We welcomed our third child into the family in May. Two weeks before she was born, the company I had worked at for ten years let me go. My wife was spending much of this season caring for the newborn. My responsibility, apart from finding the next role in my career, was to care for the two oldest girls, aged five and three.

As this venture began, I noticed similarities between my house and the business world. Life seemed to be very transactional here. From the moment their eyes opened, the requests began.

“Dad, can you get me some juice? Dad, can you help me find my toys? Dad, can we go to the park? Dad, watch this!”

If this was coming from only one kid, it would be a lot, but two at the same time was twice the challenge.

The business world is full of people who complain. Some people complain about their salary, others about their boss. This was normal in the workplace. It was even more popular with little girls carrying big feelings. When there was no request waiting to be fulfilled, there was usually some expression of dissatisfaction taking its place.

“Dad, I don’t want to stay here! I want to go to the park! (Even though it’s like 100 degrees out.) Dad, Sissy took my pony and won’t give it back! Dad, I don’t want to go to sleep at bedtime; I want to stay up late!”

Coming into this situation, I was unprepared for the demand on my attention. There was no way I could give every request and complaint my full attention. I was wearing down fast. Unable to keep up, my mind naturally tuned out requests or complaints that did not seem important. The many words exchanged daily failed to create deeper relationships with my kids. During this time off, this was something I was really hoping to establish.

Then, one night...

A Conversation Like No Other

After getting them ready for bed, I stayed a little longer than usual after the youngest fell asleep. Something of great value happened.

The five-year-old began talking. This was not about transactions or complaints, but deep thoughts and feelings. I learned why she has trouble falling asleep at night. She talked about what happens when you die, with such big questions for a little mind. We discussed the omniscience and omnipotence of God. She explained why she had been complaining so much that day and that she was very sorry.

I cannot put into words the value of this conversation.

As I lay in bed that night, I replayed the moment over and over, thinking about how lucky I was to have been a part of that conversation. It seemed to have touched the deepest part of my heart.

For the first time, I understood the value of being a father in a way I never had before.

Why was it only after five years that something as sweet as this had taken place?

Were these moments longing to happen?

Was I missing them?

She told me one night that she had a lot of questions and things she wanted to say, but I always leave at night before she can say them. I realized that something had to change. As I reflected on this, there were two things I saw.

The Competition for Attention

The first thing I noticed was that there was a competition for my attention during the day. Whenever one kid starts telling me something, the other kid realizes there is something she wanted to tell me too. They end up telling me at the same time.

Whenever one girl wants to sit on my lap, the other one realizes that’s what she wants too.

Every time I engage in an activity with one, the other wants to play too, but with something different.

I am a very competitive guy, yet there was a competition going on that I did not seem to know was happening.

They both wanted to be heard and seen by their father.

Not only were they competing for attention, but ultimately they were asking a simple question. “Am I important to you?”

I was not giving them the proper outlet for this to happen.

One Child at a Time

I decided I would start separating them a little during the day.

Day one, I took the youngest to the library with me by herself. We then went down the street to the candy store to get her favorite candy. After this, we stopped at her grandmothers’ to hang out for the rest of the hour. Honestly, I don’t think she said one word to me. She is the quiet one. Yet from the way she acted when she got home, I could tell that moment made her feel special.

Day two, I brought the oldest to the same candy store. I don’t think she had stopped talking the whole way there. Following the candy store, we then ate lunch at a local favorite across the street. She told the waitress, “I’m on a date with my dad.” I could witness the joy she was experiencing at that moment. Her smile never left her face, and she continually told me how much she loved that we were doing this together.

I learned that these two girls were very different. Although they expressed themselves in different ways, they both wanted to be important to their father. They both wanted a time when they could have my undivided attention with no competition. This was not happening naturally around the house.

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Going Through the Motions

The second thing I noticed was more about me. I seem to be very transactional down to my wiring. Completed tasks are how I have always measured progress. If a task doesn’t bring me closer to a goal, my mind quietly dismisses it. This can be good in business, but for interacting with family, you miss the moments hidden within.

One place I realized I was very transactional was at bedtime. My goal was to go through the routine and get them to sleep as fast as possible, and get back to what I was doing. My wife mostly handled this area when I was previously working, but because of the demands of a new baby, this responsibility has fallen on me.

It was the time when I did not immediately leave after completing what my mind had turned into a set of process work instructions that I had this amazing, heartfelt conversation with my daughter.

I decided I would try to add value to this part of our day, and I created a story about a talking otter I met in a mill creek while working my last job. The story became a hit! Every night they would ask if I could tell them another story about the talking otter named Mr. Roofus. AI made me an image of what I thought the otter might look like, with a theme song for the stories.

The oldest told me the night of the second story, “When I think of Mr. Roofus, I don’t have bad dreams anymore.”

The Priceless Things We Stop Seeing

As I look back and examine this period, there is one thing that really stands out to me.

I understand now that it is so easy to get busy with life that you find yourself just going through the motions, without really being present. As you do the same things over and over, they lose value in the market of your attention.

Unrecognized, precious years of your life go by before you realize you have lost something priceless that you cannot recover.

How long would I have continued to go through the motions if I did not have the chance to slow down and reflect on my life?

Losing my job seemed like a bad thing at first. People rarely associate an event like this with anything positive. If I could go back in time, I would want to be fired sooner. Jobs come and go, but these moments appear once in a lifetime. Discovering this sooner would have been worth more than any amount of money.

Looking back, this season is no longer branded with a job loss. I now see it as the one in which I found my daughters.

Are you just going through the motions?

The Untapped Potential

The storeroom was what I called home at the historic chemical company I worked in for nine years. The sweet smell of animal fat was so normal to me I hardly even noticed it.

I moved into this role three years earlier after deciding to return to school for my MBA. It paid less, but I viewed it as a strategic step towards where I wanted to go.

My plan did not work out as quickly as I expected.

Every role I applied for after joining the storeroom led to rejection. I figured my company experience, positive recommendations, and my education level qualified me for these roles already, even though I had not yet finished the degree.

The consistent rejection was hard to digest. It was confusing. I did not understand how my loyalty and success there resulted in such hesitation and doubt.

My hope was dwindling.

I pursued opportunities outside the company and had no genuine success in this venture either. Then, I received an email from my employer regarding an interview with the manager in Customer Service.

What could this be about? I didn’t apply for a customer service job.

We talked for a little while and the interview instantly felt different from the previous ones at the company. It felt as though the purpose of the previous interviewer’s questions was to decide why I shouldn’t have the job. This woman seemed to build a case for me to have the job.

Shortly after this interview, I received a callback from an outside company. They wanted to bring me in for a third interview about a position that I had been working to transition into.

The day of the third interview arrived. During the workday, I received another email mentioning that the Customer Service Manager wanted to meet with me again. I went upstairs, and she was sitting in a conference room with a job offer in her hand.

This would be a lateral move. They explained it was a necessary step for getting into the office environment since I had no experience. I was optimistic about working for this woman. I canceled the other interview that day and continued with the company in which I had dedicated nine years of my life.

One question continued to linger in my mind.

What did she see in me that the other interviewers didn’t?

My original goal was to move into the Production Planner role from the storeroom. This was the role they had already rejected me for. I was now starting as a customer service agent, understanding that I was working towards the Production Planner role I had wanted from the beginning.

There is no profit in lying to you; starting this role instead of the role I wanted did not excite me in the beginning. I needed a better-paying role since I took a pay cut in moving to the storeroom. This role did not solve my financial problem, but it gave me hope I was one step closer to the role that would.

Instantly, this role won my heart over.

The people I worked with were great. I was the only male in the department and the others treated me as if I were a brother. The manager who gave me the job was great. I have worked for terrible bosses before, but I did not have this problem here.

This woman invested in me in a way that made me feel like I was a winning lottery ticket. She coached me through the problems I brought to her, handed me problems that would develop my skills, recognized my work ethic and my ideas, and gave them the space to flourish. She also vouched for me with the management in the department I wanted to join.

