I believe we use the "it's not productive" excuse to avoid conversations that go deeper in a relationship than

whether or not the Cowboys won their game last weekend.

It was a Thursday afternoon and shortly after lunch. I sat at my desk in the Lone Oak office, reflecting on what I needed to do next. Well, to be completely honest, I was more focused on mustering some level of motivation to begin my next task.

I had just wrapped up a project that morning. And normally around 2 p.m., every day, I hit my lowest energy point. I know this from experience—I’ve tracked my energy levels throughout each day for years, paying close attention to how they fluctuate. (Don’t ask me to do anything that important at 2pm.)

At that moment, I was stalled out.

I got up and walked out into our main office where I found Lexa, hard at work coordinating our next event. She looked up from her computer and asked, “You ok?” The look on my face in combination with my body language most likely said, “I’m dying here…no energy…looking for a distraction.”

I’m confident she was praying for a phone call or some other deterrent that would keep her from entertaining my plea to do anything but find another project. However, she was nice enough to entertain me with some idle chit chat for a moment. I began to realize a reality in our 3 minute conversation. I have an infatuation, some would say my addiction, with getting things accomplished. Progress feeds my madness. I began to ask myself, “Could there be a benefit in slowing down, leaving progress on the back burner, and trying to have a little more fun with those people around me?”

My dad, the infamous farmer in Kansas, has always said, “We need to make progress. It's why we’re here.” 

And though I agree with dad, and realize his work ethic and focus on progress are a few things that have allowed him to be successful, I wondered if my "balance" may be in question. It’s important to drive progress and “accomplish,” but I’ve also discovered beauty through a slower pace.

The balance I’ve discovered between “productivity” and “stillness” has been rewarding. In fact, game changing…and strangely enough, I believe I make just as much progress, or more, when I've discovered that balance.

This morning, just a few days before Christmas, I came to Lone Oak with a few projects in mind. I got them done by 10:30AM. I then spent the next 2 hours in a deeper conversation with Buddy, our newest employee, in the office and around the wood burning stove. We talked about how life was going to look 12 months from that day. He shared the progress he wanted to make and the things that were most important to him. He promised to write those things down and go back to them regularly so they remained fresh on his mind.

We talked about his dad who passed away when Buddy was seventeen, and my sister's battle, a few years ago, with a terminal brain tumor. It was a comforting & meaningful conversation. Some would say, "unproductive."  But I believe we use the "it's not productive" excuse to avoid conversations that go deeper in a relationship than whether or not the Cowboys won their game last weekend.

As we wrapped up our conversation, Buddy shared a comment with a question attached to it, “I can’t believe you took that much time with me.” I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I felt great about the encouragement and clarity we were able to deposit in one another’s emotional bank accounts. We’re a better team because of the time we took. 

During the holidays, and nearly any time of year, it’s easy to get caught up in all the hosting, doing, baking, cleaning & other activities. Take a moment to shut it all down for a bit. Listen to yourself breathe. Ask a friend a question and sit back while you wait for their answer. 

You don’t have to be running Clark W. Griswold’s Christmas Festival 365 days out of the year for your life to be a success. Find a quiet street and invite Grandpa to go for a walk. While on your stroll, ask him about what Christmas was like when he was ten…then sit back and wait for an answer. His response will be a gift.

Remain encouraged, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays,

Brian