn’t matter if that sport is soccer, baseball, golf, archery, skeet shooting, curling, downhill skiing, long distance running, ice skating, motorcycle racing, or competitive yodeling.

They each start with the same fundamentals:

Relax and stay loose
Calm your mind
Visualize success
Bend your knees
Don’t forget to breathe.

One could make a case that each of these fundamentals are of equal importance, but my money is on the last one. Consciously remembering to breathe puts us in the right state of mind to remember the other fundamentals.

We each face challenges on a daily basis. Some are small, and some are huge (at least from our perspective). Here’s a strategy for tackling each of them:

Relax and stay loose
Calm your mind
Visualize success
Bend your knees
Remember to breathe!

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