Day One: Cultivating a Meaningful Rule of Life

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As I began my job transition several months ago, and as it continues today, I am guided by a Transition Tool Kit. Consisting of 7 “tools” that were developed from the work of Bruce Feiler’s Life is in the Transitions and other noted transition guides, the Tool Kit contains concepts and action plans that I have been working through.

Here are first three:

  • Acknowledge: Identify Your Emotions
  • Seek: Pursue Wisdom from Others
  • Celebrate: Ritualize the Change

While the tools are not designed to be linear and can be picked up at any time, I’ve been comfortable with moving through the sequence of the three above to this date.

Now, it’s on to Liberate: Give Up Old Mindsets.

The mindsets that served me in my previous stage may no longer be useful – or even hinder me – in this next phase. Shedding outdated beliefs and self-limiting narratives requires courage, but it opens doors to growth. 

What assumptions am I carrying that no longer align with who I are or who I want to become? Moving through transition often means letting go of familiar but outdated notions of success, identity, or purpose.

The deleting of my work calendar and schedules was the first part of using this tool. But having a blank calendar is not a plan for transition – it will only lead to listless drifting. Along with this tool, it’s also time to pick up another one – Create: Experiment with New Ideas.

With old mindsets cleared, I’m giving myself permission to explore new ways of thinking and doing. I’m going to try activities, roles, or ideas that resonate with where I’m headed. This stage is about experimenting without the fear of failure. As I explore, I will stay open to discovering passions, skills, or career paths that I may not have previously considered.

And that brings me to a mindset that’s been dropping into my life in increasing measures over the last few months. It began with reading and study I had been doing related to following Jesus. It continued with the passages of Matthew we are studying in our church’s current sermon series and community group that deal with rest and the Sabbath.

So picture this: on the one hand, I’m at Day One of a new chapter in my life – one with a literal blank calendar. On the other hand, I’ve got the tools of Liberate and Create ready to use.

What’s next?

Finding Purpose Through Pattern: The Modern Rule of Life

In our fast-paced world of constant activity, many people are rediscovering an ancient wisdom practice: the rule of life. This concept, far from being a rigid set of regulations, offers a framework for intentional living that modern seekers find increasingly relevant.

Origins in Spiritual Tradition

The “rule of life” traces its origins to early spiritual leaders like St. Augustine and St. Benedict. These church fathers developed communal patterns that spiritual communities have utilized for thousands of years as formation tools. Despite the constraining connotations of the word “rule,” these frameworks were never about blind obedience but rather about establishing communal purpose.

Both Augustine and Benedict shared a singular focus: love. They meticulously designed daily patterns with the explicit goal of orienting life toward loving God and neighbor. Augustine began his rule declaring, “Before all things, most dear brothers, we must love God and after Him our neighbor; for these are the principal commands which have been given to us.” Similarly, Benedict aimed to create nothing “harsh” or “burdensome,” but instead sought to guide followers toward the “ineffable sweetness of love.”

The Latin root of “rule” – regula – reveals its true intent. Rather than restriction, it refers to a trellis or supporting structure that guides growth. Like plants that thrive with proper support, human growth benefits from thoughtful direction to prevent twisted, chaotic development.

The Scaffolding of Our Days

Our lives take shape through the cumulative effect of small, repeated actions. As Annie Dillard insightfully noted, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.” Our schedules serve as “scaffolding” that allow us to intentionally engage with time itself.

This scaffolding concept perfectly illustrates the rule of life’s purpose. Habits are how we interact with time, and since time is the currency of purpose, habits become the means through which we access and fulfill our deeper callings. If knowledge requires the right words, character formation requires the right habits. The rule of life provides the framework for cultivating these transformative patterns.

For centuries, monastic communities have understood this profound connection between daily practice and spiritual development. Their insight reveals that meaningful formation begins with a framework of habits – a truth that deserves wider recognition in our contemporary context.

Integrating Belief and Practice

While understanding theological truths about God and neighbor is essential, equally important is putting those truths into practice through a deliberate rule of life. Belief without practice remains incomplete, just as education without formation falls short. Knowing Jesus without following Jesus creates a dissonance that diminishes our humanity.

Only when our habits align with our worldview do we become people who truly love rather than merely understand concepts of love. This integration transforms abstract knowledge into embodied wisdom.

The Challenge of Default Formation

Many of us have unknowingly adopted what might be called “the American rule of life” – an unconscious program of habits that shapes us toward anxiety, depression, consumerism, and self-absorption. These default patterns form us in ways contrary to our stated values.

The urgency of developing an intentional, gospel-based rule of life becomes clear when we recognize how powerfully these cultural currents influence us. We need counter-formative practices to become the loving people we aspire to be.

This issue extends beyond personal well-being to our public witness. American Christianity often emphasizes the message of Jesus while neglecting his practices, creating a troubling disconnect between proclaimed faith and lived reality. How else can we explain professed followers of a radical gospel who conform so seamlessly to prevailing cultural norms?

Embracing the Trellis

The path forward requires acknowledging how habits shape the heart. Rather than viewing limitations as threats to freedom, we must recognize that thoughtful boundaries create space for meaningful growth. The trellis doesn’t restrict the vine – it enables it to flourish in its intended direction.

By crafting a common rule of life suited to our time, we can unite our intellectual understanding with our daily practices. This integration allows us to grow into the lovers of God and neighbor we were created to be, following not just the teachings but the way of Jesus.

