Character Development – Distant Moon https://distantmoon.com Human Flourishing through Film Wed, 13 Aug 2025 17:17:45 +0000 en hourly 60 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 https://distantmoon.com/app/uploads/2025/05/Web-Logo-Main-96x96.avif Character Development – Distant Moon https://distantmoon.com 32 32 The Most Important Principle We’ve Learned https://distantmoon.com/character-development/the-most-important-principle-weve-learned/ https://distantmoon.com/character-development/the-most-important-principle-weve-learned/#respond Fri, 25 Jul 2025 15:10:40 +0000 https://distantmoon.com/?p=9905 For over a decade, I (Ian) have lived in the weeds of film production – writing, producing, directing, editing, and stressing (a LOT) about every final product I was entrusted with. I’ve also fought the good fight against using em-dashes (If you follow Linked-in AI conversations, you get me. But thats neither here nor there) Back to being in the weeds. I mean, I’m an artist. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? If I’m not working harder, longer, and with more care, I’m not doing my job as a film director. Right?
But then burnout hit. And hit hard. I realized something had to change. I saw two paths forward:
Learn from entrepreneurs, artists, and business coaches how to build a company of excellence in a sustainable way, OR
Quit, leave the film industry, and find a “real job.”


(Spoiler alert) I chose option #1. That decision, made about five years ago, led me to discover that not only is sustainable growth possible while producing excellent work, but (shockingly) the systems and principles that make it sustainable actually lead to better work than the “burnout method”.


The last four years of business coaching and masterminds have yielded great insights, “oh duh, why aren’t we doing that?” reminders, and general encouragement that building anything of significance takes an equation that looks roughly like =((“insane amount of work” + “delegation” + “consistency”)* time)).


But this isn’t a post about burnout. And I can already hear my college lit professor telling me for the hundredth time “Get to the point.” So here’s the point: In all this learning, one principle rose to the surface and transformed everything about how I approach filmmaking and storytelling: “YOU ARE NOT THE HERO.”


In early 2023, a friend recommended the book Building a StoryBrand by Donald Miller. It promised to “clarify your message so your customers will listen.” Sounded good! 


Cue montage:
Ian opens Audible, clicks “use 1 credit,” binges the book at 2x speed, and can’t get enough. Donald Miller explains: “Audiences are the hero of their own lives. To connect with them, you have to be THE GUIDE, not the hero.” Mind blown. Ian immediately orders a hard copy. Smash cut to the next day: Amazon box ripped open, Ian highlighting every sentence (the book now glows yellow). Fast forward two months: an email invites Ian to join Don Miller’s inaugural Mastermind. Ian doesn’t know exactly why, but it must have something to do with the multi-step form he filled out at 1am that one night to get access to the “storybrand tools.” Ian runs downstairs and screams to his wife “DONALD MILLER’S TEAM INVITED ME TO A MASTERMIND.” Ian’s wife says, “who’s team?”

Smash cut to: Ian says yes to the mastermind, hops on a plane, and finds himself in a room full of intimidating (but shockingly friendly) entrepreneurs.

Okay, you get it. Through all of this, the idea “You are NOT the Hero. You are the GUIDE” kept coming up. And the more I heard it, the more it resonated. I think the most important truths are funny like that—the more you hear them, the less obvious they feel.
So, we implemented it. At Distant Moon, we started approaching every conversation, every script, every production, and every edit with this core premise: We are guides helping our clients create beautiful films and storytelling. Our clients, in turn, are guides for their audiences, helping them achieve their own goals.


And a crazy thing happens when you put others first: They flourish. They succeed. And, paradoxically, their success brings you more success than if you had tried to be the hero.
For us, this shift didn’t just change how we tell stories – it changed the results. Projects became smoother, collaboration easier, and the stories we created became more resonant. We’ve seen nonprofit leaders light up when their mission comes alive on screen. Corporate clients rally their teams around a new vision. Audiences (real people) moved to action because they saw themselves as the heroes of their own stories.


And isn’t that what storytelling is about? It’s not about the director or the producer. It’s about the audience. It’s about meeting them where they are, showing them what’s possible, and inspiring them to take the next step in their journey.


