Yesterday, just before an afternoon that included a trip to the matinee, feeding ducks at the park, a trip to ice cream, and even more playtime with more cousins, we prepared. Mikayla, my cousins’ almost three-year-old daughter helped out. In a few moments, something became evident.

She ran.

She ran everywhere in the house.
She ran to get a blanket for her baby brother.
She ran to get to get a drink of water.
She ran to change out of her pajamas.

Later at the park, she ran.
She ran to the swings.
She ran to the ducks.
She ran to the slides.

Often times, her running combined with a call, “C’Mon (insert name of person she wanted to play with)!”

As I walked behind her (okay, I jogged a few times alongside her), I found myself admiring not only the energy, but also the approach.

I can’t remember the last time I ran for anything other than exercise. I can’t remember the last time I made a chore a quick task.

I think I tend to walk through life.

I’m not saying Mikayla always runs.
She definitely walked away from the park.
She definitely walked when it was time to say goodbye to her cousins.
She definitely walked to bedtime.

And that’s just it. She walked to a handful of things she didn’t want to do…

…and I find myself walking to things I love doing.

Are you walking or running through life?

I’m not saying we all need to begin a sprint. I think there is something to be said about enjoying the scenery, but I also believe there is something to be said about approaching life with some playful energy.

Are you just strolling through your days, or are you finding the ways to encourage those around you to “C’mon!”

I’ll try and put a little bounce in my step, Mikayla.

Thanks for the lesson!

But yesterday I was an idiot.

I did everything like I normally do. I made sure my house was completely settled, lights turned off, outlets unplugged, AC programmed to maximize energy savings.

I drove to the airport, found a spot nearest the shuttle stop, and caught the first shuttle. I put away my keys, prepped my traveler cards to bypass lines.

I checked my bag, picked up my ticket, bypassed a lot of security, and got to the x-ray station.

A quick note about good x-ray procedure. I always put my laptop bag first, followed by my laptop (allowing me to quickly place it back), and then my shoes and pocket materials. I got ready to unload my laptop, but…

…I had left it at home.

I’ve spent more than 80 days on the road for the past five years at least, and I’ve NEVER forgot my laptop, but I did yesterday.

I was so stunned I stared at my bag for several minutes thinking it might somehow appear. It didn’t. I had to have it for my speech tonight, so I simply walked back to the ticket counter and rebooked a ticket for a later flight.

The airline was super nice. Since my flight had already been booked, they waived the additional cost of the ticket. Still, I had to hop back on the shuttle, drive back to my house, grab it off the counter, and rinse and repeat the whole process again. A simple two second moment at home cost me over two hours in travel time.

I was lucky. I had scheduled an extra day on the front side of this trip to do a quick visit with family. If this had been a speaking engagement back east, I would have really suffered. Still, how in the world did I forget my laptop?

I think it was because I started worry about some of the smaller things. I sent off a few last second emails that I could have written at the airport. I decided to do a bit more of an extensive kitchen clean. I mailed off a few things that could have waited until my trip home. All the while I kept thinking, I’ll put the laptop in my bag in a moment. Unfortunately, that moment didn’t come until AFTER I had already been to the airport.

Are you doing this as well?

Are you preventing yourself from packing the “laptops” in your life?

Are you simply doing stuff versus doing the important things necessary for your success?

I still arrived at my destination last night, but my playtime with my cousins’ kids was reduced by my travel delay. Instead of driving back to my house to pick up that laptop, I could have been playing on the swings, or watching my cousins’ 5 month old son roll around on the ground.

Yesterday, I was an idiot.

I don’t plan on making that same mistake again.

I hope you don’t either

The summer is brutal.

This year has been even more difficult as the summer rains were incredibly delayed. The heat continued to rise, unchecked. That began to change last night and has been nicely reset today.

There’s an actual breeze and regular visits of raindrops. The sky may be cloudy, but the weather is so nice–easily 25-30+ degrees cooler than it was two days ago. All because a little rain came in.

It’s as if the rain gets us back on track.

Do you have some “rain” in your life? Do you have something that resets you when you steer off course or when you are getting out of hand? Do you listen to them or do you continue down a bad path, making the world uncomfortable for those around you?

If there isn’t someone in your life who does this, find someone. The summer rain makes life bearable during the Arizona Summer

After my speech on Monday, I sat in the hallway visiting with my friend (and incredible speaker), Cara Filler (seriously, you should consider hiring her). The students had just left for their day trip to Sea World, and so Cara and I had a few minutes to chat about speaking, chat about life, and chat about the convention. As we visited, one of the sound technicians approached.

Carl had helped out Cara with a quick transition on Sunday just prior to her speech. He was a HUGE help and just a really nice guy overall. Carl came by and sat down with us for a few minutes. Cara and I asked him about his work and dealing with the egos that can sometimes be present. He told us a humorous anecdote about another convention he worked on. The conversation shifted to places we’d like to live and the nature of work.

