My Dad Drove 40 Minutes Just to Hug Me

My newborn daughter is crying (and has been for the past 2 hours).

My toddler isn't taking her nap.

And in my chest, a familiar feeling constricts with a voice that says:

I should be doing something.

I should be working. I should be making money.

What an insidious thought.

It takes me away from the only moment that actually matters. It convinces me that being here, with my daughters, isn't enough. That I'm not enough unless I'm producing, performing, proving.

Five weeks ago, my second daughter was born. Right before she arrived, I listened to Stillness is the Key by Ryan Holiday (thanks Patrick Diamond for sharing the book with me). The timing wasn't accidental. I knew I needed something to anchor me.

Because here's what no one tells you about being a mission-driven entrepreneur and parent: the guilt is relentless.

When you're with your kids, you feel like you should be working.

When you're working, you feel like you should be with your kids.

You're never fully present. You're always half somewhere else.

So over the last five weeks, I've been practicing something radical.

Stillness.

Not as a nice idea. As a discipline.

Every time that thought comes up (the one that says I should be doing something), I replace it with a new one:

I'm whole. I'm okay. I'm safe. I can be here. And be silent. And be still.

It's hard.

It's hard to feel still when your newborn is screaming at you. It's harder to feel still when your toddler is melting down and you just want five minutes of peace. It’s even harder to feel still when you’re not sure how you’ll pay bills next month.

But I keep coming back to it. Because the alternative is a life I don't want to live.

A life where I'm always chasing the next thing, always feeling behind, always missing the moment right in front of me.

And then, in my stillness, I started to see something I'd missed my entire life

The People Who Taught Me Stillness (Without Ever Saying a Word)

My parents have mastered stillness.

I just never had the language for it until now.

My mom has journaled for as long as I can remember. Not in a frantic, therapeutic way. In a still, intentional way. She writes. She reflects. She captures the moments that matter.

Because of her journals, she can tell me stories about myself from when I was younger. She can find people. Find memories. Create opportunities for connection that are absolutely incredible.

Her journaling has made her calm and collected. It's turned stillness into an inevitable outcome.

Yesterday, I wrote a post on LinkedIn about her. And as I was writing it, I realized: her practice of stillness didn't just change her. It changed me. It's changing my kids. It will change their kids.

When I asked my mom about the success she and my dad have experienced, she didn't talk about what they did.

She talked about what they didn't do.

What they didn't chase. What they didn't sacrifice. What they didn't compromise.

That's stillness.

And my dad? He's always listening.

A couple of weeks ago, he was driving down to support my grandma, who's been having some health struggles. And in the car, he had a spiritual impression: he should come visit me and give me a hug.

So he turned around on the freeway. Drove 40 minutes out of his way. Came over. And gave me a hug.

That's all he did. And it was a hug I desperately needed.

I can share hundreds, if not thousands, of stories where he did that for me. Or for someone else. Where he allowed himself to be still, thought of someone who could use his help, and then took action.

Stillness isn't inaction.

It's clarity. It's presence. It's knowing what actually matters and having the courage to act on it.

Both of my parents are writing books right now. And when I think about the legacy they're leaving, it's not just the books themselves.

It's the way they've lived. The stillness they've practiced. The moments they didn't miss because they were too busy chasing something that didn't matter.

What If You Wrote the Book That Changed Everything?

This email was inspired by a book. Stillness is the Key.

It changed how I think. How I parent. How I show up in my work and my life.

Yesterday, I was interviewing an expert who's building something meaningful. And I asked them a question:

What would happen if he DIDN’T write his book?

And as I pushed him to go deeper and deeper into the what it would look like and feel like, he finally got to the crux of it: who would be left out of progress if he abandoned his God given gifts and didn’t share his stories?

Because a book isn't just a book. It's a way to think. It's a way to lead. It's a way to leave something behind that prepares the world for your kids.

If you've been thinking about writing a book, I want to talk to you.

I'm interviewing mission-driven coaches, experts, and leaders who want to turn their thoughts, their stories, and their results into something they can share with their friends, their family, and the people they're here to serve.

I want to learn what you want to write. The change you want to make. So I can build you a program that makes it easy.

Not someday. Not when you have more time.

Now.

Because the people who need what you know? They're waiting and God is calling.

If that's you, let's talk.

Schedule a call with me here.

Your friend,
Sterling Long!