Alex Hoffer

The nature of my personality is such that I often write these blog posts several weeks, or in this case, almost two months in advance. This is because I like to build in slack for vacations, holidays, and rest. I share this at the outset of today’s post because my thoughts currently are on the (now) recent tragic shootings in Buffalo, New York, and Uvalde, Texas.

One of the things that have struck me this past week is how quickly leaders have jumped to potential solutions for how we have gotten to where we are. What follows are not solutions but a potential path forward for leaders to think about and care for those they lead. 

Be Silent

As a refresher, I believe leadership is the process of doing things with and through other people. This requires influence. Used positively, influence makes someone worth following. Without followers, you are not a leader. 

One concern I have about political leadership is that we don’t allow folks time to think before they speak. Instead, we expect them to make immediate statements — and they are often reactionary and emotional, occasionally harmful, and usually divisive. 

As counterintuitive as this may sound, silence allows one to process. Deep thinking is power. From a political leadership standpoint, it is socially unacceptable to be silent in a 24/7 news cycle. But this is one of the reasons our words are so weak and un-transformational.  

Silence allows us to consider the gravity of what has happened. It forces us to think past simplistic solutions. It forces us to deal with grief, lamentation, and sadness. It forces us to be human in the truest sense of the word. 

Leaders, if we are to positively influence and work with others who see the world differently than we do, we must approach situations from the depths that only silence can provide. Only by taking a moment to be silent can we get in touch with what is happening inside us. Only silence can introduce us to what we think, feel, or believe. 

Repent

I am tempted to use a different word here because “repent” might be viewed negatively given its religious connotations, but no better word applies. 

Repent simply means to turn around. In the Christian sense, it means that we are walking in the wrong direction, so it is time to turn around and walk towards Christ. 

Please hear me when I say I am walking in the wrong direction. 

This is not some attempt to “humble brag” but a true confession, an admission that I am walking in the wrong direction. In a world this divisive, this violent, this tragic? I ask for forgiveness for every useless, angry, and prideful thing I have said. Forgive me for what I have failed to do out of convenience to myself. Forgive me for how I failed to lead, and worse, failed to love. 

I realize that I have a long way to go. And I desperately need my Savior. Any conversation about “where do we go from here” has to start with the knowledge that I am part of the problem. Anything that points to “them,” “that group,” or “those people” is not going to change anything. The only person I can change, with God’s help, is myself. 

Live Life

Jesus said he came to give us life, life to the full (John 10:10). 

Jesus also said that in this world there would be trouble (John 16:33). 

If you know anything about Jesus, you know that he was arrested, beaten, and crucified. God’s perfect son faced humanity’s wrath and alienation from his Father. 

I point the above out because when tragic events happen, some doubt the goodness of God. This is fair. In fact, if that is you, I would invite you to read deeply of his Word and seek what God’s Word (not commentators, pastors, or anyone else for that matter, especially me!) has to say about suffering, sin, and love. I am not here to proselytize, only share. To that end, and only that end, I have discovered that Jesus’ words above are the Truth. 

Given the Truth that I follow, I mourn with those who mourn and rejoice with those who rejoice. Last week I drove 90 minutes to the city to attend a wake for one of our team members who lost their father. The next day, I celebrated another team member at their retirement party, thanking them for their 30+ years of service. This duality is life. 

This world is full of trouble and grief. It is also full of laughter, love, and joy. In the middle, we (at Hoffer Plastics) are to do meaningful work by manufacturing plastic parts that contribute to the livelihoods of millions. All this is life. 

To this end, I will close with a gentle admonition. To be someone worth following, we have to be the kind of people who unite rather than those who divide. To this end, I put forth what I have mentioned above. 

“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8). 

We cannot give what we do not possess. 

I am loved greatly because I have sinned greatly. 

I am part of the problem. 

When I love others, I am part of the solution. 

Thanks be to God for his love that allows me to love. 

Every June, there are thousands of high school commencement speeches offering advice to new graduates. And during this time of year, I often think about what I might say if asked to speak. Over time, I’ve found that this exercise is an excellent way to regain my perspective on what matters most. 

