I read a lot of biographies. They are a way to be mentored by people you’ll never meet in person. The author sits down across from you and tells you the truth about their life, and you walk away changed.

That happened to me with Viola Davis’ memoir, “Finding Me.”

If you only looked at where she started, you’d bet against her ever making it out. She grew up in Central Falls, Rhode Island, in the kind of poverty most of us only read about. Rats in the walls. An abandoned building with no running water. She went to school in clothes still damp with urine, because there was no way to wash them. She was abused by people who were supposed to protect her, including her own father and brother.

Stop and think about that. A little girl. No water, no safety, no reason to believe tomorrow would be any different. So how does a girl like that end up winning an Oscar?

Two things had to happen.

First, she decided. Somewhere inside her seemingly hopeless existence, Viola made up her mind that she was going to be something more. Not because anyone told her she could be. Because she refused to let her circumstances dictate her future.

Second, someone gave her a chance. When she was 15, a man named Bernard Masterson, who ran a performing arts school, saw her raw talent and handed her a scholarship. That single “yes” set a poor girl from Rhode Island on the road to becoming an Academy Award winner and, eventually, one of the few people alive to win an Emmy, a Grammy, an Oscar, and a Tony.

Now I have to be honest with you. I didn’t grow up like Viola. I grew up in a middle-class home with two parents who loved me. I never once wondered where my next meal would come from or whether I’d have clean clothes for school. My mom and dad gave us a great life. I had every advantage she didn’t.

And that’s exactly why her story is jarring for me.

Because if you had handed me Viola’s childhood, I’m not sure I would have made it out. Having all your needs met can make you soft. Comfort can make you OK with the status quo.

Not that I didn’t work and strive. I did. I had 31 years in corporate roles. A title, a salary, a calendar packed with meetings. From the outside, it looked like success. On the inside, I was at times one of the walking dead, going through the motions, telling myself that someday…I’ll bet on myself.

It took a brain surgery in 2018 to wake me up. Lying in that hospital bed, I wasn’t thinking about my title or my next promotion. I was thinking about whether I had done anything that actually mattered, and whether I had used the life God gave me for the reason He gave it.

There’s an old Cherokee birth blessing that Viola references in her book:

“May you live long enough to know why you were born.”

It doesn’t just say “may you live long.” It says, “May you live long enough to know why.” There’s a difference between being alive and knowing why you’re alive. Viola knew why. She had to fight through hell to live it out, but she knew.

So let me ask you the question I keep asking myself.

Are you living the life you were meant for? Or are you chasing comfort instead of significance? When do we finally turn the corner and start living for the reason we were put here, instead of for the next thing that makes us feel safe?

I’ll leave you with two questions to think about:

1. What’s the thing you were born to do that you keep putting off because comfort feels comfortable?

2. Who in your life is waiting for a yes? A young person with raw talent and nobody in their corner. The employee everyone else overlooks. You might give them the one “yes” that changes their entire life.

There is a day coming when you will take your last breath. Until that day, I pray that you will fulfill your purpose by serving those who are desperately waiting for your help.

See you next Sunday.

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Listen here.

I love listening to Chris Stapleton. Even if you don’t like country music, you must admit, the dude can sing anything!  Take “A Simple Song” for example.

It’s got classic country themes about a guy who:

• is always behind in his work

• has a sick dad he wishes he had time to fish with

• saved some money but then had to fix his broken-down truck

• doesn’t get along with his family

• is hooked on cigarettes

• has a sister who got laid off from work

To top it off, he has high cholesterol! But then… he steps back and sees the good in his life: his kids, his dogs, and his relationship with his wife.

Here’s the point. This poor guy has decided to settle and feels like he has no agency over what’s next. He’s a victim of his circumstances. In truth, each of us has things we’d like to be different about our lives. We can lull ourselves into a sense that says we have no control. Is that true?

Viktor Frankl said,

“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom."

You do not have to mark time in life, letting one day float past the next. In most situations, you can take control and shift your mindset. I wonder how your life might change if you focused on what is going well? What if you saw the possibilities in the day ahead instead of what isn’t how you’d like it to be?

Here are some intentional choices I’m making that might be helpful to you:

• I’m being mentored by others through reading books, listening to podcasts, and asking questions of people I know. It’s expanding my mind. Arthur Brooks has an excellent book, “From Strength to Strength,” for those seeking purpose in the second half of our lives. It’s a must-read.

• I’m laying aside things that have no lasting value. I’ve decided I’m okay with being late to the party on the latest binge-able streaming show. You have to give up certain things to make time for what is more important.

• I’m making myself useful. When I focus on my problems, it’s like climbing down into a dark hole and sitting there by myself. One of the best antidotes I’ve found is being helpful to others! Each week, I meet with at least one person to see how I might add value to them. It’s highly therapeutic, AND it helps others.

Am I perfect at this? Not at all. However, no matter your age or life situation, you have the potential to make choices that can improve your life. If you are not satisfied with where you are, don’t be OK with the status quo. Make a different choice this week!

See you next Sunday.

P.S. The Authentic Purpose Cohort starts soon! If you’re ready to learn and live your purpose with a small group of like-minded leaders, just reply to this email or DM me, and I’ll get in touch.

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Listen here.

Dr. John Imhoff founded the Industrial Engineering department at the University of Arkansas. I had the privilege of having him for more than one class. Many of us have fond memories of “Dr. I" as he had a deep passion for mentoring students. He was focused on adding value to us through his many years of experience. Dr. Imhoff repeated phrases that stuck in your head. One that I'll never forget was a paraphrase of Proverbs 4:7 from the Bible:

With all thy getting get understanding.

This has come to mind more than once as I've made the mistake of assuming others' intent without first seeking to understand where they are coming from.

We often tell ourselves stories about what a person’s motives are based on a single interaction, text, email, or social media post. This is especially true when you think about one generation judging another. What if, instead of making assumptions, we first sought to understand? What if generational differences became a strength rather than something to endure?

I recently read a book called “A New Kind of Diversity.” In it, Tim Elmore explains the forces that shaped each generation. He also gives the reader a better appreciation for the strengths and opportunities each has. At my former company, this discussion spawned a multi-generational book club in which Gen X, Millennials, and Gen Z are all learning from each other. It’s powerful to see how understanding can change perspectives.