Somehow or another, the conversation shifts and Carl shares about his background in film. Prior to being a sound technician, he worked as a stuntman and camera operator in over 90 television shows and movies, including From the Earth to the Moon, one of my favorite miniseries. He starts sharing stories about some of the incredible people he’s worked including several astronauts from the Apollo missions and describes their humble nature and incredible kindness.

It was such a contrast to the ego he can sometimes encounter working as the sound guy. Far too many people think he is “beneath them.” It doesn’t happen all the time, but he did mention occasions where people cuss in his face, insult his intelligence, or question his work ethic all because a microphone isn’t working for one second during a rehearsal or the last second additional request isn’t done instantaneously. It’s unbelievable.

I’ve found that sound guys for the most part are my best friends when I show up at an engagement. I’m blown away by how many times they’ve helped me out at the last second when communication of my AV needs never quite got to them or the client wants me to do another session requiring additional setup. These guys work behind the scenes, making me look good. Most of them have really cool stories, describing their days working for a popular band, their days working on a film, or even their days volunteering abroad.

Carl was the perfect example of one of these incredible “sound guys.” He was kind, he was talented, and he had one incredible life story. If only more people would recognize the greatness standing in their presence when the “sound guy” walks in the room.

Who is your sound guy? What have you done to reach out to him lately?

“Nah, they’re closed.”

“What?”

“Yeah, saw their sign. It’s their annual summer break.”

Just before the meeting I made a quick walk to the bank (of course, nothing feels quick when it’s 116 degrees outside–sidenote: drenched with sweat when I arrived at the meeting). On my way back, I walked by House of Tricks, a wonderful restored home that serves really good food, and was surprised to see it empty. I hoped it wasn’t a permanent closure, another establishment fallen prey of the current economy. On the front gate, a piece of paper explained it all:

TRICKS is CLOSED for our annual summer break and will OPEN August 2nd. Sorry for the inconvenience.

I was disappointed at first, knowing that I’d probably have to share this news in our upcoming dinner brainstorm. Still, as I walked, it actually made me happy.

I have several good friends that work in the restaurant industry. As talented chefs, they work long hours, preparing amazing dinners for the patrons, but often missing out on dinner for their own family. The idea of taking a few weeks off in the summer, when the outdoor ambience of House of Tricks is likely to be used a little bit less makes such great sense. Give that time for the workers to reconnect with friends and family and come back recharged and enthused.

If you subscribed to this blog, you probably notice there wasn’t a single post in June. It wasn’t my initial intent. I thought I might keep up with some regular thoughts and ideas. However, once I got back to California, I spent more time just recharging. Work was able to truly take a break. I only did one speech and spent just a few hours one day doing necessary paperwork for others. I spent more time just being with my family and enjoying my youngest sister’s wedding. I enjoyed visiting with my extended family while they were in town. I had long lunches with good friends. I took mini-roadtrips to visit others. I just lived some life for a bit.

And then I returned to Arizona, 40 days after I left. I came back, recharged, energized. My days back have been pretty productive, booking some new engagements, and preparing for some leadership conferences. I have a bunch of new ideas to share in blog format and I’m even considering a few new stories to work into my keynotes. In my personal life, I’ve been more productive at the gym, really good about cooking great meals at home, and still finding ways to connect with good Arizona friends. I really do believe I’m coming back stronger.

So here’s my thought: It’s the middle of July. If you’re life tends to be dictated by the school year, you have just about another week or so to disconnect and recharge. I’m not saying neglect your important work, but give yourself a specific timeline to recharge. If you work a normal 9-5 day, pick one weekend and make it about recharging. Don’t make it a to-do list. Seriously, get off facebook and connect with your friends over an iced coffee. Don’t read this blog for a few days–read that novel you’ve been meaning to get to instead. Bring it back to some of these things you like about life.

Recharge.

We’ve got quite a bit of road ahead of us. In the time being, let’s take a moment to enjoy the scenery.

I stink at miniature golf.

I’m not even that good at Wii-Golf.

The sport never really appealed to me. It always seemed like some boring event where everyone had to be quiet. When I finally played my first game of golf (first of three to date) six years ago, I found the whole thing frustrating. I couldn’t hit the ball straight, I couldn’t putt for the life of me, and I was teamed up with others who were far better than me. I played again the following year and the results weren’t that much better (except that I recognize how bad my slice was and just turned in the other direction to make the ball go “straight”). I was tempted to vow that I’d never play a third game.

Fast-forward to last week. I’m just about wrapping up a forty day trip in California, and I’m heading back to my brother’s place. A few days prior he got this idea that during my Monday visit, we should go to the driving range. I’m not thrilled with the idea, but I go ahead with it anyway.

He’s treating, so I won’t complain too much. We hit the range. My brother is left-handed and I’m right-handed, allowing us a rare opportunity to face one another on the range. We take turns. Some hits are bad. Some are quite laughable.

But a few are actually decent. Maybe even good.

I probably violated every “proper” swing rule known to mankind, but my slice is almost completely gone (I send a few in the wrong direction). After we finish our respective buckets, my brother asks if I want to maybe play nine holes.