Before sharing my ten “advice I’d give today’s high school seniors” bullet points, I challenge you: Think about what you would say. What advice would you give? What matters most to you? 

And now, with no further ado, here are the bullet points I developed for this year’s imaginary commencement speech. To the class of 2022, here’s what I think you should know: 

1. Connect with people IN PERSON. While an online connection is better than no connection, IN PERSON connection is best for relationships. When I think about the loved ones I miss, I don’t think about our phone conversations. I miss their eyes, their touch, and their hugs.
   
2. Spend time thinking every day. This may sound odd to a generation known for their ubiquitous earbuds! But spend some time in your own mind — shave without a podcast on, drive in silence, or just sit at your desk and think. We live in a reactionary society. Thinking forces you to slow down, plan, and be proactive.
   
3. Seek out wisdom. In my twenties, the best thing I did was have coffee with people further down life’s road than I was. I asked questions, listened, and thought about what they told me during my times of reflection. Do the same.
   
4. Realize that the “harder” path is almost always the path with the higher upside. The harder path may not feel good — in fact, “this feels good” is a good sign that you are NOT going the right way.
   
5. Understand that “happiness” evolves. What made me happy at 20 was not what made me happy at 40. I’ve found “meaning” and “purpose” to be better guides to personal fulfillment. Doing work that matters may require taking the hard road, but in the end, it will bring satisfaction. This will produce more profound happiness.
   
6. Write down what you learn while you are on the journey. I kept a journal in college. I poured my soul out about 9/11, what I should do with my life, and even the kind of person I wanted to marry. Now I keep an Evernote about what I am learning, write in a planner about each week, and still journal. All of this helps me improve myself.
   
7. Be financially responsible. Financial strength tends to come from two practices — avoiding unnecessary debt and using compounding interest to your advantage. With that in mind, it’s worth cultivating something else that will help financially and in every aspect of your life: patience.
   
8. Recognize that everyone is gifted to some degree. It is the maximizing of one’s giftedness that separates the great from the mediocre. This takes hard work and discipline.
   
9. In the long run, consistent good work tends to beat out occasional great work. Keep at it.
   
10. Understand your sphere. In a world of increasing divisiveness, it is best to not waste influence over the things you cannot truly influence.
    
11. And a final bonus: Love wholeheartedly. You will never regret hugging your loved ones, telling them you love them, and ensuring those relationships are on solid ground. There is no tax heavier, more painful, or more extreme, than regret. Avoiding this tax has, so far, been one of the major accomplishments of my life. 

The list above is by no means exhaustive, but I hope it makes you think. And I hope that thinking leads you down a path of meaning and doing things worth doing. Potentially, even a harder path. But one that leads to real life and with real people. 

A life worth living. 

Do you remember counting down the number of days to the end of the school year? I will never forget the magical “last days of school” before summer. There were picnics, parties, and games, culminating in a tremendous last-day sendoff. 

And then? 

The most indescribable feeling of joy: Swimming pools, whiffle ball games, hot dogs, and baseball games. The next day more of the same. It never got old. 

But as an adult, the start of the summer looks and feels different. While there still may be a vacation to look forward to — or maybe some activities with the kids or a few rounds of golf — things are still different. Work does not stop, nor does it get easier. And just like at the end of the school year, fatigue is high. In fact, if I am not careful, I find myself only getting more tired during the summer.  

The Wisdom of My Grandparents

We logically know that “endless play” is not an option. So how do we recreate the joy of summer right where we are, regardless of our circumstances? 

While there are many potential answers to this question, one thing I have been thinking about lately is my family lineage. Specifically, what activities did my grandparents partake in to keep their energy high? What were their daily rhythms? And were they helpful in light of rediscovering energy?

My mom’s mom (we called her “JJ”) was legendary for embracing community. A card shark, golfer, and someone who wanted to be wherever the party was, JJ leaned on her Evansville, Indiana, community. Visiting her on summer vacations are memories I will cherish forever because they were always active and fun. In fact, sometimes Papa and I would go to lunch and a movie just so the two of us could get some rest!  JJ showed me that while community might be the last thing we want when we’re tired, it may also be the most important thing we find.  

