Top Ten Reasons to Finish Your Sales Year Strong

The last quarter of the year is upon us. Regardless of how the previous three quarters have gone and regardless of where you are right now toward goal, finish strong. You simply must finish strong. 

Come Q4, we generally have a line of sight on how the year will shake out. We may be already at goal, or at the edge of hitting it. We may be nowhere near goal and lamenting the year's headwinds. Or perhaps we are somewhere right in the middle – left or right of 50% unlikely to meet the goal. I’ve been at all of these positions in Q4 in my sales career and regardless of the ultimate outcome, I am here to tell you that throwing in the towel now is by far the worst option. Listen! 

Sales is hard. 

Sales is scary.

Sales is thankless.

Be validated in knowing that all of these feelings inside of you are true. This is (in fact) why sales professionals are so well compensated, and why every single company has a sales division. But that’s not all. 

“Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time.”

— Thomas Edison

Sales is challenging.

Sales is adventurous.

Sales is exciting! 

And sales is worth it. You registered for this race, so kick through the finish. Wherever you are in the stack ranking today, here are ten reasons to drive through the finish line in Q4. 

1. Work Ethic - Teach yourself to glide today and you will glide tomorrow. Discipline yourself to fight today and you will fight tomorrow. Nobody glides into their goal. And nobody learns how to hit their goal without first learning how to push through when it’s hard. 

2. Sandbags Leak - Sandbagging is sales slang for half-stepping. It means giving minimal effort while looking like you’re still giving the maximum. Sometimes sandbaggers try to straddle a year with an account to pad their number for next year. Beware. What you think will be there tomorrow, just might not. Close now what you have now. Let the year fall as it may. 

3. Pay Day - As already stated, there’s a reason sales professionals get compensated so well. Your compensation is directly tied to your results. Last I checked, 110% of $100 is still better than 100%. Additionally, 50% of $100 is also better than 25%. Earn what you can - especially if your company has sales kickers, sales spiffs, and the all-glorious uncapped comp plan. 

4. Make It Or Break It - Quitters don’t last in sales. Full stop. 

5. It Only Gets Harder - Guess what? Your goal is going to increase. It is best to learn how to hit a higher number now when you have a lower number as opposed to striving for the next level without any reps or rewards. Goals always increase. If they didn’t increase for you, awesome. They will. 

6. Stack Rankings - #1 is still the best. Don’t look over your shoulder and lose the race to a Hungrier Hippo than you. And while we’re at it, #2 is better than #3; #3 is better than #4; #40 is better than #59, and so it goes. 

7. Stacks Get Whacked - It’s no secret that sales organizations cut portions of their field forces due to financial pressures. It’s best to be on the right side of the math because they don’t start chopping from the top. They chop from the bottom. Best to scurry up the stack while you can. 

8. It’s Not All About The Number - Well…I mean, it is. You either hit your number or you don’t. That’s the game. And…Great sales leaders look at the whole of the person instead of just the number. You could be south of 50% while demonstrating that you’re executing the right actions to break through. You could also be north of 50%–or near the top–while demonstrating that you’ve already stopped working for the year. It all comes out in the wash. Be careful. 

9. It’s Not About You - It’s also about your sales leader and their leaders. You may have already received your reward for the year. Perhaps your plan is capped and there’s no more coming your way. Perhaps you literally cannot go any higher than the top that you’re at. But I’d be willing to bet your sales leaders could still use your numbers. All of them. And that their reward for the year depends on your efforts. Help them. Because I guarantee they’ve helped you. You think being in sales is thankless? Try being a sales leader! 

10. There’s No “I” in Team - but there is in INDIVIDUAL and SELFISH. Help your team. Go for the team win! I trust someone on your team has helped you, and even if they haven’t, I trust that someone at some time in your sales career has. Pay it forward. Sales is hard. Oh, also, there’s an “I” in QUIT. Refer to bullet four.

Look, now is not the time to mail it in because you’re at the top or give in because you’re at the bottom. It’s Q4, not Christmas. When Christmas hits and no one wants to talk to you because they kicked through the finish, then you can rest, just like your clients. But right now, we need you. Because it’s the last quarter. So finish strong! 

Whose Dream is This?

We travel a lot as a family. Our adventures have taken us to Europe, Central America, and most of the United States. When you travel, you get to experience a lot. There are places to explore, people to meet, mountains to climb, and waters to rest by. Throughout these travels, I am always drawn to the broken-down, forgotten buildings on the side of the road. And I wonder, “Who’s dream was this?” 

The Bay station rests at the intersection of SR97 and Otho Rd. in Abbeville, Alabama. Kelly and I came across it while running. The distinctive Alabama red and white sign with the three black letters sagged at an angle, riddled with rust-marked bullet holes. Below the sign, a small store lay boarded up next to a tired awning guarding a collapsed recliner from the rain. 

Whose dream was the Bay Station on the corner of this rolling country road? What were their names? How did they come to open the store? I imagine them saying hello to their customers, like the cars that pass us as we sweat in the muggy Lake Eufaula heat. Each driver ensures they slow down, gives us ample room for safety, and makes eye contact as we exchange waves. I imagine the folks at the Bay station embodied that care for others. I imagine them doing good with the good they’ve been given, undoubtedly with a pot of hot coffee, a warm handshake, and some cold nightcrawlers—provisions to warm the belly, fill a heart, and snatch a bass from the lake. 

And I wonder, “Did they realize they were living their dream amid it all?” I pray they did. Wherever they are, I truly hope they knew they were living a dream. As they balanced their budgets, maintained their inventory, and greeted their customers, I hope they knew what they were doing was special. Especially on the days it felt like a slog. Those are the real special days in a business. The ones you look back on with a smile. I certainly admire them now, huffing away on the road, lost in thought. 

We passed a man mowing his field on our return route. He paused his work a second time to extend a smile and a wave to us. We waved back, and I considered how incredible the folks of the old Bay station must have been. I wonder if anybody else thinks about this. We often admire the Steve Jobs of the world, the Apples, the Air BnBs, and the Microsofts. But those are truly outliers. The Bay corner stores are more common. These are the stories of America on country roads and old Main streets. The Bay stations are far more common than Bill Gates and Paul Allen toiling away in an Albuquerque garage. We all know that story well, though Bill Gates doesn’t know any of us. 

I don't know the names of the folks who owned the Bay station, but I guarantee everyone in the community did. And I suspect they knew all of their customers' names right back. 

We tend to get lulled into the modern appeal of the celebrity CEO and the bajillions of dollars they have. We focus on these in business classes and study their moves - when they took on investment, what they IPO’ed at, how they built their team, how many failures it took to get to the one breakout success, and so on. I tend to gravitate towards the Bay stations, the lawn businesses, the contractors, and the plumbers of the world–the small businesses that drive our economy, create jobs, and make up 99.9% of all U.S. businesses. There are companies like ours, and I can’t help but reflect upon the moment we are living right now. 

I recognize that we are living our dreams. We are doing good with the good God has given us. I hope the people of Bay knew it while they were in it. I certainly know it right now. And while I don’t know where ALPs will go, I know that the people we serve know that we care about them and that we are with them. Just like the people we pass on our run who stop what they are doing to ensure that we know they see us and they care. 

I cannot answer whose dreams I pass on roads, nor can I predict our mark when we’re gone. But I know this dream we are living is a gift, and I pray that it marks the lives of the people we serve and the lives of those they touch. 

What dream are you living right now? 

Failing Doesn't Make You a Failure

Anyone who has come up short in accomplishing a goal has probably heard the story about Thomas Edison’s 10,000 attempts at creating the lightbulb. Edison said that he didn’t fail 10,000 times, he just found 10,000 ways that didn’t work. As altruistic of a story as that may be when it was told to me in the midst of a life defeat, that random bit of trivia was of no consolation. 

I was academically dismissed from the U.S. Coast Guard Academy (USCGA) when I was barely 20 years old. It was my first lesson in life not working out how I had planned. At the time, I honestly thought my life wouldn’t amount to much. Looking back on it 23 years later, it’s fairly inconsequential. Since that day, I’ve encountered some real life-altering losses: the suicide of a dear friend, the suicide of a mentor, the deaths of a parent, colleagues, and family members; divorce, financial issues, career changes…I could go on. These are the things that truly test one’s faith and internal drive. 

I’m glad I had that loss on the scoreboard early in my life. It was my first opportunity to show some grit and decide whether I’d move forward or wallow in what could have been. 

After graduating high school, my goals were to serve in the military and play basketball in college. Numerous colleges recruited me for basketball, but USCGA checked both of those boxes. I also had pride in the fact that a beloved Uncle was an alum of the Academy and a career Coast Guard officer. I was fortunate to earn an appointment and a spot on the women’s basketball team. Dream come true! But it all came crashing down a year and a half later when I couldn’t maintain the minimum GPA. Could I have studied more? Probably. Should I have quit the basketball team and focused on academics? Maybe. Should I have spent less time chatting with friends on the addicting vixen that was AOL Instant Messenger in the late 90s? Definitely. 

I did none of those things, and my GPA showed it. Who knows - I could have done all three and still gotten dismissed. There’s only so much we can control, but we can always control our response. How we respond is the most critical decision point when we fail at something that matters. 

We are not our failures. 

Failing causes us to feel a sense of shame, anger, embarrassment, and even grief. As much as we may not want to realize it, there’s value in every failed venture and dream, in everything that doesn’t go our way. It shows us what doesn’t work and gets us that much closer to understanding what will. Failing also shows us how much we care about that endeavor, which is a double-edged sword because our bruised ego tends to get in the way of us learning valuable lessons in the midst of our heartache. It’s easy to get in our heads and let our pride run away from us. We can have the perception that our failures are more public and apparent than any of our successes. We feel our failure so strongly that we swear everyone else knows about it, like we’ve got some big red F written on our foreheads.

You come home, and people in your town are wondering why because they know you went away to do something epic. 

You don’t get a promotion at work that you’re perfect for. 

You put all your savings into starting your dream business only to have to close the doors. 

You didn’t get offered the new job you wanted so badly.

Or, you did get that dream job, and the trainwreck you now see behind the curtain wasn’t in the brochure. 

The reality is, no one really cares. No one else is thinking about it and agonizing over failing like you are. That may sound harsh, but it should also be a relief to gather yourself and move on to what’s next. Perhaps the people closest to you–your family and friends who are walking beside you through this–are the only ones who care. 

You can tell because they support and remind you that you did something that mattered, regardless of the outcome. When I came home from the USCGA I learned that my family and friends cared about me…not my GPA, not my wadded-up basketball jersey I’d never wear again, and not my dismissal. They cared about me, and they reminded me that failing did not make me a failure. 

“No mud, no lotus. ”

— Thich Nhat Hanh

In fact, failing made me grow as a person. I’ve come to understand that having some games in the loss column has helped me get to where I am today – a wife and mom with a respected career. My losses in life have taught me immeasurably more than the wins. 

Here are some thoughts on how to take every single nugget of wisdom out of our losses.

• Journal your thoughts. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Put it all down. Get them out of your head and onto the page. 

• Stop the noise. Tell that voice inside your head reminding you that you failed to shut up! You know what happened. Replaying it in your mind only keeps you stuck in place, agonizing over it. 

