There are not enough hours in a day to do all of the things you would like to do. That is just a fact. Time is the most precious commodity on Earth. It’s worth more than diamonds, helium and CBD. At the end of your days you won’t wish for more money, a nicer car or a fancier home. You would trade all your worldly possessions (and some of your purely regional possessions) for more time.
Today marks the end of Daylight Saving Time. Most people focus on the negative fact that the sun now sets earlier. But don’t be a Debbie Sundowner. Today is a great day. It is the one day a year when the universe, Father Time, and the American Clocker’s Panel give you a bonus hour.
At 2am local time you received your annual 1-hour time bonus. With that additional hour the universe also handed you an important question:
‘What will you do with your bonus hour?’ -Universe
When you receive a work bonus, a tax refund or a lottery payout, you spend a lot of time thinking about what you will do with the money. But have you spent any time thinking about what you will do with your extra hour? You should. Because until you can buy a time machine from Marty McFly, your hour is more valuable and more precious than any monetarybonus you will ever receive.
Invest Your Time
Take a moment today to think about how you will invest your bonus hour. If you came to Albrecht Time Investment Advisors LLC, we would encourage you to invest your time in one of the following areas:
Your personal growth
Your peace of mind
Your bucket list
Your personal legend
Anything that will make you laugh.
Don’t waste time. Invest it in the most important areas of your life. By spending your time wisely you will enjoy a richer, more fulfilling and more impactful experience on Earth. Remember, you will be dead sooner than you want to be. So take advantage of all the time you can get while you are still here.
*If you know someone who could benefit from this message, please share it with them.
There is nothing I like more than a good adventure. That’s why my family and I went for an 8.5 mile paddle down the Milwaukee River last weekend. The weather was perfect. The water level was ideal. So we loaded up our 3 kayaks and our 17-foot canoe and set out for an afternoon of paddling, floating and fishing.
3 miles into our trip we spotted an inviting island in the stream. We paddled towards it, half expecting to see Dolly Pardon and Kenny Rogers. We pulled our boats onto the island and had a fun break in our trip. My kids swam. I fished. My wife Dawn relaxed and took pictures.
When I got out of my canoe I noticed something alarming 200 yards down the river. From bank to bank, in a straight line across the river, I could see the water was frothing, foaming and white. It looked dangerous, like a low overhead dam. That kind of water obstruction is never something to mess with.
As I mapped our trip I hadn’t noticed any damn dams that we would have to portage around. But that’s exactly what this looked like. I anxiously pulled out my phone to see if I had missed something. But I didn’t find any insights to the boiling water just below me.
I didn’t notice any good place to portage around the water obstacle either. This wasn’t good. Especially since we had over 5 miles to paddle to get to the takeout point where our other car was parked.
I called my family together to discuss the challenge in front of us. I told them that I was going to paddle down and scout the boiling water. I wanted them to paddle to a spot on the right side of the river where they would be close enough for my followup instruction, but out of the current.
Preparing For The Worst
I gathered all the valuables (phones, wallets, sunglasses and beef jerky) and sealed them in the waterproof pack in my canoe. I filled the pack with plenty of air so that it would float downstream if the boat flipped. Then I reminded my children that if they got flipped out of the boat that they should float feet-first down the river to avoid hitting their head on a rock. I thought my advice would make me look good when Family Services came to visit me afterwards.
With my family as prepared as they could be, we pushed off Albrecht Island. The Celine Dion song from Titanic was playing in my head as I slowly paddled down river for a closer look at the whitewater. To add to the pressure of the moment, my 9-year old son Magnus was my co-pilot, sitting in the bow of the canoe. If things went bad, he was my first priority.
Upon Closer Inspection
As we approached the whitewater I could see that it was as lively and frothy as it appeared upstream. But as I scanned the water from bank to bank there were no signs of a dam, boulders or a tree in the water. There wasn’t any banjo music either, which was a huge relief. What I saw was textbook whitewater rapids. The kind of rapids that add an exciting roller coaster moment to any paddle.
Let’s Do This!