Halfway through, the planning department gave me related responsibilities as a test to see if I could handle it. I saw immediate success with the extra responsibilities.

After about four months of success, I wondered how much longer I would have to succeed here before they gave me the job. I had little hope in them, for they had found many reasons to turn me away before.

I looked outside the company again.

I was honest with my manager about this. Many times my truest thoughts came to light in her office. I told her I felt like I had consistently proved that I deserved more from the company. She listened every time, offering words of encouragement and challenging where she thought necessary.

The day came when I had an interview at a company that seemed like a good fit, and I informed her of what was going on.

I thought the interview at this company went very well, and I was optimistic about how it might turn out. I mentioned this to her, and she seemed to share my excitement.

Then, the strangest thing happened...

After work that day, I received a random call on my cell phone from the Director of Supply Chain. She said, “Corey, I apologize for calling you after hours, but I did not think this could wait. We want to offer you the Production Planner role at this pay. What do you think? Think about it over the weekend and let me know Monday.”

I felt as if I had finally made it to the top of Everest. The tense feelings in my shoulders loosened as the pressure I had been under for all these years no longer found a home in my situation. I poured my last swig of Blanton’s celebrating. All of those years of hard work and dedication had finally paid off.

However, there was something very interesting about this offer.

The exact position and pay were what I mentioned to the Customer Service Manager in a conversation maybe a week prior. She never confessed to this being her work, but there is no way you could tell me otherwise.

In the timeframe I interviewed with her for the customer service job, I also had two interviews with the planning team. I had the same resume for both interviews and the same amount of experience.

After the interview with planning, they were concerned about my ability to work in an office setting and my lack of planning experience. They ended up offering the job to a current customer service rep who also had no planning experience.

However, the customer service manager also understood I had no office experience, but saw something worth giving me a chance. Of course, the Production Planner role was a higher-paying job, but it was no less important.

This woman gave me a chance. Why?

Who Are These People?

I have had people like this show up at the right times all throughout my life.

As far back as I can remember, I had a football coach do the same thing. Throughout my entire football career, I had played positions I hated, such as offensive lineman and defensive end. I was a smaller guy, not really built for these positions.

However, this coach came along and started me at running back, strong safety, punter, and punt returner. I had the best season of my life. I had several games with multiple touchdowns coming from both sides of the ball.

He found me over 20 years later on Facebook and says, “I remember you were my MVP for 8th grade football, ha ha. Baller! Ha ha you ran the rock hard! And had some picks on D if I remember correctly!”

Even earlier at the chemical company, when I was simply content with the status quo, a manager noticed something in me and instantly invested in me. Although the woman from customer service takes the lead role in this story, that is to no discredit to this man.

Through this man’s investment and building me up, I saw no limits to my capabilities. This man invested relentlessly in my success at the company. Professionally, I think this guy affected me more than any of the degrees I achieved or any other career-related activities.

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They Must Have A Name

The common denominator in all these situations was that these people seemed to recognize something no one else did. If it were just one example, maybe we could say it was a coincidence or that I am just reading into the story.

However, it has happened similarly in the three stories I mentioned, plus the stories I did not have the space to discuss.

Without these people, my life would have taken a completely different trajectory. Their value to me is priceless.

I call these people the Recognizers. I have considered these people and events to such a great extent that it only made sense to give them a name.

These people are not unique to my life.

I bet you can recall people in your life who acted as the Recognizers in mine did, perceiving a value that others did not see. Maybe even your worth when you were blind to it.

A Historic Office

I read a lot of biographies and have noticed the Recognizers nearly everywhere.

Consider William Farel and John Calvin. George Washington and the young Alexander Hamilton. Jerry West and Steph Curry. These are not basic people, but people known for significant achievements.

History is filled with people who recognized greatness before everyone else did.

Can you imagine how history may have changed were it not for these Recognizers?

In each case, these people looked beyond the obvious. They saw beyond the résumés and the opinions of others to something deeper, not yet apparent.

Mostly the same players were on every football team I played for, yet I played the wrong positions for years. This coach made me a leader on the team and put me in a position where my skills could flourish. Talents, I am convinced, were there long before.

Jerry West recognized potential in Steph Curry that others couldn’t see. George Washington recognized something exceptional in Alexander Hamilton that others didn’t. Calvin may have become a lawyer instead of the renowned theologian if not for Farel’s charge.

The Impact

The Recognizers were one of my primary motivations in starting The Dusty Muzzle. There is value in recognizing things that others don’t.

How much have I been missing my whole life?

I am not sure I will ever understand everything I missed. However, one thing I am not missing is the value of this role. How it has impacted me and how I can impact the lives of others by being one.

I don’t feel confident today that anybody is writing stories about me and how I changed their lives.

Maybe I have just been soaking in the benefits of being recognized without opening my heart to those in my life who are worth the recognition. Maybe these people became the Recognizers after they were first recognized.

More than an Essay

“Do you want to do something tonight?” My wife asked with quiet excitement. “I would, but I have to write this essay for class,” I responded, watching the hope melt away from her face.

During this period of my life, my schoolwork consumed me on the weekends.

I started an associate degree in web design in early adulthood. Following my ADHD and curiosity wherever it took me, I next pursued a bachelor’s in biblical studies and theology. Finally, at this moment, I was committed to a master’s degree in business administration, which put a damper on end-of-week activities.

The essay I set out to write that night would likely take an hour or two, despite being two to five thousand words. I would go upstairs to write, intending to dedicate the entire night to the task at hand, only to come down a little later with everything done. She responded with, “Did you seriously write that whole essay this fast?” I noticed nothing out of the ordinary. It was not as if I had examined other people in their essay writing my whole life.

All Roads Lead to One

If you have read previous essays on The Dusty Muzzle, it will be of no surprise that I was involved in music for many years of my life. This era of my life resulted in a catalog of over a hundred songs.

Looking back, it was interesting to me that the songs I wrote during this period seemed to flow seamlessly from my mind to the notepad.

I remember sitting in studios after first hearing a beat. I would write the hook and a verse, and often have it recorded before others finished writing their verse. This all appeared rather normal to me, but looking back, I started noticing a pattern related to writing.

Where else have I seen this before?

Ever since the music, I have carried this unexplainable urge to produce some sort of creative product.

I started a podcast. Research showed me that most podcasters operated from a set of notes. My podcast comprised reading a manuscript that appeared somewhat effortlessly from my pen.

I have also started YouTube channels hoping to satisfy this urge. Following suit from the podcast, this was also a product of my reading a manuscript that I put together.

I have written many sermons and teachings that also flowed directly from a manuscript.

These examples display multiple pursuits born from a desire to explore an idea.

However, the friction that existed in the adventures was always what came after the writing.

Mixing and mastering songs was burdensome. The same goes for the editing of the podcast. The YouTube videos were no different. Although I enjoy preaching and teaching, the delivery burdened me long before I ever stood before the people.

Writing was at the core of these expressive journeys. The burning coal of the train puffed out as the adventures brought me past writing.

A Hunger for Answers

Most people would probably look at this and see random, unrelated circumstances.

Looking beyond the surface to find the truth that hides itself in the details has rewarded me immensely. It was not until I set my eye behind the microscope that important questions emerged.

I began wondering why writing feels so natural? Why do I find writing so enjoyable? What would happen if pursued writing in itself? Would I persevere longer than I have in these other areas?

I began squeezing these questions with the pressure of unfinished pursuits so that answers might burst forth.

Before any explanations manifested, my fingers were clicking away violently in Obsidian, piecing the puzzle together.

Wrestling with the Questions

As the pieces fit together, I wondered if my imagination was the primary driver of my writing. Not imagination in the sense of having been a great reader of literature, but more in the sense of what is possible?

This might explain my interest in music.

As I continued to write songs, the skill of translating emotions and thoughts into words became easier and easier.

I can remember the first song I wrote. Much of the time consisted in trying to figure out what I was going to say. I had little experience writing prior to this and was unsure of who I was and how to even say what I wanted to say.

As I continued writing music lyrics, I noticed how the instrumental exposed me.

