Welcome to the Daily Dad podcast, where we provide one lesson every single day to help you with your most important job, being a parent.

I'm Ryan Holiday, and I draw these lessons from ancient philosophy, modern psychology, practical wisdom, and insights from

parents just like you all over the world. Thank you for listening, and we hope this helps.

It's funny, on a given day, I think one of us in our family is wearing our Hoka Mach 6s. I've got a pair. My wife's got a pair. My oldest has got a pair. And my youngest got a pair. And they're all matching colors. Sometimes we match. I feel a little more comfortable when we're not all matching. But one of us always feels inclined to throw on a pair of these. It's a light, fast, and undeniably comfy shoe. It's got a

kid's specific design, and the fit will free your kid's inner speedster for a daily fun. To learn

more about the kids' mock six shoe, visit today's show notes and check it out.

You cannot wait.

No one will ever regret the kindness and love they showed their children.

No one will ever look back and think they did too much of that. On the contrary,

history is replete, with famous and ordinary examples alike of parents looking back with

profound pain at the things they didn't say, at the love they did not convey. Montaigne in his

famous essays, and also if you haven't read Sarah Bakewell's biography of him, you must. It's one of my

favorites at the Painted Porch. He writes of one such example, a noble Frenchman whose child was

taken from him all too soon. The late father, Montania writes, was talking to me of the loss of his

son, and among other regrets, emphasized the grief and heartbreak he felt, never having revealed

himself to his son

and having lost the pleasure of knowing and savoring him all because of his fancy to appear with the

gravity of a stern father. He had never told him of the immense love he felt for him and how worthy

he rated him for his virtue. We've talked about this so many times here before.

All the parents who waited who out of fear of spoiling their kids declined to celebrate them,

or followed their achievements with detachment or worse from afar. You cannot wait. Do it now.

Tell them now. Tell them over and over again. Tell them how you feel.

...