Walt Hampton, J.D.

Creating the Work & Life You LOVE

The Very Unsexy Secret To Success

The Very Unsexy Secret To Success

Big goals can be intoxicating. They light us up, fire the imagination, and pull us toward something greater than ourselves. But they can also terrify us.

A dream business. A book. A keynote. A new career. From where you stand right now, it can feel impossible. You can’t see the way. You don’t know how it will unfold. And when it gets hard , because it always does, it’s easy to want to give up.

Don’t.

When I ran the Vermont 50 miler, I learned a really important lesson: Fifty miles is a long, long way to run.

You start in the dark before dawn, headlamps bobbing, cold air biting, the trail stretching out ahead into the unknown. In the beginning, you feel strong and excited. But hours later, the euphoria fades. Your legs ache. Your mind rebels. You question everything.

That’s when you learn the truth. You can’t run fifty miles all at once. You can only take one step, then the next. You focus on what’s right in front of you. You climb one hill, cross one stream, reach one aid station. You keep moving forward. And if you do that long enough, step by step, mile by mile, you find yourself at the finish line.

It’s the same in business. The same in life. We want the whole plan. The roadmap. The certainty. We want to know it will all work out before we begin. But that’s not how growth happens. Every great goal, every extraordinary life, begins in uncertainty. And the only way through it is persistence.

You don’t need to know every move. You don’t need to have all the answers. You just need to take the next step. Martin Luther King Jr. said, “You don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.”

That’s how books get written: one page at a time. That’s how businesses grow: one client at a time. That’s how new careers are built: one conversation, one connection, one brave action at a time.

When you hit the wall, and you will, remember this: you’re not failing. You’re learning. You’re stretching. You’re becoming the person capable of achieving what you set out to do. Persistence isn’t about pushing harder. It’s about showing up again and again, even when you don’t feel like it. It’s about keeping faith when the outcome isn’t yet visible.

You take one step, then the next. You trust that the path will rise to meet you. There’s power in simplicity. Focus on today’s action. Write the page. Make the call. Send the proposal. Have the conversation. You don’t have to see the finish line to move toward it. You just need to keep moving.

Because momentum builds. Clarity comes through action. And somewhere along the way, what once felt impossible starts to take shape. Step by step, the dream becomes real.

That’s the secret. Not talent. Not luck. Persistence. Keep going. You’ve got this. Take one step. And then the next.

Are You Feeling Crispy Around The Edges?

Are You Feeling Crispy Around The Edges?

Maybe you’ve felt it lately. That sense of being just a little crispy around the edges. You’re not completely burned out, but you’re not your best self either. You’re tired, short-fused, drained. The joy that once fueled your work has started to fade.

Burnout doesn’t happen all at once. It creeps in slowly. It starts with small compromises: skipped workouts, late nights, missed weekends. The voice that says, “I’ll rest when things slow down.” Except they never do.

The signs show up in subtle ways. You start to dread the inbox. You lose patience with your team or your family. You feel detached from your purpose. You wake up tired no matter how long you sleep. You start wondering whether any of it still matters.

If any of this sounds familiar, you’re not alone. The world is moving faster than ever. Expectations are higher. Our devices never stop talking to us. The pressure to perform, to keep up, can be relentless.

And yet, the truth is this: you can’t give what you don’t have. You can’t lead, create, or serve when you’re running on fumes. You can’t be your best for others if you’ve abandoned yourself.

So what do you do when you realize you’re burning out?

First, stop pretending you’re fine. Acknowledge what’s real. Burnout thrives in denial. It grows in silence and shame. Admitting that you’re tired is not a weakness; it’s an act of courage.

Second, reclaim your margins. Every high performer I’ve ever coached has wrestled with this. They fill their calendars to the brim, mistaking activity for impact. But great lives and great work happen in the white space, in the moments between the doing. You need rest. You need recovery. You need stillness.

Third, come back to your body. Burnout is not just mental; it’s physical. Move. Breathe. Hydrate. Sleep. Step outside. Touch the ground. The body knows before the mind does. Listen to it.

Fourth, reconnect to what matters. When you’ve been running too long, you forget why you started. Ask yourself: What really lights me up? What brings me peace? Who do I love being around? Then, orient your days toward those things again.

And finally, get support. Burnout isolates. It convinces you that you’re the only one struggling. You’re not. Talk to a coach, a therapist, a trusted friend. You don’t have to do it alone.

There’s no quick fix. Reclaiming your energy and enthusiasm takes time. But you can begin today with one small act of care, one boundary drawn, one breath, one pause.

The paradox is that when you slow down, everything gets better. Your focus sharpens. Your creativity returns. You become more patient, more compassionate, more effective. You remember who you are.

The work will always be there. The deadlines will never stop. The demands will keep coming. But you get to choose how you show up.

So take a look at your life. If you’re feeling crispy around the edges, don’t wait until you’re burned out completely. Step back. Breathe. Refill your cup. You can’t pour from an empty one.

Need help? Let’s talk. Email me: [email protected]

When You’re Tired, Do This

When You’re Tired, Do This

So many people are exhausted right now.

Maybe it’s the constant churn of the news cycle. Maybe it’s the unease in the markets. Maybe it’s the angry voices and the sense of cultural uncertainty. Maybe it’s all of it, piled on top of the already heavy load of work and life.

The truth is, we’re marinating in stress. And it’s wearing us down.

And so many of us are tired.

There’s a remedy: Rest.

It sounds simple. But it’s the last thing most of us do. We push; we grind; we wear our exhaustion like a badge of honor. We tell ourselves we’ll rest when the deal closes; when the project ends; when the kids are grown; when things “settle down.”

But things rarely settle down.

