Search Blog

Over coffee the other day, a friend dropped a phrase that stuck with me: rigidly flexible.  At first, it sounded like a contradiction, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how powerful it is.   I remember a couple I worked with years ago. They had been married for over three decades and had weathered the storms of raising kids, career changes, and health scares. The husband was a man of deep conviction. He held firm to his promises, providing for his family, showing up for church every Sunday, and living with honesty. His wife, though, was the more adaptable one, ready to pivot when life didn’t go according to plan. But here’s the beauty: he wasn’t just rigid, and she wasn’t just flexible. Each of them had learned, in their own way, to be both.   One afternoon, they told me about a crisis with their youngest son. He had made a decision that deeply hurt them, violating everything they stood for. The husband was heartbroken, but instead of cutting off his son (rigidity without flexibility), he stood firm in his values while keeping the door of relationship open. “I will not support what you did, ” he told him, “but I will always be your father, and you will always have a place at my table.” That’s rigidly flexible.   It struck me: life constantly tests us with these tensions. Too rigid, and we break under pressure. Too flexible, and we lose our shape. But when we can be rigid in our principles and flexible in our approach, we create both stability and connection.   Maybe today you’re facing a situation where you’re tempted to snap or bend too far. What would it look like to stand tall in your values, but still bend with compassion?   That’s the invitation of being rigidly flexible, a strong spine with a willing heart.   Watch for the blind spots.   👀 Don’t wait to uncover what you don’t know you don’t know! 💡 Blind Spots in Relationships,  get your copy today,  http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Have you heard the phrase “Pull yourself up by your bootstraps?”  I think it’s meant to inspire grit, independence, and personal responsibility. But like many sayings, it carries both wisdom and pitfalls depending on how it’s applied.   On the good side, the idea reminds me that effort matters. It speaks to resilience, that inner determination to keep moving when life knocks me down. I think of times I’ve had to start over, whether in my career, my health, or my relationships. No one else could take my steps for me. I had to muster the courage to take the first steps, make the phone call, or try again after failure. The “bootstraps” message can light a spark, reminding me that while support is valuable, I am ultimately responsible for how I respond to challenges. That’s a healthy kind of ownership.   However, the negative side of the phrase emerges when it’s used to judge or dismiss others. Life doesn’t hand out equal opportunities. Some face systemic barriers, generational poverty, trauma, or health challenges that can’t be solved by “just trying harder.”  Telling someone to pull themselves up when they lack boots, or even straps, can heap shame on top of struggle. It risks ignoring the reality that we often need others, such as mentors, friends, therapy, community, or simply a helping hand.   Another danger is the myth of complete self-reliance. No one truly succeeds alone. Every achievement I can claim was made possible by the efforts of others before me. To act as though I’ve pulled myself up entirely on my own is not just unrealistic; it erases the importance of gratitude and interdependence.   The healthiest way to use the phrase is as an inward reminder, rather than an outward weapon. I can challenge myself to take responsibility for my part, while also recognizing that others may need encouragement, support, or compassion more than a lecture. I find the best way to “pull myself up” is to offer my hand so someone else can stand up beside me.   Watch for the blind spots.   Get a copy of Blind Spots in Relationships. Discover the hidden behavior that could be holding you back from the relationships you desire. http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Years ago, I stumbled across an idea that changed the way I view relationships. I call it the “Half a Vote Principle.” It’s simple, but not always easy: in every relationship, I only control half the vote. The other half belongs to the other person.   For a long time, I wanted the whole vote. If something wasn’t working, I thought I had to convince, persuade, or even outlast the other person until they agreed with me. You can imagine how well that worked, it led to frustration, distance, and more conflict. Then I realized, if I own half the vote, I also own half the responsibility. That means if I want change, the best place to start is with me.   I remember a time early in my marriage when my wife and I disagreed about finances. I was convinced my way was best. I argued, explained, and re-explained. The more I pressed, the more she resisted. Finally, I stopped. Instead of trying to win her vote, I took responsibility for my half. I asked myself, what can I change in me?  