I smiled broadly knowing we were going to run the rapids, rather than portage around them. I shouted instructions to Magnus that we were going to point the boat straight downstream, then paddle hard, directly into the foaming, rolling rapids. I signaled enthusiastically to Dawn, Ava (13) and Johann (12) to follow us.
Then Magnus and I dug our paddles into the water, and sped into the roiling water. All around us the water was loud, heaving and foaming. The speed was exhilarating. And the rocking of the boat was thrilling. A moment later we had passed through the whitewater and found ourselves floating on the rapidly flowing flat-water below.
I was giddy, My heart was pounding. And I shouted to Magnus, ‘What did you think of that?’
He immediately shouted back ‘That was awesome!’
We quickly wheeled the canoe around and paddled back upstream to wait for the others to shoot the rapids. We positioned our boat so that if anyone tipped we could quickly paddle to them. We were prepared to grab their kayak, paddle, flip flops, or any other items lost in the adventure.
One by one Ava, Johann and Dawn approached the rapids and shot through them, fully intact, fully upright and with full sets of pearly white teeth flashing in wide smiles.
Reunited And It Feels So Good
A minute later we were all reunited downstream. Everyone was smiling, laughing, high- fiving, and talking about how much fun that was. The kids said the rapids were the best part of the trip so far. Dawn and I agreed.
We pointed our boats downstream and paddled for 2 more hours, covering 5 more miles. The river was beautiful and we had a great time. But the highlight of the trip was the rapids.
There was a great lesson in this experience. The part of the trip that I was most worried about turned out to be the most fun of all. It was when I felt most alive and most engaged. Life often works that way.
It was a reminder to take on difficult challenges. We must continue to try new things, and hard things and scary things. By pushing ourselves we grow and learn and enjoy life to the fullest. We gain experience, confidence and perspective. And we add interesting chapters to our personal story.
When I launched my advertising and idea agency, The Weaponry, it was a lot like approaching whitewater in a canoe. The adventure was full of threats and opportunities. But the scariest parts have turned out to be the most exciting and rewarding. The rapids provide the best stories. And the best opportunities to learn and grow. I’ve come out stronger than I went in. I’ve also learned the rapids are more fun when you have others with you. Because life and business are team sports.
Don’t avoid the scary stuff. Scout it out. Prepare for it. Then paddle towards it, fast and straight. You’ll navigate your way through it, and find that it wasn’t nearly as scary as you thought it would be. In fact, the scary parts are often the best parts. You just don’t know that until you reach the other side.
*If you know someone who could profit from this story, please share it with them.
We paddled from Saukville, Wisconsin to Grafton’s Veterans Park. We all thought the name of the park where we put in was pretty funny. But the Tendick family probably didn’t think so…
As I prepared for Mother’s Day this year I wrote not 1, but 2 different blog posts about my Mom. On Mother’s Day I decided to publish The most important gift my mother gave me. Which meant I had to figure out what to do with my bonus post.
This week is also special for my Mama. Somehow she managed to birth all 4 of her kids in the 4 days between May 22nd and May 25th. You can read about that little bit of Motherly Wizardry in the post: What makes these siblings freakishly unique. So to kick off my Mom’s Giving Birth Week, here is the Non-Mother’s Day Mother’s Day post.
Happy Mother’s Day! A great Mom is like a subscription to the Jelly Of The Month Club, because it is the gift that keeps on giving. I have an amazing Mom. Which is total luck. Because I simply inherited her. But my Mom, Jill Albrecht, has given me an unfair advantage in life.
Mom-ing Runs In The Family
My Mom started off life with an unfair advantage too, because she had a great Mom. My Grammy, Lillian (Anderson) Sprau was a saintly Norwegian American woman. She had 9 children and lived to be 100 years old. When you have 9 kids to practice on, you get to really hone your mothering skills. My Grammy taught my Mom those skills. My mom then taught her children, including me and my sisters Heather, Alison and Donielle.
My Mama taught us all the big stuff. The importance of a good education. How to advocate for ourselves and for others. To value time with family. And the value of humor.
