The Ex4mined L1fe

I remember when I first started using GPS to get from point A to point B. Back in the early days of navigation systems, GPS was not nearly as friendly as it is today. The voice sounded slightly irritated, like it had some where better to be, and I was personally ruining its day. “Turn left in 500 feet.” I’d miss the turn. “Turn left now.” I’d panic and turn into a gas station instead. Then came the most judgmental phrase ever spoken by a machine:  “Recalculating… recalculating… recalculating!” It felt less like directions and more like disappointment. Honestly, I was pretty sure the GPS was thinking, “This guy should not be allowed to drive.”  But here’s the thing about GPS. It never quit. It didn’t say, “Wrong turn detected. I’m done working with you.” “Clearly, you are incapable of reaching your destination.” “Pull over and give up on life.” No. It simply recalculated and found a new path to the same destination.  GPS Has More Grace Than Most People. Thin...

Imagine spending 85 years and millions of dollars just to prove your grandma right. That’s basically what Harvard did. They spent over eight decades tracking hundreds of people—monitoring their careers, marriages, health, stress levels, and probably how many times they swore they’d finally get their lives together "next Monday." The goal? Figuring out what actually makes a good life.  After literal lifetimes of data collection, Harvard came to a massive, groundbreaking conclusion about what makes us happiest. It’s not the bag: It's not your bank account, your investment portfolio, or landing that six-figure post-grad job. It’s not the clout: It’s not your follower count, your aesthetic, or going viral. It’s not the grind: It’s not securing the corner office. It’s relationships . Close friends, a solid partner, family bonds, and a sense of community. Those are the actual cheat codes to health, longevity, and life satisfaction. Loneliness, on the other hand, is literally...

Opening Day has become a big production these days — television coverage, ceremonies, hype, social media countdowns, and enough hoopla to make it feel like a national holiday. But when I think about Opening Day, my mind doesn’t go to the noise and spectacle. It goes back to a chilly afternoon in 1973 at Royals Stadium. I was there. Opening Day at Royals Stadium. Box seats. Kansas City Royals baseball. And a memory that still feels warm, even though the day itself was anything but. I went with my friend Tim Flavin. The Flavin family was always very good to the Sturgills during some tough spells in life, and that kindness is something you never forget. It wasn’t just a baseball game — it was an act of generosity and friendship that stuck with me over the years. My grandparents, John and Irene Medellin, pulled Tim and me out of school early that day so we would have plenty of time to “properly prepare” for Opening Day. And by preparation, they meant doing it the right way — getting there ...

Many of us are driven by analytics and danger signals these days. We measure everything — performance, productivity, growth, decline, risk, and trends. Numbers matter. Data matters. Outcomes matter. And when we look at measurable outcomes worldwide, a difficult reality begins to emerge: the United States is no longer the uncontested leader in every measurable category. Before anyone jumps to conclusions, let me say something clearly. I love my country.  As a blogger, I am always looking for alternative viewpoints. I try to listen before I react. I respect perspectives even when I disagree with them, because real conversation only happens when we allow ourselves to hear things that make us uncomfortable. Growing up in the 60s and 70s and into my college years, I was taught — like many of us — that America was unquestionably the greatest country on the face of the earth. It wasn’t even up for debate. It was simply an accepted truth. I believed it. I didn’t question it when Tom ...

Let me start with a confession: I am not a fan of waiting. I don’t like waiting in line at the grocery store. I don’t like waiting at the doctor’s office. I don’t like waiting for the microwave to hit zero. I especially don’t like waiting on God. Because when God says “wait,” it usually feels less like a gentle pause and more like being stuck in divine hold music with no estimated wait time and no option to press zero for customer service. Recently, I ran across a phrase that hit me right between the eyes: “If God is making you wait, do what waiters do and serve.” Suddenly, waiting didn’t feel like punishment anymore; it felt like purpose. Most of us think waiting is dead space.  We treat it like life is on pause until something happens, until the job comes through, the healing arrives, the relationship changes, the opportunity opens, or the direction becomes clear. We sit there tapping our feet, checking our spiritual watch, wondering why God is taking so long. Meanwhile, Go...

Let’s start this blog post off with a simple thought: I have a Y chromosome. For many, this is a “news flash” moment, but for others, it explains a lot. Women have XX chromosomes, and guys have XY chromosomes. That Y chromosome carries certain… tendencies. With regularity, when I am having what I call “Greg moments,” I warn people in advance: “I have a Y chromosome… talk to me slowly, look at me when you talk, don’t use big words, don’t be multisyllabic, don’t assume I got you the first time, and understand that I am more of a hands-on type of guy.” Sometimes, having a Y chromosome simply means I am going to do things that are just plain stupid. Take this weekend, for example. We did spring cleaning in the four-stall garage (which, for the record, only one car will actually fit in), and around the yard. This included power washing everything — the stairs, siding, front porch, car, yard equipment, toys, and even the lawn chairs. Now, I’ve owned a power washer for years, but I’ve...

