【轻阅读，看世界】What is the best advice your father ever gave you?

Many years ago, my dad gave me some advice I would never forget.

The advice was in response to a rash request - I wanted to quit my first job. I worked at a golf course. This meant most of my time, I drove a cart with a cage on it while Tiger Woods wannabes tried to hit me. This job did not require towering intellect. Most days, I was bored.

Dad listened to my meticulous reasoning as to why my time would be better spent elsewhere. He nodded. Then he said this:

"If you don’t create excellence with what you have now, you probably won’t get it where you’re going."

To this sage wisdom, I promptly stamped off, took a shower and went to bed. This was in part because he gave me an answer I did not want, but also because the next day’s shift began at 4:30 AM.

At the time what he said only translated to: "No, you can't quit."

As time moves, you become more grateful for your parents. You start to realize they care for you. Generally, what they say is in your best interest.

I remembered his advice and tried it out on my next few jobs.

When I worked at summer camp, I got assigned to an age group I would have rather died than spent time with. They cried and got snot everywhere. Nevertheless, I woke up each day and tried to do my job with excellence.

The head director of this camp job noticed me, and realized I would soon be graduating college. This meant I would need a “real job.” She set up an interview. The hiring manager was doubtful. “He seems quiet.”

“Trust me,” my camp boss said. “He won’t let you down.”

I got hired.

Soon, though, I found myself wishing I was still puttering around in a golf cart. My first corporate job was so boring, I once spent a whole day reading the Kelly Blue Book of Grammar for excitement. My dad’s voice still rang in my ears. I tried to do the work with excellence.

I worked that job for a six months. One day, out of the blue, a colleague I barely knew asked if I’d be interested in a role on her team. This role would require me to be in front of a camera. I wasn’t sure if I could do it. I thought I could only write. Could I be engaging on camera? Could I be animated enough?

Even with my doubts, I took the job, cut my hair, put on a smile, and tried to do it with excellence.

I took my new talents of writing and smiling to the Internet, where I grew a following of almost 60,000 people.

A stranger from across the Atlantic Ocean saw this progress. He reached out to me in a tweet and asked me to help him write a book. I said yes without a clue what I was really getting into.

This one almost broke me.

Most of my days (and many late nights) were spent trying to cobble together a coherent narrative from his rambling, unfocused audio messages. We would get on a phone call the next day, and he’d say “I didn’t say that, did I?”

Every time I wanted to quit, I thought of dad and rallied. Two years after the Englishman found me and one year after we initially planned on having the book finished, we met up in London. He took this picture on the bank of the River Thames with our other co-writer. The men shown below are now two of my closest friends in the world.

Meanwhile, I remained working in the same company that hired me for the boring job all those years ago. This March, my new boss said “How would you feel about moving to Paris? You can work there for a while. Bring your wife.”

I asked Kate if that would be interesting to her. Can you guess what she said?

Not so long ago, I lived in Dickson, Tennessee. Have you ever heard of it? I didn’t think so.

Today, I woke up in Paris freaking France. I walk downstairs from my apartment and there is the Eiffel Tower.

I called Dad last week. He said, “Can you believe they’re PAYING YOU to work in France! It’s incredible!”

What he knew all those years ago, but didn't say, was this:

You don't find excellence. You build it, and then it takes you places.

Thanks, Dad.