My Mom taught us countless little lessons too. In fact, one of the lessons she taught me probably seemed so small to her that it wasn’t much of a lesson at all. But I still use it every day.
Make Your Own Lunch.
My my mom wisely delegated lunch making responsibilities to me and my sisters at an early age. After all, we had a vested interest in eating. By the time I was 12 years old I was packing my own lunch every day before school. It quickly became a habit.
I packed my own lunch every day in junior high and high school. After I moved out of the dorms in college I made my own lunch every day. When I started my first real job after college I made my own lunch too.
Fast forward 2 decades. I have had a successful career in advertising. I have had fancy pants sounding titles, including Executive Vice President, Chief Creative Officer and CEO. Today, I own my own business, an advertising and idea agency called The Weaponry. Yet every day before I leave for the office I still make my own lunch.
It saves me a lot of money.
I have portion control.
I can eat wherever I am.
I can eat whenever I get hungry.
Nobody can spit in my lunch.
It creates a predictable routine.
I don’t have to think about where to go for lunch.
It teaches my children a good habit.
Our mothers create good habits and values that last a lifetime. In fact, you may be surprised how many of your daily habits, your brand preferences and your techniques were created by your Mom. After all, before you met your Mom you were pretty clueless.
Thanks Mom for all the big things you gave me. But today, I am also thankful for the little things. The things I do automatically because you taught me to. They benefit me at home, at work, with friends and amongst strangers. You did a wonderful job teaching me to do things your way. I don’t know what happened with my sisters. They must be Dad’s fault.
Yesterday I watched the touching tributes to President George H.W. Bush during his presidential funeral at the National Cathedral in Washington DC. The highlight was George W. Bush’s eulogy, honoring his father, our 41st president, not as the Commander-In-Chief, but as a caring family man.
W’s thoughtful and tearful tribute brought back powerful memories of my grandfathers’ funerals. My Grampy Sprau, a Navy veteran, died in 2009 when he was 92. Three years earlier, in 2006, I lost my Grandpa Albrecht when he was 89. Both men left great human legacies. By that, I mean they left behind a lot of great humans as their legacies. In total, the two men had 21 children. Which means that they dutifully obeyed God’s command to go forth, be fruitful, and multiply.
The Honor of Honoring
Yet somehow, despite all those children, and nearly 50 grandchildren, when my Grandfathers each died I was given the honor of delivering their eulogy. In full disclosure, no one else wanted the job. It is very difficult to talk at a funeral. So I volunteered for the job. I was told that the only reservations my family had about me speaking was that once I had a microphone and a captive audience I might not stop.
The Great Lesson
delivering a eulogy is an incredible honor and responsibility. But writing my first tribute for my Grandpa Albrecht also taught me one of the most important lessons of my life. Because writing a eulogy forces you to look at an entire life from the very end. It is how you complete the story of an adventure on Earth. And as I looked at Grandpa Albrecht’s entire life, from the very end, it forced me to think about my entire life from the closing curtain.
The Eulogy View
This view-point, makes you think about your life as if it were a book, movie or play. It makes you think about the plot, the characters, the obstacles and setbacks. It makes you think about the achievements, the risks, the rewards and the adventures. It makes you think about your contributions and your relationships. Your responsibilities and your regrets. It makes you think about wasting time and making time and taking time and the scarcity of time.
As I wrote my Grandfather’s eulogy, I realized that sooner than I would like, I too will be done with my own story. And if I wanted to make a difference and create a great tale for someone else to tell, I had to do it now. I had to get busy doing the things I would regret not doing. I had to choose my own adventure. I had to live a story worth sharing.
Valuing Our Time
I began seeing more value in each day. I started taking more pictures and documenting my own journey. I began contacting friends and family more. I took on bigger challenges and big changes in my career. Within 6 months I moved to a new state. I advanced two positions along my career path, and nearly doubled my salary.
I planned more vacation time with my family, instead of letting vacation days vanish at the end of the year. Because I had learned that those vacation days represented the pages of my story.
