The Here and Now Traveler

It’s 6:30 in the morning, and the sun hasn’t risen yet.

As I drive toward downtown Weatherford, Texas, I’m struck by how much light there is. Headlights. Streetlights. Store signs. Lights spilling out of businesses. The town seems almost brighter than it should be at this hour.

I’m on my way to Ironworks Coffee with a simple plan: get a cup of coffee, sit down, write, and then explore downtown Weatherford. That’s it.

Sometimes you don’t need to know exactly where you’re going. You just need to start moving.

Inside Ironworks, I notice their motto: “Iron sharpens iron,” from Proverbs 27:17. I’ve heard the verse many times, but this morning it catches me differently.

What does it really mean to be sharpened? And why would we want to be?

Sharpening requires friction. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts. Yet we still seek it because, at some deeper level, we know that staying exactly as we are isn’t enough. We want greater clarity. We want wisdom. We want to understand our purpose and our place in the bigger picture.

Maybe that is what the verse is really getting at. We need other people to challenge us, question us, encourage us, and sometimes even make us uncomfortable. Not so we can prove that we are right or become better than someone else, but so that we can become better versions of ourselves.

I know something about that kind of refinement.

When I lost my job, in 2020, I realized how much of my identity had been built around being a professional, a banker. When that identity was taken away, I was left with a much more fundamental question: Who am I outside the context of being a banker?

That question started me on a journey of deconstruction. I began breaking things down and examining why I was doing what I was doing, what I valued, how I spent my time, and what I actually wanted from life.

One of the biggest things I discovered was the difference between happiness and joy.

Happiness often comes from things and circumstances. We’re happy when something good happens, when we accomplish something, when we get something we want, or when life is going the way we hoped.

Joy is different.

Joy can exist even when we aren’t happy. It is deeper than a passing emotion or a favorable circumstance. It is something more intrinsic—something that can remain even when life is difficult. In that sense, joy feels less like something we acquire and more like something we discover within ourselves.

And the more I have thought about that, the more I have realized that many of the things that bring the greatest joy into my life are intangible. They aren’t things I can buy or put on a balance sheet. They are experiences. Conversations. Relationships. A sunrise. A quiet cup of coffee. A walk through a town I’ve never really stopped to notice.

That realization has made me much more intentional.

I want to be thoughtful about the people around me, the things I choose to do, and the time I spend. I want those choices to have the greatest possible value—not necessarily financially, professionally, or materially, but in the ways that actually matter.

And perhaps that brings me back to iron sharpening iron.

Maybe becoming wiser and stronger isn’t really about becoming harder. Maybe it is about becoming clearer.

Clearing away the things that no longer define us. Letting go of identities that were built around titles, possessions, accomplishments, and expectations. Allowing experiences and relationships to shape us. Being willing to experience the friction that comes with growth.

And then, perhaps, seeing the world a little differently.

As I finish my coffee, I’m going to walk outside and explore downtown Weatherford. The sun is beginning to rise.

I didn’t plan that symbolism.

But maybe that’s another lesson in being present: sometimes the best moments are the ones you didn’t plan for.

The day is beginning.

And so is the journey.