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Bariatric surgeries have exploded (that might not be the proper verb) in recent years. Part of the reason is the improved technologies to make it “minimally invasive,” but I think it’s primarily because people want a fast, easy fix. And now add a new found popularity of drugs like Ozempic ® making weight-loss even easier.

Everybody wants fast and easy. Nobody prefers slow and hard. But there are some things where slow and hard provide a value not found in fast and easy.

After a round of NFL playoffs games as the 2023/2024 season was winding down I heard a coach say something I’ve heard before, but something I hadn’t heard in awhile. He remarked that great football teams do the hard things really well. For months I’ve thought about it even though I instantly knew he was right. There’s beauty and wisdom in the struggle. Never mind that we don’t always enjoy it. It benefits us.

There’s that old tale of a man watching a caterpillar struggle to escape its cocoon. Figuring he’d make it easier for the butterfly to emerge he got a pair of scissors and snipped parts of the cocoon. Minutes later some creature not even resembling a butterfly escaped the cocoon. Turns out by making it easy he had ruined any chance for the caterpillar to enter a phase of being a butterfly. The struggle required to wriggle out of the cocoon forced life into the wings. No struggle, no wings. No wings, no butterfly life.

It’s a good reminder of the value of our own struggles. Even if, in the moment, we can’t quite see the future benefit.

In Thy Paths

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More specifically maybe…false assumptions about my (our) retirement…

1. That you must have at least a million dollars to retire.
2. That you really need three million dollars to retire with security.
3. That you should delay collecting Social Security until at least 65, and preferably until 70.
4. That you should travel.
5. That you should do all the things you’ve always wanted to do, but never got around to.
6. That you’ll struggle with a sense of purpose.
7. That you may struggle with boredom if you’re not careful.
8. That it will cost you much more than you figured.
9. That it’s important to have (and pursue) a bucket list.
10. That you’ll have much more leisure time.

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Happy Father’s Day 2024!

The what was crystal clear.

The how was no where in sight.

Casey Neistat is the OG of YouTube, vlogging and social media creation. He’s associated with New York, but it wasn’t always so. Casey set his sights on NYC knowing he wanted to make it there. Without any idea or plan on how to do it. But he’d grown up hanging on by a thread so he was comfortable.

Casey had two qualities that drove him, gratitude and optimism. A little boy with absentee parents. No restraints. No security. Hanging on by a thread.

One man’s ceiling is another man’s floor.

The desperation and despair drove him. Created him. Forged him.

Watching Casey for years and knowing his story got me thinking about mastering the hang. The hanging by a thread. Handling risk and failure. Hanging on. Even by a thread because even a thread provides suspension above failure. And despair. In the thread we find hope. Enough hope to continue.

Patience vs. impatience.

A willingness to hang on by that thread for however long it’ll take.

Casey describes his early life as a life without any plan B. He was working 60 hours a week making $7.25 an hour working in a restaurant kitchen. What was he going to do? Move back to southeastern Connecticut where he’d grown up in despair? Optimism drove him to declare – both to himself and others – “I’ll figure it out.”

Said Casey: “I was running from a pack of wolves. I knew if I slowed down or stopped, I’d be eaten.”

Thinking of Casey’s story and how he described the early part of his journey to find success, I began thinking for the umpteenth time about how life circumstances impact us. It’s remarkable how for some it becomes crippling baggage providing a million excuses. For others, like Casey, it’s the catalyst that drives them to rise above all the tragedy and despair. That old meme remains true. Hot water makes the egg hard, but it softens the potato. I suppose it’s the hot water that shows us what we truly are, but I’m still puzzled about the choices we make – and I do believe we choose what we become, unlike the egg or potato.

When working with a group in my coaching practice I often deploy a number of strategies to create closer bonds. Trust, vulnerability, safety – these are all critical when we’re trying to develop high-performing teams (or groups). Seeing each other as something other than a position or title serves all of us well. At work we rarely are able to show our full humanity, which is a shame because that’s where our deepest connections are made.