Write Your Rough Draft
Following my Grandfather’s funeral I began writing down more plans and goals. In fact, I spent the last hour of my 39th year writing about all that I wanted to do in the decade ahead. I knew I would have major regrets if I never tried to start my own advertising agency. Because when I looked at my life from the end, that was part of my story.
Two years later I launched my own agency. I called it The Weaponry. At the same time I started sharing the things I have learned along my journey in this blog. I try to share my insights and observations whenever I think they may add value to others. But lately I have noticed that I am offering the same piece of advice to others over and over. That advice: Look at your story from the end. Because from the end we can clearly see what we could have done, and what we should have done.
By using the end-perspective in your early decisions, you can actually steer the course of your life to align with your personal legend (#TheAlchemist). That’s exactly what I am trying to do. It’s what I encourage you to do. In the end, the very end, this lesson was the greatest gift my Grandfather every gave me. And I wanted you to have it too.
Vacation time is the most important time in your career. If you squander your vacation time it will have a negative impact on your work, your happiness, your family, your friends and your tan lines.
I spent last week on vacation at the beach in Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. My family of 5 loaded up our Family Truckster and drove from the western shore of Lake Michigan to the Eastern Shore of the second largest barrier island on the east coast. We drove because we bring 5 bikes and 5 boogie boards, which are hard to stuff in the overhead compartment on a plane.
Boogie On Board
I spent a lot of time boogie boarding. It is one of my favorite ways to spend a vacation day. Boogie boading is like life (#gettingdeep). I have thought a lot about why I enjoy boogie boarding so much, and what it has taught me. Here’s what I came up with.
Top 16 lessons I have learned while boogie boarding.
Be present. When you are boogie boarding you become totally absorbed in the moment. Like Bounty. Being present makes you feel alive. Feeling alive feels good.
You have to choose the waves you want to ride. Opportunities come at us over and over. We have to decide which ones are best for us. Others around you will jump on waves that aren’t right for you. Let them.
You have to kick to get started. To catch a wave you have to start with a little forward momentum. Which means you need to get moving first. Never forget that. My son Johann (11) says ‘If you don’t start kicking you’ll just float.’ #truth
Sometimes you are too early. We often get excited about an opportunity too early. Oh well. We tried.
Sometimes you are too late. You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. I’ve missed many a great wave because I didn’t time it right and it got away.
Sometimes what looks great isn’t. A job, a client, an opportunity can look perfect. But it doesn’t turn out that way. This will happen. A lot. But on the other hand…
Sometimes what looks bad isn’t. I have caught waves that I thought would be forgettable, and they turned out to be the best rides of the day. My career has been like that too. Some of my favorite clients and opportunities started inconspicuously. Don’t write them off.
There will always be more waves to catch. Whenever you miss an opportunity, know there will be an endless supply of others. You just have to paddle back out and get ready for them.
Sometimes a great ride ends with a spectacular crash. This is part of the fun. It’s part of the story and the experience. Take the ride anyway.
Sometimes you lose your suit. Waves and jobs and life all have a funny way of trying to return us to our natural state of nudity.
Sometimes you get stung by jellyfish. 3 of the 5 members of my family were stung multiple times by jellyfish on our latest trip. The sting is temporary. The story is forever. And now we include a bottle of vinegar in our beach bin. #nobodygotpeedon
Sometimes you swim with sharks. When you wade into the ocean you are entering the shark’s world. I have seen sharks several times while boogie boarding. Look for fins. Listen for the Jaws music. If you see or hear these signs, quickly back out of the water while not smelling tasty. The sharks will pass. There are sharks in businesses and social circles too. Keep an eye out for them.
Sometimes you just have to close your eyes and hold on. Really great waves can get gnarly. In those cases you have to get primal. Hold on to your board. Shut your eyes to keep the saltwater and sand out, and try to outlast the chaos. The rest of life works the same way.
The scarier the wave the more exciting the ride. That’s all I have to say about that.
