When I was young, barely in elementary school, my dad was in the early days of owning his mechanical parts business.
He owned a Willy’s Jeep, a Willy’s Jeep with a very temperamental transmission. He and my brother would pull the transmission and rebuild it, pull it and rebuild it, pull it and rebuilt it again.
I used to watch my dad crawl under the jeep, and as my brother would loosen the bolts, my dad would lower the transmission down onto his chest. He then would slide out from the jeep and roll the transmission onto an old grease stained wooden tray.
Now my dad was a strong man. He could lower the transmission from an old jeep. And by the way, he would raise the transmission back into place the same way he got it out. But his strength went beyond lifting transmissions and repairing the Willy's Jeep.
Times were very tight in those days. My dad didn’t spring for a different car, a mechanic, or for a hydraulic jack to lower and raise the transmission for that matter. Every extra penny went to building his business.
He worked hard. Real hard.
His work ethics were top shelf – bar none. He built a solid business, more than one actually, and he provided for his family.
Thriving on the work, maintaining resilience, and having an impact on those around him were his trademarks. But the one thing that was missing the whole time was a long-term partner to help him prepare for and transition through life's obstacles.
This is why I do what I do. I form long-term relationships with people like my dad so they do not have go it alone. This way, they can consciously pursue their own sense of purpose and attain peace of mind.