I encourage you to seek understanding with those you encounter this week. Ask open-ended questions. Listen to the answers. Repeat back what you heard. Course correct as needed. I’m thankful for Dr. Imhoff’s investment in my life, and I’m hopeful to follow his example in impacting others for as long as I have breath.

See you next Sunday.

P.S. The Authentic Purpose Cohort starts soon! Reply to this email and I’ll tell you more.

If you enjoyed this post, the best compliment I could receive would be for you to share it with one other person. Thank you.

In March, I had the opportunity to attend my 4th International Maxwell Leadership Conference (IMC) in Dallas. I was first certified as a coach in 2023, and I keep going back because it makes me better. I wanted to share a few lessons that stuck out to me from that special week:

• “Be the one to embrace hard” (CEO Mark Cole). Mark kicked off the conference with a series of “be the one” statements. This one hit home. It made me think about how I want to default to the easy button. That somewhere along the way, we can fall into the trap of thinking that the purpose of our lives is to work until we retire and then slide safely into a life of comfort. I’ve had seasons of embracing hard. In fact, I’m pretty hard on myself most days. But I think this is different. We weren’t made for comfort. We were made for a purpose. I believe everyone reading this has a great purpose to live for that will impact others. It’s the idea of embracing hard and pursuing it that is changing my life day by day.

• “Failure is not a garment, so stop wearing it like one!” —John Maxwell. John talked a lot about keeping failure and success together because they soften each other. Your highs aren’t as high, and your lows are so low. As humans, we screw things up regularly. The difference between a good miss and a bad miss is how we respond to failure. If we choose to learn from failure, it’s a good miss. If we choose to wallow in it, then it’s a bad miss. As I’m talking to people about an upcoming Authentic Purpose Cohort, some say “yes” while others say “no.” If I take the nos personally, I can’t learn from them.
  

• “If you have a finish line to your life, when you cross it, you’re finished!” — John Maxwell. This message resonated with me. I think most view retirement as a finish line. I don’t personally believe in retirement. I don’t ever want to stop making an impact and do nothing. John emphasized that we’re supposed to die while moving, not waiting. If you’re not happy where you are now, you won’t be happy where you are going. Living with the anticipation that you’re about to help someone else with what you’re doing will change the way you see your life.

• Hands down, the best part of IMC is the people. This is my friend Remus from Romania. He’s a former truck driver who started his own successful transportation company. The most impressive thing about him isn’t his financial success, but his desire to serve others. He’s traveled to Papua New Guinea, Argentina, and Panama to teach Maxwell leadership principles to leaders in these countries. More than anything, he’s just a really good guy. I didn’t expect this, but he’s fluent in Spanish and encouraged me to pick it up again. Remus, you wear that hat well, my friend.

• I met this gentleman at breakfast one morning. We’re eating scrambled eggs and toast when I asked what brought him to the IMC. I expected him to say that he was a tech leader or something like that. He tells me he’s the Chief of Spinal Neurosurgery at the University of Louisville. Wow! Such a humble guy. I got to share my story of surviving brain surgery and how thankful I am for his profession. He was at the conference because he is in charge of training doctors at his hospital and wants to incorporate John Maxwell’s principles. Oh, and his first name is…wait for it…Maxwell. I got to introduce him to my other doctor friend, Amanda, on the last day.

• This is my buddy Michael Humphrey from Tennessee. We share the same coach. He’s a former Marine who worked in tech until he, like me, decided to make a pivot into full-time coaching. We’ve encouraged each other on this journey as we both started around the same time. We need other people to help us see what we could be, not stay where we currently are. He’s that kind of dude. And this tough guy, who can probably bench 400 lbs with one arm, is also a children’s book author. Pick up Maya’s Special Backpack and read it to your kids and grandkids. It’s dedicated to his daughter.

• And last but not least, these are my friends Tom and Tonya Telesco. They’ve been with Maxwell Leadership teaching faculty since the organization started. Tom is my coach who has introduced me to so many great people and continues to make my transition to coaching a reality through his constant encouragement. I’m so grateful for him. Yes, coaches need their own coach!

I want to leave you with some encouragement. If you don’t like where your life is headed right now, you can choose a different way. There is more to life than sliding safely into comfort. I’m excited for how the Authentic Purpose Cohort is going to help people identify and live out their unique purpose and the impact they were meant to have on the world. Reply to this email, and I’ll tell you more.

See you next Sunday.

If you enjoyed this post, the best compliment I could receive would be for you to share it with one other person. Thank you.

My first video post!

We cover 2 topics:

1) Patrick Stewart’s biography “Making it So” and how he learned the search for “perfect” results in getting the opposite.

2) The Authentic Purpose Cohort is starting in June. I’m fired up!

Let me know what you think about the video. I do want to know.

See you next Sunday.

If you enjoyed this post, the best compliment I could receive would be for you to share it with one other person. Thank you.

Last Thursday, I stood on the most iconic overlook in Arkansas with my wife of 34 years: Hawksbill Crag. It is the most photographed spot in Arkansas. Tim Ernst, a famed Arkansas photographer, has taken the best pictures of it. I’ve lived in this state my entire life and had never been there.

It was 65 degrees and sunny, the day after a spring rainstorm. We had the place almost to ourselves. The locals told us that weekends bring hundreds of people to this overlook. We pulled into the parking lot at 1:30 PM and counted five cars.

Susanna loves views and sunsets. She also loves sunrises, but I don’t think I’ll get her back here at 5 a.m. anytime soon (I can’t blame her. The girl loves her sleep!).

We stood on the Crag and took it all in. We swapped phones with a couple of hikers and got some great pictures. Then we started the hike back. It’s only 1.5 miles each way. However, we preceded this adventure with burgers and fries at the Low Gap Cafe in Jasper, which made it feel more like ten (it was so worth it).

I probably would not have taken a day like this five years ago. Heck, I might not have done it two years ago. For 31 years in corporate, taking advantage of a perfect Thursday to enjoy nature wasn’t an option. It was a workday. People were counting on me. I had stuff to get done.

I’ll share a memory I’m not proud of.

