The Power of One Small Yes

I've been thinking lately about how much of my life can be traced back to one simple word: yes.

Our family has a philosophy that we try to live by—we try everything once. We say yes more often than we say no. It doesn't mean every opportunity is the right one, or that every experience turns out the way we'd hoped. But looking back, so many of the greatest blessings in my life began with a simple decision to say yes.

If I hadn't said yes when a beautiful girl from my high school asked me out, my life would look completely different. I wouldn't have married my best friend. I wouldn't have the life we've built together. She has been my rock, my role model, my sounding board, and often the voice of reason when I need it most. Together we’re raising an amazing son, and somewhere along the way she also became my most trusted production assistant and key grip. I'm grateful that one "yes" led to a lifetime of adventures with her.

If I hadn't said yes when a college buddy invited me to join the campus radio station, I might never have discovered my passion for media. That one opportunity led me to study broadcasting, work in television, produce corporate videos, create original programming, make a documentary, and eventually build two production companies from the ground up. Along the way, I even got to meet David Letterman. Well... "meet" might be a strong word. We exchanged a quick hello in passing, but I'm counting it.

When our minister asked if I would serve as Creative Director for our church, saying yes opened a door I never knew existed. It helped me discover that storytelling could be a ministry. I had the privilege of helping our congregation stay connected through virtual worship during the pandemic, supporting the wider Indiana-Kentucky Conference, and serving at General Synod for the United Church of Christ. One of the most memorable moments was witnessing history as the denomination elected its first female General Minister and President, with my own female Senior Pastor sitting beside me. None of that was part of the plan. It all started with one invitation.

A few years later, another unexpected opportunity arrived when I was asked to teach three college courses. I'll admit, I wasn't sure I was the right person for the job. But I said yes anyway. That decision introduced me to incredible colleagues at WVUT who have challenged and encouraged me, and to students who have taught me just as much about teaching as I've taught them about video production. I discovered that I don't just enjoy creating media—I love helping others learn how to create it too.

Now, I don't want to pretend that saying yes always leads to wonderful outcomes. It doesn't.

I've said yes to projects that didn't work out. I've accepted opportunities that became stressful, disappointing, or simply weren't the right fit. Saying yes doesn't guarantee success.

But even those experiences taught me something. They made me wiser. They helped me recognize better opportunities when they came along. They shaped who I am just as much as the victories did.

Life has a funny way of unfolding. We rarely know where a decision will lead when we're making it. Most of the time, we're simply taking the next step without seeing the entire path ahead.

So if you take anything from these random thoughts, I hope it's this: whether you're in a season of celebration or struggle, trust that your journey is shaping you. The road isn't always easy, and not every yes will lead where you expected. But sometimes the next chapter of your life begins with one small decision to embrace an opportunity instead of fearing it.

Looking back, I'm incredibly thankful for the moments when I chose to say yes. They gave me a wife I adore, a family I cherish, a career I never imagined, a ministry that fills my heart, and the privilege of teaching the next generation.

You never know where one small yes might take you.

The Feast, the Famine, and Everything Between

I find that life is full of trends. You settle into a routine, and everything seems to repeat itself over and over. Then, suddenly, the schedule changes. It's abrupt, confusing, and sometimes challenging. But we adapt. We adjust. Eventually, the new routine becomes the normal one.

And I know this doesn't just apply to little old me.

In December of 2020, I submitted bids for 11 video projects. Being pragmatic, I figured if I was lucky, I'd land two to four of them.

Imagine my excitement when I found out I had won all eleven.

The Vaupel Video Christmas party was looking pretty good.

Then reality set in.

Every one of those projects was due at roughly the same time; the end of April. That might sound like plenty of time, but here's the catch: none of them actually started until February. The work required travel across multiple cities and states, and as a sole proprietor, every day I'm on the road is a day I'm not sitting at my editing desk.

With a lot of planning, communication, late nights, and honestly, a little luck, every project was delivered on time. The clients were thrilled, and that success led to even more opportunities.

Life was good.

The funny thing is, that has pretty much been the routine ever since.

It's either feast or famine.

When things are slow, they are slooooooooooow. You start wondering if your email notification will ever make a sound again.

Then the pendulum swings.

Suddenly I'm juggling multiple productions, editing several projects, planning shoots, answering emails, and trying to remember which notebook contains which idea. It can feel like I'm drowning.

And I sincerely mean this; I am not complaining.

It's simply the nature of this industry. For whatever reason, everyone decides they need a video, graphic, animation, or creative project at almost exactly the same time. And I love that I'm still the person they call.

I'm grateful for the work because it has forced me to grow.

I've learned how to budget; not just money, but time. I've become a much better project manager (a huge shoutout to my wife, who has been my mentor in that department). I've learned how to work efficiently from hotel rooms and airports. I've lost count of the number of rough cuts I've finished while traveling.

The summer of 2026 has been no exception. There are so many exciting projects happening that it's sometimes hard to stay focused on the one in front of me because I'm already excited about the next one waiting in line.

I'm sure someone is asking, "If you're this busy, how do you have time to write a blog?"

Fair question.

First, since I started blogging regularly, traffic to my website has steadily increased. I'm not saying those two things are directly connected, but I'm always looking for ways to reach new clients. Writing has become part of my job.

Second—and maybe more importantly—I need the mental break.

My brain has been in work mode almost nonstop since February. It refuses to shut off. I've gone through more field notebooks than I can count.

Sidebar: Most creative people carry a notebook. When inspiration strikes, we write it down before it disappears. My current notebook is filled with storyboards, animation ideas, camera shots, cutaway concepts, and random notes that probably only make sense to me.

Writing lets my brain shift gears.

It reminds me that the email can wait a few minutes. The next project can wait until the current one is finished. Coffee is still not a food group.

Most importantly, it reminds me what being busy actually means.

It means people continue to trust me with their stories.

It means that nearly ten years into this adventure, I'm still making a living doing work I genuinely love.

And perhaps the most rewarding part is seeing how much my work has evolved.

That's probably an entirely different blog post, but I'm proud that every year I get a little better. I've worked hard to avoid becoming an assembly line where every video looks and feels exactly the same. Trust me, that's a very real temptation in creative work, and it's something I've intentionally tried to avoid.

One of the unexpected joys this year has been the number of new clients.

Each project introduces me to an industry I know almost nothing about. I get to ask questions, learn how their work impacts other people, and discover why they're passionate about what they do.

That might be my favorite part of this job.

Every client teaches me something new.

So yes, the schedule is overwhelming at times. The days are long, the notebooks are full, and the coffee pot works overtime.

But I wouldn't trade it.

Now... if I could just convince everyone to spread those projects evenly across all twelve months instead of the same four, we'd really be onto something.