It’s interesting to watch it happen. A group of people enter a room. They know each other. They have some context for one another. But many of them don’t really know each other very well. Over an hour, or two, they begin to see other differently. They understand the past pain, suffering and struggle. We can all relate. Our story specifics may differ, but at a macro level – we’re mostly similar.

It’s apparent that we all had many opportunities to decide, will we be an egg or a potato? Will the circumstances of our life – especially the ones we had little control over – harden us or soften us? And will that hardness manifest itself in a resolve to rise above it or will it be a hardness that drives us deeper into excuse-making, and blaming? Will it soften us in ways that cripple us and rob us of the confidence and resolve needed to succeed? Or will it soften us so we can be more compassionate and grow into better humans?

Choice. Making up our mind.

Will we hang by the thread with optimism? “Hey, look…I’m still hanging on!” versus “Oh, man. I’m just a thread away from falling.”

Hanging on by a thread is still hanging on. Just like “by the skin of your teeth” is still getting by.

Sure, the margin is thin but it’s a bit binary – you’re either hanging on or not. Whether it’s by a thread or a strand of threads.

It’s congruent with the theme of last week’s episode. There’s pressure on the situation. Maybe it’s do or die. Maybe not. But in this moment we feel the urgency, importance and seriousness of the situation. Or maybe we *think* we know.

Time.

Capability.

Innate talent.

Skill.

Experience.

Opportunity.

Challenge.

What’s the goal of hanging…whether by a thread or a strand? Is the object to continue to hang or is there something else?

I’ve never wanted to just hang indefinitely. As kids we had monkey bars. The goal was to move from one end of the contraption to the other by way of a dozen or so bars from which you had to hang. The point was to swing from one bar to the next until you completed it…all without letting go. Hanging was the conveyance to get from one end to the other.

For me, hanging has a purpose. Maybe it’s waiting for what’s next. Maybe it’s moving toward what’s next. But hanging is a moment in time and I guess the question is, “How long do I need to hang on until that next thing occurs?” It’s a game of endurance. Which makes that thread part of it seem dangerous. Maybe it is dangerous. Maybe it’s more dangerous in our head based on our fear that the thread won’t last long enough.

How long is long enough?

There’s the rub. We don’t often know.

Enter fear.

Fear of falling.

Fear of the thread breaking.

Fear we won’t survive the fall.

Does that make us paranoid? Or delusional? Or pessimistic?

It could. But not necessarily.

All of us are afraid of failing…falling. Some of us are afraid of hanging on, too. Perhaps we’re afraid of even grabbing the rope, no matter how strong it may appear.

Some years ago one of our grandsons would not jump into the swimming pool. All the other kids would run and jump in, but he’d stand on the edge hesitating. Followed by more hesitation. And more stalling. Then he’d back up, start to run toward the edge, then stop. This would go on for many minutes until he’d finally just take a step and drop into the pool. He never would jump.

I spent many minutes with him every time this happened…trying to understand what he was feeling. “What are you afraid might happen?” I’d ask. He couldn’t tell me. “Look at the other kids who are jumping in. Have you ever seen them get hurt, or cry after they jump in?” I’d ask. He hadn’t, but he still couldn’t bring himself to jump.

Until one day he did…and that was that. Fear conquered in a single swoop.

But until he did it he was too afraid to grab the rope of jumping.

I’ve thought long and often of my own fears. Considering the ropes of my life that I’ve neglected to grab…or the ropes I grabbed, but failed to hold onto long enough. I’ve thought of the times I may have quit too soon. Stopping short of success that might have been.

What might have been…

It’s not helpful though. To dwell on choices we didn’t make. We know the outcome of our life because of the choices we did make. If those choices have taken us to the thread when we could have avoided the thread, we should learn. We should repent – change our mind, change our direction, do better. Become more wise. If those choices can be fixed, we should pursue figuring out how. Whatever we do, we must face our present reality.