So here’s my challenge to you: Step back. Look at the people you’re serving. Ask yourself, “Am I making this about me, or am I guiding them to where they need to go to maximize THEIR HEROIC JOURNEY?” When you embrace the role of guide, the impact you create can be far greater than anything you could achieve on your own.


At Distant Moon, this has become our heartbeat. The best stories aren’t about the storyteller—they’re about the lives transformed by the story itself. That’s what we mean when we talk about Human Flourishing. Welcome to the Human Flourishing Newsletter.


Toward Flourishing,
Ian Reid
Film Director / Founder of Distant Moon

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For over a decade, I (Ian) have lived in the weeds of film production – writing, producing, directing, editing, and stressing (a LOT) about every final product I was entrusted with. I’ve also fought the good fight against using em-dashes (If you follow Linked-in AI conversations, you get me. But thats neither here nor there) Back to being in the weeds. I mean, I’m an artist. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? If I’m not working harder, longer, and with more care, I’m not doing my job as a film director. Right?
But then burnout hit. And hit hard. I realized something had to change. I saw two paths forward:
Learn from entrepreneurs, artists, and business coaches how to build a company of excellence in a sustainable way, OR
Quit, leave the film industry, and find a “real job.”


(Spoiler alert) I chose option #1. That decision, made about five years ago, led me to discover that not only is sustainable growth possible while producing excellent work, but (shockingly) the systems and principles that make it sustainable actually lead to better work than the “burnout method”.


The last four years of business coaching and masterminds have yielded great insights, “oh duh, why aren’t we doing that?” reminders, and general encouragement that building anything of significance takes an equation that looks roughly like =((“insane amount of work” + “delegation” + “consistency”)* time)).


But this isn’t a post about burnout. And I can already hear my college lit professor telling me for the hundredth time “Get to the point.” So here’s the point: In all this learning, one principle rose to the surface and transformed everything about how I approach filmmaking and storytelling: “YOU ARE NOT THE HERO.”


In early 2023, a friend recommended the book Building a StoryBrand by Donald Miller. It promised to “clarify your message so your customers will listen.” Sounded good! 


Cue montage:
Ian opens Audible, clicks “use 1 credit,” binges the book at 2x speed, and can’t get enough. Donald Miller explains: “Audiences are the hero of their own lives. To connect with them, you have to be THE GUIDE, not the hero.” Mind blown. Ian immediately orders a hard copy. Smash cut to the next day: Amazon box ripped open, Ian highlighting every sentence (the book now glows yellow). Fast forward two months: an email invites Ian to join Don Miller’s inaugural Mastermind. Ian doesn’t know exactly why, but it must have something to do with the multi-step form he filled out at 1am that one night to get access to the “storybrand tools.” Ian runs downstairs and screams to his wife “DONALD MILLER’S TEAM INVITED ME TO A MASTERMIND.” Ian’s wife says, “who’s team?”

Smash cut to: Ian says yes to the mastermind, hops on a plane, and finds himself in a room full of intimidating (but shockingly friendly) entrepreneurs.

Okay, you get it. Through all of this, the idea “You are NOT the Hero. You are the GUIDE” kept coming up. And the more I heard it, the more it resonated. I think the most important truths are funny like that—the more you hear them, the less obvious they feel.
So, we implemented it. At Distant Moon, we started approaching every conversation, every script, every production, and every edit with this core premise: We are guides helping our clients create beautiful films and storytelling. Our clients, in turn, are guides for their audiences, helping them achieve their own goals.


And a crazy thing happens when you put others first: They flourish. They succeed. And, paradoxically, their success brings you more success than if you had tried to be the hero.
For us, this shift didn’t just change how we tell stories – it changed the results. Projects became smoother, collaboration easier, and the stories we created became more resonant. We’ve seen nonprofit leaders light up when their mission comes alive on screen. Corporate clients rally their teams around a new vision. Audiences (real people) moved to action because they saw themselves as the heroes of their own stories.


And isn’t that what storytelling is about? It’s not about the director or the producer. It’s about the audience. It’s about meeting them where they are, showing them what’s possible, and inspiring them to take the next step in their journey.


So here’s my challenge to you: Step back. Look at the people you’re serving. Ask yourself, “Am I making this about me, or am I guiding them to where they need to go to maximize THEIR HEROIC JOURNEY?” When you embrace the role of guide, the impact you create can be far greater than anything you could achieve on your own.