In sports and fitness, rest is not optional. It’s essential. Athletes build it into their training. Because recovery is when the growth happens.

As a high-altitude mountaineer, I know this in my bones. Every two or three days on a big climb, we schedule rest days. Not as a luxury. As survival. As strength. Our bodies need to acclimatize. To recover. To prepare for what’s next. Without rest, we fail.

Somehow in business and in life, we forget this. We ignore the signals; we keep pushing forward; we believe that we can outwork our fatigue. But we can’t.

The truth is: rest is not weakness. Rest is strategy; rest is wisdom; rest is fuel for the long game.

So if you’re exhausted—mentally, physically, emotionally—it’s not a sign to push harder. It’s a sign to stop.

To step back; to breathe; to sleep; to be with those you love.

When you’re tired, rest.

Don’t Be Zinc

Don’t Be Zinc

The world feels raw right now.

Division. Discord. Rage.

Everywhere we turn, voices clash. Lines are drawn. People retreat to their corners. And the anger simmers, often spilling over.

It’s exhausting to live in the middle of it. To try to show up for others. To be steady in the storm. To hold space for both pain and hope.

It matters. But it’s also hard.

And if we’re not careful, it will consume us.

Here’s the image: A boat’s brass prop turning in salt water. Left unprotected, the salt eats away at the brass. The fix? A zinc anode attached to the shaft. The zinc corrodes first. It sacrifices itself so the brass is spared.

It’s a brilliant bit of engineering. But it’s a terrible way to live.

Don’t be zinc.

Because life is not about losing yourself for the sake of everyone else. Not to the point of corrosion. Not until there’s nothing left of you.

Even the most powerful leaders know this. Bill Gates is famous for his “Think Weeks,” time set apart to read, reflect, and recharge away from the demands of Microsoft. Warren Buffett deliberately blocks large portions of his calendar to think, read, and be still. Oprah has spoken often about the necessity of silence, prayer, and retreat. The most visionary leaders understand they cannot give their best unless they create space to be renewed.

We need the same.

Because the demands on us are endless. Another meeting. Another call. Another crisis. Another pull at our attention.

If we’re not intentional, we will be eaten away. Just like zinc.

So here’s the invitation: practice self-care as if your life depends on it. Because it does.

Rest. Real rest. Time when the phone is off. Time when the world turns without you.

Silence. Reflection. Space to breathe. Space to listen.

Care for the body. Sleep. Movement. Nourishment. Walks in the woods. Water to drink. A check-up when you need one.

Care for the heart. Therapy when it’s called for. A trusted friend. A circle of people who lift you up.

Joy. Play. Laughter. Music. Art. Time with those who delight you and remind you why life is good.

None of this is selfish. None of it indulgent. It is essential.

Because you can’t pour from an empty cup. You can’t give what you do not have.

So stop being zinc.

Be whole. Be grounded. Be alive with energy and joy. Serve not by corroding away, but by shining with resilience and grace.

That’s how we endure together. That’s how we thrive in a time of division. Not by grinding ourselves down. But by shining bright enough to light the way.

Lost and Found Again

Lost and Found Again

My eyes scanned the shelves. I nodded and I smiled.

I recognized that I owned nearly all of the self-help books in the store. And I knew in that moment that I was finally on the road to getting better.

That was decades ago now. Yet I remember clearly the bleakness of that time. How very lost I felt.

Divorced; single parenting; raising boys; practicing law.

Making lunches; taking kids to school; racing to work; getting the calls from daycare, the fever of 102º; the homework; the soccer games; the parent-teacher meetings; the calls from the principal; and, oh yes, the clients and the cases and the employees and the office management.

Falling into bed at night, exhausted and depleted. One day melting into the next; every day like the last.

And wondering: Is that all there is? What in god’s name is the point?

Dante wrote,

Midway on our life’s journey, I found myself in dark woods, the right road lost. To tell about those woods is hard — so tangled and rough and savage that thinking of it now, I feel the old fear stirring… .

(Yup. He sure had that right.)

The truth is: All of us get lost from time to time. We lose our way. The road gets rough and savage and really hard.

None of us escapes. (It’s what brings many folks to coaching.)

And there really is no way out of that dark wood.

The only way out is through.

Good teachers and mentors and therapists, and of course dear friends, can help us along the way.

But only we can do the heavy lifting.

Nietzsche wrote, “Those who have a ‘why’ to live, can bear with almost any ‘how.’

Rediscovering our purpose, reclaiming our sense of meaning, finding again that grand vision for our lives, allowing for the possibility of our dreams, getting in touch again with what quickens our hearts, what fires our imaginations: This is where the work is done. These are what finally lead us to the forest clearing.

SunStar3

Because your purpose is your power; and a purpose-driven life is a life on fire.

I remember climbing Mt. St. Helens after it had erupted, the volcanic ash ankle deep, two steps up, one step back. A demoralizing slog.

But the view; oh the view from the top, across that landscape of renewal and regrowth: It was magnificent.

And the slide back down the hill such fun.

It’s kinda like that.

So don’t despair. You will find your way through.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Purpose work is some of the toughest work people do. I know that it’s some of the toughest I have ever done. Coaching folks along this path is a tremendous privilege. I’d love to be your guide. Email me when the time is right: [email protected]

DOWNLOAD your FREE BOOK!

The-3-steps-to-living-an-inspired-life

DOWNLOAD Your Free E-Book NOW! Click Below And Get Going!

Click on the button for your copy of journeys!

Journeys-On-The-Edge

You’ll Get A Signed Copy!

Click on the button for your copy of my brand new book “The power principles of time mastery!”

The Power Principles of Time Mastery

You’ll Get A Signed Copy!

REGISTER HERE

Free Online Training Workshop

Thanks for signing in to the workshop!