Now What?

We are where we are because it’s where we’ve chosen to be. Not that we chose to be sick, or unemployed or whatever other bad things may have happened to us, but we chose our reactions to the hardness of our lives. Those choices put us here. Right here. Right now.

What are we going to do now?

Will we hang in there by doing what we’ve always done to put us in this precarious state? Or…

Will we hang in there by growing, improving and figuring out our missteps?

In short, will we fix what ails us or just complain about our lot in life? We are, after all, trying to lean toward wisdom, which includes reducing or eliminating our cowardice and excuse-making.

What does the hanging by a thread represent to you? I think mostly we associate it with barely hanging on. To which I’d say, but we’re still hanging. In my life, I just don’t want it to be passive. It needs to be active — an intentional effort to gain a better position. That means, at some point I’m going to have to let go of the current position. To remain holding on by a thread seems like a bad strategy. Unsafe even. But I don’t want to let go until I feel I’ve bettered myself. I need something better to grab onto.

I recently read about the Palmar Grasp Reflex, noticeable in new born babies. We know how strong their grip can be. I never understood why until now. The Palmar Grasp develops around week 28 of gestation. It lasts until a child is about 6 months old. It’s involuntary. The baby isn’t behaving intentionally…yet. Put your finger or any object in their open palm and they’ll grab it more tightly than you’d think they’d be able. I read that it’s almost strong enough to hold the baby’s weight (not advisable). Sometime between 4-6 months babies start deliberating reaching for things. Scientists think the Palmar Grasp Reflex is the same neural pathway needed later for the baby to choose to grasp things.

So, if you’re older than 6 months old you get to decide what to grab. Be careful, but brave.

Recklessness is never a wise choice. Too much caution though can rob us of opportunities to advance and grow. Or have fun, as illustrated by my fearful grandson refusing to jump into the pool.

Casey Neistat endured a childhood he described as “hanging by a thread.” Still, he had something to hang onto until he figured out something else to grab. I suppose we all have to grab onto something. Something to which we can hang onto for however long it seems to serve us. For teenage Casey it meant diving headlong in filmmaking. It meant moving to New York City without any connections. It meant letting go of home because that wasn’t working well enough for him and grabbing onto himself to chase his dreams.

We know his story because it worked out well for him. But I propose it would have worked out well for him no matter what. Leaving a place where he was hanging by a thread to grab something better was surely going to happen because Casey first did the hard thing. He made up his mind to find something he could grab, then he let go.

I know people who were not hanging by a thread, but by a solid strand who let go without having any valuable hand or foot hold to go to. People let go all the time because they’ve convinced themselves their unhappiness is somebody else’s fault. Stuck in blaming the world for their poor behavior and poor choices they find themselves miserable. Misery drives them to full speed selfishness where misery gives way to despair.

Rather than doing what young Casey did – making up his mind that he wasn’t going to live hanging by a thread – they just let go of the little good they may have. Nobody free falls their way to a better life. Nobody falls into growth, improvement and wisdom. It requires a wise decision. That wise decision can be just momentarily where we refuse one thing to grab something else. It may be a short period where we do the right thing, which may lead to longer periods of doing the right thing. No matter the time frame, it always demands a mind made up.

So if you’re hanging by a thread keep hanging. Diligently look for a better hold. Analyze the prospective future hold and make the best decision you can. Be brave and reach for it. Grab it like a newborn baby. Then let go of the thread.

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Kenneth Aronoff is a drummer for John Mellencamp. He’s also part of a documentary, The Untold Stories Of Your Favorite Musicians. He talks about the early days with Mellencamp when he was asked to come up with a drum solo of sorts for a new song, Jack & Diane.

When I first heard him say it my mind went into a few different directions.

One, being good under pressure. Not everybody is. How can we improve that skill?

Two, being good on your feet. That is, being able to figure it out in real-time, with the clock ticking. Again, how can we hon that ability?