I’m a bit reluctant, but not as reluctant as I would have been before the driving range. It’s a nice day, and it sure beats sitting at his place just watching Tivo.

So I rent a few more clubs and buy myself a glove (apparently it makes life easier on the hands), and we head out to play a par three course.

I’m not going to pretend I got brilliant–not even close. I still can’t put for the life of me (one of the reasons I probably stink at miniature golf), but my initial hits kept getting better and better. I landed on the green on the last three holes on the first hit (and then failed to put properly to make it something to talk about). My game was getting a little bit better, and…

…I was having fun.

This sport I easily dismissed was now becoming something I actually enjoyed. Sure I have tons to learn (apparently I walked on my brother’s “line” which is poor golf etiquette), but I really do think golf might become a new hobby for me. It was nice to casually visit with my brother as we waited for our turn on the next hole, or to laugh when a hit went really bad, or to celebrate when one of us had a brilliant shot. We caught up a bit on life and spent some other time just enjoying a nice day in silence.

It was nice.

As we drove back to his place, I thought about my attitude heading into the afternoon’s adventure. Had I voiced my initial reluctance or distaste for golf, we might not have even played, and I would have missed out on perhaps one of the coolest “hangout” times my brother and I had done together in years. Maybe the third time really was the charm?

So I guess I’m saying, be open to some possibility. Give something another chance. You never know.

Now I need to see about getting some clubs…

My car is now parked outside almost on E. I’ll fill it up before meeting up with some friends tonight. I knew I could arrive at here last night perfectly fine–my car gets over 370 miles a tank and I filled it up with 320 miles left to go on the drive. Even when the sign said there was no gas for the next 35 miles, I knew I had nothing to worry about. I paced my trip and even conserved some fuel by not trying to keep up with the drivers going 90+ on I-5.

How is the fuel in your tank?

At this point in time a lot of us feel a bit exhausted. The school year is almost out, but it isn’t quite yet. We need the energy and drive to complete these last few tasks. Still, we also need enough energy to not just get to the destination, but to be able to refuel once we arrive.

At the same time, if we spend too much time refueling or refuel too often, we might find that we have really delayed our ability to get to our destination.

This summer, it’s important to take a moment to rejuventate. It’s important to refuel. It’s important to prepare for the next destination. We also need to make sure we don’t burn up all our fuel by leaping out of the gate too quickly. Our goal isn’t to race through life, but rather to enjoy the journey.

I hope you enjoy taking the fuel in your tank from E to F.

I’m so glad Andrew was back in town for the visit. He’s one of the most amazing leaders I know (as well as an amazing friend and really funny guy), and I’m so happy he’s home safely.

Today, we pause to honor those who didn’t make it back.

In the midst of the BBQs and picnics…
In the middle of the tv marathons and matinees…
In the aftermath of the pool parties and beach trips…

It’s important that we honor.

Please add some meaning to your Memorial Day.

I don’t understand a single word in the video, but you can tell there is great meaning in it. I had watched the video several times before I started hearing news stories on it. Turns out this was a special birthday surprise put on by the bus company for its employee. It was part of a larger campaign to find unique ways to recognize the service of their workers.

In a day and age where most companies tend to cut back or make rewards simply monetary, it’s nice to see creativity that recognizes that special part of the human spirit.

How can you do the same this year? What creative ways can you recognize those that help you? How can we make the people around us truly feel special?

These are a few of the questions I hope you wrestle with in the coming months. Please let me know the cool answers you discover!

I’ve been thinking a lot about our life stories or our personal narratives over the past few days. I spent the weekend at the Northern California Youth Leadership Seminar, a conference for high sophomores. I’ve speak at the conference every year and have really developed some great friendships with the volunteer staff, prompting me to expand my visit at the event this year. In the opening session, Seminar Executive Director Dan Vu discussed the idea of shaping our stories. He alluded to our tendency as people to repeat our own plotline or to assign character traits to others without considering their story. His challenge for the weekend was to consider the story of others and to consider the posibility for the story for ourselves.

I spent that day listening to the other keynote speakers present. I heard Anthony Rapp, the original Mark in the Pulitzer Prize Winning Musical RENT, describe the legacy of story shared by Jonathan Larson as well as the need for each of us to make our story more than just an engaging narrative. I heard from Congresswoman Jackie Speier, a survivor of a murder attempt at Jonestown, who turned incredible setbacks and hardships throughout her life only enhance her desire to serve, rather that end it. I listened to Scott Backovich describe the need for each of us to be catalysts in our community.

And then it was impossible not to hear from the students.

It was evident as the conference continued that the rough draft desires for their lives were being revised into purposeful plots. There was an opportunity to Write the Future.

I know at times it feels like the future cannot be changed. Perhaps we look ahead at a perceived reality, disappointed by lack of happiness or joy, its drought of success, and its absence of purpose. Like Wayne Rooney in the Nike Ad, we hate what we see.

The question becomes: are we prepared to run full force or change it?

Are we prepared to dig deep?

Are we prepared to push?

Are we prepared to strive?

Are we prepared to write the future?