The melody and rhythm of the beat spoke to emotions I did not understand. It brought up memories I had almost forgotten. Thoughts I had never thoroughly considered.

Writing lyrics was now as simple as having a conversation. The beat served as a catalyst for discovery. The song itself became evidence of a discovery.

The craft of creating music occupied ten vivid years of my life.

Schooling poked its head into my life during the musical beginnings.

College work was full of essays. Honestly, essays that I found worthless. The result was that I was naturally trying to reach the word count as quickly as possible to turn it in.

Musically, the instrumental was the prompt that generated a discussion. In school, the assignment acted in this manner.

Either way, I quickly knew how I would respond and had no trouble getting the sentences out on paper.

Was this because I was using writing to discover the answer?

The avenues of podcasting, YouTube, and preaching all lead to the same stream. I was doing the same thing I had always been doing.

I still could not understand why the writing happened so fast or why I enjoyed it so much.

A Discovery of Discovery

That is until I discovered something significant.

Writing was a journey into unknown territory.

Through my writing, I was discovering what was possible.

These were not things that settled in my head, but seemed to take place as I started writing words on the paper.

Reinforcing the Evidence

I recently finished reading a Dostoyevsky book called The Idiot. I researched this book before I read it, and one thing that stood out to me was what may have inspired him to write this novel.

He seemed to wonder what would happen if you put a good and caring person like the Prince into Russian society? If this happened during this time, with these characters, how would the story play out?

Ultimately, his curiosity led him to write to discover what was possible.

One of the striking things about this novel is that it does not seem that he started with the end in mind. Moreso, the ending developed as characters naturally arrived there based on how they would legitimately act in these situations.

I am convinced the same forces are at play in my writing.

If you consider the essays that I write here, many start with an experience. This experience leads to a question.

Through my writing, I am considering the question and examining the possibility of how I can explain it. Often I don’t know the answer until I arrive near the end of the essay.

Sometimes I even think I have it figured out until my writing escorts me to a completely different conclusion than before.

Such is the mystery of writing.

It becomes very clear when I examine my process for creating a sermon.

The passages I teach on, I have read many times before. I try to read through the Bible every year and study different passages at random times.

However, until I turn that passage into a vehicle and send it down the road of possibility, I rarely arrive at thoughtful conclusions. This process of writing to explain is also for me, writing for discovery.

The Hidden Treasure

Throughout these past months, my reading and writing have been a staple of my existence.

They also act as fuel for one another.

My reading creates questions that find their way into my notes. Then I take these questions from my notes and set out for exploration through writing. These notes don’t always turn into essays, but they are of great value.

My instinct was to monetize this. I believed all work must produce a product of value to others.

This was when the most profound of discoveries approached me.

If my writing never left my note app, the process itself was golden!

I spent years believing the value was in a completed work.

I realize now the product was simply evidence that something priceless has already taken place.

A Night to Remember

It was Saturday, December 21, 2013.

I can still remember the excitement as I paced around my room, visualizing how this night would play out.

Up to this point in my life, I invested every drop of energy I had into achieving a successful music career. This night here in the cold month of December was the product of continual hard work and many late nights.

It felt like it was becoming more than just music.

My team was the headliner for the show. There was a flyer with our names and pictures on it. The concept of the show was based on my “High Potential” themes that expressed themselves everywhere my music was concerned.

There would be other artists opening for our team, bringing their unique messages and fans with them.

The flyer asked, “Who got potential?”

This concert was during the peak of my music career. What started as recording songs on a cheap computer microphone in my bedroom developed into something larger.

As I began reflecting on this musical journey, I also began wondering how this even happened.

The young man who was recording music in his bedroom at fifteen certainly did not know where this journey would take him.

What was the medium that brought the solo music enthusiast to the headliner of a concert?

An Unexpected Journey

The musical journey started as a silly little thing I did in my free time. At this age, I was obsessed with rap music. This was during the rise of programs like Napster, in which music was widely available to anyone with a computer.

I consumed as much rap music as I could and often had the newest music as soon as it came out.

I can attribute one specific moment in my life that changed me from a consumer to a creator.

I was spending time at a friend’s house, and his brother had some of his friends over hanging out on the porch. As a young kid, and I imagine my friend felt the same way, it was always cool to be accepted by the older guys into their group.

As we joined them on the porch, I noticed a boombox blaring one of the newest rap albums from it. There were four to five guys sitting in a circle, moving their heads to the rhythm of the beat as if they were somehow connected to the radio. After a short while, one guy noticed something that the rapper said in his music, and it blew his mind. It moved him in a way that I had never experienced.

Suddenly...

This man opened his mouth and started rapping over the lyrics, still somehow connected to the beat. I remember sitting there, wondering where these words came from? He was not simply rapping along to the artist’s words, but they were his own.

Did he write these before?

If so, where was the paper he was reading from?

This entire process seemed to be executed from his mind. I felt as though I was witnessing something extraordinary happening. Before long, each member of the group chimed in just as soon as one finished.

It was shortly after I bought a ten-dollar computer microphone, downloaded an instrumental, and tried to make my own song. It turns out freestyle, as they call it, was what I witnessed at my friend’s house that day. I remember trying this. My version sounded nothing like what I had heard days before.

I decided I would write something to record on the instrumental.

Looking back, my words were meaningless. They did not connect to anything about me, only to what I heard other artists talking about.

The Missing Link

This craft seemed to have ended here until I reached the age of nineteen. At a crossroads in my life, I wondered what came next?

I invested in some high-quality musical equipment. The recording started, and before I knew it, I was receiving support from my entire network of friends.

Then came opportunities to perform at different venues around the city.

These were certainly business schemes, not necessarily that someone found my music and wanted to sell tickets based on my talent.

It was after maybe the third show that someone I worked with at a Red Lobster asked me, what is your plan for the music? Yes, the seafood kitchen. This question surprisingly stumped me. This revealed that I had no plan, no big picture for this dream.

Maybe a month after this question, this person was in my home studio and we were creating a song.

What seemed to me as a fun way of expressing myself, this guy saw as an opportunity for business. What appeared to be a hobby with my friends, he saw as an opportunity to take before a much larger audience.

I spent all this time building the structure of the boat; he looked and saw that it was missing the sails.

A Movement is Born

A couple of months later, we recorded our first music video and were performing at events with other local artists. The first few performances were just us. No followers of ours showed up.

Then, finally, there was an opportunity at a performance for a larger crowd. We were going to open for someone I grew up listening to. It seemed like a big deal to me.

At this event, something different happened. My partner in the music business, prior to joining this adventure, had built a reputation in the clubs around the city. He had a large group of friends, each with unique personalities, who were collectively part of this reputation.

These people began showing up with us at the shows. Instead of only two people walking through the doors of the venue, there were around ten. These people were at home in the club. They understood the environment. The environment energized them, and they seemed to reflect that energy back into the environment.

This made the movement seem much larger than just two people showing up by themselves.

For the next year, nearly all these people showed up to every show. Every appearance radiated energy. My friends began joining the group, finding a home in the movement even though many of them did not make music.

This musical adventure proved to be more than I had ever expected.

The Unexpected Element

A highly pivotal point arrived in this journey.

My music partner challenged me. He said he was doing all the work, and I was not doing my part. He was right. I was enjoying all the moments of this journey without working to create value in the journey itself.

I wondered just how big this music dream of mine could be.

The change in mindset led to building my Twitter following to nearly 30,000 followers. The Twitter network led to a music manager finding us from Canada. This led to producers finding us who wanted to be part of the team.

A guy I went to school with just got back from college, having achieved a degree in music engineering. We now had an engineer.

It seemed like many of the things that had been missing at the beginning were now falling into place.

We had a team.

A House on Fire

However, something changed that was not apparent to us. Many members of the hype-crew withdrew from the shows. Before long, it seemed to be just my partner and me at the shows. A couple of loyal fans also followed.

The movement seemed to have lost its excitement.

The energy that the hype-crew brought was not only in themselves or the environment, but seemed to have also energized me.

I reevaluated this dream. Was this really what I wanted? Would being a famous and successful rapper give me the life I wanted?