Three, knowing you’re at a pivot point that could (no guarantees) change everything. How can we recognize the importance of this moment?

Aronoff had enough of all three to handle this moment.

“It’s kind of funny…the moments on which life hinges. I think growing up you always imagine your life–your success–depends on your family and how much money they have, where you go to college, what sort of job you can pin down, starting salary…But it doesn’t, you know. You wouldn’t believe this, but life hinges on a couple of seconds you never see coming. And what you decide in those few seconds determines everything from then on… And you have no idea what you’ll do until you’re there…”
― Marisha Pessl, Special Topics in Calamity Physics (a novel)

Pessl is a novelist who has crafted some great lines. Truthful lines. This is one of favorites. Life often hinges on a couple of seconds we never see coming. More accurately, it hinges on what we do in that moment. In those seconds. And while you have no idea until you’re there, all the things we’ve done up that moment prepare us.

I will prepare and some day my chance will come.  – Abraham Lincoln

That line speaks to our ability and our optimism. The belief that we’ll put in the necessary work and in time, we’ll get an opportunity.

I often wonder if we knew in advance of that moment, would it help us or hurt us? Might we live in constant fear and anxiety if we knew? It may be a blessing that when those moments arrive, we had little or no warning.

In the last episode I talked about how special forces train so when the battle erupts, they react wisely (and well) automatically. So much so, they describe their reactions under fire as “it just happens.” That’s the value of preparation. It’s the value of focus, intensity and dedication to constant improvement.

It’s also the quest to learn what we don’t yet know. Ignorance isn’t bliss. It can be disastrous when we act based on it. Many dramatic stories prove the point. Mostly, tragedies prove it. Hamlet. Romeo & Juliet. Stories where people lacked knowledge, but took actions based on it. Stories where they had 25 to save themselves, or somebody else…but they got it wrong.

Tragedy has visited each of us, partly because of actions taken based on our ignorance. We thought something, but without full knowledge, or understanding, we got it wrong. The result was tragic. Maybe not life and death tragic, but some version of tragic none the less.

25 feet to get it right. Or to get it wrong.

I began to consider the journey to those 25 feet, wondering how important those feet are. And how we might influence them.

Reminiscing of my 25-foot-moments I tried to remember what led me there. What happened and how did I get it wrong? Did I get it wrong? Sometimes yes. Sometimes no.

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On Chris Williamson’s Modern Wisdom YouTube show with Tim Kennedy, a Special Forces master sergeant and author, Kennedy was recounting the extensive training of special forces. In the fog of war there is no time to think when bullets start flying. It’s all reaction. He details the many micro movements of firing a weapon during a fire fight, emptying the weapon and reloading – all within seconds. It’s not a strategic – “I now need to do this” – kind of thing. It’s something you’ve practiced tens of thousands of times. So much that when the moment comes, it just happens.

It just happens.

He said you practice it so much, that when the moment comes, it just happens!

But first, it’s a slow, arduous journey of working hard.

Everything is hard, until it’s easy. Everything is slow, until it’s fast. 

This is why most things remain hard to many people. They don’t put in the work.

It’s why we remain broke, fat and miserable, too. And why too many of us lack faith, gratitude and compassion.

Because it’s hard work. It’s not couch potato work!

Some weeks ago I mentioned to Lisa Norris, my co-host on the Grow Great podcast (a podcast about city government leadership) that every high-performer I’ve ever known pursues the hard stuff. They’re not complacent. They’re all strategic in learning more, growing and adding to their arsenal. I remarked,

“Everything is hard, until it’s easy and high-performer are always chasing the hard stuff.”

Practice doesn’t make perfect, but perfect practice does. That’s what we’ve heard for decades. It’s absurd though because it presupposes that our work ought to be perfect in practice (when it doesn’t matter as much). However, if the saying speaks to the process of practice being perfect (our willingness to put in the work by doing what we must in order to improve), then it’s not absurd at all.