That shift, listening more, softening my tone, and asking her perspective instead of pushing mine, transformed the conversation. We didn’t just solve a financial issue; we strengthened trust.   The Half a Vote Principle works because it’s rooted in humility. When I stop trying to control the outcome and start working on my half, the whole dynamic shifts. Sometimes the other person softens, too. Even if they don’t, I’ve grown.   In every relationship, marriage, friendship, work team, or even with our kids, we each carry half the vote. We can waste energy trying to seize the other half, or we can invest in our own. Taking ownership of my half doesn’t guarantee I’ll get my way, but it does guarantee I’ll grow in patience, maturity, and connection.   This doesn’t mean I always relent, it means I know when to yield and when to hold fast.   When I find myself stuck in an argument or misunderstanding, instead of asking, how can I get them to change?  I ask, what can I do with my half of the vote?   Watch for the blind spots.   Get a copy of Blind Spots in Relationships. Discover the hidden behavior that could be holding you back from the relationships you desire. http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

I love volunteering and being of assistance. Not long ago, I caught myself saying “yes” when everything inside me wanted to say “no.”  I had already committed my day to things that mattered to me, but a friend called asking for help with a project he had put off until the last minute. I hesitated, then gave in. By the time I finished, my own plans were shelved, and my energy was gone.   That night, I thought about what had just happened. “Your procrastination does not create an emergency for me.”  I knew that truth, but I hadn’t lived it. His delay had become my crisis. And the cost wasn’t just time; it was peace of mind. “If it costs you your peace, it’s too expensive.”   I like helping others, but I’ve learned the hard way that givers need to set good boundaries because takers have none. Without clear boundaries, I invite exhaustion, resentment, and imbalance into my life. I had to face the fact that I was setting myself on fire to keep others warm.   That realization changed the way I respond. I don’t need to justify, explain, or over-apologize. “No is a complete sentence.”  It’s not harsh; it’s healthy. When I say no, I’m not rejecting a person; I’m protecting the best of myself so I can show up with energy, kindness, and honesty when it really counts.   The truth is that boundaries aren’t selfish. They’re a form of respect, for myself and for others. They define where my responsibility ends, and someone else’s begins. I can care without carrying. I can love without losing myself.   Every time I practice this, I get stronger. I’m less likely to trade my peace for approval, less likely to confuse sacrifice with love, and less likely to abandon what matters most to me.   The next time someone tries to hand me their emergency, I remind myself: peace is priceless, boundaries are necessary, and giving doesn’t mean burning myself out to keep others comfortable.   If it’s not a “hell yes,”  it’s a “hell no.”   Watch for the blind spots. Start learning how to identify, discover and expose hidden blind spots in your life. Get a copy of Blind Spots in Relationships. http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

I often refer to some people as “sleepers.”  By that, I don’t mean it negatively at all. In fact, I see it as a deep compliment. A sleeper is someone whose presence doesn’t shout, but whose character quietly speaks volumes.   Too often, when I meet someone for the first time, the conversation begins with a list of accomplishments, titles, or impressive stories. Sometimes it feels like a résumé spoken aloud. I don’t doubt their experiences, but I often wonder if the story has been polished, embellished, or perhaps borrowed from another.   But then others don’t lead with hero stories or achievements. They introduce themselves with humility, even meekness. Those are the people who intrigue me, the ones I want to know more about.   Ron is a man I knew from church for several years before discovering who he really was. To me, he had always been a kind, thoughtful, soft-spoken person. Many years ago, while we were on a flight to Baltimore, he casually mentioned that he had flown F-4 jets in Vietnam. He had completed countless sorties over North Vietnam and provided close air support for troops on the ground. Later, he became a test pilot for the F-15, a fighter-bomber that set new standards in aviation.   What struck me most wasn’t his military service, though that was extraordinary. It was the fact that he had carried these stories quietly for years, never offering them as the first thing I, or anyone else, would know about him. He was also a deeply Christian man, and his humility seemed to be the thread that held all the parts of his life together.   That encounter taught me something invaluable. True strength doesn’t need to announce itself.  Humility and meekness can be the most powerful introductions of all. The most memorable people I meet are not defined by what they have done, but by who they are.   