At Distant Moon, this has become our heartbeat. The best stories aren’t about the storyteller—they’re about the lives transformed by the story itself. That’s what we mean when we talk about Human Flourishing. Welcome to the Human Flourishing Newsletter.


Toward Flourishing,
Ian Reid
Film Director / Founder of Distant Moon

<p>The post The Most Important Principle We’ve Learned first appeared on Distant Moon.</p>

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Dream Bigger. Face Reality. Create Impact. https://distantmoon.com/character-development/dream-bigger-face-reality-create-impact/ https://distantmoon.com/character-development/dream-bigger-face-reality-create-impact/#respond Fri, 25 Jul 2025 15:10:36 +0000 https://distantmoon.com/?p=9890 This week, I read two incredible books by Steve Sims: Bluefishing and Go for Stupid. I also revisited Jon Tyson’s The Intentional Father for a study I’m doing with some close friends. Each of these books challenged me in different ways, and together, they created a week full of inspiration about dreaming boldly, embracing challenges, and living with intention. I was so pumped up by these books that I decided to share the top takeaways that inspired me by this week’s readings. I hope you find these insights (and the books they come from) as helpful as I have.

Book 1: Bluefishing

Key Idea: Why Not You?

Steve Sims built the world’s most exclusive concierge service by helping clients experience once-in-a-lifetime moments. But it all started with one simple belief:

“Why not us?”

Growing up in a family of bricklayers, Steve was constantly told, “That’s not for us. We don’t shop at those stores or eat at those restaurants.” But Steve refused to accept that. Fast forward to his career. A client asked him to get an album signed by the band Journey. Instead, Steve asked, “Why not go bigger?” He got that client on stage to sing a full set with the band.

Later, a client wanted a private dinner in Florence. Steve didn’t just book a fancy restaurant. He closed the Accademia Gallery, served a gourmet meal at the foot of Michelangelo’s David, and had Andrea Bocelli give a private concert, all with 48 hours’ notice.

When he asked the museum curator how this was possible, the answer was simple:

“You’re the first person who ever asked.”

Book 2: Go for Stupid

Key Idea: Stop Playing Small

Steve’s second book, Go for Stupid, flips goal-setting on its head. The big idea?

People aim too low.

Most of us set reasonable, attainable goals and then fall short. But if you set ridiculously ambitious, even “stupid” goals and fall short, you’ll still land far beyond where most people ever dream. This is something we’ve talked about for years at Distant Moon:

“Shoot for the moon, and even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.” (I know, cliche. But even the most cringey cliches can inspire.)

That’s why we’re not just building another media company. We’re working to create the most impactful media company of the 21st century by helping audiences wrestle with life’s deepest questions, learn more about the world, and understand their own humanity.

Book 3: The Intentional Father

Key Idea: Preparing the next Generation for Reality

In The Intentional Father, Jon Tyson reminds us that preparing the next generation for life means teaching them hard truths:

  1. Life is hard.
  2. You are not that important.
  3. Your life is not about you.
  4. You are not in control.
  5. You are going to die.

I found these truths incredibly freeing and encouraging. These realities build resilience, humility, and purpose. Furthermore, I think our society’s constant struggle with depression, discord, and loneliness can largely be linked to a collective failure to really believe that these truths apply to everyone. For instance, how many people secretly think they have it harder or that life is more difficult for us than some other more privileged party. One of the most freeing realizations in my life has been the realization that everyone experiences and must come to grips with the five principles above. And knowing you’re not alone in the struggle changes everything. 

Why This All Matters

When you put these lessons together, they paint a powerful picture:

  • Ask “Why Not?” Ask the questions others aren’t willing to ask. Ask for things others would be embarrassed to ask for.
  • Dream bigger. Why self-limit our dreams? This is what most people do. Let’s not join them.
  • Prepare for hardship. Build resilience for the journey. Live with purpose. Because life is too short to aim low.

But the deeper truth is this: Life is not about us. It’s about using our gifts, resources, and dreams to serve others and create a better world. When we dream bigger, we’re not just chasing success for ourselves. We’re creating space for curating incredible experiences for others, building impactful brands that change the world, and making a lasting difference for future generations. The most meaningful work happens when we stop asking, “What can I get?” and start asking, “How can I give?”

