Every now and then, I think about people who are no longer here and ask myself what they left with me. A lesson. A phrase. A moment I still can’t fully explain.
Mr. McNally left me a question.
He was teaching us about entropy in his AP Chemistry class and asked why the air in a bicycle tire doesn’t simply settle to the bottom.
Air has weight. Gravity acts on it. So why doesn’t all the air sink to the lowest part of the tire like a pile of sand? Why does it keep pressing outward against the walls?
It’s a simple image, which is probably why I still remember it almost fifty years later.
The air inside the tire is made up of tiny particles moving rapidly in every direction. They collide with each other, and with the inside wall of the tire. Those collisions create pressure.
Gravity is present but its pull is weak compared to the thermal energy of all those molecules.
The air fills the space it’s given. It presses outward. It resists settling.
That old chemistry question came back to me recently as a life question.
What keeps us from settling? From succumbing to the gravitational pull in all of us.
Staying where life feels familiar. Waiting for more certainty. Keeping the pattern because changing it will cost us something.
Waiting sounds reasonable. It borrows the language of patience, prudence, and practicality. And at times, those are the right virtues. Wisdom often tells us to slow down.
But inertia can dress itself up as wisdom. Fear can call itself realism. Comfort can pretend to be peace.
That’s when we begin settling to the bottom of our lives.
The air doesn’t fulfill its purpose by collecting in the lowest place. It fills the available space. It presses against the walls. It creates pressure because motion is still happening inside.
Human life has its own version of that energy.
Purpose. Discipline. Faith.
These keep us from sinking into the lowest-energy version of ourselves.
The tire reminds us that pressure comes from movement. A life with purpose has an outward push to it. It presses against fear, complacency, and inertia. It expands into the space it has been given.
We don’t have to be reckless or maintain constant motion. But we need enough internal purpose to overcome the quiet pull of our internal gravity.
I’m grateful Mr. McNally asked that question all those years ago. At the time, it was a chemistry lesson about entropy, motion, and pressure.
Decades later, it’s still teaching me.
The tire doesn’t fight gravity. It just has something inside it that never stops moving.
I think that’s all any of us can ask of ourselves.
Our oldest grandson turned 13 this week. In honor of this auspicious occasion, here’s some advice from a grandpa’s perspective…
Turning 13 feels important because it is.
You’re not a little kid anymore, but you’re not grown either. You’re standing in that in-between place where life starts opening up in new ways. You begin to think more for yourself. You start noticing the world differently. You begin asking bigger questions.
Who am I? What am I good at? What do I want to do with my life?
All excellent questions, and you don’t need perfect answers yet. In fact, you’ll ask the same questions at 18, at 25, at 40, and again at 60. Life keeps moving and we keep growing. The answer you give today isn’t supposed to be your final answer.
So don’t panic if you don’t know exactly what you want to do with your life. Most people don’t.
Having your whole future mapped out right now isn’t the priority. Becoming the person who can handle that future is.
Hold on to your integrity.
Tell the truth. Keep your word. Do the right thing, especially when there’s nothing in it for you. That last part matters more than most people realize. It’s easy to do the right thing when someone’s keeping score. The real test is what you do when no one is.
Don’t trade your character for attention, approval, popularity, or convenience. A lot can be rebuilt in life. Trust is hard to rebuild once you break it.
Stay close to God.
You won’t understand everything all at once. Nobody does. But keep your heart turned toward Him. Pray. Ask for wisdom. Pay attention. Learn to trust that there’s more going on in life than whatever feels big in the moment. Your faith will steady you when your feelings don’t. It’ll remind you who you are when the world tries to define you by something smaller.
Stay in a service mindset.
Look beyond yourself. Learn to help. Learn to notice when someone needs encouragement. Learn to carry your share. Learn to be useful. Be someone people can count on.
A life built only around what do I want gets very small in a hurry. A life that asks how can I help or how can I add value grows deeper and more meaningful. You’ll find a lot of what matters in life while serving, building, learning, and staying faithful in ordinary things.
Work with everything you have, even when no one is watching.
Somewhere along the way our culture started treating hard work as just a means to an end, something we do to get paid or get ahead. But there’s a much older and better way to think about it.
