Over the Thanksgiving holiday I took time to reflect on what is

Kurt Busch, the warrior of the racetrack, once declared: “Over the Thanksgiving holiday I took time to reflect on what is most important to me and realized I need to find a way to put the fun back into racing.” These words, though spoken in the world of sport, carry the weight of ancient wisdom. For they remind us that in every pursuit—whether in battle, in labor, or in art—there lies a danger: that passion may harden into burden, and joy may be smothered by duty. Reflection, born in a season of gratitude like Thanksgiving, became for Busch the mirror in which he saw that success without joy is an empty crown.

The origin of this wisdom lies in the nature of man’s pursuits. Busch, a NASCAR champion, knew victory and fame. Yet with the victories came pressure, expectation, and the grind of endless competition. It was only when he paused during the holiday of gratitude, when the roar of engines was replaced by the stillness of family and the rhythm of thankfulness, that he recognized what was slipping away: the fun, the very fire that first drew him to the track. In that pause, he remembered that true greatness is not measured in trophies alone, but in the joy of the journey.

This truth is echoed in the lives of many before him. Consider Alexander the Great, who conquered vast lands but wept when no worlds remained to conquer. He had achieved glory, but the joy of conquest had turned to weariness. Or think of Beethoven, who, despite losing his hearing, pressed onward not for fame, but for the sheer joy of music. Where joy remained, strength endured; where it was lost, even kings grew weary. Busch’s words thus join a chorus of history reminding us that no pursuit—whether in sport, war, or art—can sustain the soul unless it also carries joy.

The deeper meaning is this: fun is not mere playfulness, but the essence of passion. It is the spark that transforms effort into art, that makes long hours of training feel like moments, that turns sacrifice into fulfillment. Without it, work becomes drudgery, victories feel hollow, and even triumph tastes bitter. To “put the fun back” is to reclaim the original flame, to return to the childlike wonder that first said: “This is what I love, this is what I was made to do.”

There is also wisdom in the timing of his reflection. Thanksgiving, a holiday of gratitude, invites all who celebrate it to pause, to look beyond striving, and to consider what truly matters. For Busch, it was not another win, but the rediscovery of joy. So too, for each of us, seasons of pause—whether holidays, Sabbaths, or moments of silence—are vital to keep us from losing ourselves in endless pursuit. They are the sacred spaces where the soul breathes and remembers its first loves.

The lesson for future generations is clear: never let the pressures of success rob you of the joy that first drew you to your path. Whether you are a worker, an artist, a leader, or an athlete, guard your passion as a treasure. Pause often to reflect, to ask yourself not only “What have I achieved?” but also “Am I still joyful in this?” If the answer is no, have the courage to change, to restore, to bring the fun back into your journey.

Practical wisdom flows from this truth. Take time to step back from your pursuits. Celebrate small victories. Allow laughter, friendship, and play to mingle with your labors. For joy is not the enemy of excellence but its very fuel. Teach this to your children, that they may know life is not merely about striving, but about finding joy in the striving.

Thus, Kurt Busch’s reflection, born in a season of gratitude, becomes a teaching for the ages. Thanksgiving gave him the clarity to see that joy is the true prize, more precious than trophies, more lasting than applause. Let us all, in our own pursuits, remember to guard our joy, to cherish our passion, and to keep alive the fun that makes the journey worth taking.