In the end, the greatest legacy isn’t what we accumulate, it’s what we give to our families, our communities, our world, and our Creator.

Here’s to Human Flourishing.

– Ian

]]>

This week, I read two incredible books by Steve Sims: Bluefishing and Go for Stupid. I also revisited Jon Tyson’s The Intentional Father for a study I’m doing with some close friends. Each of these books challenged me in different ways, and together, they created a week full of inspiration about dreaming boldly, embracing challenges, and living with intention. I was so pumped up by these books that I decided to share the top takeaways that inspired me by this week’s readings. I hope you find these insights (and the books they come from) as helpful as I have.

Book 1: Bluefishing

Key Idea: Why Not You?

Steve Sims built the world’s most exclusive concierge service by helping clients experience once-in-a-lifetime moments. But it all started with one simple belief:

“Why not us?”

Growing up in a family of bricklayers, Steve was constantly told, “That’s not for us. We don’t shop at those stores or eat at those restaurants.” But Steve refused to accept that. Fast forward to his career. A client asked him to get an album signed by the band Journey. Instead, Steve asked, “Why not go bigger?” He got that client on stage to sing a full set with the band.

Later, a client wanted a private dinner in Florence. Steve didn’t just book a fancy restaurant. He closed the Accademia Gallery, served a gourmet meal at the foot of Michelangelo’s David, and had Andrea Bocelli give a private concert, all with 48 hours’ notice.

When he asked the museum curator how this was possible, the answer was simple:

“You’re the first person who ever asked.”

Book 2: Go for Stupid

Key Idea: Stop Playing Small

Steve’s second book, Go for Stupid, flips goal-setting on its head. The big idea?

People aim too low.

Most of us set reasonable, attainable goals and then fall short. But if you set ridiculously ambitious, even “stupid” goals and fall short, you’ll still land far beyond where most people ever dream. This is something we’ve talked about for years at Distant Moon:

“Shoot for the moon, and even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.” (I know, cliche. But even the most cringey cliches can inspire.)

That’s why we’re not just building another media company. We’re working to create the most impactful media company of the 21st century by helping audiences wrestle with life’s deepest questions, learn more about the world, and understand their own humanity.

Book 3: The Intentional Father

Key Idea: Preparing the next Generation for Reality

In The Intentional Father, Jon Tyson reminds us that preparing the next generation for life means teaching them hard truths:

  1. Life is hard.
  2. You are not that important.
  3. Your life is not about you.
  4. You are not in control.
  5. You are going to die.

I found these truths incredibly freeing and encouraging. These realities build resilience, humility, and purpose. Furthermore, I think our society’s constant struggle with depression, discord, and loneliness can largely be linked to a collective failure to really believe that these truths apply to everyone. For instance, how many people secretly think they have it harder or that life is more difficult for us than some other more privileged party. One of the most freeing realizations in my life has been the realization that everyone experiences and must come to grips with the five principles above. And knowing you’re not alone in the struggle changes everything. 

Why This All Matters

When you put these lessons together, they paint a powerful picture:

  • Ask “Why Not?” Ask the questions others aren’t willing to ask. Ask for things others would be embarrassed to ask for.
  • Dream bigger. Why self-limit our dreams? This is what most people do. Let’s not join them.
  • Prepare for hardship. Build resilience for the journey. Live with purpose. Because life is too short to aim low.

But the deeper truth is this: Life is not about us. It’s about using our gifts, resources, and dreams to serve others and create a better world. When we dream bigger, we’re not just chasing success for ourselves. We’re creating space for curating incredible experiences for others, building impactful brands that change the world, and making a lasting difference for future generations. The most meaningful work happens when we stop asking, “What can I get?” and start asking, “How can I give?”

In the end, the greatest legacy isn’t what we accumulate, it’s what we give to our families, our communities, our world, and our Creator.

Here’s to Human Flourishing.

– Ian

<p>The post Dream Bigger. Face Reality. Create Impact. first appeared on Distant Moon.</p>

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Choose the Hard Path https://distantmoon.com/character-development/choose-the-hard-path/ https://distantmoon.com/character-development/choose-the-hard-path/#respond Fri, 25 Jul 2025 15:10:31 +0000 https://distantmoon.com/?p=9868 Ok so last weekend Yetta and I took the boys on a 20-mile backpacking trip up a portion of the Appalachian Trail. Backpacking. Not hiking.