• Recognize the positive. Stay positive, practice gratitude, but don’t ignore the messy feelings you do have. Acknowledge those too and don’t push them aside. It’s easy to be thankful for answered prayers and grateful when we get exactly what we want. What’s not so easy is to remember to be grateful when we don’t get what we want. More things are truly going better in your life than not.

• Be kind to yourself. Take a break, go for a hike, do a yoga session, eat right, and don’t drink your failure into another failure. Recognize that you are worthy of this amazing life - all of life with its crazy ups and heartbreaking downs. 

• Don’t compare yourself to others. How other people “made it” and you didn’t, how unfair it may be that so-and-so got the job, and you didn’t. It doesn’t help, and it doesn’t matter. The loss is the loss. All comparison will do is steal your joy. 

• Redefine your definition of failure and success. Take the rejections with a smile. Let the “no’s” move you down the road to what will be a “yes”. You’re not being punished. You’re right where you need to be. 

• Regroup and make plans for the future. Your next step is the most important step. Will you believe that voice in your head telling you you’re a failure, or will you reject that lie, learn from your losses, and come back even stronger? Only you can decide this for yourself. 

I regrouped and had a typical university experience (and an awful lot of fun) working as a bartender and graduating on time. Two weeks after graduation, I reported to Officer Candidate School, received my commission as a Coast Guard officer, and served on Active Duty for five years. I’ve had plenty of losses and wins since. 

Life will kick us in the teeth. How we respond is what matters the most. Lean into your losses, they have so much to teach us. And move forward toward your next goal with the wisdom gained along the way. The difference now is that I fully embrace what legendary point guard John Stockton meant when he said, “Struggles are what made everything worthwhile.” 

Play to Win

There is a massive difference between Playing to Win and Playing Not-to-Lose.

I can’t remember when I was first introduced to this concept, but I’ve come back to it over and over again throughout the course of my adult life. 

Whether you’re familiar with this terminology or not, you’re undoubtedly familiar with what this looks and feels like in application. A person or a team comes out of the locker room, starts having a great game, and jumps out to a big lead. At some point, they look at the scoreboard and realize, “damn, we’re way out in front, this is our game to lose.” And then things start to unravel…because they stop playing to win, and start playing not-to-lose.

When we start playing not-to-lose, we get tight, we try to avoid mistakes, and we focus our attention on what can go wrong. Every bad break or minor goof-up becomes evidence that victory is slipping away. This, of course, leads us to be more anxious, less confident and ultimately defeated.

The terrible irony of playing not-to-lose is that it virtually guarantees that you will, in fact, lose. This could be something as small as choking on the 18th hole of a golf match. It could also be spending 25 years in a soul-sucking career. 

I see this commonly in high-achieving individuals (including myself) that seem to regularly bump up against some sort of glass ceiling. They go out into the world, launch into an endeavor, execute like crazy, and before long, they’re having success. At some point, they get a glimpse of the “scoreboard”, realize that things are working, and the whole dynamic starts to shift. You’ve probably heard this referred to as Imposter Syndrome or Self-Sabotage. Some even call it Fear of Success, which is a term I especially dislike because I don’t think that’s what is really happening. 

We’re not afraid of being successful. We’re afraid of losing whatever level of success we’ve already attained. We decide to forego an opportunity to move forward because we’re worried that we might end up going backward. It’s just good ole fashioned loss aversion. When we started our lives as kids with practically nothing, we were totally free to dream big, follow our curiosity, and aspire to something special. But once we’ve built up a nice little stack of chips, be it money or reputation, we now have something to lose. We know that continuing to move forward requires us to keep those chips on the table and put them at risk. We also know that whatever comes next will likely be more difficult than what has come before. The competition will be more fierce, the stage will be bigger, the expectations will get higher…and that is scary. 

While this is all perfectly rational, it is no way to go through life. Sure, we need to accept that striving, competing, and otherwise putting ourselves out there comes with risks. That part is straightforward. What we often fail to account for is the cost of inaction. What are we risking by staying put or holding back? Life is short, and as far as I know, we only get to play once, so it seems like we should probably play to win!

“Play to win, but enjoy the fun. ”

— David Ogilvy

Playing to win doesn’t require us to take wild chances and totally throw caution to the wind. It simply demands that when life requires us to take a gamble, we bet on ourselves. And why wouldn’t we? We got here for a reason (probably several reasons) and there is every likelihood that we’ll continue to succeed. If you look at your life critically, the evidence will almost certainly suggest that you’re far more likely to progress than regress. So rather than waiting for the scales to rebalance or the “other shoe to drop”, let’s reject that entire mindset and ask ourselves a basic question: If I move in this direction, what’s the best that could happen? 

By shifting our focus to the very real opportunities and possibilities ahead of us, we can tap into the positive energy that got us here in the first place. We can build on the momentum that we’ve already created, lean on the confidence that we’ve earned along the way, and pursue the life and work that we truly want. Playing to win gives us permission to imagine something amazing. We can turn our wins into blowouts and championships into dynasties. And perhaps more importantly, we can shake off a bad game (or season) as a necessary part of the process rather than a sign of impending collapse. We can play hungry without playing scared.  

Finally, it is important to note that Playing to Win is not the blind pursuit of “more”. I love the metaphor, but I realize that “winning” is a loaded term and very tricky to define. Maybe we can think of it as the pursuit of better? It is so personal and unique to each of us. I personally keep coming back to the concept of alignment - playing to win means working and living in a way that aligns with my actual values, priorities, and desires. If I’m wrestling with a decision or start to feel myself getting tight, I just ask myself, “What would playing to win look like here?”

We can do this together. I’m convinced that our companies and communities would be much better off if they were full of people that were playing to win. So let’s start placing some bets on ourselves and our teammates. What’s the best that could happen?

PS - If this blog hasn’t convinced you to play to win, maybe this classic rant from the legendary Herman Edwards will.

The Trouble With Transparency

Transparency. Everybody wants it. Some people believe it. Not everybody is ready for it. It’s important and complicated because there’s much more going on than the reasonable request for transparency. And that’s the trouble with transparency.

Countless articles and studies demonstrate the value of transparency within relationships. Transparency generates trust, strengthens bonds, promotes accountability, and often increases profitability. Transparency is great! 

Unless it’s not. 

In the summer of 2003, Charlie Company 2/75 Ranger Regiment had been stuck in Afghanistan, covering a second rotation in a row. We were stuck because the war started in Iraq while we were already in Afghanistan, and it didn't make sense to relieve us…just to redeploy us. Instead, a company from our sister Battalion (3/75) went to Iraq, and we covered their rotation in Afghanistan. After getting extended two months in a row, we hoped to get good news when we heard the “big boss” was coming to see us. 

The Colonel was coming to Asadabad. Our Regimental Commander (RCO), Colonel Joe Votel (who would later retire as a 4-star General and command US Central Command), was flying out with the Regimental Sergeant Major (RSM), Hugh Roberts. These guys are Legends of the 75th, and surely they wouldn’t come all the way from Bagram unless they had good news. Our platoon needed good news. We had been in Asadabad, near the Pakistan border, for ten straight weeks. The pace, the frustration, and the makeshift showers that electrocuted us were all far past old by that time. 

We waited eagerly and were rewarded. The RCO and RSM brought all the boys into the Joint Operations Center (JOC), sat us down, and shot it straight to us. They thanked us for our hard work. They congratulated us for maintaining a high op-tempo. And they said the words we all longed to hear: “You’re going home!” We all returned to our hooches a little lighter that night. The incoming rockets and mortars couldn't even bring us down. We were finally going home! 

That night General Votel got a late call from Kabul. Our higher command, the “Big Big boss,” decided we would stay another month. The reason escapes me, but it really doesn't matter 20 years later. It really didn't matter to us the next morning either. What mattered was how General Votel handled it. He brought us all back together in the JOC the next morning, sat us down, and was transparent. “I’m sorry, men. You’ll be staying another month…at least. We’ve been extended by Command in Kabul.” 

The words hung in the air and were met by a Ranger rarity - silence.  

Later that day, I remember General Votel waiting for his helicopter back to Bagram. He sat on a makeshift picnic bench, alone—another rarity. Whenever the RCO was around, the boys were always happy to tell him how it was! Not this time. 

I’ve never seen such a lonely Ranger in my life. 

Donnie Boyer and I sat with Hugh Roberts on another makeshift bench. “He’s pretty upset, men. He feels like dirt.” He said in his thick Brooklyn accent. We believed him. “This was not the plan.” We understood. “Hey, Rangers! We drive on!” 

We couldn't argue. We could complain, but it wouldn’t have made a difference. I was furious that we got extended again. I would miss my son’s first birthday after already missing his birth the year before. But I just couldn’t be mad at the lonely RCO or the RSM. They did all we could expect. They were transparent with us. They were honest. I just didn't like what they had to say. 

We can all relate. 

We cry for transparency. We expect transparency. Sometimes we demand transparency. And sometimes we get what we asked for and don't like it. But not liking the truth doesn’t make it any less truthful. It also doesn’t make the leader any less trustworthy. In fact, it makes them more trustworthy because they are courageous enough to tell it to you straight. 

We see the transparency trap playing out in teams across the country. Leaders share their frustrations with us that their people don’t respond when they give it. Employees share with us their frustrations that their leaders aren’t transparent enough. That is true in some cases, but to be honest, not often with the leaders we get to serve. The leaders we serve give their best - imperfectly, yet in earnest, just like their employees. 

“Truth is like the sun. You can shut it out for a time, but it ain’t goin’ away.”

— Elvis Presley

Employees cry for transparency, while leaders cry for performance. In reality, both want the same thing - trust. The problem is we cannot simply snap our fingers and create trust. And because there is no shortcut to relationship, it’s worth examining the transparency-trust paradigm from the employee and the leader perspectives. 

Here are a few observations about why employees struggle at times with leader transparency:

• Expectations Mismatch: the employee's expectations are not met. Our expectations are a natural extension of our experiences. Many employees have experienced a lack of transparency, so they are skeptical of its merits when confronted with it. Also, many employees have experienced layoffs in the past, so when a leader says, “No more layoffs,” they tend to respond skeptically. 

• Negative Impact: the revealed truth has material consequences. Reductions in force, layoffs, poor performance, the list goes on. Sometimes the leader has to break it to the team, and it’s not good. But it is true. When this happens, employees are often impacted with more labor, less help, and more uncertainty. 

• Direction Disagreement: the leader has made a decision that the employee disagrees with. This happens A LOT. Most leaders gain information from various sources within the organization. They develop a common operating picture to make decisions from. And though employees appreciate the chance to be heard, if we’re all being honest, we want our own heards to be more heard than others’ heards. Sometimes the decision just doesn’t fall our way. 

• We Don’t Like It: There. I said it. Sometimes we just don't like it. Hell - I didn't like getting extended in Afghanistan. Stop wasting valuable time and brain power litigating reality and just own it. To quote Sam Elliott, “Sometimes you eat the bar…and sometimes the bar eats you!”

Here are a few observations about why leaders struggle at times with transparency:

• Oversharing: Sharing details (often when they are yet to be fully understood and are still developing) creates an undue amount of uncertainty and anxiety within the organization. Information changes fast and often in many environments, and oversharing can create a sense of aimlessness or lack of mission clarity that stalls execution.