Years ago, on a family vacation at the beach, I’d get up before everyone else to answer emails. I told myself that my input was too important and my team needed me. I thought I was staying “caught up.”

Here’s what actually happened. I started my vacation day mentally transported back to work, while Susanna and Sarah were waking up, excited to get to the beach. And I left my poor team wondering why I’d gone on vacation if I was gonna be on my computer all morning (there’s another post on hiring great people you trust to get the work done without you, but I’ll leave that for another week).

I don’t share that story to beat myself up. We all make mistakes. I share it because if you’re reading this and you’re still in the season I was in, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

You’re “getting ahead.” You’re “staying close to the business.” You’re “making sure things don’t fall through the cracks.” This kind of mindset is expensive in the toll it exacts on your life.

I’m four months out of corporate now. I don’t have this season all figured out. But I see something more clearly than I could from inside the bubble of work: Thursdays like that don’t come back. Your work is important. But it shouldn’t come at the cost of giving away your best days.

I wonder what you're saying yes to at work this week that’s costing you memories that matter? Look at the weather. Pick a beautiful day. Take the PTO. Get outside with someone you love. Work will be there when you get back.

See you next Sunday.

If you enjoyed this post, the best compliment I could receive would be for you to share it with one other person. Thank you.

I was at my desk this morning working on my book when I caught myself smiling about yesterday.

Saturday started out as an ordinary day. I was typing at this same desk when Susanna walked in with her coffee.

“Would you like to go on a walk today?”

Around 10 AM, we set out with our dog Charlie and headed toward the small lake near our house. The sun was out. Mid-70s and no humidity. This is arguably the best time of the year in Arkansas. Charlie made a few new friends at the dog park. Susanna and I talked the whole way there and the whole way back. Thirty-five years married, and I still love being in her presence.

It was a nothing-planned day. And it was the best day.

This morning I sat back from my keyboard and thought: I’m living in the good days right now. Thank you, God.

I almost missed it.

Someone asked me at coffee recently about what habits get me unstuck. What helped me start defining success and joy on my own terms, rather than someone else’s. Over the next few Sundays, I’m going to walk through them, one at a time.

I’m starting with gratitude. It’s the one that changed everything else.

In the fall of 2022, I started most mornings the same way. I’d pray. I’d thank God for the day before. I’d write down a few things I was grateful for.

Some days, the entries were big. Most days, they were small.

Here are some notes from one of those weeks when I first started this practice:

Monday: I published my first blog post on Substack yesterday. I also got a great workout in as the sun was coming up.

Tuesday: I grabbed coffee with a struggling friend. I made a difference simply by listening to him.

Wednesday: Yesterday was a tough day at work. So… I’m glad I woke up. (Some days, the things you’re thankful for are smaller. That’s fine.)

Thursday: Today was much better. It’s amazing what a good night of sleep will do. The issues that seemed insurmountable yesterday? I made progress on them today.

Friday: Sadie is my faithful companion in the mornings. She loves to be at my side. (If you have a dog, you know.)

That week looked like every other week. Some good, some hard, some in between. The difference was that I was paying attention.

You might think this sounds corny. I get it. I would have rolled my eyes at this five years ago.

The science isn’t corny.

Researchers at Indiana University asked one group of people to write gratitude letters and another group to do nothing. Three months later, they put both groups in a brain scanner. The gratitude writers showed lasting changes in the medial prefrontal cortex — the part of the brain tied to emotion regulation and social connection.

Three months after they stopped writing.

This practice rewires you. Mine got rewired in about six months.

Here’s what I think happens, sitting on this side of two and a half years of doing it.

You can’t change most of what’s coming at you. The bad day at work. The family stuff. The news. Your knees are cracking and popping more than they used to. Life is going to keep being life.

But where your attention goes is your choice.

When you spend two minutes every morning writing down what you’re thankful for, you train your eyes to look for it. By Tuesday afternoon, you start noticing the good things without trying. By month three, your defaults shift. The hard days are still hard. They just don’t take your attention anymore.

And here’s the part I didn’t expect.

Once your attention isn’t stuck on yourself (your problems, your worries, your stuck-ness), you have something left to give other people. You hear them better. You show up better. You become useful in a way you weren’t before.

That’s where the magic is. Not in the journal. In what being intentionally grateful frees you up to do for everybody else.

If you want to try it, here’s the whole thing:

Tomorrow morning, before you touch your phone, write down three things you were grateful for yesterday.

That’s it. Don’t make it long. Just three things. Even if one of them is “I woke up.”

Do it for a week and see what happens. If nothing changes, you’re out two minutes a day. You would have spent your time scrolling on your phone anyway.

If something changes (I’m betting it will), we’ll keep talking next Sunday about the next habit.

I almost missed how great Saturday was. The walk. Charlie. My wife next to me. The lake. The sun.

It was already a great day. I just needed eyes to see it.

You’ve got days like that this week. Maybe today.

Don’t miss them.

See you next Sunday.

P.S. If you missed it, here’s a link to a recent masterclass I did called
Why your success feels empty. Check it out.

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I don’t normally send mid-week notes. This is a short one.

Today, I went live on Substack and walked through a shortened version of a masterclass I taught in March. The full version was an hour. Twenty-five people in the room. A few stories I’m still thinking about.

I’ll tell you about two of them.

Shauna told us about her old job. She rated it a 2 out of 5. Just enough to keep showing up, not enough to feel anything. Then COVID hit, and she lost her job. She told us losing that job was the best thing that ever happened to her. She’s thriving now, in work that actually fits who she is.

Then there was Nigel, a leader from Canada who was on a mission trip to Zambia. The first morning, he was frustrated by something most of us would be — there was no hot water. Later that day, he saw something that changed how he saw his own life.

I keep thinking about those two stories. They had nothing to do with promotions, titles, income, or “getting ahead.” They were about the moment a person stops measuring their life by what the world celebrates and starts measuring it by what actually fits them.

That’s what the masterclass is really about.

If you want to watch the full hour: Shauna and Nigel in their own words, the framework I walked everyone through, and a couple of moments I won’t try to summarize, here’s the recording:

Watch the full masterclass →

If something in those two stories sounds like you, that’s not an accident.

See you on Sunday.