Maybe a year later, I retired from the music industry.

Don’t get me wrong, I did not leave the music industry because it got hard. I consider the work it took to reach our peak was the hardest. The reason I retired was likely the same reason that many of the hype-crew did.

They no longer found a place to call home in the movement.

Making Sense of It All

Everything that appeared to be essential to a successful music group — the manager, producers, engineers, venues, etc. — proved to be important, but was most certainly not the lifeblood of the movement.

The lifeblood of the movement was the hype-crew. The people who felt like this was their movement, who showed up at the concerts which expanded our musical image.

The most essential part of the movement proved to be the people who found a home in it.

During this time without the hype-crew, of course, we were making songs. These were probably the best songs we made.

However, when we went to perform these songs, the energy wasn’t the same.

If we had had the hype-crew at its peak, at the same time all the other elements attached, I believe we would have achieved much better results in the industry.

So what made this musical adventure feel like home?

For the hype-crew, I believe the concerts were where they thrived. The energy that brought it to life was what they contributed. When the identity of the movement shifted towards the music business, it became harder to see where they fit.

This made me question whether I even belonged.

The hospitality was a key ingredient in the movement’s success.

The word hospitality seems out of place in this concept. Yet, what is finding yourself at home, if not a result of hospitality?

If you were to ask me during this time what a movement needed to be successful, I can guarantee this word would not have come from my mouth.

The interesting thing regarding this observation is that I don’t believe it applies only to a music career. I believe that this is an important aspect of every movement.

What happens at the workplace when it no longer feels like home? People look for different places to work.

What happens when somebody visits a church and receives poor hospitality? They likely feel that this church is not their home.

The same thing happens in families and friendships.

How Does This Concern Me?

If you were questioning whether you could relate to the topic of what I call a movement, we have seen how it is involved in many aspects of life. Maybe there is a better word for it, but this is the one that is especially true to my musical journey.

I am convinced that everyone is looking for a place to call home.

Through many of my adventures, such as music and chess, these people found me. Whether we are talking about managers and producers or coaches, people recognized something about me and what I was trying to do and wanted to be a part of it.

In both scenarios, I was still building the house with limited expertise. For someone to come along and bring their skills and tools to help me, that was priceless.

Think about the great people in history. What is one thing they all have in common? They didn’t do it by themselves. They found people knocking at their doors who had a place in what they were trying to accomplish and let them in.

Are your doors open or closed?

A Question About Conversation

Have you ever wondered why it is harder to talk to some people rather than others? Why is it that some conversations seem awkward while others don’t? Is it because of the people you are talking to, or maybe the topic of your conversation?

This has always been a mystery to me. The feeling that naturally arises from this is that I must be doing something wrong. Some people can have great conversations with nearly everyone they meet, while only a select few of my conversations don’t end with me finding a way out because they are getting awkward.

I have set out to uncover what lies beneath the conversations that are the most enjoyable, and what is happening in the ones that aren’t. For the sake of respect and privacy, I won’t be using real names or places in this article.

Two Conversations That Didn’t Make Sense

There is one person whom I see frequently, with whom I try to avoid conversation by all means. Yes, this may seem mean, but we naturally gravitate towards those with whom we have much in common. I like the person, but I don’t always like the things we talk about in our conversations. This leads to avoidance. However, when we are talking, the awkward feeling I spoke of does not exist in a place that I expected it to. Although I find little interest in what is being said, there is an unexplainable satisfaction after the conversation.

There is another person to whom I speak frequently. This person and I have a lot in common. We discuss things that are interesting and have similar views on the topics. Before long, the conversation becomes awkward, and I am grasping for a way out. This is a place where I do not expect awkwardness to exist, yet it does!

To understand what is going on under the surface in these conversations, I examined the conversations that were enjoyable to me. I wanted to understand who these people were and what made their conversations enjoyable. Upon understanding this, I wanted to find principles that could apply to future conversations that would make them enjoyable for both parties. This would lead to connections with people I may not have previously connected with.

The Conversation I Didn’t Want to End

Let’s look at an enjoyable conversation I had recently.

This conversation started with me introducing a topic that I had been considering recently. I wanted an honest opinion on what this person thought about it. I mentioned my theory, and the person appeared to light up at it. The person paused as though the question deserved consideration. The person then began speaking aloud to test the theory against what they knew. This process seemed to bring excitement to them. Then followed a well-considered response. I examined this response and asked another question, excited to dive deeper. As the conversation continued, excitement continued to grow. Curiosity was shining through the window. The depths of what we could uncover appeared endless.

Someone interrupted the conversation.

I was sad.

There was more road to travel that would now remain in the shadows.

The adventure was over.

The Conversation That Never Began

I had this same conversation with another person. I introduced my topic in the same way and handed the conversation over. This person quickly thought about it and spouted the first answer that came to mind. The response seemed insufficient. There was no joy, no excitement. The next words from this person changed the subject. The adventure was over before it had even begun. I felt like I had just changed into my trunks to go swimming, and this person told me it was already time to leave. In a way, it hurt. This topic was important to me, yet deemed no consideration on their part.

The latter conversation, however, was not awkward but unenjoyable. I would like to examine the mechanics of an awkward conversation before making sense of it all.

An Experiment

This awkward conversation was with someone I was meeting for the first time. Although I did not know the person, I heard a lot about them from mutual acquaintances. The conversation began with the usual small-talk. After the first minute or two, the conversation turned in an awkward direction. There was a lack of comfort, an invisible wall between us. The conversation became challenging. I did not know what else to say.

There was also a problem. We were stuck in the same place. The event would not be over for a few hours.

Then came an awareness of the situation at hand.

I have considered this topic before.

This would be a perfect time to experiment.

I introduced a topic that I knew they were familiar with. A topic that I heard this person might have powerful feelings about. I made myself vulnerable, presenting my views.

With the wrong person, these views might self-destruct. With the right person, they would create a rapport to the very core of their existence.

Before I realized it, we had been talking for hours, and now it was time to go. We had traveled down many roads in these discussions, one topic leading to another. A friendship was forged through these conversational adventures.

What started as awkward turned profitable and enjoyable.

The Adventure

What do we learn from these scenarios?

There must be a connection.

At first, they all seem random. Different people, different places.

As I examined the patterns, the thread connecting them all emerged.

The word that continues to cross my mind is adventure.

Recently, I discovered that someone I know and I have a mutual friend. Rather than talking about who they were, we shared the unique situations we had each experienced with this person. Suddenly, our old adventures had become a new one.

The people I look forward to speaking with the most are the ones with whom we have shared these kinds of experiences.

The first person mentioned, the one whom I try to avoid, is willing to embark on an adventure. The reason I avoid this person seems to be that I don’t find the adventures interesting. However, during the discussion, the person is comfortable, open, and real! Although I don’t find their adventure exciting, they do.

This changes the mechanics.

I hung around to see what happened.

The second person, a skilled conversationalist, found my adventure exciting and was willing to travel down the road to see where it went. It felt like they found this adventure as important as I did. They had a hunger to understand what it all meant. I felt as though this person understood me.

I remember as a child, my grandmother and mother would always bring me along to take my great-grandmother shopping. This was not an adventure I wanted to take, and I could not understand why I needed to be there. I found little value, little excitement. I would avoid it next time if possible.

However, one time my grandmother mentioned she would buy me a video game. This game was important to me. I could not wait to be picked up for this adventure. I was excited to take it. There was great value. I was present in a way that I had not been the previous time.

Consider the third person with whom I shared my important interests, who gave a quick answer and moved on. I believe this person found little value in a concept that was important to me. Not only did the person not find value, but they shut down the adventure before it started. Not only did they not want to take part in the adventure, they would not even consider my adventure as something exciting or worth listening to.

Finally, the fourth person, who started awkwardly, ended up teaching me the most.

It taught me it’s possible to redeem an awkward-feeling conversation and what it takes to do so.

The Value I Had Been Missing

As I reflect on everything, I want to unmask some gems that I have mined along the way.