I often wonder: when I meet someone, do I lead with my accomplishments or my humility?  That choice shapes not only how others see me, but also how I see myself.   Watch for the blind spots.   Discover the hidden behavior that could be holding you back from the relationships you desire. Get a copy of Blind Spots in Relationships. http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Not long ago, I sat with an amazing man who was wanting some tips for his marriage. As we talked, I asked him to write a letter. Writing can clear the ricocheting thoughts in my mind that keep me from focusing on what I need to do to better myself. However, this was an unusual letter. I asked him to write a letter from God to him. The following week, he brought me this letter, which he agreed I could share:   December 18, 2017   Dearest Son,   I want to compliment you on your gentle and calm spirit. You know those are the qualities I covet for all of my children.   Gentleness is that part of love that I longed to see even in your marriage. By the way, I love your darling wife, more than words can say or more than I can fully describe or your understanding on earth's side of heaven.   I chose your wife for you so that you would have someone to care for and to love. Be gentle with her. I made her different from you. Allow those differences to be my way of showing you how my creation is unique and what I do best.   Be gentle and of a calm spirit with her. "Gentleness is a willingness to accept limitations and ailments without taking out your aggravation on her or others. Gentleness shows gratitude for the smallest service rendered and for tolerance for those, including your wife, who you may think do not always do it right. Being kind to your wife is the crowning mark of a good and gentle person."   You know my son Jesus when he walked the dusty roads of Palestine, was described as "gentle and humble of heart ” (Matt. 11:29). Humility is a word I wrote about in my last letter to you. Do you remember the words "the lower you bend, the closer you are to me."   My inspired word says, "Humble yourself under my mighty hand and I will lift you up in due time. Cast all your cares on me, for I care for you."  (1Peter 5:6). All of heaven's resources are available for you to love your wife with a kind, gentle, and humble spirit. Stay calm in the times of conflict and trust me to always be there in the midst of the storm.    I love you Son.   Your Heavenly Father.   Sometimes I need to relax and write my thoughts to see what "I CAN"  do. This letter is a great example.   Watch for the blind spots.   Get a copy of Blind Spots in Relationships. Discover the hidden behavior that could be holding you back from the relationships you desire. http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

A while back, I was in the grocery store, standing in line with just a few items. The customer ahead of me was chatting away with the checker, laughing, telling stories, and digging through their wallet, while I stood there stewing. My mind raced: Don’t they realize people are waiting? How inconsiderate!   Later that day, it hit me. I’ve done the same thing. I’ve lingered in conversation, enjoyed catching up, and probably delayed someone else who was in a hurry. The truth I didn’t want to face in myself, I was quick to judge in someone else. Passing judgment, I realized, is often the hidden clue that I might be projecting. I see in others what I can’t, or don’t want to, see in myself.   That’s projection. Freud described it as a defense mechanism: when I don’t want to acknowledge a feeling or flaw in myself, I unconsciously assign it to others. Carl Jung went further, teaching that we project parts of our “shadow,” those unrecognized pieces of ourselves, onto the world. What I can’t accept in me, I’ll likely see and dislike in you.   Projection is a major blind spot in relationships. Because it feels so real, I convince myself the problem is “out there.”  Yet much of what irritates me in others is often something I don’t want to see in myself.   Here’s the challenge: when I catch myself projecting, I can stay blind and blame, or I can pause and ask, what part of me am I seeing in them?  That single question can turn a blind spot into a gold mine of self-awareness.   Projection is the mirror I least want to look into. But when I do, I build a better me. I become less controlled by hidden judgments and more able to connect with others and myself honestly.   Watch for the blind spots.   Think you’ve got it all figured out? 🤔 Your blind spots might have other plans. Dive into Blind Spots in Relationships  and find out what you don’t know you don’t know. 💡 Get your copy today. 📚 http:// tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Every day I live is a day spent. I don’t get it back. Today was traded for something, maybe for progress, maybe for distraction, maybe for nothing at all. That thought makes me pause. I have a limited number of days, and how I spend them matters more than I often admit.   