When I heard Tim Kennedy’s response I went back to notes I’d been making to myself about preparation (practice). I’m a lifelong fan of preparation. This – and all my podcasts – depict my fandom. I use a broadcast workflow because I’d rather prepare in advance of recording instead of just winging it, then fixing it all in editing after-the-fact. Besides, preparation is where I’ve found my confidence can be greatly enhanced. And I hate not feeling confident.

What is confidence? Where does it come from? Where do we have it?

Long ago I concluded that my confidence isn’t singular. There are a few different types of confidence in my life.

First, there’s confidence in God. I’ll call it a spiritual confidence. It’s based on belief, faith and conviction. It’s not an internal faith in myself, but rather it’s my inner confidence in something and someone else – something much higher and more powerful than myself. My spiritual confidence is based only on the Bible because it’s the only standard I have to inform me about God. Any other confidence based on feelings or intuitions or urges would come from me, not the Bible. That makes them susceptible to being mere delusions so I won’t base my spiritual confidence on such things.

Second, there’s confidence in others. This is an external confidence based on my belief and trust in others. It may be based on past history or expected future. I’m confident that our family will help influence my five grandchildren to be successful adults, able to navigate their lives well. Ages 16 to 8, it’s yet to be proven, but I have confidence in our family and in these children. Maybe it’s an optimism based on the work we’re putting in to help train them all. But it’s not entirely based on the adults in the family. None of these 5 children have shown an unwillingness to be compliant to learn and improve.

My confidence in others is based on past behaviors and on my expectations of their capabilities. It’s not an absolute though because I’m not in control of what they do. I’m not confident they’ll please me because that’s not my expectation. I expect them to improve and grow because I care about them being their best.

Third, I have confidence in myself. It’s not absolute or complete. Sometimes it’s spotty. More so than I’d like.

My confidence in myself is mostly born from preparation…practice. In areas where I fail to focus, I struggle. Appropriately.

Permit me to veer to where I lack confidence and why.

The federal government is’t my savior. I already have a Savior who is divine so there’s no point in looking for one that’s not. I know many people look at the federal government, and to a lesser degree state and local governments, to rescue them from whatever ails them. I don’t. It’s a conscious choice all of us make.

It’s problematic to put confidence where it doesn’t belong because fundamentally it’s delusional. It’s belief in something that isn’t worthy of that belief. It’s unreasonable and unrealistic expectation that something will happen, which will never happen. The cavalry of government isn’t coming to save us. They work vigorously to make us believe though. They desperately want and need our confidence to be placed in them. “Trust us. We know what’s best. Just leave this business to us.” We hear those kinds of messages from local municipalities all the way to Washington, DC. It’s a global epidemic as governments are in full-blown self-preservation mode growing bigger and bigger.

…I hope we have once again reminded people that man is not free unless government is limited. There’s a clear cause and effect here that is as neat and predictable as a law of physics: As government expands, liberty contracts.”          – Ronald Reagan

Self-preservation motivates those in power to remain in power. Fear contributes to the process. It works like a charm. A snake charmer! 😀

I only digress to point out that everybody can put their confidence where they choose. This is merely my admission of my own choices. You make those you feel are best for you. I’m on record that I’m a capitalist who enjoys the power of a free and open market. Yes, I support competition and oppose monopolies. There’s nothing free about the latter. I know markets make winners and losers of us all. If I bring insufficient value, I won’t survive as a business. If I bring high value, I will. Besides, I’m fond of knowing how I’m doing. Keeping score is a great thing when it comes to business and enterprise. It’s a terrible thing when it comes to interpersonal relationships.

In the race to bet on oneself or to bet on government, I’d much prefer to bet on myself. I view government as I view leadership. It’s a focus on others and doing for others what they can’t do for themselves. So while I need government and as a Christian, I pray for governments, I don’t put my confidence in them – beyond trusting them to pick up my trash, make sure my water works (and is clean), make sure my toilets flush, make sure my electricity continues to work, make sure my safety is reasonably preserved, etc. I can’t do those things for myself.

