My dad had a saying for everything. Most of them were short and delivered with a crooked smile and a whisper laugh that reminded me of Muttley the cartoon snickering dog.

**“Let the world take a spin without you.”**

When I was twenty-three, I was temporarily running a Gap store while my manager was away. Sales were down. Deliveries were late. Employees were calling in sick. I had to cut hours, and no one was happy about it.

I wanted so badly to prove I could lead. Instead, I sat on the floor of my tiny San Francisco apartment, crying into a landline phone to my dad. I unloaded everything and expected advice, a strategy, the usual lecture and maybe even a little sympathy. Instead he said,

“Hey, you oughtta let the world take a spin without you.”

That was it. No explanation. No comforting words - there rarely were. No practical advice. Just another one of Dick’s cryptic one-liners.

I remember thinking, That’s not helpful. In fact, I think I was a little offended. Was he saying I didn’t matter? That the world didn’t need me? That if I disappeared, everything would be just fine?

Over the years, he’d say it again whenever I got wound up about work, relationships, or life. And every time I’d think, There he goes again.

A few days ago I was sitting in almost the exact same place emotionally. This time crying to my sister on a cell phone. Different problem. Same inner voice.

The workshop I’m creating wasn’t coming together. My inner critic had me convinced I wasn’t good enough, that nobody would care, that I was in over my head.

The funny thing about inner critics is they don’t update their scripts. Mine was still reading from the one it wrote when I was twenty-three.

So I did something I didn’t know I was doing. I stopped. Took a break. I let the world take a spin without me. When I came back, I could finally see what had been there all along.

Two days later, standing in the shower, Dad’s words finally made sense. Maybe that’s the gift of distance. Not that the problem disappears. But that we do. Just enough to see it differently.

I actually think that’s the lesson. Not that the world keeps spinning. Not that you’re unimportant.

But that you cannot hear wisdom while you’re drowning in urgency.

Thanks, Dad.

I finally get it.

Written by Dick’s daughter.

What have you been trying so hard to solve that you can’t see it anymore?

A decision. A deadline. A relationship. A problem you can’t seem to untangle.

Maybe it’s time to borrow one of Dick’s sayings.

Humor me.

Let the world take a spin without you.

It’ll still be there when you get back.

And you just might come back with clearer eyes.