Too often, I find myself wasting time on unimportant things and scrolling through social media, drifting into conversations that don’t build me up, or getting lost in idle tasks. It’s easy to justify, I tell myself I’m relaxing or catching up, but the truth is, much of that time is simply blown into the wind. It’s gone, with nothing to show for it.   Then I wonder: what could I do with the idle time I let slip away? Could I use it to write, to think, to create something meaningful? Could I invest it in my health, in my relationships, or in learning something that shapes my future? Those questions sting a little because they remind me of the gap between the life I dream about and the life I sometimes choose in the moment.   Am I facing my dreams, or am I hiding from them by filling my time with noise?  That is the heart of the matter. It’s easier to scroll than to stretch. It is easier to fill my hours with distraction than to risk failure by moving toward something bigger. Yet every moment I waste is still a trade. I’m trading the one resource I can never earn back: my time.   Who could I be if I used my time more productively?  That question is both convicting and energizing. It reminds me that each day, I hold the pen that writes my story. I can drift, or I can direct. I can hide, or I can face the life I say I want.   Do I know where I’m going in my life?  Some days, yes; some days, not so clearly. But if I honor my time, treat it as the treasure it is, I move closer to becoming the person I was meant to be.   Watch for the blind spots.   "Think you’ve got it all figured out? 🤔 Your blind spots might have other plans. Dive into Blind Spots in Relationships  and find out what you don’t know you don’t know. 💡 Get your copy today. 📚 http:// tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

In the martial art of Aikido, the goal isn’t to defeat an opponent but to redirect energy. Instead of meeting force with force, the practitioner blends with the movement, using timing, awareness, and balance to create harmony rather than conflict. That image has stayed with me because communication often feels like combat. Words can collide like fists, and conversations can turn into sparring matches where each person is determined to win.   I’ve noticed in myself that when I feel misunderstood or challenged, my instinct is to push back. I want to prove my point, correct the other person, or take control of the conversation. The harder I push, the more resistance I meet. Just like in physical conflict, communication can escalate until no one is listening, only defending.   Aikido offers a different way. Instead of pushing back, I can step aside, join with the other’s energy, and guide the interaction in a healthier direction. In practice, that might mean listening deeply instead of interrupting. It could mean asking a curious question rather than launching a sharp rebuttal. It could mean acknowledging the emotion behind the words, even when I disagree with the content.   This doesn’t mean I become passive or surrender my voice. In Aikido, the practitioner is active and intentional, but never destructive. The aim is not to dominate but to restore balance. Communication can be the same. When I stay grounded, aware of my emotions, steady in my posture, I don’t get pulled into a cycle of attack and defend. I can respond rather than react.   The beauty of Aikido communication is that it turns potential battles into opportunities for connection. Conflict becomes a chance to understand energy, my own and the other persons, and to redirect it toward clarity and respect.   I’ve found that the conversations I remember most are not the ones I “won,” but the ones where I listened, adapted, and created a bridge. Aikido reminds me that true strength is not in overpowering another, but in cultivating harmony. Communication, at its best, is less about victory and more about joining, guiding, and growing together.   Watch for the blind spots. "Think you’ve got it all figured out? 🤔 Your blind spots might have other plans. Dive into Blind Spots in Relationships  and find out what you don’t know you don’t know. 💡 Get your copy today. 📚 http:// tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

I catch myself more often than I’d like to admit, wanting other people to think, act, and decide the way I do. When they don’t, my first reaction is usually frustration. Just the other day, I was sitting at a long traffic light. I had already waited through three cycles, and I was certain this time I’d finally get through. The light turned green, and just as I was ready to move, the car in front of me stopped to let two cars out of a driveway. Really?  Now I was stuck for another full light. My mind jumped straight to judgment: How rude, how inconsiderate! Don’t they know I’m in a hurry? Another time, I was in the grocery store, standing in line with only three items. The person ahead of me was having a full-blown conversation with the checker, laughing, catching up, enjoying the moment. Meanwhile, I stood there stewing. When it was finally time to pay, the customer debated cash or card, rummaged through their wallet, and kept right on chatting. Inside, I was fuming: Do they have no awareness? Don’t they realize I have places to be? Moments like these are endless. And each one exposes the same blind spot: I expect others to see the world through my lens. I want them to move, act, and decide with my priorities in mind. But the truth is, they don’t. They think differently, value different things, and make choices I wouldn’t make. My frustration doesn’t change them; it only robs me of peace. The real challenge isn’t controlling others, it’s practicing self-control. When I stop insisting that others live by my script, I feel less negative, less chaotic, and less out of control. That’s the blind spot I keep working on realizing that others don’t think like me and learning to let that be okay.   Think you see the whole picture? Think again. My book Blind Spots in Relationships will reveal what’s been hiding in plain sight. Grab your copy today & uncover the truth! http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Here is a very familiar story.   Sam and Rachel have been friends for years. Lately, though, things have felt strained. Minor annoyances have stacked up, Sam forgot to return a borrowed book, Rachel canceled lunch twice, and neither addressed the little irritations. Both tucked their frustrations away like stones in a backpack, thinking, ‘I don’t want to cause trouble, so I’ll just let it go.’  But instead of letting it go, they carried it. This was a familiar practice for both.   One evening, Rachel made an offhand remark: “Sam, you’re always late.”   That was the spark. Sam exploded. “Always late? I do more for this friendship than you realize! You never thank me. You bail on plans. And now you’re calling me unreliable? I’m done with this!”   The outburst shocked Rachel. What was meant as a small comment about timing was met with a truckload of anger that didn’t match the offense.   What happened? Sam’s emotional backpack was full. Weeks of unspoken annoyance had been quietly collecting, and Rachel’s small remark tipped it over.   When unfinished business piles up, my emotional reservoir has no room left. A tiny spark feels like an explosion. That’s why road rage, angry outbursts, or icy silence can look so disproportionate; they’re not about the present moment, but about everything carried into it.   The antidote? Self-control in real time. It means noticing when something bothers me and calmly addressing it before it grows into a burden. Saying, “When lunch was cancelled, I felt disappointed,” keeps the backpack light. It doesn’t mean picking a fight; it means releasing the stone before it adds weight.   Self-control is not bottling up feelings; it’s choosing how and when to express them, so they don’t turn into an avalanche. When I let go of offenses as they occur, I free myself and give others a chance to respond without defensiveness.   A backpack emptied daily is light to carry. But if I keep stuffing stones inside, one careless word can break the straps, and every buried stone tumbles down like an avalanche.   Watch for the blind spots.   Think you see the whole picture? Think again. My book Blind Spots in Relationships will reveal what’s been hiding in plain sight. Grab your copy today & uncover the truth! http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp

Some time back, I wrote about motivation. Lately, I’ve been thinking about it differently. A woman in an engineering field recently told me, “I don’t feel motivated to continue this work, or to change jobs. I feel stuck. I don’t feel motivated to do anything.”   Her words struck me.   It is easy to sit around waiting for motivation, like it’s a spark that will suddenly ignite my next big move. But what if that spark never comes?  Waiting for motivation to take flight can feel like waiting for lightning to strike, rare, unpredictable, and beyond my control.   Instead of waiting, what if I flipped the equation? What if, instead of chasing motivation, I pursued small wins that would create it?   Think about it. When I accomplish even a small task, finishing a chapter, making a phone call I’ve been putting off, or trying one new skill, the sense of progress can be energizing. That little surge of satisfaction often stirs more drive than hours of waiting for motivation to appear magically.   I’ve asked myself: What do I enjoy that could also provide the kind of living I want? If I take steps toward that, however small, I’m not just hoping for motivation, I’m building  it.   This is the inversion: rather than motivation leading to success, I let success lead to motivation. Each step becomes proof that I can move forward, and each proof becomes fuel for the next step.   “Climbing in the dark is daunting. If I wait for the lights to turn on before moving, I’ll never start. But if I take one step, feel it hold me, that small success gives me the courage to take another.”   So, maybe the question isn’t, “How do I get motivated?” but rather, “What small success can I create today?”   Because sometimes, motivation doesn’t start the journey; success does.   Watch for the blind spots.   Think you see the whole picture? Think again. My book Blind Spots in Relationships will reveal what’s been hiding in plain sight. Grab your copy today & uncover the truth!  http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp