“Balance is not something you find; it’s something you create.”

• Jana Kingsford

Two buddies and I started a Men’s Group years ago in Milwaukee, and it’s still known as “Brothers Seeking Balance.” Then, along comes a 20-something high school dropout (turned college graduate) to throw poo all over our “seeking” element.

Semantics? Yeah, probably. It’s difficult to create unless we know what we’re seeking.

Balance is worth creating, seeking, pursuing and building.

As business people, parents, partners — candidly, as human beings, we tend to imagine that if only __________ would happen, then ___________ would naturally fall into place.

I have friends who are executives in public companies. A few of them are in an absolute tizzy come earnings call season. Most of the others have created balance, and earnings season is just a thing they’re prepared for.

End of the quarter. End of the month. Holidays. (There are two this week, Christmas and Hannukah). Things. Stuff. Deadlines. Some are important, some more than others. Balance is our best bet to get to them in the right order.

I owe my attorney 113 pages of documents. I owe my Clients three proposals. I owe my kids their Dad’s attention on this first Christmas which will find us all dispersed geographically.

I owe myself the effort to create balance, not just this holiday week. We all owe ourselves the effort to create balance. It’s a gift we can give ourselves and all with whom our paths will cross.

“We crave certainty, while ambiguity is the definition of Faith. Certainty is the antithesis of Faith.”

• A member of our Friday Morning Lion Chasers Group this morning…

As groups, we’re better when all our members offer insight and perspective. This particular dude has been gone for the better part of a year and returns with a little dose of Seth Godin-esque-making-me-better.

The Lion Chasers is a Bible Study group, and this lesson goes beyond Faith. In business, we crave certainty, yet we don’t know if the tariffs will be implemented or at what levels or what the direct impact will be. We crave certainty, so we price the proposal at a point where “they’d be foolish not to buy,” yet how can we be sure that price is the swing consideration?

Even in the best plans, there is ambiguity because the future ain’t happened yet. Even in the best post-mortem deal reviews, there is ambiguity because we can’t know every thought, reaction, or non-verbal sign that might have impacted the outcomes.

Let’s be certain about the things we know. In Faith, that’s right up there on the Cross as a reminder. In business, we can be certain about our preparation. We can be certain about our intention. We can be certain about whether or not we’ve done everything we could do to get to this moment.

Then, it’s about what we do next.

“Hey, I was just checking the calendar, and it turns out Christmas falls on the 25th again this year!”

• Ralph Cramm, a wildly successful and grumpy pro from whom I learned a great deal in the 80’s

It’s 7:40 AM CST as I write this post, and already I’ve had two people say, “Well, nothing is going to happen between now and the first of the year…” That’s not a reason for them to coast. It’s an excuse. Back in the day, Ralph would have none of that. In this day, neither should we.

Business is a competitive field, and whenever a competitor uses an excuse, they create an opportunity (and, perhaps, an obligation) for us to act – a reason to differentiate.

The reason Christmas falls on the 25th of December is up for some debate, and there is no definitive source. Ralph’s point was that it’s no surprise. (I checked, Independence Day is on July 4th again, too!)

Business might lull around a holiday because some use it as an excuse. Procrastination is alive and well in American commerce. When we turn that coin over, we’ll see that “tails” is the reality that many of our Clients, prospective Clients, and networking partners have time on their hands and maybe some open space in their brains. It’s a perfect time of year to deliver value, present ideas, and plant seeds (figuratively speaking – agriculturally, it’s a crappy time to plant actual seeds in Iowa) for things that might make a difference.

When faced with an excuse, find a reason. When presented with a reason, find a way to act. When acting, find a way to make it about the other party. A difference will be made!

“Dad, this last week has proven to me that there are no coincidences, and all we can focus on is this moment and whatever we do next.”

• The Tallest of The Three, during our 14-hour drive yesterday, before our 7-hour drive today

I know; I said, “No Diff until Friday.” Sue me.

There is a deeply positive and personal context to this one, but let’s focus on the business side for now.

For 22+ years, The Daily Difference has focused on “next.” The rear-view mirror is smaller than the windshield for multiple perfectly good reasons.

The “no coincidences” piece, people without Faith can write off to “karma” or “the universe” or whatever they choose. For people with Faith, we know better.

The “now” and “next” parts are perhaps more pragmatic and practical. Last quarter’s results are posted, and we can’t change them. Blame GAAP, blame a market swing, blame whatever we want, but it’s in the rear. View. Mirror.