• Speculation: Sometimes leaders just don’t know the answer to a question or the direction for a program or initiative yet. Saying, “I don’t know, but I’ll get back to you,” used to be a sign of strength. Now it’s an invitation for skepticism and resentment. The last three decades of leadership failures at all levels of society have justified that cultural skepticism.

• Appropriate Confidentiality: Sharing certain information may be either unethical (like the details of an employee termination) or inappropriate (like individual compensation details). A prospective partnership, innovation, or advancement might also be placed in jeopardy resulting in practical harm to the business. Additionally, the leader might be operating under a Non-Disclosure Agreement or is bound by their supervisor to hold information. 

• Inefficiencies: It just slows everything down. In large organizations, leaders cannot speak to every employee, though that expectation has been fostered in the workplace. Also, sometimes there’s really nothing more to the job than the job - the tasks do not require discussion.

Having been on both sides of the transparency-trust conversation, we understand the feelings involved. We all have to take some responsibility in these relationships. Leaders need to speak clearly and appropriately. There are nearly always elements that cannot be shared at the time - say that. It sounds like, " I cannot share those specific details at this time, but once I can, I will share it.” And we need to follow through. Teammates need to own their share of the equation and assume good intentions if this is going to work. If we want our leaders' transparency, we must do our part to trust them. 

Finally, if you aren’t sure whether your leadership is trustworthy, give them a chance to prove it to you, but don’t operate as if they’ve already proven that they have not. And if you’ve already determined that you cannot trust your leadership, then leaving might be a good option for you. But asking for more transparency is not.

Both Eyes Open

In the SOF world, we have an expression, “admire your work through your sites.” It means to keep looking through your weapon’s optic as you engage a threat. For every shot you take, there must always be two site pictures, one before the shot and one after. We use this discipline to ensure that our weapon, our site picture, and our focus remains on the threat until the threat no longer remains. 

When doing this, we look through a tube on the top of our weapon while keeping both eyes open to ensure depth perception and peripheral vision. The peripheral enables the identification of other threats, but the focus remains on the target. 

This illustration relates to many other aspects of life and leadership. We tend to focus on the most critical problems at any given time until that problem is reduced. These may come in the form of obstacles to progress, delays in delivery, and personnel disruptions to our business. Those personnel disruptions often become the most pressing issue. In times like this, we must remember that people are not problems. Problems are problems. People are people. When we view people as problems, we can slip into viewing them as threats and get fixated down our sites. 

There are a few dangers to this approach. First, we stop viewing people as anything more than threats that need to be eliminated. Second, we keep “reacquiring site pictures” on the person instead of the problem. And finally, we live through the optic tube and miss the bigger picture going on around us. We must be disciplined to “lower our weapons,” just like we do in the SOF world. 

In the SOF world, we train to reduce the threat and then lower our weapons to just below our line of site. This allows us to see the situation around us more clearly. To see important features of the room, the situation, and the people we interact with. Without lowering our weapons and seeing the full frame, we can miss important details that inform rapid decision-making in high-stress environments. Of note, we cannot more accurately look at the hands of those who we come across to identify whether they are combatants or noncombatants. And in the heat of the moment, if we are solely looking through our optics, everyone’s a combatant. 

But everyone is not a combatant–not in combat and not in our companies. 

We also tend to miss our teammates while being over-fixated on our obstacles. We fail to see where they are in relation to the mission and the obstacle. We fail to check how they are as we progress toward our goals. And we fail to acknowledge that we are not alone on the objective. If you are a leader, by definition, you are not alone. But beware, over-fixation will turn you into a lone gunman on a team mission. I’ve been there. So over-fixated and jacked up that I was the only one in the room because I’d left my team in the hallway. 

Are you getting the application to life and leadership? When dealing with a threat, admire your work through your sites until the work is done, but don’t get so fixated on your targets that you live life through your optics. Your fixation will degrade your situational awareness, and you’ll miss your mission, your people, and your purpose. 

Salespeople: Stop Being Professional Visitors!

The difference between knowing what it takes to be successful and being successful is the execution that leads to consistently achieving your goals. And though I consistently achieved in the Army, after I left the Army, I didn’t achieve my goal until my third year in sales.  

I was what the Army called a “fast tracker,” meaning I was significantly ahead of the rest of the Soldiers in the Army who entered basic training at the same time I did. I had been in the Army for only a year when I returned to Ft. Benning for Ranger school with a slew of other “Batt. Boys” (Privates from the 75th Ranger Regiment), though the rest of the class was composed of officers and NCOs. 

By year seven, I was picked up for E-7 (Sergeant First Class) by the Department of the Army at my first look. By year nine, I had all the chest candy a fella could want - Combat Infantryman’s Badge, Master Parachutist wings with a mustard stain, Pathfinder badge, Ranger tab, and a 2nd Ranger Battalion combat scroll. All of this meant that I could walk into any room of Soldiers and hold my own without saying a word. My uniform reflected the success of achieving my goals year after year. 

Achievements are written all over your uniform in the military. But the business world is different. In the business world, you can look the part without being the part. When I transitioned, I wore nice suits, had a nice title, handed out business cards, used the corporate AMEX like a pro, and was armed with enough buzzwords to hold a conversation. 

It’s not that hard to look successful in the real world, but it’s really hard to succeed. 

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), sales is like the military in that there is a clear indicator of achievement - hitting your number. You can be the smartest, the most product educated, or the most collegial professional on the team, but what truly matters is how you perform toward your sales goal. The difference between knowing what it takes to be successful in sales and being a successful sales professional is consistently hitting your number. You either do or you don’t. 

I missed my number in my first two years in sales. I had to learn to be the part, not just look the part. I had to learn how to achieve in the business world, drawing upon my success from the service, though respecting that those successes were in the past, just like my fancy uniform. After those two years, I experienced something I had not experienced before in my life: I quit. I actually tried to go back to the war even though I didn’t want to, but that path was unexpectedly cut short. So I tried sales for another year. But I had to get my mind right to make it. 

My problem wasn’t that I didn’t know how to sell or believe in the product. My problem was entirely me. I wasn’t motivated to be a sales professional, and my efforts were lacking as a result. 

I lacked the right motivation because I didn’t want to be a yucky salesman. And I didn’t want to be seen as one. I really liked being liked by my customers and prospects, so I didn’t want to jeopardize that by offending someone because I asked for the business. Week after week, I would work my territory, visiting many prospects and closing modest deals here and there. For the most part, I never really took a run at making the hard asks. All because I had so much baggage about being a salesman. I had accomplished that aim, though. I was not a yucky salesman, but I also wasn’t a sales professional - I was a professional visitor. 

And I am here to tell you that this is a common problem we see across sales organizations, from Fortune 500 companies to small businesses. Many salespeople look the part but aren’t playing their part. Often, they aren’t hitting their numbers because they lack the right motivation, and they don’t know how to close or how to identify the right close for each call. 

I failed my first two years in sales because I allowed the specter of being yucky to keep me from closing. I knew the moves, and I could do the moves, but I wasn’t giving it my full effort or putting myself in the position to win or lose. I was on the ice, wearing the jersey, but I wasn’t taking any shots, so I was neither missing, nor making them. 

I could see the shots, but wasn’t taking them. 

I knew how to succeed but wasn’t successful. 

I looked the part, but I wasn’t playing my part.

And while only part of the conditions were under my control, lamenting about them and focusing on anything other than my efforts is making excuses. No one excuses their way into growth. Owning our losses on our ledgers teaches us how to win the next game far more than chalking it up to the conditions of the territory (or in military parlance, the grader who screwed you out of your patrol in Ranger School). You either earn your Ranger tab, or you don’t. You either hit your number or you don’t. The only difference between the Army and the business world is that your uniform shows the results. 

There are many ineffective salespeople out in the world today. And while that may seem harsh, it’s intended to inspire action, not shame. I get it. I know what it’s like to look the part in the business world, yet know inside that I wasn’t doing my part. I was fortunate to have leaders who were willing to have difficult conversations with me and develop me. They were also willing to invest in me and support me. Halfway through my second year in sales, my leadership determined that the expansion territory I had been hired to develop was a bust and offered me the opportunity to transfer from Alabama to Colorado.

Returning to the West was a blessing for my career and my family. But it wasn’t an automatic ticket to success. There are no automatic successes in life. I had to come to grips with my failures and my lack of execution in my previous territory. I had to fix my motivation, jettison the specter of being a yucky salesman, and commit to being a sales professional. And I had to identify my closing problem. I was afraid to ask for the business. I was afraid because I was saddled by my aversion to bad salesmen and because at that time in my life, I was more motivated by feeling liked by someone (anyone) than by winning. 

Where are you at today in your role? Are you playing your part right now? If so, excellent! Pass this on to someone you know who could use it. If not, why not? 

Perhaps your motivation is off? Ask yourself this: what is my role? What is my goal? And what are my rewards for hitting them? Then follow up by asking if your personal capabilities, needs, and wants match up to them. 

And finally, if you are scared to ask for the business, name it. I was. I was scared to be yucky and so wanted to be liked. Until I learned something so profound and important - everybody knows why you are there. If you are a sales professional, everybody knows you are there to represent your product or service. There is no mystery involved. So do yourself, your prospect, and your company a favor - represent your product or service. Be a sales professional, not a professional visitor. 

It's Always Darkest Before The Dawn

Pain is temporary, pride is forever. Warfighters and athletes use this refrain to keep going when the pain is at its worst. When your muscles are burning, your heart is pounding in your eardrums, you’re shivering from the cold, and all you want to do is quit. But you won’t. You can’t because the mission is greater than the moment. The pain of the moment is temporary. The pride in accomplishing the mission lasts forever. 

I remember long, miserable foot marches. In the Rangers, we had to “qualify” every year on a 30-mile road march carrying combat equipment. Why 30 miles? Because the other units down the road did 25 miles, and our creed demanded that we would go “further, faster, and fight harder than any other Soldier.” On those long miserable nights, we would say, “We DO have helicopters, right?” Right. Yet on we walked. Together. 

Or the countless nights shivering myself to sleep in a patrol base, hidden from an imaginary enemy in some forgotten backwood or desert. Basically, most of my military experience was spent shivering. I hated it. Every moment of the miserable cold, which included learning what “spooning” meant when my Ranger Buddy pulled me over and wrapped his arms around me during the Pre-Ranger School program. “We DO have sleeping bags, right?” Right. Yet we shivered on. Together. 

Courtesy of the Ranger Assessment and Selection Program, 75th Ranger Regiment, @75th_rasp

Or those bone-crushing PT sessions that seemed like they would never end. One time we had a platoon competition where the Battalion placed a bunker on one end of a field and timed us to move the bunker to the other end. Call it 300, 30 lb. sandbags and a platoon of 40 Rangers competing against every other platoon in the Battalion. It was a grunting, cussing moshpit shuttle run with sandbags. And it hurt. A lot. “We DO have forklifts in the Army, right?” Right. Yet we suffered on. Together. 

Why? 

Because we train as we fight, and to fight a determined enemy, we need to be more determined and more willing to go the distance when it matters most. The same can be said when facing an obstacle that stands in the way of accomplishing our goals. The option to give up is always most pressing when we are the furthest distance from the start, at the extent of our endurance, and close to the inflection point when the tide turns our way. It’s a dicey moment that we must choose to make us instead of break us. When our “F@#k it!” gets closer to “F@#k THIS!” the way through is towards purpose. Together. 

