This past weekend, we made a quick trip to Columbus, Ohio to watch our four grandsons play in their sports games. That was the plan, anyway.
Then came 48 hours of steady rain. Games? Cancelled.
But as life often reminds us, the “main event” isn’t always the one on the schedule. We still had a wonderful time with the boys. And I had one of those rare, quiet moments to talk with my son.
As both of my boys have grown into strong husbands, fathers, and entrepreneurs, one of the great joys of my life has been seeing our relationships evolve. I’m still Dad (and proud of that role), but increasingly, I find myself learning from them. These days, I’m not always the teacher. Sometimes, I get to be the student—and that’s a gift.
This weekend, my son casually dropped a truth bomb I haven’t stopped thinking about.
He said something to the effect, “Have you ever noticed how people are rarely present anymore?”
“We’re always thinking about what’s next,” he added. “The next task. The next meeting. The next milestone. We’re constantly chasing—and rarely arriving.”
Oof. He’s not wrong.
I’ve caught myself doing exactly that. At work, I’m already onto the next conversation before the current one finishes. During my morning workout, I’m thinking about the next set before I finish the one I’m on. Even in prayer or devotion, I sometimes drift to the to-do list instead of just… being with God.
That got me thinking: maybe it’s not just busyness. Maybe it’s a form of discontent. An addiction to momentum. A fear of sitting still too long with our own thoughts.
And maybe—just maybe—it’s also a lack of clarity on what truly matters.
There’s no shortage of books on mindfulness, purpose, or productivity. Ironically, reading them all might just become another distraction from living the life we already have.
Lately, I’ve tried asking myself this:
If I had one year left, who would I spend it with? What would I stop doing? What would I finally start doing?
That question cuts through the noise.
It reminds me that the best version of my life—and my leadership—isn’t always out there somewhere in the “next.” It’s right here. In the now. In a rainy weekend, a quiet conversation, or a single moment of reflection.
I’m not perfect at this. Far from it. But I’m trying to notice more. Reflect more. Be more present. And I’m grateful to my son Tim for the wisdom he shared.
Now I’d love to hear from you.
How do you quiet the noise of busy? What tools help you stay grounded in what truly matters?
Let’s learn from one another.
Soar, Don’t Settle.