My Grandpa Rue — “Papa” — was a World War II veteran who loved being outside. He planted, gardened, and worked the land. Meanwhile, my Grandpa Hoffer would work all day and then come home and spend time outdoors — he had a green thumb that still is talked about today. The point is that being outside reenergized both of my grandfathers. There is wisdom here!  

Grandpa Hoffer also liked to jog. I recently ran across an article published around his seventieth birthday, and it recounted the thousands of miles he had jogged with friends in the community. This is the trifecta of restoration: exercise, community, and nature — being outside in this case. There is wisdom here as well. 

Meanwhile, Grandpa Hoffer never stopped working because he had so much fun with it. He must have understood that work is what you make of it. And he made it something meaningful to himself and countless others. I still think about that when I walk our floor, as he modeled, and make connections with our team members on the floor. It is a community at work!  

Restoration Doesn’t Happen by Accident

My family’s history may or may not be helpful to you. I am sharing it, however, to demonstrate that restoration does not happen by accident. You must be intentional about it. Establishing rhythms around community, hobbies, exercise, and the like will positively restore your energy. And with your energy restored, your leadership tank will be full to give to those you lead. 

Remember, you cannot give what you do not possess. You cannot provide affirmation, creativity, or anything else when your tank is empty, and you are in survival mode. To effectively lead, you must prioritize restoration. You have to refill your tank.  

What restores you? Find it, and make it a priority. How will you be able to tell when you’ve found something that fills your tank? You’ll know you are on to something when, like the long summer days of yesteryear, your heart skips a beat, and you wish the moment you are experiencing would never have to end. 

On a recent Friday morning, I was finishing up my gym routine when my phone buzzed. “I know this is a long shot,” read the text, “but any chance you could join me for golf this a.m.?” It was from one of my high school golf teammates from over twenty years ago. 

I looked at my calendar. I had my regular Friday meetings locked into place, but two of those meetings were with direct reports who were on vacation. So I momentarily considered my friend’s offer before planning to decline — as I do for almost all impromptu opportunities that fall on work days. 

Then something dawned on me that might sound crazy. Two nights previously, I talked with my wife about how I was in a rut — how I needed time away from the office and how I needed to be with a friend. I even prayed that an opportunity with a friend would come. 

Looking one more time at my calendar, I said to myself, “What the heck.” 

“I’m in,” I texted back. 

Letting Go and Leaning In

Two hours later, I hit a crisp 2-iron down the middle of the first fairway, and we were off. 

I relaxed. 

When I hit a bad shot, I was kind to myself rather than crushing myself. Because of this, I even made three birdies over eighteen holes. 

More importantly, I rediscovered a friendship that goes back to the early 1980s. And for the first time in several weeks, I spent an extended period of time NOT thinking about work, my stress, and all the challenges that have increased my stress. 

Interrupting my typical “Friday plan” for fun literally reduced my cortisol. By the back nine, I could feel the difference in my body. My steps were lighter. The consistent headache that often plagues me was even gone. I went home in a state of mind that blessed my family upon arrival rather than aggravating them. 

Why I don’t do this more often, I wondered? 

Type A+

My wife likes to call me “Type A-plus,” given how disciplined and even programmatic I am. I have a plan, and I work that plan. At its best, it helps propel me to positive results. But at its worst, it can feel like a self-induced joyless prison. 

And getting back to the question of why I do not do this more often? Because fun — especially spontaneous fun — is usually not part of the plan. 

This is wrong. 

Hear my confession in that last statement. I need to put fun back into my plan — especially the kind of fun that involves personal relationships. After all, nobody wants to follow a joyless, stressed-out leader sitting in the confines of a prison cell of their own creation. 

Golfing with my buddy was one of the best, and yet, most humbling, experiences in quite some time. I discovered that I need to do a better job of leading someone very important: myself. 

Permission Granted

I share this experience because I know there’s someone else out there who also needs permission to have fun. 

To some, that might sound crazy. But I’m willing to bet that to others, it’s exactly what they need to hear. 

It was just what I needed.