Quality work builds character. It builds discipline. It builds something larger than the task in front of you. Every time you give full effort to something ordinary, you’re quietly shaping the excellent person you can be. That adds up in ways that are hard to see at 13 but impossible to miss at 30.
Half-effort becomes a habit just as easily as full effort does. The habits you build at 13, 14, and 15 will be the ones carrying you at 25 and 35.
Don’t wait for someone to be watching before you give your best. Work hard at school. Work hard at home. Learn to finish what you start. Learn to be corrected without falling apart. Learn to keep showing up even when it’s hard and nobody’s clapping.
None of this sounds flashy because it isn’t. A lot of what makes a strong life is built quietly.
You’ll fail at things. Do it anyway.
At some point, you’re going to try hard at something and still come up short. You’ll miss the cut. You’ll bomb a test you studied for. You’ll lose a game that matters. You’ll say something wrong at the worst moment. That’s part of being alive and actually trying. It says nothing about whether you’re good enough.
What happens after you fail is the part that defines you. You can let it pull you back, make you more careful, more afraid to try. Or you can let it teach you something and keep going.
Most of the people worth looking up to in life have a longer list of failures than you’d expect. They just didn’t stop.
Don’t be so afraid of failing that you stop reaching. And when you do fail, get back up, figure out what you can learn from it, and go again.
Don’t compare yourself to everyone else.
You’ll be tempted to measure your life against what everyone else seems to have, seem to be, or seems to be doing.
Comparison is a thief. It steals your happiness. It distracts your focus from your own path and wastes your attention on someone else’s highlight reel. The person you’re comparing yourself to is probably doing the same thing in a different direction.
Run your own race. You’re not behind. You’re not ahead. You’re exactly where you should be. The question isn’t why do they have what I don’t. It’s what am I going to do with what I’ve been given.
Stop assuming the world is against you.
This one is worth learning early so you don’t waste years that could have been spent building. When things go wrong, and they will, your first instinct will be to look for someone to blame. A teacher. A coach. An umpire. A parent. Your boss. The system. Sometimes that blame might even be partly true.
None of that matters. You don’t control what other people do. You control what you do. The moment you decide that your success or failure is mostly someone else’s responsibility, you hand over the most powerful thing you have. Your own effort and your own choices.
Work on what you can control. Improve your attitude. Improve your skills. Improve your effort. Stop waiting for circumstances to be fair before you try. Life isn’t always fair. The people who accomplish things don’t wait for it to be.
About your parents.
They really do want what’s best for you. That may be hard to believe sometimes. They won’t always explain things perfectly or get every decision right. They’re human, just like you. Beyond the rules, the questions, the concern, and the occasional frustration is something very simple. They want you to have a good life.
Try to remember that when you feel misunderstood. Talk to them. Listen to them. Let them help you.
And one day, if life takes you far away geographically, stay connected. Call home. Answer texts. Show up when you can. These relationships are worth more than most people realize when they’re young.
About your brothers and sisters.
Yes, they may annoy you. Yes, they may know exactly how to push your buttons. That’s part of the deal. But they’re also part of the very small group of people who know your whole story, where you came from, and what you’ve been through. They know parts of you the rest of the world never sees.
Be there for them. Don’t let small things turn into long separations. Give grace. Stay loyal. Repair things when you can. A strong family is one of life’s great blessings. Don’t treat it casually.
Pay attention to who you spend your time with.
We tend to become a version of the people we’re closest to. Not instantly, and not completely, but over time the people around us shape how we think, what we tolerate, what we aim for, and the person we grow into. Look at the five or ten people you spend the most time with and you’ll get a pretty honest picture of the direction you’re heading.
That doesn’t mean you have to be cold or calculating about friendship. But you should choose your close friends carefully. Find people who are honest with you, who push you to be better, who you actually respect. Be the kind of friend who does the same for them. And if you find yourself around people who consistently pull you toward things you know aren’t right, it’s okay to create some distance. Let them go. That’s not disloyalty. That’s wisdom.
Your words have more weight than you realize.
What you say about people, how you say it, and what you say behind their backs follows you longer than you’d think. At your age, a lot of the cruelty that happens between people happens through words. It often feels small in the moment, like just joking around or venting. But words land hard, and sometimes they leave marks that last a long time.
