Keep On Trucking

Long haul truckers have a special place in my heart.

My grandparents were, for as best as I can remember, long haul truckers my whole life till they started winding down to retire. They bustled all over the US trucking around hooking up loads, hauling them to who knows where, dropping them off, and grabbing a new load locally and doing it all over again.

They were pretty good at what they did and it meant a couple times a summer they would visit us for a weekend or a couple days or a weekend when they had a load that needed to come our direction.

I loved seeing my grandparents.

I so appreciate the many long hours and millions, maybe even a billion, miles they put on their truck bouncing all over the US. Mile after mile, load after load, they dutifully delivered their haul.

Much like any project, they started the load with a full tank of gas and a clear destination. And just the same, the more they worked the gas ran down. They had to stop and refill their tanks. It was not sexy or awesome, but they had to do it to keep going.

They paid attention to the maintenance their trucks needed. Kept food in the truck’s fridge. They kept going and took care of whatever it was that needed done as they went.

They did not get the load on the road and then walk away when the trip was longer than they expected because of bad weather.

They did not give up because they hit traffic and were slowed to a crawl because...rush hour.

They kept going despite being rerouted due to construction.

How are you doing with your life’s goals? Are you still moving forward despite the bad weather you have run into? What about the part of life that is incredibly slow? Are you sticking with it, knowing that it will pick up soon? How are you doing with the parts of life being unexpectedly rerouted? Are you keeping to the new course, knowing it eventually leads back to the road you were on?

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Ideas come to me pretty regularly. Some of them pretty good and others…not so good. I love new ideas. They bring me life, energy, and I really enjoy coming up with them. Honestly, coming up with more and more ideas is probably something I could do for hours every day and never think twice about it. Getting to dream and picture a new idea or future or opportunity is second nature to me. I have little investment as to whether or not they are even good ideas. Most of the time, I want to come up with ideas and nothing more.

The rub comes in when I have to go beyond the idea. When I have to carry out the idea. At first it is not so bad. Nothing wrong with getting an idea started. It is good and healthy to get an idea started. Everyone appreciates a new idea. Early on, the new idea is getting going and changing and developing so much. The idea is morphing as it emerges from the cocoon, a beautiful butterfly. 

Emergent, the the butterfly will take off and start flying. Though, it is still dependent on me. I am the brains of the butterfly and I have to work to fly. Flap down and flap up.

Then again, I have to flap down and flap up.

Over and over again.

Flap down.

Flap up.





I do not have the patience anymore. By now my idea is less of a butterfly and more of a moth. Grey. Disgusting. Fluttering around the light on my porch in the middle of summer. 

My idea is stale and now I am struggling even to show up for my idea. 

Flap down, flap up.

My ideas are great until I have to bring them to fruition. However, what kind of world would it be if I gave up on my ideas? I may have been great at coming up with them, but what is the point if I never do anything with them? My part is coming up with ideas but does that release me from fruition? Do I no longer have to take part in the execution?

How are you involved in new ideas and projects? What is your part of the project process? What kind of world would it be if you gave up on your part of ideation process? What would your life be like if you never fulfilled your part of the idea?

Carrying on,


Not A Noun

‘Grit’ It seems to be a bit of a buzz word of late. I hear about it on podcasts. Read about it on blogs. See it zipping around the world wide web. Successful entrepreneurs have it. Aspiring entrepreneurs want it. It is the prized possession.

Only it is not a possession. I do not get to own grit. As a matter of fact, I do not even get to feign having it. Truly, grit is not a thing at all. 

Grit is a choice. 

Grit happens over and over and over again.

Grit happens slowly.

I hear Bill Hybels talk about it at the Global Leadership Summit as one of his six points about leaders blah blah blah…

Would it not be wonderful if it were that simple? I could add it to my life as one of six goals to develop over six weeks. Then afterwards, I would then have a tool in my toolbox. 


Success, I have grit…right!?             


Grit is much like a callous. It happens over time. It develops because I put the time in. Grit is just like a muscle. It does not come because I decide I want it. It comes because I choose to persevere forward even though I have been told no. Even though I am tired I keep trying. Even though I am bored I keep learning. Even when I am distracted I decide my goals are more important than my comfort. Suddenly grit becomes part of every day. Every. Single. Day. Is marked by several decisions involving Grit. 

No my quippy buzz worded friends. Grit is not tool in a toolbox. Grit happens over the course of months and years not days and weeks. Grit happens when I am hangry and I do not want to push forward. Grit happens when I am tasked to sort and label each individual grain of sand in a dump truck full of sand. 

Grit is doing the hard stuff. The stuff I do not want to do. Grit is trying even when I do not want to. Grit is making dinner after a long day even though my wife and I have been fighting all day. Grit is dealing with hard conversations in real time even when I do not want to. Grit is cleaning up after people who I do not think deserve it. The part that sets these moments apart from plain old patience and perseverance is, I do these things with a smile on my face and keep a positive mental attitude.

Grit is a verb not a noun.

Where do you need to grit?

Even when I do not want to,


PS. These are my observations as I learn how to do this. Not my reflections because I think I have learned how to do this. I do not do this well most of the time.

Choosing Me

Recently, I had the opportunity to get out of town with my wife and really just get away. Just an overnight trip nothing too elaborate; but, definitely a gem in the month of January, so quickly after the holidays. During this trip I found myself speaking out. Pointing out issues to store clerks, a little more aggressive in my ability to pick out issues in conversations with strangers, and generally more apt to fight for a little more than what I was being given. I wasn’t being mean. I wasn’t being rude. I wasn’t obnoxious, annoying, or demeaning. I was genuinely pointing out what I saw, asking for help when I needed it, and using my voice.




If you’ve never tried it, you should! 

As we were heading home and talking about our trip together, my wife pointed out these differences in me. She appreciated the difference, especially as my outspokenness was not a combative maneuvers towards her during an “intense moment of fellowship.”

I reflected reflected on the difference, pondered, chuckled, and said, “I decided to choose me.” 

Choosing me resonates deep within my core. Especially right now. I am in a place where I am meeting adversity. In the face of adversity, I am still going to choose me. Previously, I would have just laid down and given up. I would have kept quiet. I would have been taken what I was given. This time I to chose me and I am not going to give up. I am not going to choose me because I am better or have a marginal superiority. I am going to choose me because I was chosen first. 

How often do you choose you?