1 Timothy 2:1–4
First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.

Romans 13:1
Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God.

Who is working for whom? It’s fundamental to the conversation about confidence and being prepared. Who is serving whom?

Being in service to myself to put in the necessary work to become better isn’t selfish. It’s right. Everybody benefits.

As I grow and improve as a person I can better influence those around me. I can make better decisions. Take better actions. Benefit myself and all around me. It can’t be helped IF I practice with intensity to insure that when moments come, I’m fully prepared to do the right thing. Not without thinking, but because I already made up my mind. Because I pre-thought it by putting in the work.

That’s the point.

Putting in the work in advance. That’s the practice.

Putting in the work long enough to endure the hard…until it gets easier. Then continuing it long enough until it becomes easy.

Then…

Advancing it up a notch (or three) to make it hard again…until it gets easier.

For me, it’s the drive to always make it better. It’s also the dissatisfaction that it’s good enough. Not to the point where my discontentment is crippling (or anywhere close to that), but to the point where I’m continually driven to improve it. It’s a restlessness with complacency.

For me, it’s not a restlessness with calmness or quiet. I’ve seen that in the lives of others, people who are just perpetual motion machines. Such folks tend to not get nearly enough done though. They log a bunch of miles, but without actually going anywhere. This often mistake movement with progress.

It rarely just happens for them. I know because I hear how hard they work, how much they’re hustling, how fast they’re working and how busy they are. “I’ve gotta run,” they repeat. Years later, it’s the same thing. These poor folks are stuck in Ground Hog Day living a life on constant REPEAT. That’s not progress. That’s not growing confidence. That’s not practicing so when the moments comes “it just happens.”

It’s also exhausting. And I’m only a spectator to their frenzy, but it whips me.

In place of that…what if the effort were focused? Intentional. Purposeful. Strategic.

What if our “practice” was driven with forethought aimed at an ideal outcome?

And here’s a big one: what if our practice was at something we couldn’t wait to do over and over again because we desperately wanted to master it?

And what if we mastered it and we still felt like we could advance in it?

How good could you become at such a thing?

There’s only one way to find out. Do it. Give it a go. Keep on giving it a go. Make sure that talent is your limitation, not aimed effort.

I know I have limited skills that will prevent me from achieving more, but I have no way of knowing those limitations if I don’t practice diligently to improve.

There are naturally gifted athletes who make it to the professional ranks. There are less gifted people who also make it to the pros. It would seem you can make it to the professional leagues of sports by being naturally talented, but you also have to put in the work to practice your sport. The extraordinary athletes, those world-class performers, combine both. Then along comes that person who has visibly natural ability that makes them superior, but something goes awry. Maybe it’s addiction. Maybe it’s poor behavior. Maybe it’s lack of desire, or lack of work ethic. And their career, which could have been spectacular, fizzles. Because something got in the way of putting in the practice. Discipline to stay the course. Missing.

It’s hard to discipline yourself. It’s hard to do the hard thing. Procrastination is easy. “I don’t feel like it right now,” is a phrase I’ve said too often. As a result, many things have gone undone. Either completely or for longer than necessary.

Not right now.

And when the moment comes, that’s the answer we get back to the thing we most wish would happen in that moment…

Not right now.

How’s that working out for you?

Really well.

It’s efficient. Reliable. Ridiculously predictable.

Galatians 6

⁷ Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap. ⁸ For he who sows to his flesh will of the flesh reap corruption, but he who sows to the Spirit will of the Spirit reap everlasting life. ⁹ And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart. 

You didn’t know that was in the Bible? Yep, that’s where mankind got that wisdom – you reap what you sow. What goes ’round comes ’round. God ordained it.

Nature proves it. Plant tomatoes and you get tomatoes, not okra. Or cucumbers. Everything after its kind. God ordained that, too.

What are you practicing? Why?