In rediscovering this ancient wisdom, we find a surprisingly relevant answer to modern challenges – not through more information or stronger willpower, but through the patient cultivation of life-giving habits that transform us from the inside out.

Up Next: Exploring The Common Rule

Growing Whole, Not Old: Moving from Traditional Retirement to Maximum Influence

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I have had a job – received payment in exchange for labor – in some capacity since age 6, beginning in 1964. 

My formative years were spent in my father’s gas station – beginning with keeping the coal stove burning with coal brought in from the pile out back of the station and other small tasks. A wide range of responsibilities dealing with every part of a gas station followed over the next twelve years, ending in my senior year of high school as “Assistant Manager” (more of an honorarium than actual title, but what 18-year old wouldn’t like that?). Upon graduation from high school, my father fired me – just as he had every other “boy” who worked for him during their high school years since 1949 – and told me to find a “real” job for the summer before I entered college in the fall.

That summer I worked the third shift at the Aladdin factory, making thermos bottles – the old fashioned, vacuum-glass ones. Not-so-affectionately called “the Glass House,” the temperatures hovered around 120° if you moved outside of the 18” column of cool air blowing down on your work area. While I appreciated that kind of work, it wasn’t for me – which is exactly what my dad wanted me to learn.

In college I worked part-time in the office of the Economics Department for four years. During my senior year, and after graduation, I worked part-time as an accountant for a food processing plant.

I have had a job in a full-time capacity (hours) since age 23, starting in 1981. Upon beginning my seminary studies, I worked part-time as an audiovisual technician for the seminary and as a part-time staff member for a church, while carrying a full academic load.

Upon graduation, I officially began a full-time job for the same church, then serving two additional churches over the next 23 years. In 2004 I began working as a consultant to the church, in two different companies, for the next 21 years.

Friday, February 28, 2025 was my final day “on the job” – 61 years, or 44 years, depending on how you measure it, of having a job.

I had not anticipated my position being eliminated, but I fully accept this time in my life, and acknowledge with gratefulness God’s sovereignty and direction in and for my life.

I’m not finished having a job, but I understand that how “work” is defined is changing for me.

As of right now, I plan to retire sometime in 2025. “Retirement” in this sense means I will acknowledge and accept the formal status determined by laws and the government.

It does not mean I will stop working.

Many leaders view retirement – whether a few months, years, or decades away – as a finish line.

But increasingly these leaders, especially for those who are closer to retirement, are finding that being too young to retire but too old to find a job has become a critical issue.

Many of us feel like we’re growing whole rather than growing old. What if there was a new, modern archetype of elderhood, one that was worn as a badge of honor, not cloaked in shame?

Chip Conley

Enter the concept of a Modern Elder.

“3D vision” refers to the effect of our brains merging the two dimensional images from both our eyes to interpret depth, thus “seeing” in 3 dimensions: length, width, and depth. 

I’d like to borrow that definition and create a new metaphor: A vision of a Modern Elder that utilizes 3 representations of time: past, present, and future.

  • Past is history
  • Present is reality
  • Future is opportunity

History – Every past success and failure in your life can be a source of information and wisdom – if you allow it to be. The wise Modern Elder has learned both from success and failure, and realizes there will be more of both. Don’t be satisfied with your successes, and don’t be dismayed by your failures. History is important: it is not a rock to weigh you down, but a bridge to build the future.

Reality – No matter what we learn from the past, it will never tell you all you need to know for the present. The wise Modern Elder is constantly gathering information from many sources about what’s going on in the here and now – because that’s where we are at. They ask others on their team, they talk with their family and friends; they look to other wise people of all ages for insight. Though formal schooling may be long in the past, it’s always important to continually be students of the people surrounding you.

Opportunity – Wise Modern Elders should strive to see tomorrow before it arrives. They have a vision for a preferable future, they understand what it will take to get there, they know who they will need to become in order to be successful, and they recognize obstacles long before they become apparent to others.

Wise Modern Elders will understand the three dimensions of past, present, and future, and realize they are not an illusion, but a powerful force that will help them reach their real depth and dimension, and in doing so, help others do the same.

My journey to becoming a Modern Elder is all about reciprocity. 

Giving and receiving. Teaching and learning. Speaking and listening. 

Everyone gets older, but not everyone gets elder.

The first just happens (if you’re lucky and healthy). The other you have to earn.

The traditional view of elders as repositories of wisdom, passing down knowledge to younger generations, has been upended by the breakneck pace of technological change. Yet, the need for wisdom, context, and perspective has never been greater. Modern Elders bridge this gap, combining years of experience with a willingness to learn, adapt, and engage with new ideas and technologies.

Our world is awash in knowledge, but often wanting in wisdom. To stay relevant, it’s not just about learning something new, it’s also about learning new ways to access the information at our fingertips.

Chip Conley

Retirement doesn’t have to be the last great thing a leader does. It can be the gateway to a leader’s greatest season of influence.

Final Approach: Reframing Life’s Unexpected Transitions

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In late October 2024, as dawn broke through dark skies on my daily morning walk, I listened to the night sounds turning into day. I was walking the familiar path with a mixture of nostalgia, fear, and anticipation. 

