Lessons from Red

Lessons from Red
Growing up on a farm, life was structured by chores and responsibilities, intertwined with the rhythms of the animals we cared for. Every morning before school, it was my job to head out to the barn, clean the stalls, and feed the horses. The barn was always cool in the early hours, the air filled with the earthy scent of hay and the soft, welcoming sounds of the horses stirring.

My favorite horse was Red, a gentle giant with a rusty-colored coat and a curious nature. He was always the first to greet me when I entered the barn. Despite his size, Red had a way of making you feel calm and at ease, his deep eyes reflecting a wisdom beyond his years.

One particular task I had each morning was to clean the water trough and refill it with fresh water. Red would follow me to the trough, his ears perked forward with interest. He'd lower his head to inspect my work, but despite the clear, cool water I provided, he would rarely drink immediately. I often found myself saying, "Well, as we all know, we can lead a horse to water, but we can't make them drink." This adage became a personal mantra, resonating with me both in those moments and later in life as a speaker and leader.

One memorable morning, after finishing the usual chores, I decided to lay out a new salt lick by the barn. The salt lick was a treat for the horses, a little something extra to keep them happy and healthy. Red, with his usual curiosity, ambled over and started licking the block. He seemed particularly delighted with this new addition to his morning routine. After indulging in the salt, Red followed me once again to the water trough. This time, something changed. He lowered his head and, without hesitation, began to drink.

I stood there, watching him in amazement. It was such a simple act, yet it felt profound. When I went back into the house, I couldn't wait to tell my dad. "Dad," I said with a mixture of excitement and pride, "I finally got Red to drink the water!"

My dad chuckled, setting down his coffee cup. "What was different this time?" he asked.

"Well," I replied, "I gave him a new salt lick, and then he came over with me to drink some water."

My dad's eyes twinkled with understanding. "Son, I want you to remember this moment for the rest of your life. You see, you may not be able to lead a horse to water and make him drink, but if you make him thirsty, he will drink. Always keep people engaged and give them something they want. Make them thirsty for more."

His words struck a chord deep within me. It was a lesson not just about horses, but about life and leadership. The principle was simple yet powerful: engagement and desire drive action. This idea has stayed with me for over 38 years, a guiding principle in my career as a speaker and leader.

Whenever I face a challenge in motivating my team or engaging an audience, I think back to that morning with Red. I remember the way he eagerly licked the salt, and how that small gesture led to him drinking the water. It reminds me to find that 'salt lick' for the people I work with – to understand what will make them eager, what will spark their interest and passion. By doing so, I can inspire them to take the actions needed to achieve our goals.

This lesson from Red is one of many that I carry from my childhood on the farm. The simplicity of those days, the daily chores, and the connection with the animals all taught me invaluable lessons about patience, responsibility, and the importance of small actions. But perhaps the most enduring lesson is this: true leadership isn't about forcing action. It's about creating an environment where action becomes a natural, desired response. And sometimes, all it takes is a little bit of salt.