Be someone known for building people up more than tearing them down. Speak honestly but speak with care. Don’t traffic in gossip. Don’t pile on when someone’s already down. You won’t always get this right, but making it a habit to think before you speak is one of the best habits you can build right now.
Take care of your body. It affects everything else.
We only get one body. Take care of it as if your life depends on it (because it does).
This doesn’t need to be complicated. Sleep matters more than most teenagers believe it does. What you eat affects how you feel and how clearly you think.
Regular exercise probably isn’t a challenge at your age. But as you get older and take on more responsibilities, making this a priority will be difficult. Moving your body regularly, whether that’s a sport, working out, or just staying active, will serve you well for decades to come.
You’re building habits right now that will follow you into adulthood. The kids who learn to get enough sleep, stay reasonably active, and not wreck themselves with junk will have a real advantage over the ones who don’t. That gap grows over time.
Your body is going to carry you through a long life. Treat it accordingly.
One more thing.
You don’t need to impress everybody. You don’t need to look older than you are. You don’t need to rush into every version of growing up just because the world makes it look cool.
There’s no prize for becoming cynical early. There’s no prize for being hardened before your time.
Real strength tells the truth. Real strength keeps going. Real strength is teachable. Real strength can laugh, can apologize, can be trusted.
You don’t need to become everything right now. You just need to keep growing, one good choice at a time, one hard thing faced instead of avoided. One day at a time.
And when you don’t know exactly what comes next, go back to the basics. Stay honest. Stay close to God. Love your family. Help where you can. Work hard. Keep learning.
This path may not answer every question immediately, but it’ll keep carrying you toward a life that means something.
Some goals are big enough to carry us for a long time.
They lift our eyes. They fill ordinary days with meaning, connecting our work to something larger than the moment in front of us.
That vision matters.
It gives shape to sacrifice. It helps us endure hard things because we can see where we’re trying to go.
But big goals have a way of becoming heavy.
Sometimes the distance feels too great. The work takes too long. The gap between where we are and where we want to be can leave us discouraged before we’ve gone very far at all.
That’s when it helps to bring the goal down to just the next step. The next mile. The next call. The next page. The next hour of honest work.
We don’t accomplish great things all at once. We get there by doing the next thing that needs doing.
The small task gives us traction. It pulls us out of vague ambition and back into motion.
But this has its own challenge.
Sometimes the next step feels too small. Repetitive. Disconnected. We can lose heart in the middle of faithful effort simply because the work in front of us seems too ordinary or meaningless.
That’s when we need to lift our eyes again. Remember why we started. Who this serves. The person we’re trying to become.
Focusing only on the big vision, we risk becoming dreamers who admire the mountain and never climb it. Living only in the next task, we can become people who just keep moving and slowly forget why.
Our strength comes from learning to move between the two.
When the goal feels too big, narrow the focus. When the next step feels too small, widen the focus.
The vision gives meaning. The step gives traction. We need both.
The idea was simple. If you look closely at life, you’ll see that everyone is climbing something.
A career. A relationship. A difficult time in their lives. A personal challenge.
Life has a way of placing mountains in front of us. Or maybe…we’re just good at finding them.
As I wrote back then, the climb only makes sense from the inside. Watching others or hearing their stories are no substitute for taking it on yourself.
There was another part of the metaphor that mattered even more.
Many of us start the climb with backpacks full of things that make our journey harder than it needs to be. Old resentments. Lingering disappointments. Criticism that stuck with us longer than it should have. Sometimes we even carry baggage that belongs to someone else.
Years later, I came across a Buddhist parable that gave a new wrapper to this idea. It described people walking through life carrying large boulders. Anger. Ego. Grudges. The suffering didn’t come from the boulders themselves. It came from choosing to pick them up.
Whenever a hill approached, I had a habit of shifting into an easier gear before the climb even began. It felt like preparation. It felt like the smart thing to do.
One day I tried something different. Instead of downshifting, I shifted to a higher gear and pushed harder.
To my surprise, I climbed much faster than before, without bonking like I thought might happen.
Sometimes growth means discovering we’re stronger than we realize.
That experience raised questions I still ask myself.
Where else in life do I downshift before the hill arrives?
Am I protecting myself from difficulty…or underestimating what I’m capable of?