There’s a difference. IYKYK.

For those who don’t, hiking is a lighthearted jaunt through the wilderness unencumbered, typically, by anything more than a day pack. Backpacking is shouldering 35–55 pounds of gear (tent, sleeping bags, food, water filters, first aid, stove, headlamps, socks, hope, and the kitchen sink) for days at a time. Suffice it to say, the two activities are different and this week I discovered all too well the great divide between those day hikers and those who’ve actually gone backpacking.

The day hiker’s response: “Oh 20 miles? That’s a nice little hike.” or “Thats good that you started the boys off on a small hike.” or my favorite, “Eh. I could do that.”

The backpacker’s response: “How many days did you do it in?” “Man, that’s a good distance.” “How heavy was your pack?” or “You took a four year old on a 20-mile backpacking trip??”

(Oh yeah, our four-year-old Wes did the trip and walked/hiked/climbed/crawled nearly the entire 20 miles in two days. So did our six-, eight-, and ten-year-olds. More on that in a moment.)

Why so much focus on the difference between the two responses? Because it drew into sharp relief something I’ve been thinking about lately: The struggles others experience seem weightless if you haven’t walked in their shoes or carried a pack of similar weight.

And I’ll be honest, a 20-mile backpacking trip with four little boys felt almost insurmountable at times. (My hyperbolic tendencies encouraged me to write that we almost died. But as the discerning reader will have gathered by this point, this is a mostly-reputable writing endeavor. Only the facts ma’am!) 

There were times that Yetta or I were literally carrying boys (ok, fine, mostly Yetta). There were times Yetta and I were carrying multiple kids’ backpacks (ok, fine, mostly Yetta). There were times that we felt we couldn’t go another step further (ok, fine, mostly Wes and me after mile 13 on day 2). There was the time the boys found themselves uncomfortably close to a rattlesnake nest. There was the time that we got completely drenched in a 2-hour long torrential downpour and lightning storm. There was the time that our water filter broke halfway through day 2, and we essentially had to decide whether to camp on the night of day 2 or push through an extra 3.5 miles to finish the trip that night. (We chose the latter option, reasoning that the temporary pain of pushing past exhaustion probably outweighed potential dehydration the next day.)

Let’s just say, backpacking is often filled with difficulty and a manageable amount of risk. I’m sure there’s some tie-in to that famous Robert Frost poem somewhere around here about two roads diverging in the woods and taking the one less travelled. But I digress.

Was this backpacking trip all hard and uncomfortable? No! In fact in a debrief afterwards, I calculated with Yetta that perhaps 80% of the time was enjoying the beauty of nature, falling into the peaceful rhythm of the footfalls (punctuated by the boy’s chatter), and coming across peaceful glades and inspiring vistas of the valley that our portion of the Appalachians overlooked.

But the beauty did not negate the difficulty. And the difficulty did not negate the beauty. They coexisted and brought each other into sharper relief.

And there WAS difficulty. It was hard. So hard that I actually passed out from dehydration about a tenth of a mile from the end of our journey in Harpers Ferry. But, we’re glad we did it. And here’s why: Because we wanted the difficulty. We wanted to be stretched.

A couple years ago, we read the book The Comfort Crisis. (You might remember that I mentioned this a few weeks ago in another newsletter.) In it, Michael Easter explains how modern society, with all its conveniences and systems, has removed discomfort. And the comfort we now take for granted is slowly killing us.

We’ve eliminated most of the physical hardship our ancestors faced. And it turns out that the more comfortable a society gets, the higher that almost every category of social ill skyrockets. Depression. Substance Abuse. Suicide. Violence. Unrest. You name it.

In short: We traded one kind of hard for another. 

Paradoxically, the easier life becomes in one category (think physically, natural needs being met, basic health and safety, etc.) the harder life becomes in other categories (mental health, social health, etc.).

And as I’ve thought about this, an idea has emerged. As human beings, we have an opportunity to “choose the hard we want for our lives.” More simply, I’ve come to merely say, “We choose our hard.”