For over 44 years, I had served in a variety of roles with a common focus: the church, the body of Christ. As a staff member or a strategic outsider, my goal had always been as a guiding light for the organization. Independent, logical, and determined, I am known for my relentless pursuit of learning through exploration, researching, and by asking searching questions.  Outwardly quiet, reserved, and detached, inwardly I am constantly absorbed in analyzing problems or situations. Work, for me, is the process of striving towards something that matters deeply to me and is consistent with my values. It was more than just a job.

Yet here I was on the morning after the fateful call in which I had been informed that my job was being eliminated in four months’ time, at the end of February. 

On that morning, the walk was more habit than conscious decision, but not for long.

As I walked with the shock still fresh, my mind turned to the skies at the sound of a plane overhead. With the wind blowing in my face, airplanes approaching Charlotte Douglas airport were landing from the north. That meant flight after flight was lining up like a set of twinkling cafe lights from the south, flying directly overhead, and then turning to the west before one more turn to make their final approach.

In a flash, I knew that the term final approach was a perfect metaphor for what I was facing. Long enamored of airplanes and flight, and with a father who served in WWII in the Army Air Corps and a son currently a captain in the Air Force, the phrase was perfect for the situation I was facing.

The news of my job elimination had come like turbulence on a clear day, unexpected yet undeniable. While my colleagues and friends may have thought “retirement,” I felt  down to my core that I hadn’t yet reached my “final destination” (to use another flight metaphor). There was still a journey ahead – uncharted skies and yet-to-be-discovered places. And I intended to approach this moment as I had every challenge in my career: with conviction, gratitude, and the desire to finish well.

During the four months left, I set out to use each day purposefully. Reframing this period, I chose to see this as a final approach of my current job before moving into new territory with another destination in the future, rather than an ending. 

As I spent my days on the various parts of my job at hand, each task took on a new meaning as I did my daily tasks but also prepared to share not only insights about the technical aspects but also wisdom gleaned from my years in the role. Each call, every report or spreadsheet prepared, and even casual conversations in digital spaces became opportunities to create the equivalent of a pilot’s “flight bag” – aeronautical and navigation charts, route manuals, and flight checklists. Necessary for ongoing “flights,” my intention was that all the activity over the next four months would provide direction and guidance for the team, allowing them to flourish after I was gone.

My evenings and weekends became devoted to planning the next part of my adventure. I am charting out ideas that have simmered in the back of my mind for years: more writing, maybe, or mentoring/coaching opportunities where I could invest in people beyond my field. I’m even envisioning a “modern elder” initiative – a place where seasoned professionals can support rising generations, sharing both practical skills and timeless principles. 

To me, this isn’t about staying relevant or proving something; it was about answering a call I have long felt deep within, one that echoed louder than any retirement clock ticking in my ear.

Anita, always my closest source of inspiration and encouragement, has stepped up big time. Her own personal journey and recent medical battles over the past three years have provided immense support and a calm sense of peace in stormy weather.

Many more conversations followed, and continue, with my children, friends, and other individuals being sought out to provide a sound word of counsel.

After two months of the above, some unforeseen medical issues brought unexpected “interruptions” into my plans. With just enough energy to fulfill my daily role, I set aside looking to the future for a time.

As I closed out each night, I felt a growing sense of peace. I embraced this final approach with the steady focus of a seasoned pilot bringing in a plane through the night – aware of the passengers and cargo, mindful of all the external factors affecting the final approach, but confident in the landing and the subsequent journey ahead. 

My final destination? This period isn’t an exit but an opening, a new horizon where my years of experience have become a compass guiding me toward purpose and fulfillment beyond what I could have dreamed about before.

When the time comes to step away and power down my laptop for the final time in a few hours, I won’t look back with regret. Instead, I am moving toward the future with a smile, heart full of hope for the landing yet to come. 

My journey is far from over; in fact, it has just begun.

The Last Click: Erasing Calendar Blocks, Embracing Possibilities

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For the last two decades, my workdays have been shaped by the rhythm of my calendar.

A carefully structured flow of time blocks dictated my tasks, my focus, and, in some ways, my identity. There were the predictable, repeating tasks that formed the backbone of my week – daily social media creation and posting, back-end administrative tasks, and engagement actions. As a part of a virtual team since 2012, there were also corporate huddles, team strategic planning sessions, client planning and deliverables, and the one-on-ones where relationships were nurtured and ideas refined. Then there were the scheduled but fluid blocks, the ones set aside for ideation, creativity, and the deep work that fueled progress. Each of these moments played a role in shaping not only my professional life but the legacy I leave behind.

Now, in my final week on the job, I find myself doing something that once would have felt unthinkable: deleting those time blocks. It is a necessary part of the transition out of my job, but also an unexpectedly emotional one. Each click of the delete button erases a piece of the framework that has defined my work for years. With every disappearing time block, I am reminded that this chapter is closing.

At first, it feels like a simple act of housekeeping – removing obligations that no longer apply. But as I scroll through my calendar, the memories attached to those meetings rise to the surface. The weekly project update on Fridays at 10 AM? That was where our team navigated challenges together, brainstorming solutions and celebrating wins. The recurring morning creative sessions for social media? That was time to connect our monthly themes to engaging images and words. Even the Monday morning planning block – once a dreaded necessity – now feels like a familiar companion, a ritual that grounded my week. The “planned spontaneity” of daily creative time? That was my sacred space to step away from the daily grind and dream about the future.

Deleting these blocks is more than clearing space on a calendar; it is acknowledging that the routines that once shaped my days will soon belong to someone else – or to no one at all. The thought is both liberating and melancholic. On one hand, there is an undeniable sense of relief. The deadlines, the obligations, the demands that once felt so urgent are dissolving. The weight of responsibility is lifting. But on the other hand, there is an ache that comes with letting go of something that has been so deeply ingrained in my life.

As the calendar empties, I recognize that I am also making space for something new. While I don’t yet know exactly what the next chapter holds, I do know that the structure I once relied on will soon be replaced by a different rhythm. And maybe that’s the beauty of it – this transition is not just about endings, but about the beginnings waiting just beyond the horizon.

So I take a deep breath, and with one final click, I delete the last remaining hold on my schedule. The time block vanishes, leaving behind an open space. A blank slate.

And in that emptiness, I choose to see possibility.

Closing the Circle: A Grateful Goodbye and a New Beginning

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We live in a world defined by exits. Visual reminders of departure surround us daily, guiding our movements, anticipating our turns, and flashing directions.

From following exit arrows in parking garages to noting emergency exits in darkened theaters, from flight attendants’ safety briefings to kindergartners learning their first important words – “exits” represent efficiency, safety, order, and protection. They structure our physical environment and shape our daily routines, whether we’re navigating unfamiliar highways or traveling well-worn paths in our communities with barely a conscious thought.

The language and metaphors of exit permeate our lives as well. We apply for exit visas before international travel, directors choreograph theatrical exits, poker players “fold” to exit a game on their own terms, and even our news media and crime shows are saturated with references to “exit wounds.” These departures are woven into the fabric of our existence – marking our physical landscapes, embedding our language, shaping our national narratives, and influencing our personal development. Yet despite their ubiquity, exits often remain invisible, overshadowed by our cultural fascination with beginnings, launches, and entries.

Perhaps in our celebration of new starts, we’ve rendered the equally important act of leaving somehow less noble by comparison.

Today, I am invoking a deeply personal ritual of goodbye to my job with the Auxano team.

Saying goodbye is never easy, especially after spending over 12 years as part of the incredible Auxano team. But as I consider a new chapter, I want to take a moment to reflect, appreciate, and look ahead with optimism.

For me, this isn’t just an exit – it’s the closing of a circle, a completion of a season filled with dedication, growth, and countless meaningful experiences. The phrase “closing the circle” often symbolizes bringing something to completion, ensuring that what was started is finished well. That’s exactly how I feel about my time on the Auxano team.

My Journey with Books and Auxano

My Auxano journey began in 2008 with books – specifically, one book and a custom bookcase holding 40 or so leadership books, designed to fit in the back of a Jeep Liberty. That initial encounter led to joining the team full-time in 2012.

My Auxano journey is ending with books – specifically, a book curated by me for each member of the current Auxano team – from my Disney library.

Books have always been a part of my life, going all the way back to my childhood. To a lesser extent, Disney has been ever-present as well. It seemed only natural to put those two together a long time ago, and I haven’t stopped yet!

As I wrapped up my time with the Auxano team earlier this week at our annual Resync, I wanted to celebrate each team member in a special way: From my 500+ book Disney library, I chose a specific book for each member of the team that conveyed a message of how their gifts and encouragement have been demonstrated to me. It is my hope they enjoy reading through the book, and as they do, they will know that I remember our times together on the team with much fondness and appreciation for their friendship.

A Legacy of Dedication

Over the past 12+years, I have had the privilege of working alongside some of the most talented, knowledgeable, and compassionate people I’ve ever met. Whether it was managing key projects, brainstorming fresh ideas, or simply being a reliable presence, I have truly cherished the opportunity to contribute and grow alongside this team.

From my early days navigating the new challenges of an almost-vertical learning curve to the most recent initiatives that pushed us forward, I have learned so much. The resilience, creativity, and shared commitment to our mission have made this journey incredibly rewarding. I am proud of what we have accomplished together, and I know that the impact of our work will continue long after I’ve moved on.

Not an Ending, But a New Beginning

While my job may be coming to an end, the relationships, lessons, and experiences of the Auxano team will stay with me forever. This job has never just been about tasks and deliverables – it has been about the people who make it all happen, and the clients we served.

Now, I am looking ahead to a new season, one filled with possibilities. Whether it’s exploring new career opportunities, diving into passion projects, or simply taking a break, I carry with me the confidence that the same qualities that served me well at Auxano and previous jobs will continue to guide me forward. Change can be daunting, but it is also exhilarating – an open door to new adventures and unforeseen opportunities.

A Heartfelt Thank You

As I close this circle with my Auxano brothers and sisters, I do so with immense gratitude. Thank you to each and every one on the Auxano team for your support, encouragement, and friendship. You have shaped my journey in ways that I will never forget. My work here has mattered, but more importantly, you have mattered to me.

While I will not be logging on to the virtual office space that Auxano thrives in every day, know that I will always carry the memories and lessons from this team with me. I celebrate all that we have accomplished together, and I look forward with excitement to what’s ahead for the team.

So here’s to closing the circle – not as a farewell, but as the completion of a journey well traveled and the beginning of a future full of promise. I can’t wait to see what’s next!

May God continue to richly bless each of you in the days ahead!

Rooted Together: Relationship Wisdom from Aspens and Redwoods

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The natural world often provides powerful metaphors for understanding human relationships. Two remarkable tree species – aspens and redwoods – offer particularly compelling lessons about connection, resilience, and growth. By examining how these trees thrive, we can gain insights into building and nurturing meaningful relationships.

Aspen Trees: The Power of Underground Connection

What appears to be a forest of individual aspen trees is actually a single living organism. Each “tree” is a stem sprouting from an extensive underground root system. This phenomenon, called a clonal colony, means that aspens are among the largest and oldest living organisms on Earth.

Lessons from Aspen Relationships:

Deep, Invisible Connections

Like aspen root systems, the strongest relationships often have connections that run deeper than what’s visible on the surface. The foundations of trust, shared history, and mutual understanding may not be apparent to outside observers but provide essential stability.

Collective Resilience 

When one aspen stem faces challenges—whether drought, disease, or fire—resources are redirected through the root system to support it. Similarly, healthy relationships involve stepping up during difficult times, offering emotional support, practical help, or simply presence when partners face hardship.

Growth Through Diversity 

Aspen colonies thrive by sending up stems of different ages and sizes. This diversity ensures the colony’s survival through varying conditions. Relationships flourish when we appreciate and leverage our differences rather than expecting uniformity.

Communication Networks 

Aspens share nutrients and chemical signals through their roots. This underground “conversation” helps the colony respond to threats and opportunities. Open, honest communication serves a similar purpose in human relationships, allowing for coordinated responses to life’s challenges.

Redwood Trees: The Strength of Community

Coastal redwoods, the world’s tallest trees, offer different but equally powerful relationship metaphors. Despite their immense height (potentially exceeding 350 feet), these giants have surprisingly shallow root systems. Their secret? The roots interlock with neighboring trees.

Lessons from Redwood Relationships:

Strength Through Interdependence 

Redwoods stay upright during storms because their roots intertwine with neighboring trees, creating a supportive network spanning acres. This teaches us that independence and interdependence aren’t mutually exclusive—the strongest individuals often have the most robust support networks.

Creating Protected Space 

Redwood groves create their own microclimate, capturing fog and moderating temperature. The interior of a redwood forest feels distinctly different from surrounding areas. Healthy relationships similarly create a “microclimate”—a safe space where both parties can thrive away from external pressures.

Patience and Longevity 

Redwoods can live over 2,000 years, growing steadily through centuries. This reminds us that meaningful relationships aren’t built overnight. The most rewarding connections develop through consistent care and attention over time.

Regenerative Capacity  

Redwoods can sprout new trees from fallen trunks or roots, demonstrating remarkable regenerative ability. Similarly, healthy relationships can recover from setbacks, sometimes growing stronger through the process of healing and renewal.

Cultivating Tree-Inspired Relationships

How can we apply these natural metaphors to strengthen our own relationships?

Nurture Root Systems – Just as trees invest energy below ground, invest in the invisible foundations of your relationships. Create shared experiences, develop trust through reliability, and establish meaningful traditions that strengthen your connections.

Practice Resource Sharing – Trees share nutrients through their roots, ensuring collective survival. In relationships, share your resources—whether time, emotional support, knowledge, or practical assistance—especially when your partner faces challenges.

Embrace Interdependence – Recognize that seeking support isn’t weakness but wisdom. Like redwoods interlocking roots, allow your support networks to bolster you, and offer the same to others.

Create Safe Environments – Just as tree canopies create protective microclimates, foster environments where vulnerability, authenticity, and growth are encouraged. Be intentional about creating spaces where relationships can flourish.

Take the Long View – Trees measure growth in decades, not days. Similarly, nurture your relationships with patience, recognizing that meaningful connections develop and deepen over time.

Aspen and redwood trees remind us that the strongest living things on our planet thrive not through isolation but through connection. Whether through the aspen’s hidden root system or the redwood’s interlocking network, these trees demonstrate that resilience comes through relationship.

By applying these natural metaphors to our own lives, we can build connections that weather storms, adapt to changing circumstances, and provide mutual support for decades to come. Like these magnificent trees, we grow stronger together than we ever could alone.

The Danger of Being the Brightest Person in the Room

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72 years ago this month, two scientists walked into their neighborhood pub in Cambridge, England, ordered their drinks, and one of them announced to the patrons “We have found the secret to life.”

This was no lie – that morning, Cambridge University scientists James D. Watson and Frances H.C. Crick had discovered the double-helix structure of DNA, the biological material that carries life’s genetic information.

On the fiftieth anniversary of that discovery, Watson took part in an interview inquiring about the aspects of their work that had led them to solve the problem ahead of an array of other highly accomplished and recognized rival scientists.

Along with the expected answers – they identified the most important part of the problem, they were passionate about their work, they devoted themselves single-mindedly to the task, they were willing to attempt approaches outside their area of familiarity – came this surprise:

Watson said that he and Crick had cracked the elusive code for DNA primarily because they were not the most intelligent scientists pursuing the answer.

Watson went on to explain that the most intelligent person working on the project in those days was Rosalind Franklin, a British scientist working in Paris at the time. According to Watson, Rosalind was so intelligent that she rarely sought advice. And if you’re the brightest person in the room, then you’re in trouble.

Watson’s comment describes exactly the error that many leaders in today’s organizations make: they believe that they are the best-informed, most-experienced, or most-skilled person in the group. They may be, but studies have repeatedly shown that the approaches and outcomes of groups who cooperate in seeking a solution are not just better than the average member working along, they are even better than the group’s best problem solver working alone.

Far too often, leaders – who by virtue of greater experience, skill, and wisdom, deem themselves the ablest problem solver in the group – fail to ask for input from team members.

  • Lone decision makers can’t match the diversity of knowledge and perspectives of a team
  • Input from others can stimulate thinking processes that wouldn’t develop on their own
  • Individual thinkers can’t parallel process – dividing parts of the problem among many members

Trying to discover the meaning of life? How about something much simpler, like a new funding initiative to increase service to one of your target groups? Or any problem facing your team?

Don’t forget the danger of being the brightest person in the room.

Still Choosing Us: A Valentine’s Day Reflection on Marriage’s Second Half

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This Valentine’s Day brings another reminder to Anita and I that we are well into the second half of marriage. For starters, we celebrated 45 years of marriage in December.

Next, over the last six weeks, we found ourselves providing care for each other as first I spent 17 days in the hospital, culminating in surgery on January 10. Then, in a show of togetherness, Anita spent 3 days in the hospital, ending up with the identical surgery exactly a month later on February 10.

If that’s not love…

It may be a fact (sadly) that our bodies are getting a little bit older, and in need of care, but I choose to take the optimistic road and say this DOES NOT make us old! 

We spent the Christmas holidays with 21 of us spending five days together. It took our house and an Airbnb down the street, but we had a wonderful, crazy time together. 10 adults, 11 children, and two dogs – we ended the holidays tired in every sense of the word but-oh-so happy.

As you can read about it here and here, Anita and I had a great time planning, preparing, and pulling the 2024 #AdamsFamilyExperience Christmas off.

As the last family left (I was already in the hospital), Anita came to visit and we both slept the afternoon away. When we woke up, we both made a remark to the tune of, “We’re absolutely worn out – when can we do it again?”

With all that said, our marriage relationship is changing. Yes, we will be doting grandparents to 11 grandchildren; yes, we will still be involved in our four children’s lives; yes, we anticipate lots of changes as they all grow up. 

But slowly, surely, we are discovering that we are moving into a season that is more partner-focused than child-focused.

Just what will that mean? Maybe some of the following:

  • Maximizing individual strengths for the benefit of both of us
  • Finding time to be companions
  • Understanding that compatibility doesn’t always mean agreement
  • Continually adjusting to each other
  • Striving to be partner focused
  • Share rather than divide
  • Make creative use of conflict
  • Work hard at communicating
  • Commitment to continued growth

So here it is Valentine’s Day and I am so thankful that I have the blessing of being married to Anita and sharing it with her. I am grateful for our first half of marriage and celebrations, but I’m excited about our second half!

How can you make the second half of your marriage better than the first?

Loosely defined, the second half of marriage comes when your kids have left home; it may also be marked by decisions a couple is making about their parent’s health and lifestyle.

We’ve had both in the past few years. 

As is my practice, I found a great resource to help this journey: David and Claudia Arp’s wonderful book The Second Half of Marriage. In their own words, here are eight strategies that will help every long-term couple make the most of their marriage:

  1. Let go of past marital disappointments, forgive each other and commit to making the rest of your marriage the best. Are you willing to let go of unmet expectations and unrealistic dreams? Or your mate’s little irritating habits that don’t seem to be disappearing? Giving up lost dreams and overlooking each other’s imperfections are positive steps toward forgiving past hurts and moving on in your marriage.
  2. Create a marriage that is partner-focused rather than child-focused. The tendency, once the kids leave, is to focus on new activities rather than on each other, but these activities can keep you from crafting a more intimate relationship. Try to focus more time and attention on your spouse.
  3. Maintain effective communication that allows you to express your deepest feelings, joys and concerns. Sometimes what worked when the kids were home doesn’t work as well now that the kids are gone. After all, you always had the children to talk about. Now that it’s just the two of you, you might need to upgrade your communication skills.
  4. Use anger and conflict creatively to build your relationship. With the kids gone, many couples find that issues they assumed were resolved resurface. Certain negative patterns of interaction that developed over the years can be deadly for an empty-nest marriage. Learn how to deal with issues and process anger in ways that build your relationship.
  5. Build a deeper friendship and enjoy your spouse. Now is a great time to deepen your friendship with each other and stretch your boundaries to prevent boredom. Think of ways to put more fun in your marriage.
  6. Renew romance and restore a pleasurable sexual relationship. Many people assume that as people grow older they lose interest in sex, but our survey results suggest otherwise. The quality of your love life is not so much a matter of performance as it is an integral part of the relationship. Take care of your health and renew romance even while acknowledging the inevitable changes that come with aging.
  7. Adjust to changing roles with aging parents and adult children. Release your children, then reconnect with them on an adult level. At the same time, your relationship with your parents may need a little altering, too. The effort you expend in forging better relationships with loved ones on both ends of the generational seesaw is well worth it.
  8. Evaluate where you are on your spiritual pilgrimage. Research indicates that most people, as they age and consider death, become more religious because they think more about what it all means. Why not consider this time of transition as an opportunity to talk more openly and regularly about your relationship with Christ: what it means, why it matters, and what it means for your marriage? Take time to serve others, too, and pass along some of the wisdom you have gained.

We’re approaching the second half of marriage as a time of learning about each other and about God’s long-term plans for our marriage. And a time of building together – sharing dreams, making commitments, and working towards a more satisfying union.

It’s day 16,506 for Anita and me – and our journey together continues!

Happy Valentines Day, Anita!

Busy is Not Better: Finding Peace in a Culture of Speed

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In a world that increasingly celebrates busyness and equates worth with productivity, John Mark Comer’s The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry is a timely and profound counterargument. This spiritual formation book, published in 2019, challenges the modern obsession with speed and efficiency by proposing a radical yet simple solution: slow down.

Through personal anecdotes, theological insights, and practical wisdom, Comer explores how the contemporary culture of hurry is not just exhausting us physically but impoverishing us spiritually. His work serves as both a cultural critique and a practical guide for those seeking to escape the crushing weight of an overcommitted, overscheduled life.

Is it possible that our productivity could actually be increased by first slowing down?

The Quick Summary – The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer

 “Who am I becoming?”

That was the question nagging pastor and author John Mark Comer. Outwardly, he appeared successful. But inwardly, things weren’t pretty. So he turned to a trusted mentor for guidance and heard these words:

“Ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life. Hurry is the great enemy of the spiritual life.”

It wasn’t the response he expected, but it was – and continues to be – the answer he needs. Too often we treat the symptoms of toxicity in our modern world instead of trying to pinpoint the cause. A growing number of voices are pointing at hurry, or busyness, as a root of much evil.

Within the pages of this book, you’ll find a fascinating roadmap to staying emotionally healthy and spiritually alive in the chaos of the modern world.

A SIMPLE SOLUTION

According to author John Mark Comer, the new normal of hurried digital distraction is robbing us of the ability to be present:

  • Present to God.
  • Present to other people.
  • Present to all that is good, beautiful, and true in our world.
  • Even present to our own souls.

The noise of the modern world makes us deaf to the voice of God, drowning out the one input we most need.

Whatever you call them: habits, practices, or spiritual disciplines are how we follow Jesus. How we adopt His lifestyle. How we create space for emotional health and spiritual life.

John Mark Comer

And like all habits, they are a means to an end. The end is life to the full with Jesus. The end is to spend every waking moment in the conscious enjoyment of Jesus’ company, to spend our entire lives with the most loving, joyful, peaceful person to ever live.

Silence and solitude

Here’s to tomorrow morning, six o’clock. Coffee, the chair by the window, the window by the tree. Time to breathe. A psalm and story from the Gospels. Hearing the Father’s voice. Pouring out my own. Or just sitting, resting. Maybe I’ll hear a word from God that will alter my destiny; maybe I’ll just process my anger over something that’s bothering me. Maybe I’ll feel my mind settle like untouched water; maybe my mind will ricochet from thought to thought, and never come to rest. If so, that’s fine. I’ll be back, same time tomorrow. Starting my day in the quiet place.

Sabbath

If your story is anything like mine, Sabbath will take you a little while to master. After all, Shabbat is a verb. It’s something you do. A practice, a skill you hone. To begin, just set aside a day. Clear your schedule. Turn off your phone! Say a prayer to invite the Holy Spirit to pastor you into His presence. And then? Rest and worship. In whatever way is life giving for your soul. And something happens about halfway through the day, something hard to put language to. It’s like my should catches up to my body. Like some deep part of me that got beat up and drowned out by meetings and email and Twitter and relational conflict and the difficulty of life comes back to the surface of my heat. I feel free. And at the end of the day when I turn my phone back on and reenter the modern world, I do so slowly. And, wow, does that ever feel good.

Simplicity

The goal isn’t just to declutter your closet or garage but to declutter your life. To clear away the myriad of distractions that ratchet up our anxiety, feed us an endless stream of mind-numbing drivel, and anesthetize us to what really matters. To follow Jesus, especially in the Western world, is to live in that same tension between grateful, happy enjoyment of nice, beautiful things, and simplicity. And when to err on the side of generous, simple living. The truth is you can be happy right here, right now, “through Christ who strengthens me,” meaning through investing your resources in ongoing relational connections to Jesus. Right now you have everything you need to live a happy, content life; you have access to the Father. To His loving attention.

Slowing

The basic idea behind the practice of slowing is this: slow down your body, slow down your life. If we can slow down both our minds and bodies – the pace at which we think and the pace at which we move our bodies through the world – maybe we can slow down our souls to a pace at which they can “taste and see the the Lord is good.” John Ortberg and Richard Foster both label this emerging practice the spiritual discipline of “slowing.” Ortberg defined it as “cultivating patience by deliberately choosing to place ourselves in positions where we have to wait. There’s more to life than an increase in speed. Life is right under our noses, waiting to be enjoyed.

John Mark Comer, The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry

Comer’s writing style is engaging and relatable, blending historical Christian wisdom with contemporary cultural analysis. He draws from diverse sources, including the Desert Fathers, Eugene Peterson, and modern psychology, while maintaining an accessible tone that feels like a conversation with a wise friend.

The book’s strengths lie in its practical applications and Comer’s vulnerability about his own struggles. He doesn’t just theorize about slowing down; he provides concrete steps and real-world examples. His insights about how technology and social media contribute to our collective hurry sickness are particularly astute.

What makes this book stand out is its timing and relevance. In an era where burnout is endemic and anxiety levels are soaring, Comer’s message feels prophetic. He’s not just addressing individual wellness but diagnosing a broader cultural malady.

The book succeeds in making a compelling case that hurry is not just a scheduling problem but a spiritual one. It challenges readers to consider how their pace of life affects their spiritual and emotional wellbeing, relationships, and overall quality of life.

For those feeling overwhelmed by the pace of modern life, “The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry” offers both a theoretical framework for understanding their condition and practical tools for making changes. While the solutions Comer proposes are radical by modern standards, he makes a convincing argument that such radical measures are exactly what we need.

The book is ultimately a call to countercultural living, suggesting that the path to a meaningful life might not be found in doing more faster, but in doing less slower.

A NEXT STEP

John Mark Comer believes that unlike other types of habits, the practices of Jesus aren’t just exercises for your mind and body to grow their willpower muscle and cultivate character. They are far more: they are how we open our minds and bodies to a power far beyond our own and effect change.

The four disciplines listed above may seem like a strange way to become more productive, but in the sugar-rush of the busy lives we are leading, slowing down will actually help you become better at what you do.

For excellent guidance on these disciplines, be sure to download the author’s workbook to accompany his book.

Toward which of the four disciplines are you feeling led by the Holy Spirit? What is one step to take today?

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based, current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

Along with early and ongoing encouragement from my parents – especially my father – reading was established as a passion in my life that I was happy to continually learn from, share with my children, and watch them share with their children.

Reading keeps our minds alive and growing.

Becoming a Beginner Again: Finding New Purpose in Life’s Second Act

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The journey through midlife (ages 45-65) often brings us to an unexpected crossroads – one where we’re invited to transform our relationship with success, purpose, and personal growth. While our earlier years might have been dominated by external measures of achievement (what we do, what others think, what we own, and what we control), midlife presents an opportunity for a profound shift in perspective.

Developmental psychologist Erik Erikson suggests a powerful alternative mindset: “I am what survives me.” This simple yet profound reframing encourages us to consider our legacy and impact on future generations, moving beyond immediate gratification to focus on lasting contribution.

Think of yourself as a plant that occasionally needs repotting to flourish. Throughout our careers, we accumulate valuable seeds of knowledge and wisdom. Midlife offers the perfect opportunity to transplant these seeds into new soil, allowing us to grow in different directions. With decades of experience, we’re better equipped to recognize the environments where our talents will thrive.

The modern workplace increasingly supports this evolution. The pandemic accelerated the trend toward flexible work arrangements, with more companies offering phased retirement options. This shift acknowledges that stepping back from full-time work doesn’t mean retiring completely – instead, it’s an invitation to reimagine how we can apply our skills and knowledge in new ways.

One of the most valuable contributions older professionals can make is teaching and mentoring. As Arthur C. Brooks notes, the best synthesizers and explainers of complex ideas tend to be in their mid-60s or older. This makes intuitive sense – wisdom accumulated over decades creates natural teachers. Beyond technical expertise, older professionals offer “invisible productivity” – the ability to elevate the performance of entire teams through their well-developed social skills and emotional intelligence.

The key to thriving in this new chapter lies in becoming a beginner again. While it might seem counterintuitive to start fresh when you’ve mastered certain skills, introducing novelty into your life creates distinct memories and actually slows down your perception of time. When we engage in new activities that put us in a state of flow, we temporarily lose track of time, creating a psychological pause in aging.

Curiosity plays a crucial role in this reinvention process. Like hunger or thirst, curiosity creates a dopamine-fueled motivation to seek information and learn. Particularly valuable is what author Jeff Wetzler calls “connective curiosity” – the desire to understand others’ thoughts, experiences, and feelings. This form of curiosity, rooted in the Latin word for “care,” becomes an act of genuine interest in others that deepens relationships and learning opportunities.

To maintain your curiosity, practice what Simon T. Bailey calls “vujá dé” – the opposite of déjà vu. This means seeing familiar situations with fresh eyes and understanding common experiences in new ways. It’s about finding extraordinary insights in ordinary moments through careful observation and openness to new perspectives.

I’m reminded of a quote by Alexandra Horowitz: In childhood, then, attention is brightened by two features: children’s neophilia (love of new things) and the fact that, as young people, they simply haven’t seen it all before.

Can you learn to have the curiosity of a child again?

Having rediscovered this curiosity, what does that mean for our legacy?

Most of us want to leave a legacy, even in the smallest ways. Here are five questions that could help define your legacy:

  1. Who will benefit most from what you leave behind?
  2. What invisible but valuable gifts can you offer?
  3. How will you prepare and deliver your legacy?
  4. When is the most meaningful time to share your wisdom?
  5. Why does this matter to you personally?

Here’s some wisdom from David Viscott: “The purpose of life is to discover your gift. The work of life is to develop it. The meaning of life is to give your gift away.” Midlife isn’t about retiring from life – it’s about transitioning from “human doing” to “human being.” It’s an opportunity to move beyond the pursuit of happiness to the practice of joy, finding fulfillment in sharing your accumulated wisdom and experience with others.

My journey of becoming a Modern Elder involves embracing both the wisdom I’ve gained and the beginner’s mind that keeps me growing. By maintaining my curiosity, seeking new challenges, and focusing on meaningful contribution, I am creating a second half of life that’s as rich and rewarding as the first – perhaps even more so.

This transformation doesn’t happen automatically – it requires intentional effort to see familiar situations with new eyes and remain open to learning from others. Surrounding yourself with people who challenge your thinking and illuminate your blind spots helps maintain this growth mindset. As I continue to navigate this transition, I am reminded that my greatest contribution might not be in what I do, but in how I help others grow and develop through my accumulated wisdom and experience.