Recently, I read a post by Tim Ferriss about the “self-help trap.” He described sitting around a campfire one evening with a small group of close friends, the kind of unhurried night where the conversation slows down enough for truths to surface. He found himself thinking about the fire, and then realizing the fire wasn’t the point. The people sitting around it were.
He described how easily we can become so absorbed in optimizing ourselves, tracking progress, chasing improvement, climbing toward our next summit, that we lose sight of why we started climbing in the first place.
Summits will eventually fade. Our achievements will blur with time. Recognition disappears quicker than we expect.
Perhaps the real work of self-improvement is simpler than we think.
The rocks we’re carrying were never necessary.
The hills we fear are usually smaller than we imagine, or remember.
And the fire, the one worth tending, isn’t the one powering our ambition. It’s the one we gather around with the people we love.
As we enter 2026, it’s tempting to look for a new system, a better plan, or the perfect moment to begin.
Most of the time, the real answer is simpler.
Just show up.
The secret to progress isn’t brilliance or motivation. It isn’t certainty or confidence. It’s presence.
Show up every day. Show up when it’s easy. Show up when it’s uncomfortable. Show up when you don’t know what comes next.
Show up and be present. Show up and handle your business. Show up and figure it out as you go. Show up for the people you love. Show up for the work that matters. Show up for yourself.
When you’re unsure what to do next, don’t overthink it. Show up and take the next step. Clarity usually follows movement.
The alternative is standing down. Waiting. Drifting. Quietly giving up ground you were meant to claim.
You’re stronger than that.
Progress is rarely dramatic. It’s built through consistency. Through ordinary days stacked on top of each other. Choosing to show up when no one is watching.
The hard things happen because you showed up. The meaningful things happen because you stayed. The impossible things only happen when you refuse to disappear.
There’s another truth hidden in showing up.
When you show up, you give others permission to do the same. Your presence becomes proof. Your consistency becomes encouragement. People notice. They realize they can take the next step too.
So how do you crush your goals in 2026?
You don’t wait for the perfect plan. You don’t wait to feel ready.
You show up. You make it happen.
Because that’s what you do. And this is how things get done.
We turn it over in our head. We ask a few more questions. We look for one more data point. We check with another person whose opinion we respect. We wait for the timing to feel right.
And still, we hesitate.
We tell ourselves we need more information. More time. More certainty.
Indecision usually grows from very human places. Fear of being wrong. Fear of being blamed. Fear of choosing a path that can’t be undone. Fear of embarrassment.
Add decision fatigue to the mix and postponement starts to feel reasonable.
Meanwhile, the cost of waiting accumulates quietly. Teams stall. Momentum fades. Confidence erodes. What began as a thoughtful pause turns into drift.
Most leadership decisions are made without perfect information. Progress rarely waits for certainty.
So, what is our hesitation really telling us?
Sometimes, it’s a clear no. A request pulls us away from what matters most. We don’t like what we see, but we’re not sure why. Maybe a partnership doesn’t sit right with our values. In these moments, extended thinking isn’t searching for clarity. It’s searching for a way to explain our decision.
Other times, we hesitate because the decision stretches us. It introduces uncertainty. It raises our visibility. It asks more of us than we feel ready to give. Growth decisions usually feel uncomfortable before they feel right.
At some point, the data stops improving and the waiting stops helping.
Start small. Take a step that tests the decision rather than locking it in. Forward motion reveals new information…something thinking alone can’t.
A decision that turns out to be wrong isn’t failure.
It’s feedback.
And feedback points us toward our next decision.
“Whenever you see a successful business, someone once made a courageous decision.” — Peter F. Drucker
Photo by ChatGPT’s new image generator, which is way better than prior versions of the tool.
From thirty thousand feet, the land below looks like a patchwork of roads and fields. Each marks a choice someone once made about where to go. Some stretch straight and steady. Others twist through hills or fade out of sight. Together they form a map of movement and direction, a living story of people who kept choosing the next road.
Life feels the same way. The routes change, but the invitation stays the same. Keep moving to find greater meaning.
The most rewarding paths often pass through three places. Serving others, staying curious, and daring to pursue new goals.