“You'll never see a U-Haul behind a hearse. I don't care how much money you have or what level of notoriety you've achieved; you can't take any of it with you.”
—Denzel Washington

A few years ago, my boss reminded the team to use our vacation time. Under our PTO policy, you stop accruing once you hit 150% of your annual total. One colleague — the one with the most time banked — pumped his fist and said, “Yes, I win!”

I laughed. But the image that immediately came to mind wasn’t a trophy. It was that U-Haul that Denzel mentioned.

You know this in your mind, but do your actions show that you can’t take any of it with you? Not the vacation days, the 401k, the lake house, or the record collection. And yet, for much of my life, I didn’t stop to think about that. I was too busy chasing things I thought would bring fulfillment.

Author David Brooks draws a distinction between resume virtues and eulogy virtues. Resume virtues are what we talk about in life — where we work, what we’ve accomplished, the trophies on the shelf. Eulogy virtues are what gets said when we’re gone — who we were, how we loved, the relationships that defined our time here.

I spent a long time building the resume. Now I’m trying to build the eulogy.

That shift is what I mean when I think about legacy. Not what you leave in a will, but what you leave in people.

I think about my high school band director, Pat Ellison. She was relentless about excellence — her bands won every top award — but what made her special wasn’t the trophies. It was the way she cared for her students. She saw things in us we couldn’t see in ourselves, and she went out of her way, year after year, to show us that we mattered.1

That is legacy. That is the stuff of significance.

Actress Viola Davis captured it in her tribute to Cicely Tyson:

“There is a cap on earthly success, a ceiling on the amount of joy that possessions and awards can bring before disillusionment sets in. Our appearance, our prosperity, the applause: all of it is so fleeting. But a life of true significance has unlimited impact. It is measured in how well we’ve loved those around us, how much we’ve given away, how many seeds we’ve sown along our path.”

Pat Ellison passed away in 2021. She remains one of my heroes.2

Do you want your life to have unlimited impact? There’s won’t be a trailer hitch on the back of your hearse. Cast off what doesn’t matter and start building your legacy now.

See you next Sunday.

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Then she stepped back and asked a harder question:

Who am I when the achievement stops?

What she’s learned since is what this conversation is about. You can work hard, go after big things, and not lose yourself to them. Achievement can be something you do, not something you are.

In this discussion, Amanda opens up about:

• The moment she realized her resume was hiding the most important parts of her story

• What she tells her three boys every morning before the day starts

• The lie that high performers believe, and the line that finally set her free

• Why stepping into and out of achievement is the real definition of power

If you’ve ever wondered whether there’s a way to keep showing up at a high level without paying for it with your peace, the next 40 minutes are for you.

P.S. Today is my dad’s 89th birthday. We’re celebrating Hamdy Taha and the miracle that he is. Drop a comment on this post, and I’ll share it with him.

If you enjoyed this post, the best compliment I could receive would be for you to share it with one other person. Thank you.

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Shame, boatloads of shame
Day after day, more of the same
Blame, please lift it off
Please take it off, please make it stop
”Shame” - The Avett Brothers

For 30 years, my mornings looked the same.

5 AM. Coffee. Workout. Devotional time. Shower and dress. Drive to work. Sit down at my desk and open my calendar. Meetings stacked back-to-back. Deliverables with someone else’s deadline.

I didn’t have to decide what mattered that day. Someone else had already decided for me.

Then I took an early buyout from my corporate job to focus on coaching and writing full-time. And a few weeks in, I woke up at 6 AM, opened my calendar, and stared at a whole lot of nothing.

No meetings. No boss. No structure.

I thought that feeling would be exciting. It wasn’t. It was terrifying.

I’m generally an optimistic person, a “glass half full” kind of dude. But that blank calendar was messing with my head. What if I waste the whole day? What if I don’t get anything done?

I’ll be honest, those first several weeks, I didn’t sleep great. But I’ve learned a few things since then, and I want to share them with you.

When you’re staring at a problem you don’t know how to solve, you have three choices:

1. Blame others. Blame your job for making you dependent on structure. Blame your boss. Blame the system. This solves absolutely nothing. It just provides excuses so you don’t have to think about the real issue in front of you.

2. Focus on your shortcomings. Tell yourself you should have figured this out already. You’re behind. Other people handle this just fine. Why can’t you figure it out in a couple of months? This approach is like punching yourself in the face over and over. It won’t move you forward. It just confirms every fear you already had.

3. Or ask yourself: “What is this situation asking of me?” What am I being called to grow into? What new skills do I need to build? That, my friends, is a question worth asking.

The blank calendar wasn’t a threat. It was an invitation to a new life. For 30 years, someone else had been designing my days. This new situation was asking me to learn how to design my own. Of course, I didn’t know how to do it yet. It’s just a skill I hadn’t needed to develop until now. Now I have the opportunity to build those muscles.

I also noticed something else.

If I want to work out at 10 in the morning, I can. If Susanna and I want to hop on our bikes at 2 on a Tuesday afternoon, we can. The only have-tos on my list are the ones I’ve put there. That kind of freedom is invigorating.

C.S. Lewis said,

“There are far better things ahead than any we leave behind.”

I like his perspective. What we focus on expands. Why not focus on a positive outcome?

Choice #3 doesn’t make the challenge disappear. The blank calendar was still blank. The uncertainty was still real. But it shifted my posture from victim to owner. And an owner can get better every day.

You’re going to face something this week that doesn’t have an easy answer. Maybe it’s a close relationship that’s struggling. Perhaps you got a bad report from the doctor. A work initiative that went south. A college class project with a looming deadline and deadbeat teammates.

Before you blame someone else or beat yourself up, ask the question.

What is this situation asking of me?

You’re capable of rising to the occasion and becoming who you need to be in order to meet those challenges. I’m cheering for you.

P.S. This Friday at 1:30 PM CST, I will be talking to about how high performers can avoid the trap of tying their identity to their performance. It’s our first Substack live. Here’s the link. Do join us!

If you enjoyed this post, the best compliment I could receive would be for you to share it with one other person. Thank you.

A few days ago, I sent a text to some friends who had retired from the same company before I did. My question was, “How long did it take you to stop thinking about our company?” I have been struggling recently with how to hold my old career in one hand and my new career in the other.