I’d take it a step further and say that every person already does choose which hard they want. They just might not realize it.

I can hear your objections: “Don’t be daft! Many people are handed difficulties and circumstances outside of their control! They didn’t choose their pain!” First of all, does anyone actually use the word “daft” any more? Please, modernize your language. But, now that I’m done strawmanning you (and tossing out ad-hominems), I’d say, this: “Yes. People are OFTEN handed bum hands.”

Think of the homeless. Think of the impoverished. Think of minorities who face discrimination. Think of people with health issues or diseases. I could write a book about the difficult circumstances a given person might be born into. But I could also write a book about the countless people who have also been born into those exact circumstances and who pulled themselves out of it through grit, determination, and hard work.

We recently produced a documentary series on people who did just that with our friends at AEI. People who were sexually abused. People who were born via rape. People who were marginalized and oppressed. They didn’t accept their hardship as a life sentence. They chose a new kind of hard: grit, determination, and hard work. And in doing so, they gained something powerful: agency.

If they had accepted their life situation as unchangeable and limiting, they would have had hard lives. But, they didn’t regard their difficult origins as the launch of an unchangeable trajectory.. They took a stand, pursued improvement, chose hard work and…they still had hard lives.

And that’s the key. All paths are hard. Yet, with the path of “chosen difficulty” we gain something we wouldn’t have had in our alternate life paths – a sense of agency, a sense of being a master of our own destinies (or at least a co-creator/partaker in the thrill of changing our destinies).

My dear friends Alex and Brett Harris (yes, twins) became famous in their teens almost 20 years ago for a book they wrote called Do Hard Things. The premise was simple: Teens don’t want to live in a world of low-expectations. Teens want more. They were built for challenge. The idea caught on like wildfire, spawning a nationwide movement called “the Rebelution” that lasted over a decade. The reason their ideas resonated is because that desire for challenge and agency is built into every human heart.

And here’s where this story comes full circle for all of us who tell stories or try to communicate to supporters, clients, or other human beings (if you don’t fall into any of those categories, this newsletter might not be for you). We all ought to be asking ourselves two simple questions:

1. Are you communicating with others in a way that appeals to their desire for meaning, and…
2. Are you inspiring them to choose the better kind of hard?

Those two questions have come to animate everything the Distant Moon team and I try to undertake over the last few years. And the result? We aren’t merely inspiring our audiences to pursue the “hard path” that leads to human flourishing and avoid the “hard path” that leads to continued frustration and stagnation. We’re also reinforcing and re-learning for ourselves each day that the chosen “hard path” is always preferable to the “hard path” we receive from circumstance. Oh, and remember that ham-fisted reference to Robert Frost earlier?

“That has made all the difference.”

Want to Listen Instead of Read These Newsletters?

Several weeks ago, I was talking with a good friend who suggested, “Ian. A lot of people would like what you write in your newsletter, but don’t want to take the time to read it.” Then someone else chimed in, “oh, yeah, I’d love to listen to this newsletter as a podcast.” And I agreed with their assessment. So, I’ve started recording these newsletters as podcasts. Every newsletter will include the link to a podcast form of the previous newsletter. So without further ado, I present, the inaugural episode of the Human Flourishing Newsletter Podcast. (Gosh, that’s a cumbersome name.)

Spotify Link: LISTEN HERE
Youtube Link: WATCH HERE

Human Flourishing

Project Spotlight: The White House Story of America

I have shared a few videos for the collaboration we’ve been producing for the White House and Hillsdale College over the last few months. But I haven’t shared the context. We’re working with both parties to produce a series of dozens of short videos on America’s most important events and dates related to the Revolutionary War. The series will culminate next July for the 250th Anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. But we’ll be producing many videos between now and then.

We just released a video about the 250th anniversary of the Battle of Bunker Hill. And later this week, we release a video about the Declaration’s meaning and purpose (this 4th of July is the 249th anniversary of its signing). Stay tuned for more updates over the coming months!

ALSO, if you’re one of my many friends who might wonder “How can Ian work on something with THAT administration?!” Check out my Linkedin post about this very topic. We live in contentious times, but if we can all add a bit more truth, beauty, and goodness into the world, I’m all for trying to help make that happen!