Service opens our heart. When we give to something beyond ourselves, our life expands. For the younger generation, it teaches them that purpose grows through generosity and connection. Helping a friend, joining a cause, or showing up for someone who needs encouragement builds an identity rooted in contribution. Later in life, service transforms experience into legacy. It turns lessons into guidance and presence into impact. Every act of service whispers that we still matter.
Curiosity keeps that whisper alive. It invites discovery and reminds us that wonder never expires. For young adults, curiosity shifts attention from comparison to possibility. It fuels creativity and builds resilience (because nobody said it would be easy). For those further down the road, curiosity revives joy. Learning something new, exploring unfamiliar tools, or asking deeper questions renews their spirit.
Big goals complete the trio. Ambition alone can fade, but big dreams shaped by purpose bring hope to life. For the young, bold goals turn uncertainty into motion. For the experienced, they rekindle the thrill of becoming. The thrill of pursuing. Every goal, whether to build, create, teach, or grow, reminds the soul that movement still matters. Hope rises with every goal we dare to pursue.
Many people never take these paths. Fear of failure, fear of embarrassment, fear of losing face…they each build fences where we can hide. Quiet excuses convincing us to play small and call it wisdom.
Fear says, “Stay comfortable.” Curiosity says, “Let’s see what happens.”
When fear wins, both young and old lose sight of their forward motion. The young adult who fears being judged easily drifts into hopelessness. The older adult who hesitates to dream again slips into quiet surrender. The reasons sound different, yet the root feels the same. Fear has taken the wheel. Stagnation and hopelessness follow.
Purpose waits just ahead. It lives in the next act of kindness, the next mystery to be solved, the next dream still worth chasing.
The pathways to a rewarding life have no finish line. Every act of service, every curious step, every daring goal breathes new life into our soul.
When we explore these paths, joy and fulfillment will be our companion.
Photo by Line Kjær on Unsplash – I wonder what’s in the next valley. Let’s go find out.
Sometimes the hardest limits aren’t what we believe we are…but what we’ve decided we’re not.
Leader: I’m hitting a wall. No matter how hard I try, something’s stuck. Coach: Where? Leader: Connecting with my direct reports. The one-on-one meetings. All the details. I’m just not wired for any of it. Coach: You sure? Leader: I’ve never been good at connection. I’m not super technical. I’m not touchy-feely. I’m not a detail person. Coach: Sounds like you’ve got your “not” list down cold. Leader: Isn’t that just self-awareness? Coach: Could be. Or maybe you’re protecting yourself with that list. Leader: I’m not trying to be someone I’m not. Coach: Are you avoiding someone you could become? What if the growth you’ve been chasing is on the other side of “I’m not”? Leader: What if I do all that work and don’t like what I find? Coach: Then you’ll learn something real. But what if you find a strength you didn’t know you had? Leader: That feels like a stretch. Coach: Growth usually does.
“Ego is as much what you don’t think you are as what you think you are.” – Joe Hudson
We usually spot ego in people who overestimate themselves. Their arrogance and swagger enter the room before they do.
But ego has a quieter side. It hides in the limits we quietly accept. Not in who we think we are, but in who we’ve decided we’re not.
“I’m not technical.” “I’m not good at details.” “I hate public speaking.”
These negations, the things we distance ourselves from, might feel like declarations of strength and clarity.
But often they are boundaries we’ve unconsciously placed around our identity. Once we’ve drawn these lines, we stop growing beyond them. They protect us from challenges, discomfort, and the hard work we know will be required.
Leaders who define themselves by what they aren’t often:
-Avoid feedback that challenges their identity.
-Miss chances to adapt or grow.
-Choose the path of least resistance.
-Struggle to connect with different types of people.
-Dismiss skills they haven’t developed (yet).
If you’re feeling stuck, ask yourself:
-What am I avoiding by saying, “I’m not that”?
-What am I protecting by holding on to that story?
-What might open up if I let it go?
Sometimes the next chapter of growth begins not with a new strength, but with a willingness to loosen our grip on the stories we tell ourselves.
If you want to grow as a leader—or help others grow—it’s not enough to ask, “Who am I?”
You also have to ask, “What am I willing to become?”
The blinking cursor on a blank document. The empty stretch of land where you’ll soon be building a shop. The new web application your company wants to develop that will revolutionize your industry. These are just a few examples of standing on the edge of something new, something important, yet feeling completely unsure of where to begin.
You might have a vision of the final result—the finished document, the completed shop, the fully functioning app. But that doesn’t mean you know how to get there.
It’s easy to get lost in the variables and the endless possibilities. What if I make the wrong decision? Are there more resources out there? What do other people think? Should I read more articles? Watch more videos? Seek more advice? What if I mess it all up?
In every case, the hardest part is starting.
It’s taking that first step. Writing the first sentence. Sketching out the first screen of an app. Nailing the first stakes into the ground—the ones you’ll attach a string to, so you can visualize where your new shop will go.
It’s a commitment to action over hesitation. A moment of bravery that marks the beginning of making something real.
An amazing thing happens when you start. Your mind shifts from a place of endless “what-ifs” to a place of positive motion. You begin to focus on the next steps and real solutions. All the challenges you imagined before starting—that, in many cases, won’t even come to pass—are forgotten. The path ahead becomes clearer, and each small step forward makes your next decision easier.
Does this mean everything goes perfectly after you start? Of course not. You’ll make mistakes, adjust, learn, and pivot along the way.
But here’s where starting becomes crucial: it provides a tangible foundation. It gives you something to measure against, something to refine, something to edit. You might completely change your initial idea, but you wouldn’t have discovered the need to change if you hadn’t started.
Starting is hard, but it’s also the most important part.
Take the first step, even if it feels uncomfortable. You’ll learn more from those first few steps than you will from standing still…wondering what might happen.
Once you start, momentum kicks in. And from there, the possibilities are endless.
“Garbage In, Garbage Out” doesn’t just apply to computers—it applies to your life. The people you spend time with, the content you consume, and the habits you build shape your future. Want better results? Choose better inputs.
“You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” – Jim Rohn
“You are what you repeatedly do.” – Aristotle
“Show me your friends, and I’ll show you your future.” – John Kuebler
“Your life is controlled by what you focus on.” – Tony Robbins
The old phrase, “garbage in, garbage out” doesn’t only apply to computers and databases. It applies to how we live our lives.
Our inputs—the people we surround ourselves with, the information we consume, and the habits we cultivate—shape our outcomes.
If you spend time with amazing, imaginative, productive, and adventurous people, chances are you’ll start adopting some of those same qualities. At a minimum, you’ll develop personal goals that push you to emulate those qualities in your own way.
On the other hand, if you surround yourself with negative, self-destructive, bitter, or complacent people, their mindset and behaviors will slowly seep into your own life. Even if you think you’re immune, habits and attitudes are contagious.
Small Choices Compound Over Time
Consider this simple example.
If you exercise at least three days per week, you’ll see progress. Do it five days per week, and your results will be even better.
But if you instead have the habit of drinking a large chocolate shake for lunch every day, the impact won’t be immediate, but with time you’ll notice a negative shift in your health and energy levels.
Neither of these changes happen overnight. But over months and years, they define who you become.
Our small choices create big results.
The Status Quo Trap—It’s Hard to Change
It’s obvious that if you run toward a cliff, ignoring all the warning signs, you’re in for a big fall. But in real life, it’s rarely that clear.
Like the boiling frog who doesn’t realize the water is heating up until it’s too late, many people stay in toxic environments, bad habits, or unproductive routines because the declining results are slow and gradual. It doesn’t feel urgent—until suddenly, it is.
Our Inputs Dictate Our Outputs—So Choose Wisely
Our mind works like an algorithm. What we feed it shapes what it returns to us.
If we constantly consume negative news, gossip, or toxic social media, our mindset will reflect it.
If we surround ourselves with people who challenge us to grow, read books that inspire us, and engage in meaningful conversations, our perspective will shift toward productivity and fulfillment.
The good news? We choose. And by making intentional choices, we set the trajectory for our future.
Challenge: Take an Inventory of Your Inputs
For the next week, pay attention to what’s influencing you. Your environment, the content you consume, and the habits you engage in.
Who are the five people you spend the most time with? Are they making you better?
What are you reading, watching, and listening to? Is it fueling growth or draining your potential?
What small habit could you start today that would improve your future?
The inputs you choose today will shape who you become tomorrow, next year, and a decade from now.
Grandpa Bob Encouraging Leadership 
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