The first is the value. How have I been so naïve to leave value on the table by attempting to avoid conversations with people? It reminds me of a quote from Galileo.

“I have never met a man so ignorant that I could not learn something from him.”
— Galileo Galilei

It turns out I was the ignorant one in this scenario. Not only was there something available that I could learn from this person, but I found nothing worth learning from this person.

I lacked the initiative to determine how I might learn from this person, and also how to direct the conversation to that topic.

How foolish? I have been missing value for years.

Chances are, the knowledge I could gain from this person is the very thing they enjoy talking about. An adventure profitable to both parties. An enjoyable conversation.

Better yet, how often am I the one who shuts down the adventure before it starts, making what’s important to others feel worthless? It makes me wonder why some people continue to present me with opportunities to travel with them.

How did I not understand the value of spending time with my family on the way to my great grandmothers? Time that is unavailable today! I saw value in something so small, something that has no meaning anymore.

I am convinced that the people who excel in conversation understand the value each person holds. They are good at listening. They make people feel important. Their curiosity takes them on adventures many have shut down.

Maybe I have been the awkward one. Maybe, just maybe, the awkward conversations result from how I have listened to what’s important to others.

The Master of the Tape Measure

It was nearly a month before my sister-in-law was going to be married to her new groom.

The groom invited me to be a part of his groomsmen, so I needed to be fitted for a tuxedo.

The business he chose for this service was a place I drove by time and time again, but never actually stopped in.

I picked up my brother-in-law since he was going to be a part of this wedding as well and headed down to be sized up.

One of the first things I noticed walking into this old-fashioned establishment was a beautiful spiral staircase.

I am not sure where it led, but I don’t recall ever having seen one of its kind.

As we made our way to the counter and gave our names, an old man came out from the back.

The only tool he had was a tape measure.

Within less than five minutes, he had both of our sizes, and we were out the door.

I was expecting this entire process to take maybe half an hour, but I left surprised.

I asked him a question, already knowing the answer before I left, saying,

“You’ve been doing this for a while?”

He said,

“No, I just started.”

As serious as ever.

Then he started laughing and told me he had been doing this for around forty-five years.

Interesting.

I have been measured before at another place, and I remember the process taking between thirty minutes and an hour.

The lady surely wasn’t a professional but was clearly working there for a paycheck.

This guy, however, appeared to be the real deal.

I likely would have never thought twice about this experience if what happened next had not happened.

Seeing What Others Miss

It was now a few days before the wedding.

I was at the park meeting with another groomsman and his family.

We began talking about the old guy at the tuxedo place.

I told him that the guy was extremely fast.

It seemed no sooner had I walked in than I was already walking back out.

This groomsman, however, was from out of town and did not go to this guy to be measured.

He was measured out where he lived and called the guy with his measurements.

The groomsman said,

“Man, I called this guy and gave him my measurements, and he told me he would not use those measurements, but would go with different ones.”

This instantly caught my attention.

I told him that this was crazy.

How would this guy know what his size was and that these measurements were wrong if he had never even seen him before?

I could not wait to ask him this the next time I saw him.

Now, the day before the rehearsal dinner, we show up to pick up the tuxedos.

I will say everything fit very well, minus a quick switch in the undershirt and the shoes being slightly tight.

As the old man was examining how everything fit, I said,

“I have a question that I have been dying to know the answer to!”

One groomsman told me he gave you his measurements over the phone, and you said you would not use them, but would use different ones instead.

How did you know those measurements weren’t right?

He says,

“I asked the guy what size shirt and pants he wears and decided based on that. Oh yeah, by the way, it fit like a glove.”

Fascinated, I looked at what appeared to be a master at work before me.

I then turned into what felt like interview mode, asking him question after question, trying to understand him, how he got to this point, and what his plans were for the future.

I mean, he was pushing eighty, and I couldn’t imagine that he was going to be running this store much longer.

If you follow me on Substack, you know my interest is in seeing things that others don’t see.

I enjoy learning about situations where people are looking at the same thing, and one person can see so much deeper into what is going on, while others can’t.

What I find different about this situation is that the tailor was not even looking at the picture.

Where this groomsman originally received his measurements, he would have been right in front of somebody.

This person would have been able to use the same tool the old tailor had, a measuring tape, and could also have asked him any further questions.

Not only did he have this opportunity, but I would imagine somebody who is good at what they do could likely see somebody and get a basic understanding of what their size might be.

The first place I was measured operated similarly.

However, all this man had were some numbers to go on.

Sure, he could have made the suit to that size as requested, and if it came out wrong, it would have been no fault of his own.

Yet, this was a master of the craft.

He likely had seen this happen before and would not be stumped by it.

If he hadn’t measured the person himself, there was likely doubt in his mind that there could be an error.

He collected more information to compare with to get a better idea of who this guy was.

I imagine he was seeing the shape of this person in his head as he was receiving the measurements and then the clothing sizes over the phone.

He then responds with the size he wants to use.

As the groomsman put it,

“It fit perfectly.”

The Cost of Integrity

There is no question why this man could stay in business for forty-five years.

This man not only enjoyed what he was doing.

Years spent pursuing what he loved shaped him into a master of his craft.

The neighborhood he was in would have been a prime area in Cincinnati when he started, but now, as he approached retirement age, it was falling apart.

One of my questions was:

“What happens to this place after you are done?”

He said they were going to close it down.

Nobody wanted to buy it.

This place was near a popular high school in the area, and I assumed he received a lot of business from proms and homecomings.

He told me that business was continuing to decline because the kids weren’t interested in his store’s offerings, but wanted clothes from Amazon.

They wanted shirts that could match their date’s dresses.

Instead of the classy shoes he sold, they wanted the Nikes to match.

“What are you going to do to stay relevant? Start selling Nikes,” I said.

He said,

“Absolutely not!”

From a business standpoint, I found this to be the wrong way to respond to this trend.

I am reminded of statements such as, “This is how we have always done it.”

Many places cannot adapt to the market, and they become irrelevant.

However, I could absolutely understand where this guy was coming from.

He built his livelihood on running this business, became very good at it, and carried a line of clothing that exhibited class.

I could picture Hank Hill running a grill shop down the road, selling the finest propane grills.

Do you think he is going to switch to charcoal because that’s what the people were doing?

By no means!

He would shut that place down before he went against what he believed in.

Although this tailor may not have a business in a few years, I do not think his story should go unknown.

His website says in the about section,

“His expertise, attention to detail, and commitment to outstanding service have made him a trusted name in formalwear.”

I feel these are words almost anybody in the business would put on their website.

It was these three features of the experience that I appreciated the most.

This was actually who he was, not just a selling point.

I witnessed something like this, and the question began nagging at me,

“What is the lesson from this story that can be learned and applied?”

I see a man who has a passion for helping people look their best when celebrating big moments in their lives.

This wasn’t a guy who did not know what he was going to do with his life and said,

“Well, I guess I could start a formalwear business. I don’t know if this excites me, but it would pay the bills.”

If this were who he was, he likely would have closed the business a long time ago.

Surely, he is old enough to retire.

Having run the business for forty-five years, I don’t think he is staying around for the money.

I think this guy is doing something that he loves.

He exhibited a love for the job in the experience he provides for those who walk through his doors.

The Price of Admission

As I consider the lesson of the story, what can be learned and applied, it has to be to pursue what you are truly passionate about.

It makes me wonder how many people are sitting in jobs right now that they don’t enjoy.

In a 2024 Gallup survey measuring job engagement, meaning enthusiasm and involvement in work, they found that:

• 31% of U.S. employees were engaged.

• 52% were not.

• 17% were actively disengaged.

This likely means that 69% of people in the workforce were not pursuing a calling they loved, like the tailor in this story.

I can relate.

I recall working at some of my past jobs, thinking that something was missing.

Not that the job was hard or I couldn’t do it well, but it was unfulfilling.

I felt I was not doing something that I loved.

I left the job every night drained, ready to go to bed, and then come back and do it all over again.

When, however, doing something that I love, I feel the exact opposite.

I lose track of time.

I gain energy.

I do what others would consider work for free.

Why do people settle for unfulfilling jobs?

Is it a matter of confidence?

Do they think they could not find a job pursuing their passion?

Maybe they could find a job, but the job would not provide them with the life they wanted.

In The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt, I remember reading that he was very interested in and skilled with the topic of natural history.

This led him to start his college studies in this field.

His father told him he could pursue this if he wanted to, but he should also consider what kind of life he wanted to live.

If he were okay living a life of low means, he could very well pursue this passion and be great at it.

However, if he did not intend to live this kind of life, he should consider something else.

Is the trade-off of doing what you love, resulting in a life of lower means, even a sacrifice?

Or is it the price of admission to a life of meaning?

It is a question worth answering before you make your next move.

Finding Your Path

For some people, pursuing what they are passionate about as a career happens naturally.

They understand their dreams early; they put in the work, and they seem to always be moving from one place to another under the spotlight of their passions.

Others likely don’t have this kind of clarity when they are younger and instead learn by trial and error.

They figure out what they don’t want so much that it leads them to what they want.

I find myself in the likes of the latter.

What are the options for the people in the latter?

Do you just walk out on your current job and start over?

Do you stick it out until you find something closer to your passion?

Or do you continue working there even though you are unhappy because it pays the bills?

The people who pursue what they are passionate about and learn at a later age are usually the ones who risk it all for the dream.

They are the ones who would rather try, fail, and rebuild than never try at all.

These are the people who take a year off from their jobs to write the book they have always dreamed of.

These are the ones who take out that large loan because they had a dream of starting a business and believe it is possible.

These are the folks who have been told that it wouldn’t work, but they do it anyway.

They have to try, or else they will regret it all their days.

The Tailor of Your Field

The lesson we learn from our tailor is to pursue the calling you are passionate about.

What would it take for you to become the tailor of your field?

Is it the price of admission to a life of meaning?

Why Write Something You’ll Never Read Again?

I was sitting in church the other day, listening to a sermon.

It was a wonderful sermon and almost seemed like exactly what I needed to hear that day.

As I turn my gaze from the preacher, I look across the row and see people scribbling in notebooks.

One of these people was my wife.

I often find it interesting to look over and see what she is writing during this time.

From what I have noticed, it is always the main points and passages from the sermon.

Also, because this is my wife, I know that this will be the last time she visits this page.

Before long, the content of the notes is a thing of history.

Maybe there is some value in hearing it and then writing it down to make it stick.

I have often wondered why she took the time to write these things down during church, never to revisit them.

Was this because she was the preacher’s daughter and was raised to do this?

While writing this, I asked her, and she said it helps her to remember.

This is certainly a good thing, but is this the only value notes carry?

Or is there more to the story that many fail to see?

My experience with note-taking has been an interesting journey.

In the church service, I used to be a person who did not have a notepad, committing principles and passages from the sermon onto paper.

I found very little value in note-taking.

From my perspective, it was like writing something down to be shoved in a filing cabinet somewhere, never to be seen again.

Why waste time, right?

However, I can recall times when taking notes was of value to me.

If I were preparing for a school test, I would often read and write all the points that I thought were important to help me on the test.

I found that these notes often helped me better understand the topic, and I often received higher scores after this preparation.

I will say that many of these topics I took notes on, I was initially unfamiliar with, so they helped me to wrap my mind around what was going on.

If the topic was something I already felt I had a good understanding of before approaching the material, I likely would not have taken notes because I did not see any value in doing the extra work.

The Problem With Digital Dust

Now fast forward to now, 37-year-old male, 3 college degrees, a family of 5, many years of experience in the workforce, and a constant hunger for understanding and learning.

Life happens fast, and I have found it very challenging to process much of the information I am taking in daily.

I wouldn’t say it is as bad as going in one ear and out the other, but I feel very little of the content is being stored in a usable way.

My studies throughout history and top performers have pointed to many of them having a habit of keeping extensive notebooks.

People like Leonardo Da Vinci or Theodore Roosevelt, there seemed to be a practice that many of these people had that was relevant to the results they achieved.

This presented a gap in my understanding of the true value of notes.

A few years ago, I stumbled across an author who presented a concept called building a second brain.

I remember thinking that this sounded like an amazing idea if it really functioned as a second brain.

As a result, I went through the process of downloading Obsidian note-taking software and committing all written and digital notes to these notebooks.

It was a really refreshing feeling to have a place where all of this information could live together in some sort of harmony.

I had an interesting way of sorting these notes so that they all seemed to live in the proper place.

Whether I was looking for a journal entry or an essay I wrote in school, I could easily navigate to that folder.

Sadly, the high of having this system quickly faded.

It quickly became like all of my previous note-taking systems: a bunch of files collecting digital dust, taking up space on my hard drive.

I wondered whether the information these people throughout history collected was only good for their biographers after they died, or if they revisited these and found value throughout their lives.

As many notes and journal entries as some of these people had, I feel they had to perceive some value in these artifacts that I may not be aware of.

What was this value?

From Task Manager to Reflection Manager

One of the first things I did when I parted ways with my most recent employer was come back to Obsidian.

I was in search of a one-size-fits-all application that I could organize my life behind.

My notes, my calendar, my tasks, and anything else that may arise throughout the day.

I called this my Daily Command Center.

I was tired of switching between 100 different apps and really wanted a single solution for everything.

I tried really hard to make this work, but I still felt there was a lot of friction in the system, like cutting the grass with scissors.

Did I need a new app?

Did I need to invent an app?

I felt like I was at a dead end.

Looking back two months ago, right around the time I started this Daily Command Center, I focused primarily on tasks.

Although I wasn’t happy with the results and felt initially that it was a waste of time, it actually ended up being a starting point for something far greater than I imagined.

While my first note on April 27, 2026, was simply a task log, I noticed on 6/1 that it went beyond tasks and contained a journal entry.

It also contained reflections on the Theodore Roosevelt book I was reading.

From April 27 to June 1, I had only 6 entries.

From June 1 to today, there has been a Daily Command Center note every single day.

This is a testament to the value I initially perceived, to the value that I see today.

What exactly changed?

What started as a simple task manager transformed into a reflection manager.

Instead of simply talking about the tasks I was doing each day, I wanted to make sense of everything that was happening each day.

I wanted to think more about the Bible passage I read, the Roosevelt quote that caught my attention, or something a person said that caught my attention at a wedding.

Not only this, but what do all these things have in common?

How do they relate to each other?

What is it about these three things that caught my attention this day?

Instead of days being stale and rigid, the days became full of meaning.

I believe this is very true in how I used to see each day, as just a list of things that need to be done in order to not only survive but get to a better place where I have more control over those tasks that had to be done.

In a way, I despise the structure.

I hate being confined to a box, having a certain time that I have to do something, let alone planning my days, months, and years this way.

If I finish all these tasks as prescribed, does it improve my quality of life?

If I don’t complete these tasks as prescribed, will I feel that the day was a failure?

Ultimately, my Daily Command Center had changed from something of very little value and importance to something I can’t wait to contribute to each day.

What will I discover about myself and the world today?

How does it connect to my past, other people, or even what I want out of life?

How does what I discovered today make me wiser tomorrow?

Turning a Graveyard Into a Nursery

After this discovery, I thought I had found the breakthrough.

However, I noticed something was still missing.

Although I found great meaning and purpose in recording my observations and discoveries, I still had this nagging question in my mind, asking me what value these would have tomorrow.

Sure, I was finding great value in the immediate, as my wife did journaling in church, but I didn’t want my notes to die here.

After all, these were exciting to me when I wrote them down, and many of them led to further questions that I hadn’t fully thought through yet.

In a sense, this was only the capture part of my notes, which had become really effective, but now I realized I needed to improve the organization and retrieval if I really wanted this note system to continue adding value to my life.

It was as if I had these wonderful thoughts and ideas that were full of life, and as they went from my mind to my computer, they were dying.

I began brainstorming what kinds of things I could do to keep these notes alive in my vault.

I wanted to turn my vault from a graveyard into a nursery.

