The course of our lives was altered a few years ago around noon on a Tuesday, or possibly, a Wednesday. 

We passed by a grime-covered construction worker manning a full-sized gas grill in the bed of his pickup flipping fat burgers to his crew below. We caught his eye and nodded. “Nice.” In response, he grinned, wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, and offered us three thousand years of wisdom packed into three little words.

“Why f*** around?”

Those words struck like a lightening bolt. A priceless nugget of pure, unpolished truth disguised as an offhanded comment. Sage, honest, simple, extraordinary. That’s some Dalai Lama level philosophizing right there, buddy.

Why f*** around?

If you’re not thinking it, you should be. If you’re offended, you’re missing the point. Life is too short to mince words. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. So, how we choose to spend this moment right here matters.

Why f*** around, indeed.

In life and in work, all you control are your own decisions. Be a good person, stay humble, do the right thing, seek out and work with other good people, welcome new ideas, challenge your own assumptions? Yes. But spend your precious little non-guaranteed time on Earth engaged in pursuits you know in your gut to be empty, wasteful, joyless? Nope. No longer. 

You may ask, “Why play with fire? Such language! Why risk your livelihoods when you could just play nice?” In return, we respond: we are nice, just ask anyone who really knows us—our clients, coworkers, partners, kids, dogs—but let us ask you something…

Why f*** around?