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Ian Reid - Choose the Hard Path

Ok so last weekend Yetta and I took the boys on a 20-mile backpacking trip up a portion of the Appalachian Trail. Backpacking. Not hiking.

There’s a difference. IYKYK.

For those who don’t, hiking is a lighthearted jaunt through the wilderness unencumbered, typically, by anything more than a day pack. Backpacking is shouldering 35–55 pounds of gear (tent, sleeping bags, food, water filters, first aid, stove, headlamps, socks, hope, and the kitchen sink) for days at a time. Suffice it to say, the two activities are different and this week I discovered all too well the great divide between those day hikers and those who’ve actually gone backpacking.

The day hiker’s response: “Oh 20 miles? That’s a nice little hike.” or “Thats good that you started the boys off on a small hike.” or my favorite, “Eh. I could do that.”

The backpacker’s response: “How many days did you do it in?” “Man, that’s a good distance.” “How heavy was your pack?” or “You took a four year old on a 20-mile backpacking trip??”

(Oh yeah, our four-year-old Wes did the trip and walked/hiked/climbed/crawled nearly the entire 20 miles in two days. So did our six-, eight-, and ten-year-olds. More on that in a moment.)

Why so much focus on the difference between the two responses? Because it drew into sharp relief something I’ve been thinking about lately: The struggles others experience seem weightless if you haven’t walked in their shoes or carried a pack of similar weight.

And I’ll be honest, a 20-mile backpacking trip with four little boys felt almost insurmountable at times. (My hyperbolic tendencies encouraged me to write that we almost died. But as the discerning reader will have gathered by this point, this is a mostly-reputable writing endeavor. Only the facts ma’am!) 

There were times that Yetta or I were literally carrying boys (ok, fine, mostly Yetta). There were times Yetta and I were carrying multiple kids’ backpacks (ok, fine, mostly Yetta). There were times that we felt we couldn’t go another step further (ok, fine, mostly Wes and me after mile 13 on day 2). There was the time the boys found themselves uncomfortably close to a rattlesnake nest. There was the time that we got completely drenched in a 2-hour long torrential downpour and lightning storm. There was the time that our water filter broke halfway through day 2, and we essentially had to decide whether to camp on the night of day 2 or push through an extra 3.5 miles to finish the trip that night. (We chose the latter option, reasoning that the temporary pain of pushing past exhaustion probably outweighed potential dehydration the next day.)

Let’s just say, backpacking is often filled with difficulty and a manageable amount of risk. I’m sure there’s some tie-in to that famous Robert Frost poem somewhere around here about two roads diverging in the woods and taking the one less travelled. But I digress.

Was this backpacking trip all hard and uncomfortable? No! In fact in a debrief afterwards, I calculated with Yetta that perhaps 80% of the time was enjoying the beauty of nature, falling into the peaceful rhythm of the footfalls (punctuated by the boy’s chatter), and coming across peaceful glades and inspiring vistas of the valley that our portion of the Appalachians overlooked.

But the beauty did not negate the difficulty. And the difficulty did not negate the beauty. They coexisted and brought each other into sharper relief.

And there WAS difficulty. It was hard. So hard that I actually passed out from dehydration about a tenth of a mile from the end of our journey in Harpers Ferry. But, we’re glad we did it. And here’s why: Because we wanted the difficulty. We wanted to be stretched.

A couple years ago, we read the book The Comfort Crisis. (You might remember that I mentioned this a few weeks ago in another newsletter.) In it, Michael Easter explains how modern society, with all its conveniences and systems, has removed discomfort. And the comfort we now take for granted is slowly killing us.

We’ve eliminated most of the physical hardship our ancestors faced. And it turns out that the more comfortable a society gets, the higher that almost every category of social ill skyrockets. Depression. Substance Abuse. Suicide. Violence. Unrest. You name it.

In short: We traded one kind of hard for another. 

Paradoxically, the easier life becomes in one category (think physically, natural needs being met, basic health and safety, etc.) the harder life becomes in other categories (mental health, social health, etc.).

And as I’ve thought about this, an idea has emerged. As human beings, we have an opportunity to “choose the hard we want for our lives.” More simply, I’ve come to merely say, “We choose our hard.”

I’d take it a step further and say that every person already does choose which hard they want. They just might not realize it.

I can hear your objections: “Don’t be daft! Many people are handed difficulties and circumstances outside of their control! They didn’t choose their pain!” First of all, does anyone actually use the word “daft” any more? Please, modernize your language. But, now that I’m done strawmanning you (and tossing out ad-hominems), I’d say, this: “Yes. People are OFTEN handed bum hands.”

Think of the homeless. Think of the impoverished. Think of minorities who face discrimination. Think of people with health issues or diseases. I could write a book about the difficult circumstances a given person might be born into. But I could also write a book about the countless people who have also been born into those exact circumstances and who pulled themselves out of it through grit, determination, and hard work.

We recently produced a documentary series on people who did just that with our friends at AEI. People who were sexually abused. People who were born via rape. People who were marginalized and oppressed. They didn’t accept their hardship as a life sentence. They chose a new kind of hard: grit, determination, and hard work. And in doing so, they gained something powerful: agency.

If they had accepted their life situation as unchangeable and limiting, they would have had hard lives. But, they didn’t regard their difficult origins as the launch of an unchangeable trajectory.. They took a stand, pursued improvement, chose hard work and…they still had hard lives.

And that’s the key. All paths are hard. Yet, with the path of “chosen difficulty” we gain something we wouldn’t have had in our alternate life paths – a sense of agency, a sense of being a master of our own destinies (or at least a co-creator/partaker in the thrill of changing our destinies).

My dear friends Alex and Brett Harris (yes, twins) became famous in their teens almost 20 years ago for a book they wrote called Do Hard Things. The premise was simple: Teens don’t want to live in a world of low-expectations. Teens want more. They were built for challenge. The idea caught on like wildfire, spawning a nationwide movement called “the Rebelution” that lasted over a decade. The reason their ideas resonated is because that desire for challenge and agency is built into every human heart.

And here’s where this story comes full circle for all of us who tell stories or try to communicate to supporters, clients, or other human beings (if you don’t fall into any of those categories, this newsletter might not be for you). We all ought to be asking ourselves two simple questions:

1. Are you communicating with others in a way that appeals to their desire for meaning, and…
2. Are you inspiring them to choose the better kind of hard?

Those two questions have come to animate everything the Distant Moon team and I try to undertake over the last few years. And the result? We aren’t merely inspiring our audiences to pursue the “hard path” that leads to human flourishing and avoid the “hard path” that leads to continued frustration and stagnation. We’re also reinforcing and re-learning for ourselves each day that the chosen “hard path” is always preferable to the “hard path” we receive from circumstance. Oh, and remember that ham-fisted reference to Robert Frost earlier?

“That has made all the difference.”

Want to Listen Instead of Read These Newsletters?

Several weeks ago, I was talking with a good friend who suggested, “Ian. A lot of people would like what you write in your newsletter, but don’t want to take the time to read it.” Then someone else chimed in, “oh, yeah, I’d love to listen to this newsletter as a podcast.” And I agreed with their assessment. So, I’ve started recording these newsletters as podcasts. Every newsletter will include the link to a podcast form of the previous newsletter. So without further ado, I present, the inaugural episode of the Human Flourishing Newsletter Podcast. (Gosh, that’s a cumbersome name.)

Spotify Link: LISTEN HERE
Youtube Link: WATCH HERE

Human Flourishing

Project Spotlight: The White House Story of America

I have shared a few videos for the collaboration we’ve been producing for the White House and Hillsdale College over the last few months. But I haven’t shared the context. We’re working with both parties to produce a series of dozens of short videos on America’s most important events and dates related to the Revolutionary War. The series will culminate next July for the 250th Anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. But we’ll be producing many videos between now and then.

We just released a video about the 250th anniversary of the Battle of Bunker Hill. And later this week, we release a video about the Declaration’s meaning and purpose (this 4th of July is the 249th anniversary of its signing). Stay tuned for more updates over the coming months!

ALSO, if you’re one of my many friends who might wonder “How can Ian work on something with THAT administration?!” Check out my Linkedin post about this very topic. We live in contentious times, but if we can all add a bit more truth, beauty, and goodness into the world, I’m all for trying to help make that happen!

<p>The post Choose the Hard Path first appeared on Distant Moon.</p>

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