The Jobs That Shape You

During a recent conversation with a youth group student, the topic of jobs came up. And not just any jobs, but the crappiest of the crappy jobs. This student had recently experienced a string of terrible work. He was frustrated and feeling down about the entire idea of work.

I expressed my dual sympathies and congratulations on his crappy jobs. Sympathy because crappy can be crappy....and that's no fun. But I congratulated him because these are the jobs that will shape him. These experiences will put him to the test, show him how to persevere, shine a light on what he doesn't want to do, and teach him how to serve people well (even when it doesn't feel great to do so). Then, I shared a few of my crappy high school jobs:

My first ever job was getting up at 4AM every single morning during summer break so I could rake the sand traps at our local golf course. The actual work was ok, but getting up every day at 4AM as a 15-year-old trying to enjoy my summer was brutal. But that job taught me so much.

Then there was my job at the cheese factory when I was 16/17. No, not Cheesecake Factory. A literal cheese factory. Again, I would get up at 4AM every Sunday during the school year to go package cheese. There's nothing like being half awake, at 5AM on a weekend morning, standing in a 45-degree room for seven hours. But that job taught me so much.

Ah, then there's the U.S. Census Bureau. Somehow, at age 18, I stumbled upon an opportunity to work for the government in its effort to collect data for the 2000 census. My job was to knock on the front doors of families who hadn't yet submitted their surveys and convince them to give me their information. What I learned on my first day was this: there was a reason some people hadn't filled out their survey.....they really didn't want to give the government any information. So when some kid comes knocking and asking for personal details, emotions run high. Two men pulled guns on me that first week (one of which was the father of my brother's classmate). I even approached a house where dozens of animal carcasses were rotting in a screened-in porch. Yeah, that entire experience was absolutely miserable. But that job taught me so much.

Even if I could, I'd never undo any of these crappy experiences. They helped shape me into the person I would later become. Without them, I would be missing many key attributes that have led to my career and leadership success. I cherish the value of those jobs.

So to my young friend coming off a string of terrible jobs, congrats! You're exactly where you need to be. Keep moving forward. Those experiences will shape you.

Buy That Coffee

It's been a week. Today will mark my seventh consecutive day working at my client's office in Midland, TX. I've really enjoyed the work, and the people, but I'm spent. I've really poured myself out this week, and we've made some massive progress along the way. All in all, it's been a tremendously worthwhile endeavor. 

Yesterday, in an effort to give myself a much-needed kick-start, I stopped for a coffee on the way to the office. As I was paying the cashier, all I could think about was all the financial gurus shaming and belittling people for buying coffee. 

**In my best condescending financial bro impersonation voice** "Did you know that instead of spending $6 on that coffee each workday, if you invested it in the stock market, you'd have $220,000 in your investment account after 30 years? I hope you enjoy your coffee!!!"

A few thoughts:

1. The math is correct. 

2. $220,000 is a lot of money.

3. That coffee really made my morning.

4. Life is about so much more than a financial equation.

5. Meaning over money.

6. I'm not going to feel one ounce of guilt.

As a finance guy, I could obsess about hoarding every penny I earn, investing it well, and watching it compound into millions of dollars so that one day I can swim in it like Scrooge McDuck. But that sounds terrible. 

I'm not advocating reckless financial irresponsibility. I'm not suggesting we shouldn't save or invest. Rather, I'm suggesting that we shouldn't give up little things that add value to our lives. If you love buying coffee each day, but that coffee. If you love going to your fancy gym, go to your fancy gym. If you love eating at excellent restaurants, bon appetit. 

There's always a place to sacrifice, but it doesn't have to be what others tell us it should be. It's sad to watch clients reluctantly give up something that adds value to their life simply because everyone around them is slowly but surely guilting them into it. At some point, we convince ourselves that what we're doing is wrong or stupid. But in many cases, it's not. We're exactly where we should be. 

I'm really glad I bought that coffee yesterday. I just may do the same today. Or not. Either way, I won't sweat the things that add richness to my life. There are plenty of places to sacrifice.....this won't be one of them. 

The Reminders We Don't Want

On Saturday, during the busiest day of the week, our Northern Vessel coffee shop experienced what could have been the most tragic of situations. A car, stolen earlier that morning, barrelled into the side of our shop at full speed. It first struck a customer standing out front, sending him through the main window and down into the basement (the cavern being exposed due to the impact).

At the same time, two of our full-time staff members and a loyal customer were sitting on the built-in bench with their backs against the glass window. Upon impact, as the bench was dislocated (exposing the basement where the outside passenger fell), these three individuals began to retreat and were thrown across the room.

Miraculously, nobody sustained life-threatening injuries. In the aftermath, as the team looked around the room, now covered in glass and blood, it was a harsh reminder of how delicate our lives are. One minute we are enjoying a sunny weekend afternoon sipping a coffee while hanging with friends, and the next minute all hell breaks loose. We often take for granted how special this opportunity of life is.

I've been debating all week about whether I should write about this situation. My gut initially said no, but something else happened. Well, two something elses. One of my team members experienced an unfathomable tragedy in her life last week. That's not my story to tell, but it's a story that makes me weak in the knees just thinking about it. And just two days ago, a team member at one of my clients also experienced a tragedy that's hard to wrap my head around.

To be honest, I've had a hard time processing all of this. Life happens, because life always happens. But these are hard pills to swallow. These are the reminders we don't want. Reminders about how someone you care about so much can be gone in a heartbeat. Reminders about how unpredictable this life can be. Reminders about how meaningless money, status, and stuff are in the big picture. Sure, we need to handle our finances well and care for ourselves. Absolutely. But when push comes to shove, 99.9% of us would give up all the money in the world to be with those we love. But in the repetitive rhythm of our lives, it's easy to forget that. We quickly find ourselves fixating on something a bit more superficial.

This is why meaning over money is so important. Life is too delicate, too short, and too special to focus on the money. Hug your loved ones, create memories, and always live for the meaning.

Playing the Long, Long....Long Game

As my kids are heading into first grade next week, they are in this sweet spot where they are just getting into reading. They are fascinated with it, but aren't yet fully proficient. Out of sheer curiosity, they try to read just about everything. TV tickers, nutrition labels, shirts in public (this one is dangerous), highway signs.....everything.

The other day, out of the blue, Finn looked over at me and said, "Dad, when I'm bigger, I'm going to read your blog." It was a brief but touching moment for me. The idea he likes to read makes me happy, but the idea he wants to read my writing is profoundly special.

Over the last several years, I've published hundreds of thousands of words, nearly a hundred hours of audio, and countless videos. I create this content for those I wish to serve (including you!). I genuinely want to help people, add value to their lives, and play a positive role in their journeys. However, there's a secondary motive behind what I do. Someday, when I'm buried in the ground, my work will still be here for people to use and enjoy.

I often think about how fast our world is moving. I'm still pretty young, but I grew up in an entirely different technological era. I have a limited amount of grainy home video footage and a few hundred pictures. That's it. When those who came before me pass, I'll still have my memories, but nothing concrete. Several years ago, my paternal grandfather wrote a self-published book about his life. Now that he's gone, that book has become much more special in my life. It's something I can read and re-read for decades to come.

But my kids will have an entirely different future regarding content and memories. Someday, they may stumble upon a blog post, YouTube video, or podcast episode where I talked about them. It's like a digital time capsule that the weather can't destroy. These are memories, stories, wisdom, and tributes, cemented in time.

Someday, when Finn is "bigger," I hope he types my name into whatever search engine runs the world at that time. When he does, oh the treasures he will find! Each written word, snippet of audio, and video clip will be there to meet him where he's at. No matter how much good comes from my work, or if it happens to change the world, there will be no greater joy than to have my kids someday receive what I've left behind. I'm playing the long, long, long game.

If this post made you think about your own life (and those who come after you), let it serve as an inspiration and motivation to create. What you create is up to you, but just create. Put something into the world that you'll be proud of for people to discover and enjoy for decades to come. By the way, if you don't think you have something worth sharing, you're wrong. It matters!

Just Stick Your Head In the Sand

One of my clients reached out with concern yesterday. He recently saw that one of the most famous investors in the world shorted the stock market. That means he's betting that the stock market will crash. If the market goes down, he wins. If the market goes up, he loses. It's also worth noting that he's reportedly put 90%+ of his portfolio in this position. In other words, a very prominent investing figure strongly believes the market is going down....and he's putting his money where his mouth is. 

My friend's immediate response was that he, too, should consider selling his investments. This reaction is a very human way to approach investing. This is also where we get ourselves into trouble. The problem with timing the market is we have to be right twice. We have to know when to sell, then when to re-buy. It sounds easy. Sell it now when the market is high, and buy later when it is low. In practice, however, it's anything but easy. Let's say he was to sell now. How do we know the market won't go up another 10%, 20%, or 50% before it falls? Every time it goes up, he'll be more emboldened to stay out until it finally crashes, affirming his original decision to sell. Then once it does eventually crash, he'll need to know when to buy again. It's a scary place at the bottom. It's full of fear, uncertainty, and imbalance. More times than not, people who try this approach re-buy way too late, after the market has significantly recovered. The data shows people who try to play this game significantly underperform the market.

What's the alternative? Just stick your head in the sand. The wise, patient, and effective choice is to simply ignore the noise around us. Do nothing. Don't worry about it. Don't make any decisions. Don't let fear get the best of you. Just stick to the plan and trust the process. 

Check out the chart below. It shows the stock market's value, over time, since 1/1/2000. Since then, the stock market has crashed four times:

• 2001: Down 46%

• 2009: Down 54%

• 2020: Down 32% (in 5 weeks!)

• 2022: Down 20%

Yet, through all this mess, the person who just stuck their head in the sand would have approximately 3.2x as much as they started with (more than tripled your money!!!). This doesn’t even include all the dividends you would have received along the way (which averaged 1.9%/year during that stretch). You wouldn't have lost a wink of sleep, spent any time dealing with your investments, or worried in any shape or form. This is the way investing should be. Head in the sand. Trust the process. Just live a meaningful life!

* For whatever it’s worth, this is exactly what I’ve done in my own life. I started long-term investing in late 2000, and have never once sold one penny of one investment. It’s an extremely simple and tremendously effective way to handle our investing. And no, I didn’t lose one wink of sleep when I lost 1/3 of my life’s savings in a five-week stretch in 2020 or 1/5 of it in 2022. We take the bad with the good, period.

The Work Goes On

One of my friends recently left his job to do something else. He enjoyed his job and found a ton of fulfillment in it. He served a lot of people and made a significant impact on this world. But he felt a call to do something new in his life. In this new season of his career, he'll serve people differently. He'll use his gifts, passions, relationships, experiences, influence, and resources to find new ways to make an impact.

I'm excited for him! It will be an interesting shift considering he's been at his job for 50 years. Yes, 50 years! That's not a typo. He's been at his job since eight years before I was born!! He just turned 74, and he's excited for the next season of his career.

Many people probably look at him and think, "he should just retire and enjoy his life!" The truth is, he enjoys his life more than most people I know. That's the beauty of work that matters. He's pursued work that matters for a half-century, and he'll do the same for whatever remaining time God gives him.

Sure, he'll probably slow down a bit. After all, 74 isn't quite the same as 34. His hours may be shorter, and the physical intensity may decrease, but the impact will no doubt be just as profound (if not more) than the first 50 years of his career. After all, he enters the next season of his career with more relationships, experience, influence, and resources than he's ever had in his life. The world says he should pack it in and ride off into the sunset, where he can live a life of leisure and spend his life savings on himself. Instead, the work goes on, and his meaning bucket will remain filled to the brim. Faith, family, friends, mission, memories, and work that matters.

He could spend his remaining days golfing, sitting on the porch, or parked in front of the TV.....but he won't. His purpose is too great for that. Instead, he'll continue to do what he's called to do: make an impact.

This is what I call a role model!

Nine-Pound Pillows For the Win

As I'm on the road this week, I miss my pillow. But not in a little-kid-who-misses-his-blanket sort of way. I have a ridiculously amazing pillow....and it's not just any pillow! It's nine pounds of buckwheat hulls jammed into a piece of fabric. Yes, I sleep with a nine-pound pillow. Yes, it's as weird as it sounds. No, I don't know what buckwheat hulls are. Yes, it's fantastic.

About a year ago, I stumbled upon some random dude on social media who was touting "The 10 best products I purchased last year." Curious, I gave it a quick read to see if I could learn anything. Several items on the list were interesting, but none more than a nine-pound pillow filled with buckwheat hulls. This sounded mysterious and a bit new-age-y, but I was curious enough to find out. I forked over $38 and eagerly awaited its arrival. I'm not saying I sat at the window for hours waiting for the delivery truck to pull up, but I'm not saying I didn't. Then, it came!

The first few nights were rough. It was such a different experience that I couldn't tell if I loved it or hated it. Shortly, though, I thoroughly loved it. Sarah made fun of it and mocked it for months. In her defense, have you ever tried to change the pillowcase on a nine-pound pillow? It’s like trying to give a bath to a toddler…..it’s taxing. But then, something happened! I went to bed one night, and she had stolen it! She claimed she just needed a second pillow and had no other options. But she repeated her crimes on multiple occasions. Eventually, she confessed that she, too, loves the buckwheat pillow. I have a feeling we're about to have 18 pounds of buckwheat living on our bed. Weird times.....

Of all the purchases I've made over the last five years, never in a million years did I think a nine-pound pillow would top my list. But alas, it's been a game-changer for me. It's changed my sleep quality, and I rarely get neck soreness anymore. Some of the most impactful purchases come in the most unexpected packages. We shouldn't be afraid to try new things or to invest in products that can add value to our lives (even when it's a want!). Even better, many of these products are pretty affordable. Double win!

What about you? What's one product you purchased for less than $75 that added a shocking amount of value to your life? Curious minds want to know! If you leave a comment below or reply to the e-mail (if you're a subscriber), I'd love to aggregate all your ideas into a future post. Oh yeah, and I may just test them myself!

Pulling Apart vs. Bringing Together

I love business travel. Since my first opportunity to travel for work (Denver in August 2005), I've loved it. In the front half of my career, the travel was primarily domestic (NYC leads the way with 24 trips, followed by South Florida with nine, and Los Angeles with eight). In the last eight years, it's been more international (mainly Middle East and SE Asia).

There's so much to love about travel, business or otherwise. Seeing new sights, experiencing different cultures, meeting unique people, staying in interesting hotels, and learning something new about yourself. I always love the trips.

Along the way, I learned a few particular people don't always love the trips: two little boys. They don't ask much of me.....just 100% of my attention 100% of the time. No big deal....haha!!

Business travel always felt like a positive for me.....until one particular trip. It was September 2018. I was throwing the final few items in my bag before heading to the airport. I was flying to the Middle East and would be gone for nine days. Though Sarah was supportive of this trip, I could see the stress and nervousness in her eyes. Not because I was heading to the Middle East, but rather the stress of caring for twin two-year-olds for more than a week without me being around. To top off the moment, this particular day was Finn and Pax's second birthday....ouch!

I've been mindful and intentional about my trips since that experience. I still enjoy them as much as ever, but it's always hard to leave the family. After some of these experiences, I realized a shift needed to happen. Luckily (or unluckily) for me, two consecutive events transformed my relationship with business travel: I left my prior career, and COVID shut down our world.

As my new career started to grow and the world opened back up, I finally had my opportunity to put my money where my mouth was. If business travel had historically pulled our family apart, was there a way to use the same business travel to bring it together? It was an interesting experiment, but I was up for the challenge.

We tested this idea by bringing the entire family to Los Angeles earlier in the summer. Not only were we able to create some amazing memories (Disney, beach, food, more beach), but they were also present for some of my work. Sarah attended one of my talks and also watched me deliver a sermon at a church.

This week, we're trying it again. I'm spending the next eight days with a client in Midland, TX. Instead of being absent from my family for the home stretch leading up to school starting, we're using this opportunity for one last family summer adventure.

I don't know how this experiment will play out in the long run, but I'm excited to find out. I hope it provides meaningful work, tons of new memories, and brings us all together in powerful new ways.

Value and Context, Context and Value

I'm particularly fond of one specific budgeting app. Well, let me clarify. They have two versions: one free and one paid. I'm fond of the paid version and severely dislike the free version. The paid version costs $80/year.

Whenever I meet with a new client interested in using an app or software for their budgeting, I highly recommend the paid version. Considering they are already paying me to coach them, the last thing they want to do is spend another $80/year on an app. I totally get it! However, I always add, "it will be the best $80 you ever spend."

It's not that I'm trying to get my client to spend money. Rather, I know how much value there is for their $80 investment. Going the premium version route will easily save them 18 hours per year (1.5 hours per month). More importantly, however, going the free route will likely end up with them giving up and quitting......which is a far worse outcome.

This brings me to the idea of value. If this $80 investment will save 18 hours per year, that works out to $4.44/hour. Is your time worth less than $5/hour? I didn't think so! Further, if this $80 investment could possibly be the make or break between you thriving financially and quitting in disgust, is it worth the investment? Ab-so-freaking-lutely! Put that way, it truly may be the best $80 you ever spend.

Whenever we spend money, we shouldn't ask ourselves if we can afford it. We shouldn't ask ourselves if the price is low or high. We shouldn't ask ourselves if it's a need or a want. Those are fine questions to ask. The primary question we need to ask ourselves is how much value we are getting for the cost. If we're getting more value than the cost, it's probably worth the investment. If we're getting less value, probably not.

But value is in the eyes of the beholder. We all perceive value differently, and value can also be contextual. Here's an example. You walk into a convenience store and see an array of bottled water products on the shelf. Some cost $.99, but another costs $5. The perceived value of that $5 water probably doesn't feel so great.

Later that day, you're watching your favorite baseball team at the ballpark. The sun is shining, it's 90 degrees out, and you're parched. That same $5 bottle of water suddenly becomes the best $5 you'll spend all day. The value changes when the context changes.

Back to the budgeting example. If someone is casually interested in budgeting but isn't really committed to making changes in their life, that $80 investment is like throwing money in the trash. On the other hand, if they are focused, determined, and ready to kick butt, that $80 investment may be the gateway to life change.

Context matters. Seek value.

The Simplicity of Simple

I was recently sitting in a coaching meeting with a couple when the wife made a proclamation about her husband. "It changed him. I've never seen him less stressed about spending money." Wow, what was "it?" What's the magical secret that caused such a dramatic shift in this man?

Truth is, it's something simple. The best, most impactful ideas usually are. Set up a separate savings account specifically for travel. Call it "travel fund." Budget money for travel each month. Physically move said money into the travel fund. Travel. Feel zero guilt. I told you it was simple! It's literally the simplest idea in the world, yet oh so powerful. When we set aside money for a specific use and clearly name it, we're able to let go of the guilt. Why? Because that's what the money was supposed to be used for. There's no second-guessing, asking, "Can I afford it?", or playing the there's-a-more-responsible-thing-to-do-with-this-money game. It's the simplicity of simple.

The entire financial industry endeavors to take simple things and make them complicated. It's a great way to justify your existence and create everlasting demand for your products/services. Meanwhile, I firmly believe we should be doing the opposite: making complicated things simple. Or better yet, making simple things simpler.

This is the key to true literacy and widespread adoption in any field. If we pursue the art of simple, we can better connect with those we wish to serve. Not because we think people aren't smart enough, but because they deserve to have it delivered in the most effective and efficient means possible. Whenever people tell me I make things too simple, I say, "thank you."

If you're struggling with finances, simplify. Less (or no) credit cards, combined finances with your spouse, streamlined processes, automated payments/transfers, consolidated investment accounts, rounding transactions instead of obsessing about every penny (this one makes accountants sweat), and a cushion in your checking account so you don't have to freak out about the house payment coming out before the paycheck is deposited. Simple tweaks, powerful results.

It's the simplicity of simple. Here's my challenge for you today. Find one area in your financial life that you can simplify. Just one. One tweak or modification that will make it easier, quicker, or more enjoyable to manage your finances. Have an awesome and simple day!

One Bite at a Time

In November 2008, on the heels of just finding out we would soon be forced to move to a new state because of my job situation, my new fiancee (of three days) and I were sitting with $236,000 of debt and a whole lot of stress. To clarify, she had $0 of debt and I had $236,000. Beautiful, I know. Thus began a journey that would forever change our lives.

We didn't know how to pay off $236,000 of debt, so we did the only thing we could think of. We paid off what we could this month. Then we did the same thing next month. Then again the following month. Some months we paid off a ton, while in others, it was far less. But we were committed to making progress.

It reminds me of a famous quote from Desmond Tutu. "There is only one way to eat an elephant: one bite at a time." We couldn't pay off $236,000 in one swoop, so we just took one bite at a time. 4.5 years later, the debt was gone. That final payment happened more than 11 years ago, and that achievement still boggles my mind.

Today, we published the 250th episode of the Meaning Over Money Podcast. That's 71 hours of content, free to the world, which will be archived and available online forever. Wow! Reflecting on that journey feels a lot like my debt payoff story. It's hard to fathom how we did it, but it was really just one bite at a time. Two episodes per week, every week, without fail, for nearly 2.5 years. We've never missed an episode. Every Monday and Wednesday since March 2021.

We didn't just wake up one day and decide to produce 71 hours of content. Rather, we woke up and produced 14 minutes of content, then 18 minutes, then 15 minutes, then 19 minutes. Over and over and over. We didn't do anything special. We just had a very clear mission: record 10-20 minutes of concise, relevant, engaging, and useful content for the people we wished to serve.

This is the power Desmond Tutu's words. We can accomplish anything, no matter the scale, if we simply take one bite at a time. It won't happen overnight, but luckily it doesn't have to. I hope you take your bite today!

The Power of (Actually) Shared Experiences

One of my favorite past times is sharing a meal with friends: good company, good drinks, good food, and good conversation. When I look back on some of my favorite memories, it usually revolves around a shared meal. However, there's one problem. In the U.S., we don't actually share in the dining experience. You enjoy your meal, Mary enjoys her meal, Bob enjoys his meal, and I enjoy my meal. We have an experience together, but it's not a truly shared experience. We may be sitting at the same table, but depending on our specific order, we're each having a unique and siloed experience.

This has always bugged me, especially when order regret sets in. You know what I'm talking about. The server brings the dishes out and delicately places each one in front of the person who ordered it. You look at yours, then at your neighbor's, and realize you wish you ordered what they did.....it's the worst feeling!

All this dining angst came to a head when I made my first trip to Asia in January 2016. Sarah and I were invited to fly across the world so I could interview for a board position. Our first night rolls around, and it's time for dinner. I'm eagerly anticipating this meal, as I love unique food, and it's my first time eating Asian food in Asia. I'm totally geeking out, while at the same time nervous. What will I order? What if I make the wrong choice? What if I accidentally order something I don't like? There are so many things to eat....how do I pick just one? I'm weird, I know.

But as we get settled into our seats and it's time to order, something weird happens. My friend Rob just started ordering. He asks if anyone wants anything in particular, then continues to order more. A while later, food starts coming out. The plates, platters, and bowls are haphazardly set wherever there is space to house it. Then, the good part. Everyone starts serving themselves from each of them. You know, like you do at home with your family. You know, a truly shared experience. It was an amazingly fun experience. I tried maybe 15 different dishes that night, and each person at the table also experienced those same 15 dishes. It was a shared dining experience we don't often get here in the States.

An example of a truly shared experience meal. Notice the massive lazy suzan to efficiently share with each other. This picture makes me hungry!

From that point on, it changed how Sarah and I experience food when we go out to eat. She orders something, and I order something, then we share. As our kids have grown, we've expanded that experience. Each person will choose a menu item, and we request the servers to set all of them in the center and provide some extra plates. Then, we have our fun shared experience.

It's been a beautiful shift for our family. It adds an entirely new dynamic, excitement, and bonding. There's so much meaning in shared experiences, and I encourage everyone to seek them out whenever possible.

The Case Against (Hosting) Garage Sales

I love garage sales. Before having kids, I would regularly hit the local neighborhoods on Saturday mornings, looking for an exciting score. It felt like a modern-day treasure hunt. Some days I would strike out, and others, I would hit the jackpot! 

With that context in mind, I'm against hosting garage sales. High cost, low reward, and most importantly, a giant missed opportunity. I'll share a brief story to illustrate why I land where I land. Many years ago, I found out via Facebook that my obviously wealthy friends were hosting a garage sale. Knowing what I know about their careers, they easily combined for $500,000 of annual income (and have the house and cars to match that perception). Out of pure curiosity, I showed up at the garage sale. Disorienting doesn't even begin to describe the feeling I had by combing through $5 skillets and $6 bedsheets while standing in the driveway of an $600,000 house (for my non-Midwest friends, that's a pretty nice house). 

First, I don't think they are evil or doing something unethical. It's their life and they get to do whatever they want. However, I believe they whiffed on one of the greatest giving opportunities of their lives. Tens of thousands of dollars of material goods were sold that day, for maybe a few hundred bucks. The alternative option was to bless others in significantly profound ways. That kitchen set? There's probably a single mom in their community that just left an abusive marriage that would be over the moon to receive that gift. Or the bedroom goods? They probably have some friends with a kid who just left the nest with few resources. The list can go on and on.

Sarah and I had this conversation relatively early in our marriage. We committed to never selling anything. Any time we part ways with something, it will be given away. It's not ours to begin with, after all. We get to benefit from it for a while, then share it with someone else can do the same. For more than a decade, that belief has carried through to our actions. My favorite example of this was in late 2019 when we sold our 4-bedroom house and downsized into a 2-bedroom townhome. We gave away nearly every material possession we had. 

• Our mower went to a former youth group kid who had just purchased his first home.

• We gave my beautiful office furniture to a local woman with terminal cancer. 

• Our kitchen table went to a close friend, and we regularly eat at that table when we visit them. 

• Tons of baby clothes and supplies went to former youth group kids and clients who were becoming first-time parents. 

We could have easily sold this stuff, but instead we got to be on the giving end of some special blessings. These are beautiful opportunities in front of each of us. We all have something to share, and I believe sharing is better than any price you could charge. 

Truth Bombs From Finn

Do you have a favorite meme? Is that even a thing? Can we have favorite memes like we have favorite albums or favorite movies? I'm making an executive decision by ruling that, yes, we can have a favorite meme. Ok, now that I've solidified that, I have a favorite meme.

It's a picture of Yoda that reads, "Once I became a parent, I understood the scene where Yoda gets so tired of answering Luke's questions that he just dies." So funny! I laugh at this every time I see it......I'm laughing as we speak.

Last night, I took the boys to watch one of my Christian rapper friends put on a local show. We had an absolute blast and the kids' eyes were opened to an entirely new art form. As we were leaving the event, I heard a very common phrase, "Hey Dad?" It was only the 3,342nd time I heard that phrase on that day.

"What's up, Finn?"

"You know all the times we spend together and the rides we take?

"Yeah, bud!"

"I have all those memories in my head and can dream about them any time I want. I could even think about them right now if I wanted."

I was floored! When I approached a stop sign, I whipped my phone out and hastily wrote down his quote. Wow! If you consume my content, you probably know I think/talk a lot about investing in memories. It's a constant theme in my value system and my coaching.

But out of the blue, my 6-year-old son drops a bomb on me, essentially summarizing in two sentences what I spend so much of my career trying to encourage in others. Memories are forever. Memories are powerful. They won't end up in a landfill. They revolve around special people. They don't necessarily cost anything. They latch onto us and influence who we become and what we do.

Memories merely require that we be present. I was exhausted last night. A part of me just wanted to stay home and lay low. That would have been easier. But I really wanted to support my friend, who I knew was excited for his show (he crushed it, by the way). I also knew my kids would love. Therefore, I chose to be present.

That's the weird part about memories. Sometimes, we plan, plan, and plan, hoping to create the most amazing experience. Then, something much smaller surprises us by being the memory that perseveres through time. To this day, the one memory my kids have about a particular week-long spring break trip is swimming with me in the hotel pool.

So all we can do is be present, be intentional, and let the chips fall how they may. When we do, we'll inevitably create powerful memories worth far more than anything money can buy. Or in the beautiful words of Finn, they will be in your head, and you can dream about them any time you want!!

It Doesn't Have to Break the Bank

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, TJ and I made our way to a Chicago Cubs game after our conference on Thursday night. We had the most wonderful time! It was quite spontaneous, as evidenced by our not deciding to go until 1PM the day of the game. That's what makes some of these memories so fun. While eating lunch, TJ suggested we buy tickets.....so we jumped on the Seat Geek app and bought tickets. Despite popular belief, creating memories doesn't have to cost an arm and a leg.

Do you remember those old Mastercard commercials where they listed out all the costs of a particular thing, then the last item's price was listed as "priceless?" That's what I thought of while we were at the game. Here's what my ad might look like:

Tickets to the game: $32

Parking: $15

Italian Beef: $11

Old Style Beer: $12

Lifelong Memories: Priceless

I paid $70 for an impulsive outing to create memories that I wlll surely carry with me for years to come. It was the easiest $70 I'll spend all month. I could play the "I could use that $70 for something more responsible" game, or the "but I don't need it" game, but no other use of that $70 would generate the return Thursday's night escapades did. Those memories truly are priceless!

That's the power of memories. Some memories are free, some are expensive, and some are just pretty dang affordable. They are often even sweeter when they are impulsive, as it adds a different dynamic to the situation.

What's an impulsive decision you recently made that resulted in a fun, priceless memory? I'd love to hear your stories!!!

Wrestling With Trust in a Shady Alley

Yesterday at lunch, TJ and I decided to buy tickets to last night's Chicago Cubs game. After the conference concluded, we headed straight toward Wrigleyville. The traffic was brutal, so what we believed would be plenty of time available before the game got squeezed. Once we arrived, we had a heck of a time finding parking. It was an absolute mess!

Then, we found our beacon of hope. A man was standing on the street with a sign that read, "Parking: $30." Just what we needed! He waved us down a shady-looking alley and eventually to a shady-looking garage. He pointed at the garage and said, "Just back it in here." TJ and I looked at each other, both nervous about what was happening. We apologized to the man and told him we would find alternate arrangements. As we headed back out of the alley, we recognized two things: 1) we were running out of time, and 2) maybe we just needed to trust him.

We put the car in reverse and headed back to the shady-looking garage in the shady-looking alley. We nervously parked the car and told him we changed our mind. He only accepted cash, but we only had $10 on us....far short of his $30 fee. "That's ok, you can just bring it when you come back!" Of course he's ok with us not paying him.....the parts he's about to strip from my car are worth several grand!

He said he wouldn't be around later in the night....he has to go to work. No big deal, however. "You can just put the money under this bucket when you leave," as he pointed to some construction materials near the front of the garage. Let me get this straight. We're leaving our car in a stranger's shady-looking garage, he doesn't care that we don't pay him right away, and he won't even be around when we return to ensure we actually do pay him? "I trust you guys. I hope you have fun at the game." Wow, he's definitely stealing our car.

Fast forward four hours. TJ and I had a memorable time together and were ready to deal with whatever consequences we had coming for us. How do you think the story ends?

My car is there, right where we left it. The man is nowhere to be found (as he foreshadowed). It's just us, my car, and this shady-looking garage in a now pitch-black shady-looking alley.

We didn't trust him, but he trusted us. He had no reason to trust us. He could have told us to leave. He could have forced our hand. But he didn't. He trusted. He showed us grace. We're glad that we (eventually) trusted him as well. We didn't have a pen/paper to write him a thank you note, so we threw in an extra $10 under the bucket as a gesture for his gesture.

That man taught us a valuable lesson. Trust. Grace. Generosity.

"What In the World Am I Doing?"

"What in the world am I doing?" These were the words spoken by a close friend who was feeling extraordinarily stressed by his work. It was a redundant question, but these words hit home for me. I, too, have these exact same moments. What in the world am I doing!?!?

He knows what he's doing, of course. He knows exactly what he's doing, and it's awesome. He's making a massive impact on this world, and his work provides him a ton of meaning along the way. This is the thing about work that matters. It's not necessarily fun. It can be, but only some of the time. Other parts of the work can be tremendously challenging. It can occasionally wreak havoc on us mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Not because the work is bad or unhealthy, but because work that matters is rarely easy. It forces us to push ourselves, take the road less traveled, and go against the grain. Living in discomfort, aggressively pursuing something we are called to do, and fighting through the many challenges just comes with the territory. It's hard, but so, so beautiful.

My friend went on to say that though he wishes he didn't feel this way, it's a sign that he's exactly where he needs to be. There is an alternate reality where he lives an easier, less stressful, more comfortable life. I know this, and he knows this. But never in a million years would he trade this for that alternate life. His "why" is too big, the stakes too high, and the impact potential too grand. Thus, he will persevere and the adventure will continue.

Perhaps I'm not making the best case for pursuing work that matters. It's far from perfect and often quite uncomfortable. On the flip side, I don't want to paint an unrealistically rosy picture of a fun-filled, easy-going, stress-free life. Context matters and candor is key.

But here's the promise I can make you: it's worth it. Work that matters is always worth it. If you've found it in your life, congratulations on being in rarified air. Don't ever take it for granted or let it go. If you haven't found it.....yet......the search is not over!

This Generation, Man!

Do you ever think about how doomed we are with this young generation coming up? Lazy, disinterested, entitled, and spoiled. They don't want to work, have no idea how the world works, and are too soft. Well, that's the narrative, anyway.

I couldn't disagree more. I think this cultural narrative of dragging our young generation through the mud is unfair at best, complete crap at worst. Every generation has bad eggs. I know you know some bad eggs in your generation. You surely wouldn't want those people's faults and failings to define you, would you? That would be unjust and ridiculous.

I think Gen Z will absolutely change the world. In the coming years, I believe some of the our most profound problems will be overcome by the unique minds of this generation. They are simply wired differently than us older people. While the world calls them unmotivated, I think we need to clarify. They are highly motivated, just not by money. In the world of meaning over money, this generation gets it unlike any before them. That value set doesn't breed laziness, but rather impact and purpose.

I think of Cole, my Meaning Over Money co-founder. He's a filmmaker who has a heart to tell stories that will change the world. He works his butt off, he's a ridiculously good husband, and he adores his two kids. (My grammar check software suggested I replace "ridiculously good husband" with "perfect husband." His wife would disagree.....). He's technically the world's youngest millenial, but I'm going to lump him in here because I like talking about him.

I think of Parker, my young friend who recently jumped on board our team to record content for us. He's passionate about so many things in life, work and otherwise. He just returned from a 3-month overseas mission trip where he impacted a ton of people. He has a heart of gold and a desire to move the needle in this world.

I think of Claire, my social media manager. I used to be her youth group leader, but now she blesses me with her expertise and wisdom. She's 16 years younger than me, yet I look up to her and learn from her every day. You better keep an eye on this one. She, her husband, and her future kids are going to make an impact on this world.

I think of Noah, a gifted photographer who has absolutely crushed the content creation game for Northern Vessel. This guy has a vision, a motor, and a heart to make a difference. Every time I see him, he's pouring into others and doing exactly what he's meant to do.

I have a hard stop at 500 words for this daily blog, but I could list off another 30 young people who are crushing it and flying directly in the face of everything negative we collectively say about this generation. The next generation has arrived, and they aren't stopping at "good enough."

When Pigs Fly

Did you know that pigs can fly? I have proof! My biggest fear in life is public speaking. It terrifies me. I once took public speaking 101 during summer college because I preferred to have 12 strangers watch me vomit rather than 100 of my university peers (true story!).

The vomiting would remain a theme for the next decade. Every time I spoke, which was as rare as I could engineer, I would vomit (in private, luckily). 10 years ago, the inevitable reality set in that I would need to speak in my career. You know, when the stakes were higher and where it's poor form to vomit on current and/or prospective clients. Therefore, I took the only step a desperate man would take: I started seeking out speaking opportunities to beat my fear into submission.

Those first few (or few dozen) talks were brutal. At first, the vomit was still there. But eventually, I merely felt like I was going to vomit. Big win! At some point along the journey, I even moderately enjoyed it. Fast forward to today, and it's one of my favorite things in the world. To me, there's nothing like the nervous energy in the minutes leading up to a talk, the euphoria of delivering a message I believe in, and the deep satisfaction I feel afterward, knowing I might have made an impact and once again conquered my biggest fear.

As I venture into this world of professional public speaking, I can't help but think about how my biggest fear has turned into a passion and a career. See, pigs can fly! Here's a little demo reel our media team recently put together. You’re the first people to see it outside of our little team!

Here's my takeaway today. I'm not special....yet, pigs fly. If that's true, and I hope you know it is considering I used the word "vomit" five times above, some pigs in your life need to spread their wings and fly. I have a feeling you already know what they are. You might have turned your back on them for years, or even decades, but the wait is over. Let those pigs fly!

First, We Fail

Yesterday, before I was about to mow the yard, Finn asked if he could help me. He's been obsessed with "mowin' men" since he could talk, so operating a push mower is right up there with ice cream and swimming pools for that kid. At first, I did the turns and let him single-handedly run with the straightaways. Then, about halfway through, he asked if he could do the turns by himself. I assisted him on the first few, but after a while, he got into a rhythm and did them himself.

The yard looks like absolute garbage. The lines are terrible, we missed spots, and he damaged a plant while trying to make one of his turns. But it was a huge win and I'm proud of him. In that moment, I had two options. First, I could have said no to him and insisted I run the show (in an effort to have a better finished product). Second, I could let him learn. I'm always a believer in the second option. While I'd prefer a yard that doesn't look like trash, today's lesson was so valuable.

Regardless of who we are or what we're trying to learn, first, we fail. Failure is the prerequisite to doing it poorly. Doing it poorly is the prerequisite to doing it average. Doing it average is the prerequisite to doing it good. Doing it good is the prerequisite to doing it great. But first, we fail.

The key word is "first." If we don't allow for a first, for the possibility of failure, how do we expect to become great? It reminds me of something I refer to as the experience paradox. Perhaps there's a technical name for it, but this is what I call it in my head. A college student applies for an entry-level job. They don't get hired because they don't have any experience. But they can't get experience until they get an entry-level job. But they can't get the entry-level job because they don't have the experience. See the paradox?

I'm really proud of Finn. The last time we mowed, he simply couldn't do it. Total fail! Today, he did a poor job. Good for him! His innocence and naivety allow him the freedom to simply be bad at something.....then become less bad. When this happens, it enables him to get better through repetition and failure.

This is a beautiful trait in young kids. It's also a beautiful trait in grown adults, though it's far less common. It's not comfortable to do things we know we'll do poorly. Applying for that job. Starting that business. Creating that content. Launching that product. Asking that person out. Asking for that promotion. When we don't have experience, we may fail. But remember, it's all part of becoming great. Becoming less bad is the onramp to the road of excellence.

I hope you do something poorly today!