One friend just called me instead of texting me back. He told me about an earlier part of his career, when stock awards would vest each summer. Around the office, the mantra was always the same: “June’s coming!” The money would roll in (and you probably already had it earmarked for something), but then what was next? Well, NEXT June is always coming.

Looking back, he said it was like wishing huge buckets of time away in the prime of your life. Waiting for the next thing. The next arrival point. But the longer you live, the more you realize that the one thing you can never get back is time.

I left my 30-year corporate career three months ago. It was my choice. They wanted me to stay. But I decided that pursuing a dream of building a leadership coaching practice was worth it.

What I didn’t expect was the identity crisis.

Maybe I’m being dramatic, but I don’t mean to be. But when you’re that tied to an organization, to a title, to a routine, to a place, your identity gets woven into all of it. You don’t realize how much until you’re standing in your home office on a Tuesday afternoon at 2 pm, wondering what your old teammates are up to.

I realized that I’ve been walking around with one foot in the old identity and one foot in the new. And if you’ve ever tried that, you know it doesn’t really work. It just leaves you unsettled.

Last week, I had the privilege to speak to around 80 college students on two campuses about taking responsibility for their future success. These are students who’ve spent 16+ years being measured by letter grades, and now many of them are worried about getting jobs in a tough market. Will the investment pay off? Will they be able to support a family one day? Was the degree worth it?

What hit me was this: they’re at the very beginning of a cycle I just stepped off of. Graduation. Job. Marriage. House. Kids. Retirement. Each one feels like an arrival. Each one promises that when you get there, you can rest in comfort.

But that ends up being an empty promise. I can tell you from experience. You get there, and you start looking for the next thing. That’s the thing nobody tells you. Having achievement goals isn’t the issue. The problem is believing that who you are is defined by what you do.

So what changed for me? Honestly, it was that 15-minute call with my friend. Hearing someone a little further down the road say, “Yeah, I still think about it too.” There was something freeing about that. I wasn’t crazy. I was just human.

Here’s the blessing. After that call, something shifted. Very simply, I felt permission to move on. I just felt God giving me the space to truly embrace this new adventure and go after it. To stop looking back at who I was and start becoming who I’m supposed to be.

Whether you’ve recently left a career that defined you for decades or you’re a college student who is about to walk across the stage in May, the challenge is the same. Be intentional about letting go of the old identity. The one built on titles, grades, org charts, or someone else’s measuring stick. Embrace the season you’re actually in, not the one you just left.

And do not try to figure it out alone. I’m not. I have my own coach. Find those people. Mentors. Friends who are a few steps ahead. People who’ve been where you are and can tell you the truth: it’s hard, it takes longer than you think, and it’s worth it.

Your life is full of necessary endings. They feel like losses in the moment, and some of them are. But every necessary ending is also a door. You just have to be willing to walk through it.

Give yourself permission to become someone new. That’s not quitting who you were. That’s getting excited for what’s next.

Thank you, Steve, for that phone call.

See you next Sunday.

P.S. I want to welcome new readers from Harding University and the University of Arkansas! Glad you joined us.

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I wrote a version of this blog in 2024. I’ve updated it for today because I still think it’s relevant. That and I just ate a healthy dog from Trader Joe’s. I hope you enjoy it.

We were driving up to Kansas City recently and stopped for gas. I had always seen the hot dog display at gas stations, but for some reason, it caught my eye more than usual today. I mean, we all know they are bad for you, but who isn’t tempted by the sight and smell of cooking hot dogs, especially a jalapeno cheddar smoked sausage? Throw on spicy mustard, ketchup, relish, and go for it. Or maybe you’re waiting for the pork chile verde taquito to roll past the “still cooking” sign to experience the best that QuikTrip has to offer.

I wonder if any of you are like me. Do you ever feel like one of these poor hot dogs? Year after year passes, life spins you around and around, and you get more and more cooked the older you get.

Yeah, but Tarek, I love life on the roller! I don’t have to make decisions! I roll out of bed, roll to work, roll home, roll to the couch to watch Netflix, then roll to bed, and do it again and again...

I get it. Because I lived a long time on the roller. I just didn’t realize it.

Once a year, I was scrolling through old annual performance reviews on my computer. I keep digital copies of all of them, going back years. I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe I thought they’d help me measure progress, or I’d spot some recurring theme that would be a big unlock for me.

Here’s what I actually found: the phrase “great job” showing up over and over again. Year after year. Great job, Tarek. Exceeds expectations. Strong performer.

And basically zero constructive feedback.

Now, before you think I’m complaining about getting good reviews, hear me out. That’s not the point. The point is that “great job” with nothing to work on is the corporate version of the hot dog roller. You’re spinning. You’re warm. Everything looks fine from the outside.

But you’re not growing. You’re cooking. And maybe getting a bit overdone on the inside.

I had been so assimilated into the rhythm of corporate life that I mistook motion for progress. Every year looked like the one before it. Same type of goals. Same type of feedback. Same comfortable temperature. I didn’t notice because nothing hurt. Nobody was telling me that something was wrong. In fact, they were telling me the opposite.

That’s the thing about the roller. It doesn’t feel like a trap. It feels like we’ve arrived.

When I looked at those reviews side by side, spanning years of my career, I couldn’t tell them apart. If you shuffled them and removed the dates, the work details might be different, but I wouldn’t know which year was which.

That should bother anyone. It bothered me.

I started asking myself an uncomfortable question: When was the last time I was actually challenged? Not busy. Not productive. Challenged. When was the last time someone looked me in the eye and said, “Here’s where you need to get better”?

I couldn’t remember.

And that’s when it hit me. The absence of discomfort wasn’t a sign that I had arrived. It was a sign that I had stopped moving and, in reality, was moving in reverse.

I think a lot of us are on the roller right now and don’t realize it. You’re getting the positive feedback. You’re hitting your numbers. People respect you. Your calendar is full. You’re comfortable.

None of those things means you’re growing.

I’m not going to give you a 3-step framework to fix this. I don’t think that’s what this needs. What I will say is this: if you went back through the last 3 to 5 years of your life, your reviews, your goals, your routines, could you tell the years apart?