Rip currents are real. There is always a chance you will get sucked out to sea. We review how to swim out of rip currents and rip tides with our kids every time before we boogie. We also talk to our kids about how to avoid drugs and drinking and the wrong crowds. Which are the rip currents of dry land.
People on the beach wish they were doing what you are doing. But people boogie boarding are never jealous of those lying on the beach. The same holds true of entrepreneurship and exercise and all kinds of adventure. Because Active > Passive.
Take your vacation time. Enjoy as much life as you can. Take chances. Be Present. Learn from everything you do. And come back better than you left.
I love track and field. I first got involved in the sport as a freshman in high school, mostly because I was terrible at baseball. But also because it was co-ed. And, I thought the fact that it was a no-cut sport significantly improved my chances of actually making the team.
I have competed in a wide variety of track and field events. My resume includes the 100 meters, 400 meters, 1600 meters, high jump, long jump, shot put, discus, javelin, hammer, 35-pound weight, 110 meter hurdles, 4×100 meter relay, 4×400 meter relay, and, yes, even the pole vault (which I approached more like the high jump with a stick).
I liked every event I ever competed in. I love the energy and atmosphere at track meets. But you know when track and field becomes really fun?
The Second Meet.
The second meet is the most important and impactful event in a track athlete’s career. In your first meet you are just setting a baseline. But once you get to your second meet you walk in with a time, distance or height to beat. And most of the time, the results in the second meet are a rewarding step forward from the first meet.
In track and field, every result is measured in minutes and seconds, or feet and inches. Which means that your linear progression is clear and quantifiable. Your undeniable improvement in the second meet gets you thinking about the third meet. It makes you think about practicing more, training harder, lifting weights, warming up smarter and getting some better hype music. You start wondering just how much better you can get. The seeds of self-improvement are planted, fertilized and watered in that second meet.
The Broader Lesson
This is not just a track and field thing. This is a life thing. The same principle applies to our careers, our relationships, our responsibilities and our hobbies. Our first attempts simply set a baseline. The second time we do anything we start the improvement process. We recognize that as we pour more energy, time and focus into any activity we get better and better. This is true of presenting a closing argument in court, hiring good employees and folding fitted sheets (although my wife, Dawn is so good at the fitted sheet thing that I focus on the closing arguments in court instead).
Don’t be afraid to try something new because you think you will be bad at it. You will be bad at it. Or at least you will be the worst you will ever be. But that first attempt creates a starting point. The climb from there is both exciting and rewarding. As you improve, remember that first attempt. Recognize how far you have come since you first started. It is one of the most rewarding reflections in life.
*To see if these posts improve over time, please consider subscribing to this blog. Like the measurements of my track and field days, I now track follows, likes and comments to see if I am getting better. And like track and field, I am happy blogging is a no-cut sport.
My sophomore year in high school I had a teacher named Mr. Bohi. He was a large, bear of a man who spoke with booming confidence and authority. Originally from Iowa, his life path lead him to the Ivy League town of Hanover, New Hampshire. In Hanover he taught high school students lessons about humans, through the lens of history. He also smiled at you when he was mad at you, which I found quite challenging to process.
Mr. Bohi was a great teacher who taught me a lot. But on the first day of class he said something that I strongly disagreed with. As he launched into his initial lesson, he pulled out a dollar bill, and made a stump speech about the power of money, and its enormous influence over world history.
He orated about the fallacy of money, saying that currency wasn’t real. That money is an illusion in our heads. And that a plain piece of paper was actually more valuable than a dollar bill. One of the things he said that day has bothered me for 30 years. So today I am putting this note in the mailbox and sending it to Mr. Bohi.
I love doing what other people say can’t be done. I love solving problems that others think can’t be solved. As an entrepreneur and Founder of the advertising and idea agency The Weaponry, I appreciate a good challenge. And I realize it is my will to do things that makes them happen. Even if it takes 30 years.
*In case you couldn’t read my handwriting, this is what the note says:
Dear Mr. Bohi,
In 1988, in my first class with you, you said that money wasn’t that valuable. Specifically, you told us we couldn’t write a Shakespearean sonnet on a dollar bill. I want you to know: