When I was a kid, I dreaded shopping for a gift for my Dad, especially for Father’s Day. What do you get a Dad anyway? Even the stores struggle to come up with good ideas. Asking him for a list of things he might like doesn’t help either. “Don’t waste the money. I don’t need anything.” He means it too. He’s already got a big screen tv and a garage. What else is there?

It might be the thought that counts, but you can’t wrap thought up in a box. So if you’re like me, you spend hours looking for the perfect gift only to realize it’s futile and give up. In the end, you find yourself in the tie department at Macy’s, hating yourself along with the rest of the tie-giving kids.

For years, I didn’t understand how someone could genuinely not need or want anything. But now that I’m a Dad myself, I totally get it. And if there was any lingering question left in me, my three year old drove it home last week when she gave me the greatest gift a child could ever give their father.

The girls and I were straightening up the house while Jen was at the grocery store. I put a load of towels in the washer and when I turned around to leave, Emmy was standing in the doorway. She didn’t say anything. She just looked up at me with sweet, “please hold me” eyes and reached out her arms. When I picked her up, she put her head on my shoulder and snuggled in close. We hugged in silence for a while. Then, in a quiet little voice, Emmy said, “Daddy…I love you.”

It felt different than most “I Love You’s” I get. It was as genuine as they come and it stirred my heart.

“You do? Tell me why.” I could see her wheels turning as she searched for the right words.

“Because… you’re beautiful.”

I laughed to myself. “You think so? What’s beautiful about Daddy?”

She sat up and said, “I like your beautiful shirt and your hair…and all the stuff you’re made of.” She smiled a quiet little smile, then laid her head back on my shoulder. We stood there again in silence for a minute more. Then she said something I’ll remember for the rest of my life. “Daddy, when I was still in heaven, I wished for a Daddy like you.”

Words fall short. What do I even say about that? My heart is melting all over again even typing the words.

Maybe it shouldn’t have meant so much to me, but it did. My heart swelled and hasn’t come down in the week since. It was a perfect, magical moment with my baby girl. She gave me a gift only she could give…one that did me a kind of good I can’t even fully explain.

Father’s Day is just days away. If you haven’t already, you’ll soon be running to the mall or jumping online in search of the perfect present. On behalf of all fathers, I’d like to deliver a message to anyone who has a Dad or is married to one.

If we want to read a book, we’ll buy it. We don’t need another shirt, but if we did, we’d go get one. There’s not much we want that we can’t get on our own. But there’s one gift we long for that you alone can give – and you won’t find it at Brookstone.

Want to make this the best Father’s Day ever?

Tell your Dad you love him.

Then tell him why.

Be genuine – and specific.

Use words, not stuff.

Speak from the heart.

Make a moment of it.

Thank him for the work he’s done and the sacrifices he’s made for your sake.

Thank him for the best of what he’s planted in you.

Tell him you’d have chosen him if you could have.

Tell him why he’s beautiful…and that you love all the stuff he’s made of.

Inside the heart of your father and most every man you know is a little boy who wrapped a towel around his neck and pretended he was Superman. We grow older and abandon our dreams to fly, but we never quite lose the hope that we can save the day. We spend our whole lives chasing our moment of glory, trying to build something bigger than ourselves, something that will leave a mark on the world. Then one day, hopefully sooner than later if we’re lucky, we realize that…it’s you. You are our legacy. You are our reason why. You’re directly tied to our purpose…and therefore, our self worth. So you won’t find what we want at the mall. We want your words. We want your time. We want to know that we matter to you…and we wanna know why.

Some of you reading this may be estranged from your fathers. If a bridge can be built, maybe today is the day to begin to build it. If that’s not possible, take this opportunity to celebrate the men who have stood in your father’s place, bringing healing to your heart and investing their lives in you.

This year, give the Dads in your life something they can’t give themselves.

Ditch the tie.

Write a letter.

Have a conversation.

Love your Dad?

Tell him…with words you’ve never used before.

On behalf of all fathers, I can assure you, there’s no greater gift.

A few weeks ago, I went to an art exhibit featuring students from a local art school. When I say “went to”, it might be more appropriate to say “was dragged to”. My wife mentors a young friend who was featured and Jennifer wanted to show her support. Evidently, she wanted to show mine as well. I love art; don’t get me wrong. But the word “student” conjured up images of bad paper mache and various paintings of fruit bowls.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The gallery was filled from edge to edge with beautiful pieces, from sculpture to multimedia, photography and beyond. Much of it entertained and inspired me, but nothing more so than Alicia’s paintings. She had such a distinct style and point of view. Her colors were vivid and happy. Her vision was focused. Even at her young age, you could tell her art was “hers”, which really impressed me. Most people are still trying to find their voice at twice her age.

We’d only met in passing, so Jen introduced us again. “Congratulations,” I said. “Your work is beautiful.” She thanked me without really accepting my compliment, so I circled back. “I’m serious. It’s really mature and…complex.” She thanked me again and asked if I was a painter. “Umm, no,” I said. “If I painted this, that lady would just be a stick with a circle on top.”

She laughed and said, “Well, you’d be on your way then…That’s how I made her.”

I could tell she was serious, but I didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”

She paused briefly, thinking to herself, then said, “Well, from far away, it might look complicated and ornate. But when you break it down, everything in a painting is made up of simple brush strokes. It may feel intimidating and complicated, but it’s simpler than we make it out to be. When you get in close, it’s all just sticks and circles. That’s the real beauty of it. Everything works together to make something beautiful. You just have to be patient enough to let the layers do their thing.” I made a lame joke about my collection of stick figure paintings selling for millions someday and she smiled graciously. I moved on soon after that.

Later that night, Jen informed me that “we” bought the painting Alicia and I had talked about. I ribbed her about it, but truth be told, I didn’t mind. I like the painting and the lesson that came with it. And for the last few weeks, I’ve been reminded of our conversation almost every time I pass it. The more I think about it, the more I realize she wasn’t just sharing great perspective about art. It’s great perspective about life.

Many of us are so focused on the bigger thing we hope to do or become that we can’t figure out how to get there. It’s overwhelming. It’s too hard. When we look at all that’s out in front of us, we grow intimidated by all the possibilities and choices. So we stand still – doing nothing at all. We delay – talking and dreaming, instead of creating and becoming.

Maybe it’s not about having the perfect shade of green before we try.

Maybe it’s about using the blue and yellow that are already in our hands.

For some of us, it’s about getting some paint up on the canvas and figuring it out as we go.

Others focus only on what we can easily see. So much so that it becomes nearly impossible for us to see our part in a grander picture. Unable to dream, we get stuck in the day to day. We use the same colors we’ve always used. We paint the same shapes, in the same places.

What would we see if we took a step back and looked at things from a different perspective?

What if there’s a masterpiece inside us that we’re refusing to paint?

I’ve spent the better part of my life trying to see the big picture and the small details all at the same time. When I can’t, fear grows and excuses prevail. It shuts me down and keeps me from trying because I don’t want to make an unfixable mistake. But I’m starting to think that’s impossible.

The gray underneath the blue is what makes it beautiful.

Layers stacked on top of layers only make a picture more unique and interesting.

They say life imitates art, but maybe the opposite is even more true. Yes – life can be complicated.  And navigating it can certainly be intimidating – but it’s simpler than we make it. When you get in close, it’s all just sticks and circles. That’s the real beauty of it. Everything works together to make something beautiful. You just have to be patient enough to let the layers do their thing. 

That’s how a masterpiece is made.

Last weekend, I attended the Graduation Ceremony of a family friend. And as I looked into the faces of the graduates, I couldn’t help but see my younger self in them – excited and eager, blissfully unaware of days to come.

There is plenty of advice out there for new graduates, but so much of it falls short of practical, real world help. Here are 10 things I wish someone had said to me. Following even one of them can vastly improve someone’s life forever.

You should get out of here!

The world is bigger than you think. No, for real…It’s much bigger. You’ve seen pictures. You know some history and facts. But there’s something that can’t be learned any other way than by traveling to a city you don’t know, an ocean away from home, communicating in a language you don’t speak, tasting food you’ve never seen, debating issues with people who are utterly convinced you’re wrong. Go see the world, at least a sliver of it. And don’t put it off until later. Later is more elusive than you think.

Forget about being well-rounded.

Your education has demanded you to focus on many areas at once. You’ve been trained and conditioned to be as well-rounded as possible. But society doesn’t actually honor well-rounded people. We applaud and promote experts. We give them medals and write books about them.

Every moment you spend focusing on your weaknesses is a moment you’re not investing to improve the strengths that are tied to your purpose. Play to your strengths – avoid your weaknesses. Go be an expert.

Make ‘em love you.

Hard work and ability will only take you so far. People skills trump talent almost every time. There are lots of jobless experts – and plenty of successful people with little talent. Likability is key.

In business and beyond, we promote people we enjoy being around more than those who are simply capable. Live your life in such a way that when you walk into a room, people are genuinely glad to see you…but be authentic. Schmoozers are losers.

Pay yourself first…Now!

No matter how much or little money you make, starting today, set aside 10% to invest or save long term. Most of us ignore disciplined saving until it’s too late. Don’t be like the masses. Start now and do it automatically, each time you make a bank deposit. Even small amounts can grow into fortunes when compound interest is applied. With time on your side, this is one of the best things you can do for your future.

Run with those who get it.

Despite your awesomeness, some people aren’t going to get you. A boss, a colleague, a date, an acquaintance…Someone out there is not a fan. When we’re younger, we tend to focus on these people. Why don’t they like us? Why can’t we win them over?!

Life experience will eventually cure you of caring so much about what other people think, especially haters. Get there sooner than later. Bottom line – they’re just not your people. Don’t take it personally and don’t waste time trying to win them over. Move on. Find your people. Find your team. You’ll be amazed what happens when you surround yourself with people who are in your corner.

It’s okay to change your mind.

Look at all the unhappy people around you complaining about their lives. Wanna know something they all have in common? 100% of them are afraid to choose a different road than the one they previously chose. Yes, there may be some legitimate obstacles, but is the facade of security worth a sick heart?

This is your life. When you find yourself on the wrong road, change your mind. Change your direction. Do it boldly and with confidence, knowing that you will find your way. Even if the transition is tough, a new and better choice will always lead to a new and better life.

Be the squeaky wheel.

Do you know the phrase, “You have not because you ask not”? It’s true for many reasons and in many ways. When we’re younger, we hang back, hoping good work and strong character will speak on our behalf. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always. The squeaky wheel does get the oil – and people who are bold enough to speak up usually get what they want, even if someone else deserves it more. This is why you see questionable guys dating incredible women – bad actors making films – and jerks getting ahead while you’re waiting to be noticed.

Spend some time getting clear about what you hope, need and plan for your life. If you can’t define it, it will be defined for you and chances are good you won’t like what you get. Once you know what you want, speak up. Ask for what you want. It holds you accountable to go for it, and you’re likely to get some help.

Find a new teacher.

Each of us can point to a person in our childhood who encouraged our talent and our heart at a pivotal moment. They shaped our ability, taught us to dream beyond our boundaries and without their investment in us, we wouldn’t be who we are today.

Thing is, that need never goes away. We all long for someone to be out in front of us, clearing a path and shining a light on the road up ahead. It’s not as easy to find that person outside of school, but it’s most definitely worth the search.

Find someone who’s doing what you aspire to do and shadow them. Find a way to serve them. Ask smart questions. Listen more than you speak. A mentor is one of the most valuable treasures we forget to search for.

Serve your way to happiness.

You’ll never earn your way to happy. You’ll never purchase fulfillment. Notoriety, on its own, won’t fill the void inside you. The pursuit of stuff and position will eventually leave you empty. Finding ways to use your abilities to serve others is the key to fulfillment.

If you want to be great, find someone who needs you and help them…no charge and no strings attached. You’ll never feel better about yourself than when you’re helping someone who can’t return the favor.

It’s all for something – even the waiting.

Life can be tough after graduation. It’s easy to feel like you’re stuck in between who you once were and who you want to be. You could drive yourself crazy wondering why everyone else is moving forward in the things that matter most while you’re standing still. What you learn in time is that it all makes sense…someday. Today is perfectly setting you up for someday. Stay eager and expectant, but patient and content. It’s all for something – even the waiting.

Know any recent or soon to be high school or college graduates? What’s your advice for them, knowing what you know now?

Like many of you, my wife and I are the parents of young children.  We wouldn’t trade these days for anything in the world, but it’s not an exaggeration to say that it’s 24/7.  We’re also self employed, and as our business and responsibilities grow, we’re feeling the pressures that come with filling every role from receptionist to CEO – while also raising a family, maintaining our marriage and serving our community.  I imagine many of you feel a similar pressure, so I thought I’d share this story.

The other night, after a string of tough days, we fell into bed, both of us almost asleep before our heads hit the pillows.  But in the stillness, as I tried to quiet my mind, all I could think about was how hard Jennifer’s day must have been with all she had on her plate.  I realized I’d spent my whole day taking great care of my to do list, but not taking great care of her.

(READ or LISTEN – your choice)

Sigh.

I reached over, took her hand, and gave her a little squeeze.  “How are you holding up?”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she said, “I’m okay… It’s just a lot, you know?”  I gently squeezed her hand again.  Then the tears came.  “Sometimes I just wish we could move to the middle of nowhere and get a cow.”  This is absolutely hilarious if you know Jennifer.

“We can, babe.  We can do that.  We can move to Montana and get a cow!”

She laughed out loud and asked me if I was gonna milk it.  The thought of me trying to milk our cow dried her tears and had her laughing just a little too hard, if you ask me.

“We don’t have to stay on this road, Jen.  Maybe it’s too much.”

She thought about it for a while, and said, “No… this is our road.  I know it’s where we belong…  I just hope it’s all worth it someday.”  I knew what she meant.

We laid there in the stillness, partners – no blame or hurt passing between us – but feeling the weight of what this short season of life is requiring us to carry.

And then the question came…

I looked her in the eyes and said, “How would you know it was worth it?“

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what would life need to look like someday for you to be able to look back on this season and say it was worth it?  What would life be like?  How would you know it was worth it?“

You guys, it’s a simple question, but I’ll be honest and say I’m not sure I’d ever asked it about my personal life – at least not like this.  I cling to benchmarks in my work.  And when I reach my goals, I’m not surprised because I’ve pictured the end product from the very beginning.  So why am I not projecting my personal life with that same kind of attention and detail?

If we’re honest, most of us would admit our personal goals are more like wishes than a forecast of what’s actually to come.  A hope, more than a plan.  So we keep running and running, doing and doing – trusting and hoping we’re on the right road.  We stay busy – life makes sure of that.  But are we effective?  Would we notice if we got off course, or are we so busy that we’re unaware?

Jen and I sat up, and for the next half hour, we talked about what life would need to look like someday for us to know that this present sacrifice and investment was worth it.  We talked about things like financial freedom, but that obvious stuff paled in comparison to the intangible things we stumbled on.  Who would we be?  What would we know?  How would we help?  What would we leave behind?

Since then, I see everything through a new lens.  Does this get me where I’m going or does it steer me away?  If it’s hard, but it gets me there, I’m in.  If it doesn’t, in this season when I have so little “extra” time and energy to spare, I might need to let it go.

If you could look into your present life from somewhere further up ahead on your road, would you sign off on how you’re spending your time and using your life – or would you recommend some changes?

How would you know it was worth it?

Thirty minutes answering a simple question brought us clarity and peace we really needed – and quite possibly saved me from a future milking a cow in Montana.

 

To say I played baseball as a kid might be a slight exaggeration. It’s more accurate to say I kept the bench warm and wandered around the outfield, watching the game being played fifty feet in front of me. I can’t blame my coaches for not playing me more. I wasn’t terrible, but I wasn’t great either. If the question was, “What can you do with the ball?”, my answer was always the same. “Not enough.”

It made sense to me…but it still hurt.

Athletes were our school heroes. I was chasing acceptance as much as I was chasing the ball. But my less than stellar efforts sealed my fate and secured my place outside of the inner circle and away from the cool lunch table. Still, for another shot at glory, I stuck with it. For five years straight, I kept showing up – hoping that someday I’d do something I’d never done before.

And one day, I did.

It was the bottom of the 9^th. We were behind by 2 points with two outs and two runners on when it became my turn at bat. It was all on me. I don’t remember much about the moment, but I do remember the way I felt. I wanted to crawl in a hole. I wanted to be anywhere but there. I even considered playing sick, so they’d sub someone in my place. I stalled as long as I could before approaching the plate, and I let the first two pitches go by, afraid to swing. Strikes. As the third ball approached, I closed my eyes and swung as hard as I could.

It probably would have been a single, but the first baseman couldn’t catch the overthrown ball – so I kept going. As I rounded second, I could see confusion in the other team. No one knew who the ball was being thrown to and no one called it. I ran on to third and got there just in time for the third baseman to catch the ball and drop it right in front of me.  My coach told me to stop, but adrenaline and nerves made me temporarily deaf and ballsy. I kept running, the third baseman close behind me, ready to trap me at home. At the last second, he tossed the ball to the catcher as I slid into home.

Safe.

What a beautiful word. Safe. I did it. It wasn’t pretty, but I did it. We won the game and I won my first and only game ball. A few games later, our season ended and I retired…a winner. Not because I’d finally tasted victory – but because of what I’d learned about myself.

Despite my best efforts, I was (and am) an average ball player at best.

For years I tried to change what was just plain true. But no amount of wishing or practice could increase my natural ability. Plain and simple, I’m not equipped. I don’t have the hand-eye coordination or the instincts needed to be great. I tried to dig deeper and hone something that wasn’t there. I told myself I wasn’t working hard enough. I compared myself to the best around me and beat myself up every chance I got for not being more than I was. But even when I got to the moment I’d been wishing for, it didn’t feel right. I didn’t feel right. A real ballplayer would have eaten that moment up. I was just glad it was over.

So I stepped off of the field. Finally. And that’s when everything began to fall into place for me.

Instead of going to baseball practice, I studied piano and eventually voice and acting. I attended a high school for the performing arts and won every state championship available to me. That earned me a scholarship to a great university. My reputation there caught the attention of music industry leaders, who opened doors for me I could never have opened on my own.  In the years since, I’ve had hundreds of home run moments. I just had to step off the field to get to them.

Albert Einstein is quoted as saying, “Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing it’s stupid.”  

I love that quote. I love the idea that each of us is a master at something – and I believe it’s true. But we have to let go of all the things we’re not and be led by all the things we actually are. We’ve got to back away from the tree and get back in the water. Honor is waiting, even calling out to us. But it’s reserved only for those who reach beyond what’s average…to embrace what’s extraordinary in themselves.

Are you swimming – or are you trying to climb a tree?

Do you keep showing up somewhere you know you don’t belong?

What can you do like no one else?

What’s gloriously true about you?

Where is your genius?

Now…what are you going to do about that?