Be honest with yourself.

If the answer makes you uncomfortable, good. That discomfort is telling you something. Don’t ignore it like I did for too long.

The great news is that your future is entirely in your control. You can escape the roller and make an impact on the world you were created for. I’m cheering for you.

See you next Sunday.

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Picture a gym at an elementary school. Twenty adults are standing around the room. Kids are coming in 20 at a time. Each one walks up to a stranger, shakes their hand, introduces themselves, and tries to hold an adult conversation. Multiple conversations are going on at once, loud, tall adults leaning down to talk to fifth graders: the most committed ones dressed like they’re heading to a job interview.

This is The Amazing Shake, a competition that schools around the country now host. The idea is straightforward: teach kids the professional skills most adults assume you just pick up somewhere along the way. A firm handshake. Eye contact. How to talk with someone you’ve never met. My friend Ryan invited me to judge the local version at Grimes Elementary, a few miles from my house. Around 70 kids participated that day.

It was one of the best things I’ve done in a long time.

After the first round, we were invited back to judge the five finalists. This was a small room with breakfast. The kids were expected to navigate eating and having adult conversations. These weren’t just good kids. They were the best of the best. The top two from this group would get to interview the superintendent on a talk show-style program the next week.

We went around the room, and each kid answered the same question: what do you want to be when you grow up?

Cole wanted to be a baseball player and make a lot of money. Dicardo wanted to be a drop shipper. An 11-year-old. Drop shipping. He had clearly thought this through and had parents who were feeding his confidence and an entrepreneurial streak. I love that. Olivia wanted to be a counselor so she could help people dealing with mental health challenges. She clearly has a heart that wants to serve others.

And then there was Nicole.

She went last. She took a breath and said she wanted to be an artist. Painting specifically. She talked about following famous painters and studying their work. Here’s what struck me.

Even though several of the other answers had a clear monetary “success” attached to them, she didn’t glance around the room to see if everyone else approved. She just said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

That’s the thing about kids. They haven’t been assimilated yet. No one has told Nicole that “artist” is a risky answer, that she should have a backup plan, or that she might want to consider something more practical. She just knows what she loves, and she said it out loud to a room full of strangers.

Somewhere between grade school and adulthood, we start reading the room before we answer. We learn to give the acceptable answer, the sensible answer, the answer that won’t raise eyebrows. And over time, we forget what we actually think.

I heard Tony Robbins say, “When you’re in your head, you’re dead.”

So what can this mean? It’s the habit of editing yourself before you open your mouth. Telling yourself your real answer is too weird, too risky, too different from what everyone else is saying. So you give the safe answer. And you keep giving safer ones until you can’t remember who you really are.

You were wired a certain way for a reason — to use your natural gifts to impact the world for good. Nicole painting and studying great artists isn’t a lesser path than being an entrepreneur, counselor, or playing baseball. It’s her path. And she knows that at 11 years old. I hope there are people around her who will never let her lose her dream.

What’s one thing you’ve pushed down so that your life could feel “safe”?

I’ll see you next Sunday.

P.S. If you haven’t been inside an elementary school lately, call the one closest to your house this week. Ask what volunteer opportunities they have. You don’t need a special skill. You just need to be available. I guarantee you’ll be better for it.

Why your success feels empty (and what to do about it). Sign up HERE.

If you enjoyed this post, the best compliment I could receive would be for you to share it with one other person. Thank you.

A colleague said something to me on one of my last days at work:

“Well, Tarek, if it doesn’t work out, you’ve got a great resume and can always go get a job somewhere else.”

I’d just told him I was leaving the company I’d been at for 21 years. Not for another company. Not for a bigger title or a better package. I was leaving to build something of my own. A leadership coaching practice. Something I wanted to do for a long time.

He wasn’t being mean. He was trying to be helpful. Except he wasn’t really helpful.

What he was really saying was: “This is weird, and you’re making a mistake.” He couldn’t wrap his head around someone walking away before the “approved” retirement age. The normal path is pretty straightforward: earn all you can, grind until you’re 65, then do what you want. I followed that playbook for most of my career.

When you start making moves that don’t fit the script, the dream killers show up. They’re at family dinners. They’re in the hallway at work. They come disguised as reasonable people with reasonable concerns.

“Come on, man, be realistic.”

“How are you going to pay your bills?”

“Maybe you should wait until...”

“I knew someone who tried coaching, and they had to get a new job.”

It’s not really about you. When you step outside the lines, you hold up a mirror to their lives. Your decision to go after something more reminds them of what they haven’t done. When someone says “be realistic,” they’re saying, “I was too scared to try, and I need you to stay here so I’ll feel better about my life.”

Their limits will not be your legacy unless you let them.

I’m not going to pretend that leaving was easy. Pivoting after two decades of doing one thing was uncomfortable. But it’s also the most alive I’ve felt in years. There’s a difference between comfort and living, and I spent too long confusing the two.

What about you? Is there something you’ve been sitting on because the people around you wouldn’t understand? A business idea, a career change, a completely different way of living? Have you talked yourself out of it because the dream killers made their case sound so responsible?

Here’s what I know. You don’t need everyone in your life to believe in your dream. But you need some people who will support you.

I call it upgrading your people. People who’ve built something, risked something, changed something. Not cheerleaders. People who will ask you hard questions and then tell you to keep going. I found mine in an online coaching community, and it changed my trajectory. These are the people who remind me that the discomfort I’m feeling isn’t a warning sign. It’s a sign that I’m growing.

You don’t have to blow up your life tomorrow. But you do have to stop letting other people’s fear set the boundaries for what you’re allowed to do.

The dream killers don’t show up for small dreams. If no one’s raising an eyebrow at what you’re doing, you’re probably not dreaming big enough.

What’s one step you can take this week toward the thing you’ve been putting off? One conversation. One phone call. One decision to stop waiting for permission. Maybe you just start by listening to a podcast that will open your mind to people who think much better than you.

You were made for more than grinding it out until someone tells you it’s OK to do something different.

I believe in you. See you next Sunday.

I’m hosting a free masterclass on Tuesday, March 24th at 6 PM CST called “Why Your Success Feels Empty (and what to do about it).” I’d love to see you on the call! Here’s a link to sign up.