Yesterday, I shared a meme that said if kids want to know what growing up in the 70s was like, you take their phone, turn off the internet, and tell them to go outside and play until dark. Simple.  Brutal.  Accurate.  No GPS.  No texting. No “Find My Friends.”  Just a bike, a baseball glove, maybe a questionable decision or two, and a general understanding that if you weren’t home by dark, your mom would come looking for you — and not in a calm, supportive way. Somehow, we survived.  Actually, we did more than survive.  We lived. Today, I ran across a reflection that stopped me in my tracks, a look at kids from the 80s and 90s trying to imagine what the future would be like.  It went something like this: So you're telling me in the future people just stare at a little box all day… inside and outside? Wait… in the future, you don’t even own your music — you just pay every month to borrow it, and if you stop paying, it disappears? So before people e...

  “Slow and steady wins the race.” “All things in moderation.” “Trust the process.” “Rome wasn’t built in a day.” “Poco a poco.” “Step by step.” “Stay the course.” We have heard these phrases our entire lives. Somewhere along the way, they became background noise—like elevator music for personal growth. Nice sayings. Good advice. Easy to nod at and then completely ignore while we sprint headfirst into exhaustion. I’ll be honest. I have not always adhered to this advice. In fact, I have often done the exact opposite. “More haste, less speed.” “Little strokes fell great oaks.” “Be not afraid of growing slowly; be afraid only of standing still.” “It does not matter how slowly you go, as long as you do not stop.” These words have been echoing in my mind lately as this body continues to ache and remind me that it is no longer 25 years old and indestructible. The painful reality of my progress. The harder I try to get in shape, the more active I try to become, the more I seem to...

It’s the first day of spring. Mini victory in the never-ending game of life. The sun is teasing us, birds are auditioning for American Idol , and somewhere, a kid just sneezed pollen directly into your eyeball. (Yes, nature, I see you.) And yet, here I am, thinking about home. Kansas City. The city of fountains—though honestly, I never cared much about the fountains (seriously, who’s impressed by water spraying from concrete?). What I do miss is... the Plaza lights at Christmas, which somehow made your heart glow bigger than your bank account. The legends. Lenny Dawson. George Brett. Men who actually taught you what loyalty looked like, none of this social media virtue-signaling nonsense. Spring is supposed to be about renewal. But let’s be honest: the older you get, “renewal” mostly means remembering your allergies exist, realizing your knees crack like popcorn, and pretending you’re going to do something productive other than binge-watch Stranger Things (5) with the missus. The...

Every year on March 17, America turns… green. Not just a little green— aggressively green . We’ve got rivers dyed like highlighter ink in Chicago , people wearing shamrock sunglasses, green wigs that look like they lost a fight with a lawnmower, and beverages that—let’s be honest—probably should not exist in nature. Then there are the parades. Oh, the parades. Somewhere between celebration and something that feels suspiciously like a toned-down version of a Roman festival gone sideways. Let’s not even get started on certain “traditions” in places like Rolla (Alice)… some things are better left unexplained in polite company.  Then there's the corned beef and cabbage. A meal proudly consumed across America on this day… that most actual Irish people don’t even claim. Which brings us to one of the great ironies of all:  St. Patrick wasn’t Irish. Saint Patrick was, in fact, British—captured as a young man, enslaved, and taken to Ireland. For six long years, he li...

  Anyone who has spent a little time with Star Trek eventually encounters one of its most interesting ideas. It’s called The Prime Directive. In the world of the United Federation of Planets, it is the highest rule of exploration: Do not interfere with the natural development of another civilization. Even if you have better technology. Even if you think you know better. Even if you could easily fix their problems. Captains like James T. Kirk & Jean-Luc Picard spent entire episodes wrestling with this rule. They see suffering. They see problems that advanced technology could solve in minutes. But they also understand something deeper: Interference changes history. Sometimes forever. The older I get, the more I realize this idea shows up quietly in everyday life. Every decision is a fork in the road. Every small nudge can alter direction. Scientists call this the Butterfly Effect—the idea that tiny changes can ripple outward into enormous consequences. A word spoken different...

  Nature is a pretty good teacher if you’re willing to slow down and notice things. A sunflower turning toward the morning light. A dandelion growing through a crack in the sidewalk. A lotus blooms quietly above muddy water. Bamboo rising after years of invisible growth. Wildflowers appear where nobody planned a garden. Each one grows differently, and that’s the lesson here. Over the years, I’ve come to believe that students (people) grow a lot like flowers. Not in the same way, not at the same pace, and not always in the same place. If you pay attention, you start to notice that most of us carry a little bit of one of these five flowers inside us. The Sunflower People Sunflowers have a simple philosophy for living well. They turn toward the light. Young sunflowers literally follow the sun across the sky each day. As they mature, they settle facing east so they can greet the morning light first. Sunflower people are a lot like that. They look for the good in situations. They lift o...

There is a small piece of wisdom I heard recently about sunflowers. If you ever give someone a sunflower, give them two . The reason is beautiful. Sunflowers spend their days facing the sun. They turn slowly across the sky, following the light as it travels from morning to evening. But when night falls—when the sun disappears, and darkness settles over the field—something remarkable is said to happen. They turn toward each other.  When the light is gone, they lean inward, sharing what warmth they can until morning returns. Now, before the botanists send me emails, I will acknowledge that the science behind this is a little more poetic than precise. Young sunflowers do follow the sun in a process called heliotropism , and mature ones eventually face east permanently. But the idea behind the story may matter even more than the biology. Because as metaphors go, this one is almost perfect. When life is bright, when the sun is high, and everything feels possible, most of us know how to...