Instead of showing up only to die, they needed to be here to be nursed, to be developed, to grow.

The only problem was that I knew in my head what I wanted, but whether it was possible or already discovered, I had no idea.

When Notes Start Thinking Back

The first improvement I made was to the connections.

I wanted to understand how my notes connect.

I found a simple plugin that showed notes connected to my current note, and also a score of how much they connect.

I thought this was a brilliant discovery, only to realize it didn’t tell me what the basis of the connection was.

Before you ask, of course, you can connect through links and tags, but at the beginning of a discovery or observation, it is very challenging to tell where your idea might end up.

Tags and links that are no longer of value add friction to the process.

Where friction exists in my systems, I feel I lose value.

The more friction that exists in doing something, the less likely I am to do it.

The connections were great, but I wanted to understand the why.

This led to my discovery of an AI called Obsidian Copilot.

This plugin allowed me to understand the why behind connections, but also so much more.

I could ask the AI questions related to my notes, and it would make connections I had never even considered.

This AI would notice blind spots in my thinking, things I had never thought of.

This Copilot would also evaluate my system and help me develop it even further.

This was becoming a lot more of what I pictured when I first heard the term “Second Brain.”

It was as if my notes had come to life, that there was a live and active mind behind them.

I could find what I was looking for and maybe also what I needed and didn’t know I was looking for by simply entering a prompt.

Finally, I was finding great value in note-taking, and it has accelerated the development of my ideas beyond what I had ever imagined.

Don't Let Your Ideas Die

In this journey, I have changed from a skeptic to a believer on this topic.

I have had possibilities in note-taking all of my life, but I never fully perceived the value in.

As a result, I believe this really stunted the depth of my thinking compared to where it is today.

You may say, “Well, Obsidian hasn’t even been out for that long, so what are you worried about?”

I respond with the fact that people have been using forms of this system for many years.

I observed something similar in Robert Greene’s notecard system.

Although it didn’t have an AI brain behind it, he was most certainly recording information with the purpose of it being retrieved again, of adding value to something he was working on.

While his system may have done exactly what he needed it to do, the capabilities we have in technology today make these processes much more accessible.

I dread the idea of creating a notecard with each idea for a story I have and storing them in boxes, and having to hunt them down as I remember them.

However, that had led to best-selling books on his part.

What I have discovered is unique to the way I think.

Maybe my system will be of no value to you.

Maybe you will find Greene’s system more effective, or even something else.

The purpose of this article was not to sell my system; in fact, quite the opposite.

The purpose of this writing was to challenge you not to let your ideas and discoveries die with the day.

A challenge to continue to think through and build on what was important to you yesterday.

You could forget that breakthrough discovery if it’s not stored where you can access it again.

Would you be comfortable receiving an account number for a crypto vault with millions of dollars if you didn’t write it down and store it in a safe place?

The same should be true for your ideas.

You never know what they become could be of the same value as what’s in the crypto vault.

A Question About Books

Books.

Some people love them, some people avoid them at all costs.

What is it about books that some people can’t find enough time to read all they want, and others won’t make the time to read at all?

I can recall a time in my life when I avoided books at all costs. The thought of sitting down to read seemed like a waste of time, and I dreaded it.

It was not until I was 26 that the Bible became such a large part of my life, and I realized I might be missing out on other good books.

At first, I considered that maybe people just have different interests than I do.

Looking back, I believe it was something much deeper.

The Beginning of My Reading Journey

My journey started with a biography of Stonewall Jackson.

It was a book I had sitting on my shelf for whatever reason, and I figured it would be a good place to start. I knew nothing about him other than that he had a cool name and that he fought in the Civil War.

I ended up enjoying the book. During this period, I also discovered Audible. I could now listen to books while I was working.

This led to titles like The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, The Art of Power (A Thomas Jefferson Biography), and many more.

I found biographies very inspirational.

I may not have agreed with everything they did, but there were certain things I noticed in their life that seemed valuable.

I found Stonewall Jackson’s unwavering faith to be something worth imitating.

I appreciated Thomas Jefferson’s interest in culture, which led to an interest in wine tasting.

It was as if these books unlocked an understanding of the world that I had never considered.

I felt as though I could see the world through another’s eyes.

When Reading Became a Numbers Game

My natural disposition leans towards accomplishing a task in the fastest, most efficient way possible.

I can trace this mindset through many of the journeys in my life.

It’s easy to understand how this transferred over to reading.

I found a website called Goodreads, which allows me to track my reading progress and set a goal for how many books I will read in a year.

I realized how many books I had read in previous years and decided I would set a goal higher than that.

Instead of enjoying the process, it became a race to a record.

This may explain why my reading habits have been hit or miss throughout the years.

Some years, I am really into reading and can’t read enough, and some years, it is painful to sit down and pick up a book.

My reflection time throughout the past months led to an understanding that I am approaching this venture with the wrong mindset.

The goal isn’t in the number of books I am reading, but the value I receive from each book.

Am I leaving value on the table and not even realizing it?

At first, I thought it was quality over quantity.

As it turns out, it was something deeper.

Learning How to Read

I remember browsing through books one day on the library app when I stumbled across a book titled How to Read A Book.

This seemed like a silly concept to me.

It’s simple, you just read the words, right?

My interest brought me to this book, and I skimmed through before giving it up at some point.

Today, I realize this guy was onto something.

Something that I had neglected ever since I started this journey.

Once this had become clear in my life, I started approaching books with a completely different mindset.

First, how many books I could read in a year became meaningless.

Books come in many shapes and sizes, and the pursuit of completing a specific number was no longer measuring what was important.

Second, I started approaching books with curiosity.

I opened these books with more questions, and more specific ones at that.

I wasn’t just reading for pleasure but to answer the questions.

They say if you leave the house and look for everything red, you will notice it everywhere. However, if you leave the house not specifically looking for it, you won’t notice that it’s everywhere.

Having specific things that I wanted to understand from the books I was reading helped me to more effectively retrieve the value from the publications.

In this process, I was looking more closely and moving more slowly.

This is not a mindset consistent with a number goal.

The Hidden Depths of Knowledge

This discovery of mine led me to reflect on why this happens.

Many of us are content with the low-hanging fruit of knowledge.

We satisfy ourselves with the main points of a book and understanding the big picture.

It’s when throw ourselves headfirst into the depths of the unknown that we realize just how deep it is.

We seem to naturally want what is easy.

However, once we discover the unknown, like the wardrobe that leads to Narnia, our curiosity continues to lead us to the treasure not visible at first glance.

Where we first noticed the simple and poor Edmund Dantes, we search for the complex and sophisticated Count of Monte Cristo.

Who would have initially guessed that those were the same people?

The Search for Mastery

Consider this example from my life.

The thing that has always fascinated me is mastery and those who have accomplished it.

I had already dreamed of being a master of something, whether it was football, chess, or something else.

I read books on mastery, studied the masters, and tried to replicate the models.

I found the truth to be that, although they can explain what the masters had in common or you can witness their life journey, it often lacks the deeper answers to the pursuit.

For example, a book may tell you that to be a master, you must be disciplined.

Then they will give you many examples of the masters who had great discipline.

The problem I found is that one doesn’t just wake up and say I’m going to be disciplined and it all works out fine.

Discipline doesn’t just fall from the sky.

I remain with the question,

How do I become disciplined?

Maybe we read that all the masters had great courage.

Well, what exactly is courage?

One does not just enter a situation and say I’m going to do courage.

Courage is often someone else’s explanation, something they noticed in somebody.

Well, what did they notice?

The questions continue to flow until you get an answer that sufficiently explains what you are looking for, or an answer you can experiment with to see if it’s valid.

Consider this quote by Alexander Hamilton:

“Men give me some credit for genius. All the genius I have lies in this: When I have a subject in hand, I study it profoundly. Day and night it is before me. I explore it in all its bearings. My mind becomes pervaded with it. Then the efforts that I make are what people are pleased to call the fruits of genius. It is the fruit of labor and thought.”