If you enjoyed this post, the best compliment I could receive would be for you to share it with one other person.

I’m hosting a masterclass tomorrow that I’d love for you to join. 12 PM EST / 11 AM CST.

The details are in the video.

Here’s the link:

[LINK] Why your success feels empty (and what to do about it)

I hope to see you tomorrow!

After 30 years in corporate leadership, emergency brain surgery changed everything for me. I now help people stop performing and start living with purpose. I’m sharing more in a free masterclass this Tuesday at 12 PM Eastern. In 60 minutes, you'll walk away knowing exactly why achievement alone isn't working and what to build instead. If this would add value to you, please click this link to sign up. I would love to see you on the call!

“For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he…” Proverbs 23:7

Confession time. There was a period in the 90s when People Magazine came to our home. I have no idea why. Well, actually, I do. I’m to blame. Perhaps I was flipping through a magazine in a doctor’s office and found a free 6-month subscription card. Why did I want to read People? It was an escape —getting out of the day-to-day grind and thinking about how the other half lives (Note: Tom Cruise looks the same today as he did in the 90s! Weird.)

I know. You don’t have to say it. I can’t get that time back. Left to my own devices, I gravitate toward whatever is easy. It’s easy for me to binge-watch Seinfeld to watch Jerry and Neumann go at it. Or scroll through Instagram and get caught up in the “perfect” lives of others — watching them get just the right selfie angle to show their best side or humble-bragging about their perfect family. Or perhaps you’ve been caught up in the 24-hour news cycle and are constantly angry about the latest outrage in our strange political landscape.

I read this quote recently, and it hit me between the eyes:

What you give your attention to is the person you become.
-John Mark Comer

Stop and read that again. Whatever you choose to give your attention to is who you will become. Perhaps it’s who you already are. Your habits are perfectly designed to deliver your current results.

I no longer read People Magazine. Well, not that I’ll admit. There are lots of things I’ve done that I regret paying attention to. I wish I had read more books that would have caused me to think and grow earlier in life.1 Every time I read a new book, I get mentored by an author I’ll likely never meet. I may agree or disagree with what I read, but I won’t finish a book and remain the same person.

I have one big takeaway for you today.

YOU get to decide who you want to become.

If you’ve been paying attention to things that take you away from your ideal self, it’s not too late. As the Chinese proverb says, the best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago; the second-best time is now. Make it an impactful week!

If you enjoyed this post, the best compliment I could receive would be for you to share it with one other person.

I hung up the Zoom call and just sat there.

It was my first real conversation with a potential coaching client. I walked him through the program, laid out how I thought it could help him reach his goals, and he said what most reasonable people say: “Let me talk to my wife and get back to you.”

Totally fair. I would have said the exact same thing.

But the voice in my head didn’t care about that. It went straight to: Tarek, you missed something. You screwed it up. You should have framed it differently. I replayed the whole conversation over and over, looking for every part I got wrong.

Here’s the truth: two months ago, I walked away from a 30-year corporate career. My choice. I took an early buyout because I wanted to build something of my own, a leadership coaching practice built around helping people discover and live out their purpose. I believed in it enough to leave behind a dependable paycheck.

What I didn’t expect was how fast I’d feel like a complete amateur.

And I mean that in the most specific way. In my old world, I knew the game. I knew what success looked like. I knew how to read the politics of a situation, navigate the room, and perform to expectations. After three decades, there were few surprises.

Now? I’m evaluating every Zoom call like game film after a loss.

The irony is not lost on me. I spend my time helping others get clarity on their purpose and moving toward it with confidence. And after that call, my own confidence was close to zero. Not because I don’t believe I can help that person. I know I can.

It’s the uncomfortable feeling of jumping off a perfectly good boat into deep waters.

A few days ago, I hit a wall and knew something had to change. Productivity was low, my head was foggy, and grinding through it wasn’t working. So I stopped. I did a 45-minute Peloton ride (longer than my usual 30), lifted some weights, and then drove over to have lunch with my dad.

My dad is 88 (he keeps rounding up to 89 even though I tell him not to!). Every Wednesday, he makes us a great lunch. We ate, talked, and went for a walk together. It was 70 degrees and sunny, and for a couple of hours, I wasn’t thinking about my new business. I was just grateful to be with my dad.

And that’s when I realized the fog had lifted.

So what’s my point?

When you feel out of sorts, don’t just grind harder. Change something. Get out of the house. Go to a coffee shop, put on some headphones, and work from somewhere new. Encourage someone you care about. Take the longer ride. Go see your dad.

Clear the fog first. Then get back to work.

Bronnie Ware is a palliative care nurse who spent years with patients in their final weeks of life. She documented the most common regrets people shared before they died. The number one regret?

“I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.”

Not “I wish I’d worked more.” Not “I wish I’d played it safer.”

They wished they’d been brave enough to try.

I have a friend who is learning Spanish. Mandy and her family travel to Peru regularly to serve at the Esperanza School, which serves children and families in crisis. She decided that “Spanglish” wasn’t enough, as she wants to connect deeply with the people they serve. So now she’s taking classes with a real professor, with tests and accountability. She’s serious about it. This wasn’t a casual decision. That’s someone who decided comfort was less important than impacting others.

I’m uncomfortable and figuring it out each day. But I can tell you that I’m not going back to the way I used to be.

You shouldn’t either.

See you next Sunday.

If you enjoyed this post, the best compliment I could receive would be for you to share it with someone else.

I'm building something I'm really excited about. It's called The Authentic Purpose Experience. It’s for successful leaders who've done everything right on paper but privately feel like they're just going through the motions. If no amount of vacation seems to recharge you, that's not a stress problem. That's a purpose problem. And it's fixable. DM me “PURPOSE”, and I’ll share more.

I often think in song lyrics. This one came back to me this week as I was thinking about this topic:

“Seems like I’m caught up in your trap again. Seems like I’ll be wearing the same old chains. Good will conquer evil and the truth will set me free. And I know someday I will find the key…”1

I remembered a time 22 years ago. I was a full decade into my first job out of college. And I was stuck in the mud.