If you practice self-indulgence, then that’s what you’ll reap. The consequences of a self-indulgent life.

If you practice self-discipline, then that’s what you’ll reap. The benefits of temperance, self-control.

I wish it were an all the time, everything deal, but for me – it’s not. Sometimes I’m self-indulgent. Other times, I’m self-disciplined. My goal is to lean away from self-indulgence and lean toward wisdom through self-discipline. Restraint from the things I should not do and embracing the things I should – that’s what I ought to do. Ought to.

“Mean to don’t pick no cotton” is a Southern saying that means saying you intend to do something is different from actually doing it.

“All hat and no cattle” is an idiom that means someone is full of big talk but lacks action, power, or substance.

I’m too often guilty of that. Like right now.

I’ve got a list of things I need to do. A long list that isn’t getting any shorter because I’m not knocking things off that list.

The Yellow Studio 4.0 took weeks longer because I’d stare at the work required and say, “Not now.” But when I dove in and began to do the work it was rewarding to see it come together. The feeling afterward was positive, uplifting. The feeling after I made excuses was guilt. Uplifting or guilt? That’s an easier choice than doing the work or putting it off.

Homer Simpson’s philosophy continues to grow in many of our lives. “Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?”

Well, the answer is choose regret and guilt or choose achievement and confidence. Laziness or achievement?

But there’s something else about that line uttered by the Special Forces guy…”

you practice it so much, that when the moment comes, it just happens!

In that world of warfare, there are moments that come. Pivotal, life and death moments.

As I kept thinking about this line and how truthful I believe it to be, I also realized that in our lives – we ordinary folks who aren’t in mortal combat – our achievements are comprised of lots of moments. Some of them micro moments. Some not so micro. More often than not, moments that don’t seem so consequential – not like a fire fight in war. More like, a moment where I decide to not eat that ice cream sandwich and go for a 20-minute walk instead. Moments where I decide not to buy that shiny little object, but to set that money aside in a high yield savings account. Or an S&P500 low cost index fund. And it’s the cumulative impact of all these choices that define my life.

Financially.

Spiritually.

Physically.

Relationally.

It’s a moment of hugging my wife. Or refraining from hugging her.

It’s a moment of putting my phone away so I can be more present as I sit across from her at a restaurant table. Or at home. Or not.

It’s a moment of squirreling away that $100 I find myself with, or blowing it on something frivolous.

It’s a moment of thinking the worst of somebody, or thinking there may be a plausible explanation for their behavior in this moment.

It’s the compounding effect of all my choices and decisions and how they add up to create a definition. Not a defining moment, but a defining life.

I’ve talked about that chart of a penny doubled every day for 30 days. It’s worth bringing up again, but it’s how our lives work in areas beyond money.

 

We make choices that seem insignificant. Good choices. Bad choices. The compounding works the same. Cumulative bad choices take a toll that’s far heavier than we think in real time. Cumulative good choices pay off in a far grander way than we realize in the moment. Good can take time. Bad tends to take less time.

By day 27 a person who opted for the penny doubled is thinking, “I made a horrible choice. Only 3 days left and I’m over $300,00 shy of what I could have had if I’d taken the million bucks.” But look at those last 3 days. In a single day he’d have made up the difference plus an additional $342K. The next day, he’s over 2.6x times the single million dollars. And by day 30, he’s got almost $5.4 million instead of just one million.

It’s these moments that define us. These moments of decision and action. Or indecision and inaction.

It doesn’t mean the line is any less valid or accurate. I think it very much is – we put in the work, we predetermine what we’re going to do, we practice doing it, and we keep on doing it over and over so when bigger moments come, it happens. Because all along the way those smaller moments have been happening. Our preparation has increased our confidence. Our confidence has built our resilience. Our resilience has prepared us for the things that could go wrong so we can counter punch them.

It’s the difference in a life well lived or a life wasted. For combat soldiers, it’s life or death. I could argue it’s true for us, too. All of us.

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