Floyd was in his 60’s and 70’s in the twenty years I knew him. He was a slim, tall man. He walked the mile to his law office nearly everyday, rain and snow notwithstanding. His walk took him across a long bridge high above the Illinois river. It was a brutal walk in the rain and snow. He introduced me to the Wall Street Journal and the Atlantic, he taught me how to play chess and to keep things in perspective. His sense of humor was dry but always present. He bought a new car every couple of years and loved to keep them meticulously clean. I never saw him angry. And I really never saw him wasting time. 

 

Paul was a miner, in the sense that he owned the mine. He operated the smaller of two silica mines in our area. He was the underdog, and it gave him a tremendous advantage. His business focus was pretty simple, keep your costs down, and know your customers. He spent a lot of time on the road learning about his customers. These strategies earned him a respectable business. He taught me to pay attention to the details, and what it felt like to have someone put their trust in you. He liked boats, so he spent time on the water. He liked to fish and hunt, and I learned a deeper level of respect by hunting with him. I never saw him angry. And I really never saw him wasting time. 

 

What does it mean to be intentional? 

 

The idea of being intentional is overused. 

I much prefer the question: What are you doing when you are at your best? 

 

When I’m at my best, I’m trying to figure something out.

Being curious.

Helping.

Faffing around in nature.

Thinking about others.

 

When I’m not, I’m usually wasting time.