I had experienced some success, but when a promotion fell through, I had convinced myself that was it. This was my life now. I’d ride it out until retirement because what other option did I have?

I was in my 30’s. I had a lot of life to live.

Looking back, I’m not sure where that limiting belief came from. Maybe it was because my family was comfortable. We had lots of friends. I felt like I would be letting them down if we moved.

But spouses know us all too well. Susanna knew I was miserable. She ran into a friend and was sharing my struggle with her.

Her response was exactly eight words:

“Why doesn’t Tarek just get a new job?”

When Susanna told me, I thought, “She doesn’t understand! I have too much responsibility at work. At church. I can’t leave!”

But the thought didn’t leave my head. And eventually it was like someone flipped on the lights in a dark room.

Why don’t I just get a new job?

I’m not in indentured servitude. I have the power to choose a different life.

Six months later (it took me a while!), I hired a resume service to refresh my resume. I became proud of the experience I had. I realized I had a lot to offer. I started reaching out to people I knew at other companies. Eventually, I landed a job at a company I had interned with previously.

I’ve written before about how we sometimes hold the keys to our own cage. We hire mental prison guards who keep us stuck in place. We tell ourselves stories about why we can’t change, and those stories start to feel like facts.

Or we blame larger forces: The systems are rigged. Political and economic forces are holding us down.

I get why some feel this way. Fill your mind with the news, and you’ll find reasons to believe you’re powerless. The economy. The job market. AI. It makes sense that some would conclude they don’t have much choice.

Don’t get me wrong, there are people in the world facing real oppression and poverty, things I’ve never had to deal with. But if you’re reading this, that’s likely not you.

I’m talking to the rest of us. We can pay our bills. We have internet access and enough breathing room to go out to eat, take vacations, and read blogs about personal growth.

Through some recent coaching conversations, I’ve noticed a pattern. I wasn’t alone. Some people look successful on paper but feel stuck on the inside:

One person said he’s on track for a VP role in a few years, but he’s not excited about it. He’s terrified. Once he gets there, he feels locked in for the next 20 years. His job pays the bills but has no ties to what lights him up. But the money is good, and the path is set for him.

Another described himself as “somewhat of a robot going through the motions.” He dreams of starting his own business, but there’s financial risk. He spent years counting every penny. Now that things are stable, he doesn’t want to go back, so he stays in a job that feels like “getting by” rather than living.

These aren’t people without options. They’re people who’ve convinced themselves those options aren’t available.

So here’s the one question I want you to sit with this week:

What are you waiting for permission to do?

Maybe it’s having the honest conversation with your boss about what you actually want. Maybe it’s applying for a job you think you’re not qualified for. Starting the business. Pivoting to something that lights you up, even if it means stepping off the comfortable path.

Maybe it’s smaller. Saying “no” to something that drains you. Saying “yes” to something that scares you. Being more yourself at work instead of performing for others.

Whatever it is, the permission you’re waiting for has to come from one person.

You.

I needed eight words from a friend to see what was right in front of me. Maybe this is your version of that moment.

You have more power to choose than you think. Use it.

I've been building something I'm really excited about. It's called The Authentic Purpose Experience. It’s for successful leaders who've done everything right on paper but privately feel like they're just going through the motions. If your spouse has ever looked at you and said, "You're not any fun anymore" (mine did), or if no amount of vacation seems to recharge you, that's not a stress problem. That's a purpose problem. And it's fixable. Reply or DM “PURPOSE” to this post, and I’ll share more.

If you enjoyed this post, the best compliment I could receive would be for you to share it with someone else. Thank you.

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A 32-year-old woman in Japan named Kano married her AI chatbot in October 2025. She exchanged rings with her smartphone. Guests watched. Her digital husband, “Lune Klaus”, was added to the wedding photos later.

When asked about it, Kano said she worried he could disappear at any time. “ChatGPT could shut down. He only exists because the system does.”

What the heck. Is this even real?

But this extreme example speaks to something deeper: we live in a world that promises connection through screens but can’t deliver it. A world where people can marry a fake person because it feels safer than the risk of marrying a real person.

God didn’t create you for that level of disconnection with reality.

A couple of weeks ago, I felt lonely. I’d just left my job of 21 years. Everybody else was going to work and moving on with their lives, without me. And I was sitting there feeling sorry for myself.

So I stopped scrolling. I sent voice texts to three people. Michael, a friend from my Bible study. Scott, a lifelong friend who lives in Florida. Joe, a friend going through a divorce. They weren’t long messages, but I said something like: “Hey, you’re on my mind. I wanted you to know I’m praying for you. I hope you have a wonderful day.”

You know what I got back?

“Tarek, thank you. You don’t know how much I needed that right now.”

My whole day shifted. I’m not kidding.

We were made for connection with real humans. The kind where you both show up for each other. Where you actually see people and let yourself be seen.

But most of us are waiting. Waiting for someone else to go first. Waiting for an invitation. Waiting for someone to notice we’re lonely or struggling. And we can get bitter in the process.

What if you stopped waiting for someone else to reach out? You can.

said it perfectly:

Go first.

Send a voice text (or a “text” text if that’s weird for you) to someone you haven’t talked to in a while. Not a “hey, what’s up” text. A real one. Let someone know you were thinking about them. That they matter.

Go first.

Make it your goal to make someone smile. Today. The person in line for coffee who looks miserable. The one with their head down. Strike up a conversation with them. Ask them how their day is going. Listen to their answer.

Go first.

Reach out to a friend who’s going through something really hard. Don’t wait for the perfect words. Just show up and let them know you care.

The point is this: we are made for real personal connection. Social media and AI chatbots promise what they can never deliver.

It changed my day when Michael, Scott, and Joe responded. It reminded me that I’m not alone. That I matter. That I can make a difference in someone else’s world. And that feels great.

It’s time to stop waiting. It’s time to stop feeling sorry for yourself.

Go first.

Be the friend to someone else that you wish you had.

Who needs to hear from you today?

👉I’m excited to launch the Authentic Purpose Mastermind for people who want to live on purpose instead of letting life happen to them. This is going to be a game-changing group experience! Just follow this link to set up a time with me, and I will tell you more.

If you enjoyed this post, the best compliment I could receive would be for you to share it with someone else. Thank you.

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