You get the impression this wasn’t merely a man who scratched the surface, but was obsessed with understanding.

I imagine his books, covered in the wear of life, as he wrestled with the text to find the deeper things, to make the connections to his life, what he already understood, what he was currently attempting to do.

From reading his biography, I am convinced this consumed his mind in a way that most people do not experience.

How else do you explain how the man who was largely responsible for creating the financial structure in America died a broke man?

Poetry and the Art of Looking Deeper

I recently took up reading poetry.

Throughout the past, I never thought twice about it.

When it showed up in a book, I found very little value in it and often glanced over it and moved on.

Found petty pleasure in it.

Since my awakening to the process of deep reading, I have found great value in it.

It is an art form that forces you to ask questions, convicts you to look deeper, and challenges you to dig beneath the simple meaning of words to understand what the author is really trying to say.

What might have seemed worthless and simple at one point then becomes like an Indiana Jones adventure to recover the lost Arc.

You may never completely understand what the poet meant, but the value is not always in having a complete answer.

The value often comes in the process of searching for the answer.

When pursuing the answers to mastery, I was quick to think I had the answer as I started going deeper, only to find out there was something else that I couldn’t explain.

I still don’t know the answer with certainty, but I can tell you I have grown tremendously.

The Detective Mindset

The work of a reader is comparable to that of a detective.

The detective shows up at the murder scene, and questions arise from what he sees.

For some witnesses, a couple of questions on the scene build a picture of what happened.

However, it is the ones called back to the station, interrogated thoroughly, that provide the information that makes or breaks the case.

Quality or quantity was the question for this essay.

Which one should I pursue in my approach to books?

My answer is yes.

Both answers are as correct as they are incomplete.

There remains a missing ingredient.

Curiosity.

Aim to get the most out of every text.

What do you hope to understand from this book?

What questions are you hoping to answer?

Once you have satisfied your curiosity, move on.

You may find that you have read fewer books at the end of the year, but you found more value in the ones you read.

What started as an investigation into how to get the most out of a book has led to something deeper.

The curiosity that fuels reading.

Feed your curiosity.

“Curiousity is one of the most permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous intellect.” — Samuel Johnson

What topic has captured your curiosity so completely that you couldn't stop thinking about it?

A Curious Observation

I remember first watching Disney’s The Jungle Book as a kid.

Growing up in my day, we did not have the luxury of endless choices on streaming services. Very often, the movies we owned were the ones that we watched over and over.

As I grew up, this movie became a distant memory of something I enjoyed as a kid.

Fast forward to 2020, when I had my first child. Then came the time when The Jungle Book was what we watched. There were things this time through that I found entertaining that I never appreciated as a kid.

The part that really caught my attention was when Colonel Hathi was inspecting his patrol. He came to one elephant, inspected its trunk, and said,

“A dusty muzzle.”

Throughout the coming years, every time this part came up, I chuckled a little when I heard it.

Why was that?

When Hard Work Stopped Working

The past couple of months have been very different for me.

I have spent as far back as I can remember moving from one thing to the next, often failing to see what’s important in the moment, as my focus was on the future.

Parting ways with my employer, with whom I had been working for ten years, and being without a job for this period has led to a great deal of reflection.

I was trying to make sense of everything in my life, how one assumption I had made had led to the achievement of a job I had pursued for a great deal of time had proven itself false.

I am convinced that understanding this was what I needed to understand what my next role would be and how to be successful in that role.

As I continued to dig into this through question after question, before I knew it, I had not only understood the answer to this question but also made connections to things in my life that I had never stopped to notice or make sense of.

I had built much of my life around the concept that hard work equals success.

From the moment I had accepted this doctrine, I instantly saw a level of success that I had never truly believed was possible.

I remember thinking that there was nothing I couldn’t accomplish if I worked hard.

From that moment on, I began seeing above-average success in everything to which I applied it.

I wasn’t a master of any field, but I saw progress in everything I was doing until I reached this role I had been working towards for years.

It seemed everything was going well until it wasn’t.

Before I knew it, I was on a performance improvement plan with 60 days to improve, or I would be on my last and final written warning.

This had never happened to me in my life, and I couldn’t understand it.

There was only one solution:

I must work harder.

As I began applying this principle, 8 hours turned into 9 hours, 9 hours turned into 10, and before I knew it, I was working 12 hours a day.

The only problem was that no matter how many hours I worked, there was no improvement and many times a worse result.

I felt stressed and lost sleep, reaching the point where I wished the meeting’s outcome would be a separation.

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Discovering the Pattern

During the time of reflection immediately following, I began asking more and more questions about everything in my life, and the picture increased in clarity with every answer.

What first seemed like a bunch of unrelated hobbies that never really went anywhere became data points on what I was really looking for.

I found connections with the shows I watched, the music I listened to, the books I read, the hobbies I pursued, and my strengths and weaknesses.

I understood why I did extremely well with some jobs and what made the most recent job so different.

This reflection led to making connections, and suddenly, I was seeing something that had been right in front of me my whole life that I could never see in those moments.

Not only could I make sense of the things I had missed, but I was also seeing more in real time.

What I stumbled across was a pattern that had been there for years.

My enjoyment of the television show Sherlock wasn’t just about solving crimes.

My fascination with Toyota’s working procedures was not just about manufacturing.

The questions I asked during Bible studies were not simply about discussion.

My enjoyment of writing and reflection led to the same conclusion.

In each case, seeing what others missed fascinated me.

Finding the meaning beneath the surface energized me.

I found enjoyment in making connections between things that at first appeared unrelated.

What had seemed to me as scattered interests were actually different expressions of the same underlying pursuit.

Why “A Dusty Muzzle?”

By this point, you are probably wondering what this has to do with elephants in The Jungle Book.

I wanted a way to practice what I was learning, and after researching, I decided I would start practicing through writing on Substack.

The only problem was that I didn’t have a name.

I didn’t want another corny name, The Art of this or that, but instantly thought of A Dusty Muzzle.

I put my work into practice and asked,

“How does this relate to what I am trying to do?”

Upon reflection, I started noticing the connection.

When Colonel Hathi calls for inspection, and all the elephants raise their trunks, he instantly finds his way to a specific elephant and examines the trunk.

Then comes the quote.

“A dusty muzzle! Remember, in battle, a trunk can save your life.”

Although everything had originally appeared okay on the surface, that wasn’t enough to satisfy this colonel.

He then examines further and finds, probably, what he had expected:

A dusty muzzle.

This colonel didn’t have to think twice about discipline in his troops.

His experience had led to finding these things easily.

What is ironic, though, is that he could see the dust on one elephant’s muzzle—a significant detail—but failed to notice immediately that his last inspection was not even an elephant, but a man cub.

As we see further into this scene, we come to understand that although he was good at noticing what was wrong as it related to his troops, he was also bad at noticing his own errors.

After the inspection, when they march, his wife reminds him that he left without his son.

Looking Closer

This is exactly what interests me about this scenario.

Examining more closely to find what’s not apparent on the surface level.

This is exactly what I did in my life, and I found value in things that I had never noticed before.

The idea of being fired from your job feels like a bad thing, whether you were right or wrong, for most people.

This is how I felt when it happened, although it was a great relief from the stress I was dealing with.

After examining the situation, I not only understood why it didn’t work out, but found great value in the situation.

Although this information was not apparent on the surface, a little digging revealed it.

I have spent my life fascinated by people who master their work or make significant achievements, but I could never understand why that fascinated me.

One thing I noticed during the pursuit of an answer was that they often could perceive things that others couldn’t.

Whether it was a minor detail in a crime scene, what their gifts are, how to use their gifts, or maybe something as simple as noticing a dusty muzzle.

What You’ll Find Here

I decided I would put this into practice in my life.

It is not only relevant to my work in my career but also to my role as a husband, a father, a Christian, and an intellectual.

This would lead to slowing down and finding value in the moment, noticing the details I had never taken the time to observe.

There is no specific genre to what I will look at on this platform, but simply what I find interesting, and the smaller details or the value that younger me would have missed.

I will look for the dusty muzzles.