What we do next is what matters most. Always has. Always will. And, as we touched on yesterday, we can honor the noise or pursue the beauty.

Make it a great day, Difference-Makers!

^{Editor’s Note: They’re watching, listening and learning, even when we think they aren’t.}

“The thing is, we’re not running out of noise, but we can always use more beauty.“

• Seth Godin, from a blog post December 6, 2024

Seth makes me better, business better, and pretty much everything and everyone he encounters better, and it’s partly because he’s intentional about getting better every day. I think it was 2002-ish when we hired him to speak at a banking conference (his Purple Cow era), and I’ve not missed a day of his writing since. Seth Godin consistently cuts through the noise.

As this post hits your inbox, my world, and this Monday in particular, has imbalanced amounts of noise and beauty. I’ll have a choice whether to lean into the noise or soak in the beauty. It’s a choice we all face every day.

The noise just is. On this day, and for the next few days, the beauty awaits as I drive The Tallest of The Three to Montana to “launch” his next chapter.

21 hours of him and me and as much of his belongings as we can pile in a Jeep Wrangler Sport. Fortunately, that volume coincides with what will fit in a studio apartment. 21 hours of traction tires whining on the Interstate until they get to the terrain they’re made for. But that’s not the noise to which I was referring.

If we’re not mindful, noise is the order of the day. Clicks. Posts. Feeds. Ads. Banter. Badgering. Conflict. Fear. Politics. Holiday shtuff. Shtuff in general!

The noise will be there when we get back. So, please start with the beauty, no matter how easy it is to forget that some beauty comes to us in parts of the day so mundane we’ve become numb to them. The way the light hits the crystal on the bar when the sun comes up and goes down. The way the frost looks when we step outside to get the paper. (Yes, I still get my paper on paper!) The part of the message that the young pro you’ve been mentoring gets just right after weeks of, well, noise.

Less “noise” from me this week, as The Diff will take a “driving through the beauty” hiatus until Friday. Make it a great week!

“All right, Striker, you listen, and listen close. Flying a plane is no different from riding a bicycle. It’s just a lot harder to put baseball cards in the spokes.”

• Steve McCroskey (Lloyd Bridges) to Ted Striker (Robert Hays) from the movie Airplane, circa 1980

It’s hard to imagine that this classic (yes, classic) comedy movie came out 44 years ago. It seems like almost that long ago that we could poke fun at ourselves (and each other) without backlash.

I get it. Humor isn’t funny if it’s harmful or hurtful. Surely it’s time to at least re-examine what’s harmful and hurtful versus just funny.

In the early 2000s, I was part of a relentless senior leadership team. We were relentlessly hard on each other, relentlessly successful, and relentlessly protective of each other. We were like my grandma. She could say whatever she wanted to or about anyone in her family, but if anyone from “outside” took a shot, sweet Margie Stark turned into a ferocious Mama Bear. In that leadership team twenty years ago and the Stark-Heston family even further back, we also laughed a lot. We laughed with each other, and we laughed at each other.

Ted Striker’s “drinking problem” and Steve McCroskey’s “wrong week to quit” shticks were funny. The intent wasn’t to belittle addictions, it was to make us laugh. And laugh we did.

There is a time and a season for everything. And now, it would seem, is the right week to quit taking ourselves so seriously. As I opened my Wall Street Journal on Thursday, the front page told me that the French government had collapsed, that the South Korean government was about to, and that the CEO of a division of a vast health insurer had been gunned down in cold blood in midtown Manhattan. Want serious? Them right there are some serious, alarming and, in the latter case, tragic stories.

Those aren’t things to laugh about. For many, they might be things worth shedding a tear over, especially for the family and co-workers of that CEO.

The coffee spill on the blue prints? The slip of the tongue in the presentation? The reply all e-mail that shouldn’t have been a reply all e-mail? In comparison, they’re worth laughing at and about.

Laughter is freeing. It releases endorphins and eases stress. We live in an endorphin-starved time and in a stress-filled world. Let’s look for reasons to laugh, rather than judge. Let’s look for reasons to chuckle rather than chafe.

Surely that might make a difference. It just might, and don’t call me Shirley.

“Don’t wait until the conditions are perfect to begin. Beginning makes the conditions perfect.”

• Alan Cohen (b. 1950), author of almost two dozen inspirational books

Early in my career, I was fascinated by motivational speakers. Zig Ziglar was one that all budding sales pros were encouraged to see. Zig would give us a “check-up from the neck up,” and we’d all run off feeling motivated and ready to run through walls for about 36 hours. There was value, most of which came from a decision to sustain whatever motivation they gave us. Still, the beginning was key.

It’s pretty difficult to sustain what we don’t begin.

Times of transition are maddeningly complicated. Signals, whether mixed, non-existent, conflicting, misread or just plain missed — even the simplest of them, can be hard to see through the fog if we’re just standing still.

A consistent theme across all the good ones, and I’m not just talking about motivational speakers now, is the idea of a beginning. Getting started. Sports analogy aside, Michael Jordan said, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” My beloved high school coach, Herb, told me and the Tallest of The Three, “Hes, shooters shoot.”

For those of us with Faith, a passage in the Bible instructs us to “be still and know that I am God.” Over time, I wonder if I’ve often wrecked that instruction, either by being too still too long or by taking my shot before I’m open.

The cool thing about the beginning is that it doesn’t have to be an all-in-moon shot. It can be as simple as a single step. A note. A question. And, back to the last paragraph, it’s easier to hear the instructions if we’re listening for them.

“The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide you’re not going to stay where you are.”

• George Eliot (1819 -1880), English novelist, poet

It can be a scary step or an exciting step, but it is always a necessary step.

It can be a struggle to balance waiting for the right time. In the new season of Yellowstone, Mo reminds Kayce, that if we’re connected to the right influence – it’s not a decision, it becomes obvious and “then it won’t feel like a choice.”

In case that doesn’t happen, we have to leave the dock, we have to move. We have to trust and decide that we can’t stay here to get there.

It can be a scary step or an exciting step, but it is a necessary step.

“Stories have to be told or they die, and when they die, we can’t remember who we are or why we’re here.”

• Sue Monk Kidd (b. 1948), American historical novelist, written in The Secret Life of Bees

Storytelling.

We’re approaching when we gather the kids and read “The Night Before Christmas.” It will be a couple hours after we go hear the telling of the story upon which Christmas is really based.

Why do we still gather 24, 22, and 18-year-olds together to read a book they have probably memorized?

Because the telling has become the story, and we hope it is for their kids so that they, too, can remember who they are and why they’re here. The 24-year-old can’t return to the Midwest, so we’ll probably have to video call her. And, it might be the last Christmas Eve the five of us are together.

So might it be for any of us. There’s no guarantee of tomorrow, or even later today. Let’s make an effort to leave a story worth telling and to tell stories worth keeping alive.

“You can blast your way through mud, but you can’t blast your way out of mud.  You have to ease your way out of mud, or you have to get pulled out.”

• Dick Heston, finding me and our Massey Ferguson 165 up to the axles in the mud, circa 1974

“I tell you that to tell you this…”

• Pastor Jon Anenson, Lead Pastor, Lutheran Church of Hope in Waukee, IA

To whatever degree I grew up, it was on a farm in Southeast Iowa, and as a farm kid, Thanksgiving is hard-wired into my circuits. Maybe because the farm is a great place to learn a lesson that we too easily forget these days.

We deserve nothing. Therefore, there is little, if anything, we can do all by ourselves.

Except for getting stuck.

That we typically do all by ourselves.

Here’s where Pastor Jon and Dad co-host the lesson.

“I tell you that, to tell you this…” Jon would say. And Dad would go on, “If you see mud ahead, and think you can get through it, then floor it, using momentum rather than horsepower. If you don’t see it, or if you under-estimate how deep it is, and find yourself in “over your head” (or, up to the axles…), the throttle is not your friend.  Another tractor with a big chain is the way through.”

The “other tractor,” Pastor Jon would say as Dad passed the mic back to him, is God. Everything for which we say thanks at the table on Thursday — it’s a gift. And the fact that we’re even at a table on Thursday giving thanks is a gift.

Thanksgiving is a verb, from where I sit. It’s the active giving of thanks for Blessings we don’t deserve.

2024 has (technical term) sucked, yet when I account for all I’ve been given, all with which He has Blessed me, the list of names, events, experiences and relationships far outweigh 2024’s high level of suckitude. And, for those who are alone Thursday, my prayer for you is that you learn that with the “other tractor,” we’re never really alone.

Even if we’re stuck, let’s give Thanks for the One and the ones who will pull us out, as long as our pride doesn’t keep us in the mud.

Happy Thanksgiving. The Diff is off Friday. Catch you on Monday!