Courtesy of Ranger Assessment and Selection Program, 75th Ranger Regiment, @75th_rasp

Before Morning Nautical Twilight (BMNT) is 30 minutes before sunrise when the sun begins to peak over the Eastern horizon, and the stars “go away.” The temperature drops 3-5° making it the coldest part of the day. Just before BMNT is the point when it has been darkest the longest. If you’ve been out all night, this marks the point when you've been shivering the longest and miserable the longest. It’s a low that gets lower when the temperature drops that extra 3-5°. And it is often the moment when we are most ready to give up. 

Hold on. Hold on to why you started in the first place, and hold on to one another. No adversity lasts forever, but a character forged to persevere through the pain does. Because pain is temporary, pride is forever. 

The Cost of Tolerance

I once believed I had to have an opinion about everything. I remember feeling like it was a moral responsibility. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that isn’t true, and that the cost of an opinion is sometimes greater than the gain. 

Back in the pre-war days, I was selected to compete in the NCO of the Year board at the 2nd Ranger Battalion. I sat before the Company's First Sergeants and the Command Sergeant Major. I was asked a series of questions that spanned technical data to obscure factoids and military history through current events. I was doing well and could see my First Sergeant smiling brightly until we got to the current events. 

“Sergeant Young, tell us what you think about NASA and their current projects?” The Sergeant Major said. 

“Frankly, I think it’s bullshit that these guys are spending billions of dollars on launching rockets into space, but I can’t even get one of my Privates a new Assault Pack, Sergeant Major!” I said. A pretty strong opinion that wasn’t exactly well-informed!

My First Sergeant stopped smiling. 

I didn’t win NCO of the Year. 

We are often encouraged to pick a side on a decision or an issue, which is mostly a false dichotomy between affirmation and condemnation. But how we choose to respond more realistically occurs on a gradient of indifference, acceptance, and tolerance. Tolerance is the most costly of all. 

Indifference implies avoiding what is before us. Human beings are complex creatures - mind, body, and soul. Indifference forces us to disconnect those parts from one another and lose the ability to fully engage in our work and relationships. Indifference is a tough way to live. It leads to checking the boxes instead of doing the real work. It’s the person who sits at the table without contributing to the process or solving any problems. We had a term for those people in the Army. We called them “slot burners.” Slot burners took a seat in a course without doing the work; they failed the course, while others who were hungry to do the work never got the chance. When you are competing for opportunities to grow in your profession, the slot burners sure make it hard.  

Acceptance implies taking what is before us as it is. This is critical for team dynamics and alignment. Decisions have to be made in a timely manner for organizations to be effective. And there are always tradeoffs that must be considered. When a decision is made, we must accept it and drive on if we intend to remain a part of the team. Where we often find misunderstanding is in the relationship between acceptance and agreement. Acceptance does not mean agreement. Agreement is harmony of opinion. We can accept something without agreeing with it. I accept the fact that we withdrew from Afghanistan in 2021. I disagree with how it was conducted. 

Acceptance enables alignment within teams, and we can have alignment without agreement because alignment is harmony of effort. A true professional is a person who accepts the decision–whether they agree or disagree–and yet still aligns their efforts to the team’s needs. As leaders, we need to get comfortable with alignment over agreement because people are smart. People know when they are being manipulated, and when they are being told they must agree with something or pay the price for dissension. While we would all love to have agreement, we must be willing to settle for alignment if we hope to attain effectiveness as teams, organizations, and communities. 

Tolerance implies putting up with what is before us, which suggests that a judgment has been leveled. While acceptance allows us to move on, tolerance requires us to hold on. Holding on is costly. There is an emotional and mental toll. We fixate on looking for anything that conflicts with our firmly-held opinions and we get stuck. Getting stuck is comparable to an exhausted five-year-old who insists on having the cookie instead of eating their dinner after a long day at Disney. Everyone at the table suffers, and eventually, the child crashes, with or without dinner, because tolerance is limited. 

The costs always overcome the circumstances. Tolerance costs relationships. Tolerance costs engagement. Tolerance costs alignment. Tolerance costs performance. Tolerance costs enormous amounts of energy and activity to deal with. On the other hand, acceptance releases our focus from the situation and directs our energy towards what we can control. We can still have an opinion on the matter, but we can choose to hold it, and subordinate that perspective to the greater good of the team and our shared objectives. We simply cannot die on every hilltop. And we simply cannot avoid our reality through indifference and expect positive outcomes. 

““You always own the option of having no opinion. There is never any need to get worked up or to trouble your soul about things you can’t control. These things are not asking to be judged by you. Leave them alone.””

— Marcus Aurelius

What are you tolerating right now, and what is it costing you? Is there something you remain indifferent to that could use your attention? What must you accept today, whether you agree with it or not?  

What I Learned in Grad School

Last month I graduated from Denver Seminary’s Master of Divinity - Leadership program and have been reflecting upon the experience ever since. Family and friends gathered with us to celebrate, and the two most commonly asked questions were: “What did you learn?” and “What’s next?” I am thankful for the opportunity to breathe, reflect, and share some lessons learned. 

Grad school is hard. And if you’re going to do hard things, you best have a reason. My first semester of Hebrew was a shock to the system, and I wondered if I was going to make it. In my second Hebrew semester (during COVID-19), four hours into my final exam, I hung my head and wept while Elliot rubbed my back. I thought Army Pathfinder School was hard, but this was graduate-level, brain-breaking hard! I asked myself, “Why am I doing this?” I was routinely reminded of the answer: God called me to DenSem - walk in faith. 

Brandon, with his wife Kelly, and daughter Elli.

No one achieves anything worthwhile alone. My family, friends, mentors, and professors supported me. Kelly reminded me of my commitment when I wanted to take a semester off. Will and Tim encouraged me when I needed it most. Joey, Knut, Eva, Angie, and Ryan challenged me when I needed to go further and gave me grace when I needed to be content. Blayne carried the tripod when I was smoked.  

Driving on taught me a valuable lesson in the midst of the struggle: Never, ever quit. Though I learned this many times in the Army Rangers, it’s a lesson we must routinely relearn to achieve great things. It would be easy to rest on my Army credentials at this stage in life. It would also be lazy. When I left the Army, I wanted to challenge my mind in ways the Army no longer could. Graduate school has achieved that objective, just as sales, nonprofit leadership, and growing a startup have in other seasons of my life. 

It’s all Greek….

And though I didn’t give up, I did learn to let go of non-essentials that did not align with my goals. Last summer, I registered for a course in Spiritual Direction as an elective. I did not realize it was a four-class certification track until I began. At the time of my graduation, I still had two more classes to go. The last thing I wanted to do was graduate on May 20th and start another 5-day intensive on May 22nd. I could do it, but I needed to examine whether I should do it. Thanks to the guidance of my supervisors, professors, and the Holy Spirit, I felt released from the rest of the program. I never intended to be a certified spiritual director. Letting this go and embracing the joy of completion was critical for me. Not coincidentally, withdrawing left me with a week blocked off work I used to respond to a Ranger Buddy in crisis. Funny how that works, isn’t it? Almost coincidental, but not. 

I also learned to be less certain about most matters, yet certain about the few things that matter most. I often joke that a more appropriate name for my program might be a Master's Degree in “I’m Not Sure”…but I don’t think that sells very well on the course catalog! At the very least, I recommend a rebrand to Mastered by the Divine! I digress. For just about any topic under the sun, there are a host of conflicting perspectives articulated by earnest and thoughtful people. Most of them can level solid support for their views. The task is to hold these perspectives in tension, sit in the nuance, examine the evidence faithfully, and then determine the most rational, verified, and convincing position. I am far more apt to investigate conflicting views today than ever because Denver Seminary taught me how to think, not what to think. 

Though I’ve experienced other programs with the same stated objective, no other program has honed my critical thinking skills as much as the Denver Seminary Master of Divinity program. DenSem is committed to a concept called charitable orthodoxy, which means that “We are people of the Faith, committed to the great core confessions that have defined Christianity for centuries…[and]...we engage in gracious and serious conversations about many different areas of faith and life.” The commitment to charitable orthodoxy taught me a lot about faithfully and graciously following Jesus while examining various perspectives, positions, and truth claims in a pluralistic society. I am a better man for it. I used to be certain about just about everything. Now I am only certain about the very few things that truly matter.

I also learned practical stuff, like how to speed read and find the essentials of any book. I learned how to write for distance with clarity. I learned how to write in Turabian style. I learned how to read Hebrew and Greek. I learned much about God, faith, the bible, and Christianity. I wrote nearly 1,000 pages representing a fraction of a speck of the scholarship related to God and leadership that has amassed over the last five millennia. And while pouring over the millennia of scholarship, I learned that wisdom is greater than knowledge, that new information is not greater than ancient wisdom, and that applying the wisdom of the ages to modern life leads to understanding. 

Finally, I learned that I am smart. I felt less than for much of my life. I felt like I had something to prove. I knew that I was smart, but I never felt smart. Today, I feel smart for the first time in my life, and I am humbled by how little I truly know. 

So, what’s next? I left my last job in 2019 with no plan. It was a toxic leadership environment, and I knew I needed to move on. That winter, I applied to Denver Seminary, and shortly after that, Blayne and I started Applied Leadership Partners. I was an oddball at Seminary because I was one of the only students not serving in vocational ministry. Yet I was embraced and encouraged to consistently explore how our studies applied to the world in which I live and worked. You are hard-pressed to find a more complete Academic Leadership Program than the one built by Tim Koller, Ph.D. Every bit of my coursework has influenced our work at Applied Leadership Partners. As a result, I am a better coach, guide, and mentor. I am a far better leader. 

Moving forward, I will keep learning, growing, and serving great leaders doing great things in the world with great people. Oh! And I intend to read some good old-fashioned fiction; I’ve already started cleansing my brain palette with “A Fighting Man of Mars,” book seven of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ John Carter series! 

Anybody got any recommendations? 

The Danger in Keeping Our Options Open

Our world today is full of options. We can choose from 30 different kinds of orange juice, a million shows on Netflix, and virtually limitless ways to spend our time. I suppose that makes us fortunate, and it’s worth acknowledging the incredible abundance that most of us enjoy. But I’m not sure that it is making our lives or our businesses any better. All of these choices come at a cost, and perhaps a much bigger one than you think.  

Because as much as the world is full of options, it is also full of uncertainty. We’re not sure what things will look like in the future, or even how we’ll feel. Often, when faced with so many choices, we simply decide to make no decision at all. We keep our options open. We wait for better information. We wait for the perfect option to show up - or at least for some of them to fall away so that the decision is made for us.  

Big decisions make us nervous because we might not be happy with it tomorrow or next week or next year. What if we chose poorly? What if something better comes along? We are terrified of, and often paralyzed by the idea of giving up our precious optionality. And it’s not because we’re afraid of the option that we DO choose. Our fear is all about what we might miss out on. That’s right, our FOMO is what’s holding us back, because we know that by taking one option, we’re passing on so many others. But here is the thing, we will never be able to do everything. And if we don’t accept that we can’t do everything, we’ll end up doing nothing. 

There is no inherent value in optionality. None. 

All of the value resides within the options themselves, and none of that value is actually captured until an option is exercised...and the optionality goes away. 

It’s only when we choose to invest our time and energy that we can start seeing returns. Compounding is the most powerful force in the universe, but you cannot benefit from its power if you’re not invested. Be it a stock, a business, a skill, or a relationship, time under tension really matters. We can’t just wait for something (or someone) great to come along, we have to choose a path and make it great. 

• What’s the best training plan to help you get strong? The one you follow. 

• Best nutrition plan for maintaining a healthy weight? The one you can stick with.

• Best investment strategy for retirement savings? The one you commit to for 30 years.

• Best school district for your kids? The one you actively participate in. 

You get it.

The danger is not in making the wrong choice, and it’s not in passing up an amazing opportunity. The danger is in failing to commit. We have the power to make almost anything great if we commit to it and take care of it.

We sometimes fool ourselves into thinking that half-stepping or half-assing our way through life’s difficult decisions will protect us from disappointment or heartbreak or looking foolish. We think it won’t hurt so bad if it was only a half-hearted attempt. Right? That’s wrong. Nothing hurts worse than wondering how things might have worked out if we’d only done it wholeheartedly. 

Maybe you’re familiar with the term “plan shopping”? You know, like when a friend invites you to a party and you tell him, “yeah, sounds fun, maybe I’ll stop by”, because not-so-secretly you’re wondering if something better might come along. We’ve all done it. And we all should stop, because in addition to it being inconsiderate, it prevents us from really engaging with the people and activities that make life great. Our obsession with keeping our options open is robbing us of the ability to enjoy and appreciate what we have - which for most of us, is a lot. 

To be clear, I’m not talking about blindly picking a path nor dogmatically sticking to it. We should take some time to identify and consider our options. And we should feel free to change course when things are truly out of whack. What I am saying is that we should make the best decision we can and give it our best shot. Because if you really want to have great options, you should be the kind of person that consistently does your best...right where your feet are. 

Memorial Day: Remembering Our Fallen

This piece was posted on ALP’s blog on May 24, 2020, and originally published in The Havok Journal on May 29, 2017.

I remember them, all of them. Every day. I don’t live for them, I could never do this justice. I cannot hold myself to any expectation worthy of their sacrifice because I could never earn what they willingly gave. Nobody can. Nobody ever could.

We cannot live for them. But we can live.

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends” John 15:13 ESV. These words, spoken millennia ago by Jesus of Nazareth are often echoed when we recall the memories of our fallen. When we recount their sacrifices. A powerful statement that projects what they gave, born of love in the purest. The part we routinely forget, though, is the preceding statement delivering the most powerful, actionable and clear sentiment in the very same scripture.

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you” John 15:12.

I will not live for my fallen brothers, I will live with them. I will love others, as I have been loved. Give an empathetic ear to the hurting, walk with the lost, and care for those in need. As best I can in my limited capacity. 

This Memorial Day, I will not drown myself in alcohol, isolate myself from my family and my community or punish myself for not following them into eternity too soon. How could I remember them so? That is not the love they gave for me. Nor is it the love Jesus displayed in His often-quoted sentiment.

I could never forget them, they are my friends, they are my brothers.

Lou Olivera...I miss him so much. This one hurts deep. One winter Lou and I hiked Mount Falcon together weekly. We talked about Rangering, a little, but mostly we talked about life, our families, faith, hope, business, our community and brotherhood. We had so much in common. Difficult childhoods that propelled us into the Army. We both had daughters about the same age. We both worked to serve veterans in the nonprofit sector after successful business careers. We were both hard charging NCO’s in 2/75, though more than a decade apart. I went to war in Afghanistan, Lou went to war in Panama when I was 10. 

Every month Lou and our group of Ranger families would have dinner, go hiking, see concerts, go for runs, and do life together. It just hasn’t been the same without him. 

Lou Olivera, Founder of the Honor Bell Foundation.

On December 23, 1989 he jumpmastered a bird of Rangers into Rio Hato Drop Zone. Upon hitting the drop zone, he was mortally wounded. The enemy left him for dead, but Lou survived. Lou came home, recovered, contributed to the Army through NATIC Labs, went to Grad School, built businesses, founded The Honor Bell, but more importantly, he created a beautiful family. After fighting his demons since that night in Panama, Lou finally lost the battle and took his life in 2018. 

Sometimes only parts of us come back from war. Truth is, we lost Lou well before I ever got the chance to meet him. While I cannot imagine the pain he endured for nearly 30 years, I only attest that the parts that came home were worth a thousand great men. And that I will forever thank God that I was called “brother” by my hero. 

Dave McDowell and his Ranger Buddy, Jake, welcomed me, always. I came home to A Co. 2/75 from Ranger School 155 lbs. soaking wet in 1999. Before my week of rest and recovery, I was required to zero my M240B and qualify, so I met the C Co. maggots in the parking lot at dusk, ready to jump on the trucks and head out. Even though I was an “A Co. guy”, Dave welcomed me with that big smile and I rolled out with new brothers. Years later, he would meet me at the C Co. CQ desk and welcome me, again. I was a new Madslasher, the platoon he grew up in. Open arms, warmly embracing his brother.

He used to laugh, but he used to make us all laugh. When we were Pre-Ranger Cadre together out at Cole Range, he’d zip around on the quad, smiling. A mountain of a man with his little MICH helmet and Oakley’s, we likened him to a circus bear on a tricycle. When I committed to the Best Ranger Competition (BRC), he was there for us. Any range, any training, anything we needed to be successful, that’s the kind of man Dave was. He used to say, “I’m not doing Best Ranger, but you guys are and I’m going to do whatever it takes to help you be successful!” It was one of the best showing of any 75th Ranger Regiment BRC team, placing 1st, 3rd, 7th, 8th and 9th out of 15 finishing teams. I remember Dave. Man, how we laughed together.

Dave McDowell (green shirt) and Ranger Buddies post 2006 Best Ranger Competition.

Lance Vogeler was on that very same 2006 75th Ranger Regiment BRC team. He was so upset when he didn’t finish, having sustained an injury during training that forced him to withdraw from the road march. His laughter filled the vans during our months of train up. It never mattered that Lance didn’t finish that year. Lance had the courage to toe the line to begin with. His attempt was a success at its’ onset.

Jay Blessing was a talented artist. He went to Ranger School, as we all did, and found himself struggling in the Mountains, refusing to ever give up. He finally buckled and they discovered that he had been suffering from pneumonia and a collapsed lung. Back home at Ft. Lewis, Jay recovered slowly under the mentorship of Battalion legend and retired Marine, Mr. Ray Fuller, in the Battalion Arms Room. Jay was exceptional at the job. He soaked up every drop of knowledge he could gather from the Legendary Marine and kept the Battalion heavy guns operational.

Jay Blessing. Photo Credit 2/75 Ranger Regiment.

Jay would not accept defeat and returned to Ranger School, grinding through the suck to reach the “Ranger objective”. His body once again rejected the circumstances, but his resolve rejected failure. Jay limped into graduation with yet another case of pneumonia and lung complications and earned his tab. Mission Complete. He was on his way to the Special Forces Qualification Course when we got alerted for the Winter Strike of 2003. Committed to his brothers, Jay deployed becoming the first casualty of the 2nd Ranger Battalion in the Global War on Terror.

Casey Casavant was hysterical. The man with a smile and personality as large as the Big Sky of his home Montana was incapable of a straight face. He was full of belly laughs and cheer. You could always pick out Casey on an airfield or any other objective. He was the one with a 1-Liter bottle of Mountain Dew in his hand. He used to stuff at least two or three into his assault pack or ruck. When Casey and I attended the Primary Leadership Development Course (NCO Education System 1) with our Ranger Buddies, we felt like strangers in a strange land.

The cadre determined that the Rangers needed to allow our fellow “soon to be Sergeants” the opportunity to lead in the field, un-hindered by our experience or personalities. This was a good call. The solution was each of us “Batt. Boys” would serve as the Radio Telephone Operator (RTO) for every platoon in the field for the whole training exercise. This was a bad call. I cannot recall the specifics of the hilarity that ensued each night, but of one thing I am certain: the evenings full of Batt. Boy Radio hour, verbally thrashing each other and our fellow students and hitting pre-determined bump frequencies so as not to be detected by our instructors, was definitely Casey’s idea! I can hear him laughing from the other side of the Company bivouac now.

James Nehl (first on right, Yankees Jersey) and the men of the Blacksheep A Co. 2/75 Ranger, 1998.

James Nehl was another one of my heroes. When I arrived at the Blacksheep, he was the 1st Squad Leader and I was a Maggot under the leadership of his brother-in-law, Daryl. I was always at a slight distance, but James was quiet and strong; the kind of silent confidence that made you want to be better and win his respect. Growing up 3 squads down the hallways I always took notice to James because he was confident, intentional and innovative.

His squad always seemed to be doing something different, trying something new. In hindsight he struck me as a bit shy, but when he laughed, his smile would light up his face and quickly enlist the entire room in the joke. After becoming a young Ranger Leader, my M240B team was attached to James squad, “The Deer Hunters” and I couldn’t have been more elated. Being let into his circle was an honor. I forever wanted to make him proud.

Kris Domeij was one of the most confident young Rangers I had the pleasure to serve with. As his Squad Leader in charge of the maneuver section he was attached to at the beginning of the war he was always technically and tactically proficient. A Forward Observer to be counted on regardless of the circumstance, but more than this, one of the boys regardless of his youth in rank. You couldn’t dislike Kris, he was awesome. During our first deployment, I recall a long patrol in the Lwara Dasta, which left the section completely out of water and burning up in the heat of the desert. The conditions were so bad that one of our Rangers had to be extracted due to severe heat casualty.

Kris Domeij.

Kris would finish the mission. I looked over during a halt to see him finishing off the last drops of his saline I.V. bag. He looked over at me with that rueful smile and big cheeks and merely offered, “I was thirsty, Sergeant”.

“Domeij, you know you just basically downed a canteen of salt water, right?”

His shoulders shrugged off the matter. I shook my head and we moved on. Sometime later, Kris approached me and said, “Uh, can I have a sip of your water, Sergeant, my mouth is as dry as a salt lick!?” Later that mission in a hide site, Kris asked me if he could take off his boots to cool down his feet. “Charlie is doing it…” Our Air Force Enlisted Tactical Air Controller (ETAC). I always see Kris and Charlie in that site together, two larger than life personalities and a combined force to be reckoned with. Exceptional. So talented.

Josh Wheeler had another smile that could light up the darkness. We met during Advance Special Operations Training course held by the Battalion. All of the Squad Leaders from the Battalion rallied for two weeks during one of the most memorable and constructive training session I experienced in the Army. We were, essentially, unleashed in small teams of SSG’s across a myriad of missions. Josh was so humble, so curious. He didn’t care what company anyone was from, he only cared about being better. I admired him so much.

Brian Bradshaw was so similar. I met this young man as his Platoon Instructor during Infantry Basic Officer Leadership Course (IBOLC) at Ft. Benning in 2008. IBOLC is a 13-week cycle to prepare newly commissioned Lieutenants to serve as Platoon Leaders in the Army. Each of my 40-man platoon would leave at the end of our cycle, go to Ranger School and then immediately deploy to combat in Iraq or Afghanistan. I cannot imagine how this must have felt. Brian was sharp, quick and intelligent. He cracked me up with his silly throwback Oakley Razors that I was certain were created before even he was.

Brian Bradshaw (back row, fourth from left) and the men of IBOLC class 501-08.

Scott Dussing. Scott (and his Ranger buddy Shaun and C.J.) were the first Rangers from my squad who successfully completed Ranger School. Scott taught me so much about leadership. Regardless of how much the missions sucked, how hard the PT session was, or how bad he was hurting, his big Texas smile would never fade. Shortly after the towers fell on 9/11, A Co. 2/75 was sent to Jordan for a pre-planned annual training exercise. While we were there, we watched the war kick off with 3/75 jumping into Afghanistan at Objective Rhino. We were downtrodden, feeling like we’d been passed over and missed our chance (oh how little we knew then)! Scott kept smiling. We laughed so hard when he and Shaun got the AC generators going for the tent in the sweltering heat, taking the first blasts of cool air we’d felt in a months for themselves. They dropped to their knees in front of the AC tube and dropped trow, letting the cool air hit their junk while laughing hysterically.

I will always be so proud of you, Scott.

My time with these young men was a capstone to my military service and one of the most special experiences I had in the Army. Amongst a platoon of focused, young leaders, Brian was always one of the platoon mates who would tarry the longest, ask the last questions, gather the last pearls of wisdom from my training partner, Bryan Hart, and me. Only Brian would crack that last joke to cut the atmosphere. He would exhaust me with questions and I loved every minute of it. I just loved that guy.

Love brings us back. Back to the start, back to today. The smiles we see in the dark. The little chuckles and moments we carry to the end. More names pour out in the silence for me: Damian Ficek, Jared Van Aalst, Steve Langmack, Ed Homeyer, Ricardo Barrazza. Men I served with and respected. These names, these people and the thousands of others that will not be lost on my heart.

Today is Memorial Day. A Day to remember and for those of us able, a day to live. Perhaps a day to hike with the family, visit with our neighbors, reconnect with old buddies and remember. Hopefully, we remember with a smile, but I respect that some may do so with the bitter sting of a loss on such a deeply personal level that Gold Star Mother, Scoti Domeij captures in “Dreading Memorial Day”. I simply cannot imagine the loss of a child or a spouse. I also respect that Memorial Day may hold a completely different kind of sting to those who bare the pain of such traumatic loss experienced before their very eyes. Memories of loss seen under violent circumstances.

My heart is with you. Truly. I hope you may know how loved you are by our God and your brothers and sisters. 

Wherever you are today, however you remember, please do not remember alone. Call a friend, call your family or a neighbor. Draw close to someone who loves you, please. If you feel the weight of your loss today in such a way that is so heavy, so profound that it chokes out the love that our brothers and sisters displayed in their sacrifice, please call one of the resources below.

Veterans Crisis Line: 1-800-273-8255 and Press 1

TAPS: 1-800-959-8277

“One for the Airborne Ranger in the Sky”

RLTW,

Brandon Young

This article originally appeared in the Havok Journal.

Words Matter - Use Wisely

There is a trend in business jargon to use therapeutic language - words and phrases that originate in psychology and social work. Over the past few years, I've noticed that as the use of therapeutic language in a business context has increased, so too has my discomfort with it. At this stage, whenever words like heard, safe, and trauma come up in a business setting, I mostly bristle. I wonder if others can relate. It bothers me because I know how invaluable therapeutic language is. Yet, in these settings, it lacks substance, hides meaning, and is—at times—manipulative. 

Therapists use the word heard because it extends agency to the silenced. Like the children I saw at the Tennyson Center who had been horrifically abused and neglected or the veterans I support who have experienced combat trauma. Both share that they have, in some way, ignored or compartmentalized their experiences, leading to a sense of profound shame and guilt that wreaks internal havoc. Therapists extend the invitation to speak and be heard with a purpose. The purpose is to bring into the light what haunts us in the dark to affirm, normalize, and set in motion paths to healing. There is a place to be heard like this; the boardroom is not it. 

Our business meetings are not group therapy sessions, and our businesses are not treatment programs. Businesses exist to serve a purpose for their customers. When our business meetings devolve into quasi-group therapy sessions, we take our focus off the mission and place our focus on our feelings. As a result, we can get lost in our emotions. 

Other times, toxic leaders speak this way to manipulate people. Just because the words “You’ve been heard; I want to make sure you’re heard; everyone here is heard” are used doesn’t mean anybody actually listened. Many times “heard” lacks substance because it lacks follow through. People are smart. They know when they are being patronized. Failure to follow up with understanding and action is a key sign of toxic misappropriation of an otherwise invaluable word. It doesn't mean the organization must incorporate all feedback, but it does mean that all feedback should be accounted for.

- Mandy Patinkin playing Indigo Montoya, The Princess Bride (1987)

Safe is another word. It’s common to hear someone say, “I want you to feel safe, I feel unsafe, or this is a safe space for sharing.” Safety is critical. Every human deserves to be safe from physical, emotional, spiritual, or psychological harm. I have spent the greater majority of my life fighting for the safety of others, primarily by placing myself in harm's way. Every day in Afghanistan, someone was trying to kill us. Every day serving veterans or abused children, I reexperienced my trauma. I ardently support the safety of others and consistently do something about it. 

When used out of context, safety/ unsafe stops all dialogue, delays problem-solving, and halts progress. In a business setting, people work on complex problems with high demands, low resources, and different opinions on success. People have different opinions, but opinions are not an affront to another’s safety. I can understand why this gets confusing. I’ve been in plenty of meetings where someone says something that causes a visceral response inside of me. My heart rate increases, my chest tightens, and my adrenaline surges. These are signs of a fight or flight response, but that doesn't mean I am unsafe. It means something humanity has known since time immemorial - our feelings will lie to us. You probably aren’t unsafe. Uncomfortable? Yes. Irritated? Yes. But not unsafe. We have to stop misnaming this. 

We also have to stop misnaming trauma. “Trauma is an emotional response to a terrible event like an accident, rape, or natural disaster.” When my children were in the 8th and 11th grades, a very sick and dangerous child—who had been in a lockdown mental health facility just months before—walked into their school along with another sick child, shot several children, and killed one. One of the children who was shot was lying right in front of my daughter. That is a terrible event that created lifelong consequences. That is trauma. A layoff is awful, but you can find another job. A disagreement is terrible, but you can still work together. Being uncomfortable in a meeting sucks, but you can gain control of your emotions and get the job done. 

I cringe when people misname trauma or say, “Man, I got PTSD from getting that project across the finish line!” No, you didn’t. Try, "I was frustrated and exhausted after slogging out that project" instead. When we misappropriate the word trauma, we invalidate those who have truly experienced it, which is, in fact, the exact opposite of what therapeutic language intends to achieve.

And that’s really my problem with using therapeutic language in non-therapeutic settings; we are rewriting meaning and rewiring our brains to believe the narrative. That is incredibly dangerous and destructive for those who rely on these advances in psychology—like me—and ineffective for businesses trying to achieve their goals. The consequence of using therapeutic language out of context is that it can fool us into thinking we are doing the real work. The “get in the chair, go to your weekly session and deal with your demons” work. The “cut the crap, stop tap-dancing around your issues” work that therapists are trained and skilled to guide us through. 

Using these terms out of context is a copout to doing the real, complicated people work that gets shit done in the workplace. When we use therapeutic language to mask what we are truly saying, manipulate others, or avoid the hard stuff, we devalue it and disrupt team cohesion. There’s a better way. We can use therapeutic language and techniques as they are intended - to regulate our internal space within our external environment. We can go to therapy in the treatment room and bring our skills into the boardroom. 

When we feel stressed out in a meeting, we can self-regulate. That can look like deep breathing and listening. It could be doodling. It could be using acupressure under the table, or it could be taking a 10-minute break. When we want to solicit feedback within the organization, we can organize measurement and evaluation programs where leaders can share what they gathered, what they understand about it, and what they intend to do about it. All techniques that can build real trust within the team. And when a setback occurs, like a layoff or a failed product launch, we can acknowledge the disappointment, learn from it, and move forward. 

There are many ways that any of those things can be done instead of using therapeutic language out of context. Because if a disagreement is unsafe, discomfort is trauma, all of us need to be heard, then we are seriously screwed when the real world hits. In real life, we don’t always get a voice in a decision, our bosses can be jerks, and our teammates can be unpleasant. How can we expect to persevere in the big things if we cannot express #resilience in the little things?

Why Icebreakers?

Recently, a friend asked me about “Icebreakers” in large group facilitation. She is working with a group that is coming together for the first time (approximately 80 people). A little over half of the members have been around each other for over 5 years, the other half is entirely new. She suggested an icebreaker for the gathering, which garnered mixed reactions. Some committee members were supportive, others ambivalent, and others strongly opposed it. She reached out to ask for some “professional advice” on the matter. I figure, what the heck! I may as well write down some thoughts and share it with everybody! 

Icebreakers, in general, are activities that get people talking, connecting, and attentive in a group session. We don’t do icebreakers for all of our sessions, but we do use them. For our practice, we call them “warm-ups.” It’s our chance to get people settled and ready for the presentation. We’ve all been PowerPoint blasted for hours at a time. Blayne and I dislike those sessions just as much as anybody. For that reason, our warm-ups serve as an invitation and a model. We know that all of the answers to a given team’s questions are already in the room - it’s our job to facilitate an experience that brings out those insights. In order to do that, we have to give people permission to talk and engage. We know that no one wants to be talked at for two hours - we want a dialogue, and to do that, we model a way to genuinely interact. Here’s why.

People often have mixed reactions to group facilitation and “bringing in the consultants.” We know our expectations are a natural extension of our experiences, and there have been some bad experiences. Some have had the “trust fall” exercise, which has become such a ubiquitous joke that you can say those words sarcastically in any facilitated session and be assured you’ll get some laughs. Some people have had the “Two Bobs” from Office Space experience, making them skeptical and suspicious of any outsiders brought in to “help the company.” But some people have also had enjoyable, productive, and informative experiences that helped them grow. That’s what Blayne and I hope for every time. For participants to walk away thinking, “hmmm…I never thought of it that way,” and have some useful resources to help them apply what they learned. We also hope folks walk away feeling more connected to their teammates. To do that, we must engage them, and a well-placed warm-up can help.  

“The greatest gift you ever give, is your honest self”

— Fred Rogers

Every person is a unique end unto themselves, not a means to an end. With this in mind, creating an environment that enables participation is an important part of large-group facilitation. Everybody - the extroverts and the introverts, the leaders and the led, the majority and the minority. All of us. A warm-up won't solve all that in one shot, but it can help, especially if it’s not so serious! One of our most requested modules is Difficult Conversations. We’ve given this presentation enough times to know that (often) people feel like they are being invited into a session where there will be some sort of facilitated battle royale! People think, “They brought in the consultants to finally have this out…” and they dig in. As a result, we start the session with a pretty fun warm-up that gets people oriented to the module and lowers their defenses. We ask:

1. How likely are you to have a difficult conversation on a scale of 1-10 (with 1 being totally avoidant and 10 being “sometimes I make up things to argue about”)? 

2. How would you rate the effectiveness of your difficult conversations on a scale of 1-5 (with 1 being not well and 5 being very well)?  

3. And most importantly - what’s the best flavor of ice cream? 

It’s a little silly, a little serious, and most importantly, disarming. We’re not here to force anybody into anything they don't want to do. We are here to invite others into a brand of leadership that is more effective. Not easier; more effective! And that’s the thing about icebreakers (or warmups) - they are invitations, particularly for those who need them. 

I confess that I am not one of those people. As I write this, I can hear my mother pleading with me in the 4th grade, “Brandon, please just keep your mouth shut!”

But many people struggle to speak up. People who have been told that their perspective is invalid by life. People who are not as naturally talkative. People who are extreme introverts. People who need time to process what they want to say before being put on the spot. I’m not like those people. And you may not be like those people either. But those people matter just as much as anybody else, and their perspective is invaluable if we want our teams to represent our people. 

People like me don't need icebreakers - I’m practically a walking icebreaker! But icebreakers aren't for people like me. Every large group will have a range of dispositions, and we need to be sure the everybody feels like their voice matters. It is not about me or you. It’s about the group. And if a warmup creates a pathway for others to engage, then I’m all for it. So, here are some simple tips to help you have an effective warmup:

• Don’t make it weird, but…

• Be a little silly; it takes the pressure down

• Don’t make it long in a large group (simple one or two-word answers enable ease of flow)

• Make it thoughtful in a small group setting (like, “What song when you hear it takes you immediately to a time or a memory?” Pro Tip - if you want to get to know someone, don't ask them to spill their life story, ask them a question that invites them to tell you about their lives. Music is nearly universally effective for this.

• Buy some conversation cards - you can find a bajillion on the internet

• Invite, but don’t force anyone to share

• If people don’t share, don’t take it personally - they might need some time to warm up

• Absolutely no trust falls (see bullet one)

If this is the first time a group is getting together, your first introduction to the group, a gathering that might have a charged/heated topic, a family gathering (which might be that charged topic), or a setting where some of the people know each other and some do not, consider a simple warmup. It can go a long way.

Enjoy - and have a great meeting! 

Who > Do

I’m sure it’s been brought to your attention in some form the past few weeks that April was National Stress Awareness Month, and May is National Mental Health Awareness Month. While we hesitate to hop onto the carousel of rotating themed months, this is one that we will buckle up for. Undoubtedly, the topic of mental wellness has exploded over the past few years across the country. It’s something that our partners ask us about all the time. We are no strangers to dealing with stress, and mental wellness is something we talk openly about within the ALPs team and keep paramount as a value.  

Wellness and stress are some issues that we can’t simply leave at the office at the end of the day. It comes along on our commute and walks through the door with us into our home life. As leaders, we must be aware of our stress levels and how stress manifests itself in other physical symptoms and characteristics, both within ourselves and others. The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) states that 1 in 5 adults experience mental illness each year. People with depression have a 40% higher risk of developing cardiovascular and metabolic diseases than the general population.

Stress affects everyone differently, and what works for one person may not work for another. We know we aren’t alone in finding a balance in serving ourselves and others daily. It’s vital as leaders to model rest and self-care. So, here are four strategies that we’ve found help keep us positive and productive:

Rest. A hilarious satirical children’s book was published in 2011 called Go The F*&% To Sleep (GTFTS). For anyone who has kids or has witnessed parents trying to make their little ones go to bed, you can appreciate the laundry list of things kids come up with to delay going to sleep. If you haven’t heard Samuel L. Jackson reading it, let me make your day. It’s a great message for adults too. While we may not give it as much thought as kids do, we find our own reasons to delay going to sleep. Scrolling through Insta reels and Tik Toks? GTFTS. Watching one more Netflix episode? GTFTS. Don’t want to miss out on last call at the bar? GTFTS. Make sleep hygiene a priority of your day, and make your sleep environment as calm and inviting as possible. A resilient person is a well-rested one. Overworking and exhaustion are the opposite of resilience.

Move your body. It’s no secret that compromised mental and emotional health significantly affects our physical bodies. It’s incredible how intrinsically linked our brains and bodies are. Do what you enjoy to get the blood flowing and get the mind revived. Win the morning by getting in some sort of movement before the remainder of your day is taken over by other priorities. Schedule the time on your calendar so your team sees it. Encourage them to do the same, and honor the time if they do. Take some walking meetings; not every meeting requires you to be on video all the time. Or better yet, turn on the video while you soak up the sunshine. Perhaps it will spark internal permission for someone else to do the same. I’ve been known to keep some kettlebells in the doorway of my office so I can bust out some squats, lunges, or shoulder presses on my way to the bathroom or coffee refill (or snack). Choose to walk or take a yoga class during lunch hour and then eat back at the office. Whatever it is, just move.

Set boundaries.  How many of you set up the Out of Office response that you are spending time with your family on vacation and won’t respond to emails until you return, only to quickly type a one-handed reply, with a margarita in the other and your toes in the sand? Yep, guilty here too. When you’re away, be away. Let’s get over the “grinding and busyness” of work culture. Understandably, we want to be responsive and supportive of our people in our absence. As leaders, we must set our own boundaries and respect them, or others won’t either. This allows you to foster confidence among your team and allow them to make decisions in your absence. Create other boundaries where it makes sense, like the weekends, or put away the cell phone during family times to fully connect and be with our loved ones. By respecting our own boundaries, we set an example for and remove the pressure from our people when it’s their turn for quality time away. They can trust that we will allow them to be away too.

Recharge - Our lives are made up of so many elements that make us who we ARE, not just the work we DO. We participate in joyful activities that feed our souls, to connect with ourselves, and cultivate self-satisfaction, gratitude, and inner peace. As the Mom of a spunky and precious toddler, self-care sometimes looks like blasting loud music or a podcast in my car as I cruise to run errands alone. Or sitting in carline reading a few pages of a book. Refill your cup with anything from journaling, gardening, knitting, tinkering with mechanical projects and puzzles, volunteering in your community, coffee with a friend, spiritual reflection, or taking a class that interests you. Figure out what your people are into and be their biggest fans in supporting their interests. Turn what you love doing into rituals that intentionally create meaning in your life. We are so much more than our work and jobs. 

As leaders, we have to celebrate and nurture WHO our people are, not just WHAT they do. We have to lead by example and honor the same in ourselves. If our teams don’t see us taking breaks, they won’t either. Show up for yourself so that you can show up for others.

Earned Confidence: When in Charge, Be in Charge.

Confidence is critical in leadership. As a young Ranger, I learned an important phrase - “When in charge, be in charge.” It didn’t mean you would be certain about your decisions, it meant you had to be confident to lead. It means that as leaders, we have to own it. We must be confident while accepting that we can never predict the outcomes. Confidence is hard to come by and must be earned over time. You can’t get it from books or podcasts or fake it until you make it. You have to get some reps. And you have to build confidence through the stages of base and learned confidence to gain earned confidence. Earned confidence is experience plus preparation, honed in the arena, for the arena. The Army has a great way of developing this by applying the crawl-walk-run approach to all training. When you see a video of some barrel-chested freedom fighters blowing doors off their hinges and clearing buildings, you can rest assured that it took a lot of reps in the arena to get there.

“Confidence is contagious. So is lack of confidence. ”

— Vince Lombardi

Close Quarters Battle (CQB; fighting in urban terrain) is a great illustration of progressing through the stages of confidence. It is the most exciting, most chaotic, and by far the most addictive aspect of Rangering. When it’s done to precision, it’s a terrifying and effective dance of chaos and order. Those who have experienced it can attest -  there is nothing quite like it. But CQB doesn’t just happen overnight. In fact, the first time through the shoot house is always ugly, but well before that, there’s a long road to earning the shoot house. You don’t get through the door of the shoot house until you’re ready. You don’t get to shoot live round 2 feet off your buddy’s barrel unless you’re confident. 

You must first learn how to use your weapon effectively and safely. You must qualify with your weapon, get through the flat range, learn how to load, fire, and clear jams, put rounds where you want them, put rounds where you want them while moving, and then tighten up your shot group. When you’ve learned how to do all of that without pointing the barrel of your weapon at your teammate, then you can progress. 

And that’s just individual training. Then you have to learn CQB's tactics, techniques, and procedures (TTPs). The formations, expectations, signals, commands, etc. You do that during tape drills with empty weapons. Then you do flow drills in buildings before you work up to the shoot house. All of these steps establish a base level of understanding, leading to something we call base confidence. That base is then ready to be tested in the shoot house. 

Entering the shoot house for the first time is a lot like a first kiss. You generally understand what to expect and approach eagerly, but you never know the feeling until go-time. In CQB, all the base knowledge comes together when you feel the heat of the door charge on your face, the taste of dust and carbon in your mouth, or the crunch of bullet casings under your boots. It’s scary and exhilarating all at once. The fast pace is disorienting at first. You can enter the same shoot house a thousand times and feel like you’re walking into a thousand different rooms. 

In and out of stack you go - assault, clear, secure, extract, review, and repeat. Execute, reflect, learn, refine, execute. Over and over. Day after day until the lights go out, and you do it again night after night - until you know. You know the feeling of your heart in your ears and the blast of the charge on your pallet. You know the pinch in your forearm from operating your weapon one-handed while working with your free hand. You know the feeling of a man crumbling under the strike of your elbow or of live bullets splashing through a target 2 feet in front of your face. 

Time under tension in the shoot house changes you until you have the learned confidence to step into the real arena - war. Championships aren’t won on the practice field. We play the game because we don’t know the score based on the rosters. The price of admission into the arena is learned confidence. The thing about learned confidence is that it’s close to earned confidence. But they are not the same. Mastery of the elements only lies within the arena they were meant for. Earned confidence is refined in the arena, for the arena. 

Go time. 

Kicking down doors in a foreign land is different from blowing through the shoot house. Familiar, but different. The surprises of action in real-time emerge in the arena. Like an operator from another special mission unit (SMU) clearing rooms toward your progressing assault without knowing your signals. Or exploding into a dusty, dark room to discover a mother and her children frozen in terror and tears. Real-life decisions, with real-life consequences, occur in real-time in the arena. And though you reflect and refine in the ready room after the mission, you cannot take anything back. Once you pull the trigger, you cannot take back the round. The score is locked on the ledger, and an earned confidence hangs on you long after you hang your gear in the locker. 

Earned confidence cannot be faked. It accrues through the losses and the wins in the arena. Each loss is equally as valuable (if not more) than each win. The losses force you to learn and to make decisions about your relationship with the arena of your choice. Decisions to get back in the arena or to climb into the stands. Decisions to grow, allowing yourself to be changed, or decisions to sit down and never get back up. That’s the journey, and it takes place every day around us and inside of us. And when you consistently make the decision to grow and re-enter, that earned confidence can never be taken from you. It remains with you even as you enter new arenas of competition - like leaving service and starting a career in the civilian sector. For that matter, leaving one industry to start in another or wiping the slate clean after a great year to your sights on a new year's goals.

We aren’t called to be perfect as leaders. We aren’t expected to be soothsayers and fortune tellers. We are expected to be in charge and to be confident when in charge. And whether you are currently leading with a base, learned, or earned confidence, we hope you take the time to own where you are and to lead authentically. We hope you accept that your people want to be led by you. We hope you remember - when in charge, be in charge! 

Don’t Go Changing

From the day I was assigned to the 2nd Ranger Battalion to the day I graduated from Army Ranger School, I carried around a SH 21-76 Ranger Handbook in my cargo pocket. And while the lasting imprint of that little book remains on my body to this day (I’m convinced that no hair will ever grow back on that thigh), the lessons it taught me left a far more indelible mark. I was reminded of one simple lesson about change during a coaching call with one of our partners last week. 

Their team is assessing how to hit their sales goal for 2023 after the first quarter of the year shows some growth, but not enough growth. This is normal. The fact that they are even looking at this already suggests keen and effective leadership. Considering incentives to influence the sales team shows care and discipline. 

Discipline is key in moments like this because there is a BIG difference between making changes and making adjustments. 

Changes tell the team to alter what they do; adjustments tell the team to alter how they do it. 

A team that is constantly changing what they do throughout the year cannot attain any level of sustainable effectiveness. Very few things will frustrate a team more than constantly changing. Eventually, the team begins to ignore what the leader says because they know it will change anyhow. 

Pay attention. If you have a team that is saying, “He/ she just changes the guidance every other month anyhow!” or something like that, it’s a great indicator. And it’s your chance to learn how to make adjustments instead of changes. 

Adjusting how we do what we do in order to achieve the same goal is called pivoting. Pivoting is good. In the Army, we call that fighting the enemy, not the plan. We learned to plan for success with limited information - it’s why an Army mission statement consists of the 5 W’s: Who, What, When, Where, and Why. Notice the mission statement does not include How. 

In the Army, the mission does not change without a larger process (FRAGO). How you accomplish the mission changes all the time, and there’s a procedure to plan for the certainty of a mission while respecting the uncertainty of how to accomplish it. 

That process is called the Army’s 8 Troop Leading Procedures, or TLPs. This ridiculous acronym (RIMICCIS) was beaten into my brain at age 18. The TLPs serve an Army leader when she receives a mission and needs to get the team moving in the right direction without all the necessary information. Military leaders must constantly form and lead teams to operate effectively in ambiguity. This is why the 8 TLPs are clutch. Here are the steps: 

1. Receive the Mission

2. Issue a warning order

3. Make a tentative plan

4. Initiate necessary movement

5. Conduct reconnaissance 

6. Complete the plan

7. Issue the complete order

8. Supervise

The 8 TLPs acknowledge that progress is greater than perfection. Or as Patton once put it, “A good plan, violently executed now, is better than a perfect plan next week.” This confounds the enemies of our country, as observed by a Soviet Officer during the Cold War who once stated, “A serious problem in planning against American doctrine is that the Americans do not read their manuals, nor do they feel any obligation to follow their doctrine.” 

Doctrine matters, but we must have useful frameworks through which we apply it. RIMICCIS is a solid framework for warfare and business because it allows the team to move effectively in the right direction while respecting that necessary adjustments will be made to achieve the same goal. 

Annual sales goals do not change midstream. Once they are created, distributed, and accepted, they are either achieved or not. Full stop. 

I have been engaged in some form of professional selling ever since I left the Army. I have missed goals, I have met goals, and I have crushed goals. There is a massive difference between each of them, and once you know how to achieve a sales goal, you will never unlearn what it takes. Nor will you ever act like you hit your number when you know you missed it. 

Back to our sales leader. The team knows the goal, and the team needs to adjust midstream. This leader made a critical call and told the team to keep moving in the same direction while announcing impending adjustments as they collect more data from the field. In this way, he is already four steps into the 8 TLPs. His next call is to gather market intelligence from the field (step 5 - conduct recon), which will shape the adjustments (step 6 - complete the plan) before issuing an adjustment to the plan (step 7 - issue the order) to accelerate growth towards the goal. 

The leader has a “sales spiff '' in mind (an additional incentive option for his sales force) that is rooted in the growth of a specific product line. That product requires market intel from the field, which is why he is allowing for the solution to develop before rolling out the details. 

Set a goal, pick your hilltop, and move out into the unknown with the knowledge of what you and your team are doing. How you get there will inevitably change. And that’s ok. Accept and embrace the journey and reject the false certainty that will bait you into fighting your plan instead of the enemy. 

Themes

It’s hard to believe, but Q1 is OVER. How’s the year going so far? Have you had a chance to look back and reflect on the first three months of 2023? If not (which is totally understandable), we suggest carving out an hour or two to review your goals for this year and see how reality is stacking up. And if we may be so bold, we also recommend revisiting the way in which you go about setting goals in the first place. 

Most of us are great about using the start of a new year as an opportunity to set strategic plans for our businesses and make some personal resolutions - but most of those aren’t intact after a month or two. As we said in the Army, no plan survives first contact with the enemy. In a culture filled with OKRs, KPIs, and AOPs, it can be really difficult to broaden our thinking and look beyond this month or quarter. To be clear, we believe in having clear and measurable targets. We understand that benchmarks and guideposts are great ways to stay motivated and determine if we’re on track. However, we believe they are insufficient for doing the two most important things that leaders are responsible for, especially during uncertain times - setting a clear vision and making difficult decisions. To do those things, we must be guided by something more substantial. 

In 2019, I adopted the practice of establishing a theme for the upcoming year. Some may call it an intention or a mantra. My skepticism of all things “woo-woo” led me to choose a different word, but regardless of your preferred term, it really seems to work. In both personal and professional matters, I’ve found that having a clear theme helps me to set purposeful priorities, adopt positive behaviors, and limit distractions. My theme can reorient me when things get nuts and encourage me to be patient when I’m frustrated. More than anything, having a theme helps me to stop pretending that I can plan everything out in perfect little steps and Just. Let. Go. 

Joseph Campbell said that “If you can see your whole life laid out before you, it’s not your life.” Let that roll around in your mind for a few minutes. I’m not sure what that means to you, but I take it as a call to focus much more on the direction I’m trying to go and much less on each step along the path. 

Themes are deep commitments that can guide us when making proactive decisions or responding to unexpected circumstances. We need something to lean on when life isn’t going according to plan or giving us all of the information we need. So what do we do when we come to an unplanned fork in the road? I like to start by asking a simple question that sounds something like, “Is this consistent with my theme?” or “What would be consistent with my theme?” Once I run a decision through that simple filter, it often won’t require much further analysis. We typically have a good idea of what we need to do, it’s just sometimes hard to do it…so we belabor the process of deciding.   

We can never be certain that we’re making the right call, but we can usually tell if it feels right. That gut feeling is coming from somewhere. It may be rooted in something like your values:

What is important to you? Who do you want to be? How do you want to treat people? 

It could also be rooted in your theme: Does this move us closer to our goals? Is this a distraction from our core objectives? Is this consistent with what we’re trying to build here?

And what’s truly amazing about this is that we can very easily share it with our teams. When everybody is armed with this kind of clarity, your organization’s ability to solve problems, serve customers, and seize opportunities goes through the roof. You can’t create a flowchart or checklist that covers every possible scenario your people will have, but the good news is that you don’t have to! When a leader can articulate and demonstrate themes and values, teams tend to follow. 

So please, keep setting goals and building project plans, and establishing budgets; those things are important and will definitely help you manage your business. But before you do that, take some time to pull up a level and think hard about your theme. See if you can find a word or phrase that will set the compass for you and your team. You might be surprised how the other stuff more easily falls into place. 

P.S. - In 2023, my theme is “Enthusiasm.”

• I only want to pursue and prioritize things that I am passionate about.

• As important, I want to embrace and be enthusiastic about the “ordinary” parts of my life.

• This one word helps shape my attitude, gets me back on track when I’m meh, and provides a wonderful filter for assessing opportunities.

The Power of Contrast

Contrast is a powerful educator. 

Contrast is a striking difference - abrupt and disorienting. Disorientation is essential for learning because–oftentimes–we must be moved off our mark to see things differently. Our mark is where we stand physically, emotionally, and mentally. Our mark can be a topic or a decision we feel certain about. And while some things in life require certainty, most do not.

I used to be certain that the French hate Americans. I remember around 9/11/01 the French opposed the GWOT and in response Americans poured out French wine in the streets in disgust. They hated us. And I hated them! And then I traveled to France in 2006 as a member of the US Army's contingent to honor D-Day. That week I learned that I was wrong about the French. A lesson that I embraced when the people of Normandy welcomed us into their homes, introduced us to their children, and fed us like family. That lesson was solidified when an old French man wept on my shoulder in anger and shame for his government's position on the GWOT.

“We are brothers,” he said. "France and America must always stand together. Always!”

The heartfelt expression was striking. It stood in stark contrast to the mark I had been standing upon. And it taught me a lesson: don’t stereotype - see for yourself. 

2005 Café Gondrée - “Pegasus Bridge Cafe” in Bénouville, France - Photo Credit: Martin K.A. Morgan.

Contrast can be a powerful tool in leadership. Change the expected pattern and allow contrast to be the educator. Perhaps this is the pearl of wisdom at the center of the parable of the prodigal son. Articulated center mass of the account when Jesus stated, “...no one gave him anything. When he came to his senses…(Luke 15:16b-17a)”. I don't think it’s taking too much liberty to move a word around and restate the sentence: when no one gave him anything he came to his senses. This was strikingly different and changed that young man’s approach to living in careless debauchery. We’ve experienced this as a family launching young adults into the world. Though it hurts significantly, releasing a child into the world to experience the consequences of their own actions has proven to be a powerful use of contrast for learning. 

Within our teams, we can thoughtfully use contrast. If we wish for initiative to increase, then we can empower our people and let them make decisions on their own. Whether the results are positive or negative, they will be theirs. Teammates will learn an increased sense of agency that will lead to further initiative when we as leaders don’t give them the “cheat code” and let them find out for themselves. 

Or the underperforming teammate who is not responding to feedback. Change the pattern of how feedback is given and let contrast do its work. Because contrast has a way of making us pay attention. For example, the simple act of moving verbal performance feedback to documented performance feedback tends to do the trick. 

Another way to program contrast into your leadership practice is to expose team members to different aspects of the organization. One of our partners had his entire sales team sit in with his operations team. Seeing the organization from another vantage point increased understanding, appreciation, and cohesion across the team. That is effective team building! 

The common denominator in all of these examples is a personal, felt experience that is strikingly different than the expectation. Until we as people feel it ourselves, we are unlikely to move off of our marks, see something new, and be open to considering differences. The key is to explore ways to allow contrast to work while providing a culture that embraces learning through successes and failures. Because contrast can be a powerful educator, but only when the environment is built for learning. 

Well Traveled

Over the past few years, our work has required a lot of travel. We’ve historically averaged about 2 trips per month, but Q4,22 and Q1,23 have been much busier. In fact, we’ve been in 7 cities over the last 6 weeks. This is what we like to call a “high quality” problem. We love going on the road to spend time with clients face-to-face AND we appreciate that all of this time away from home comes with a range of challenges. We also appreciate that we are not alone in the road-warrior lifestyle, so we thought we’d share a few principles that we apply to keep us focused, healthy, connected, and SANE.

Awareness: We both have wives and kids, and they have their own busy lives to manage, so having shared visibility on upcoming business trips is critical. It is important that we are as engaged in, and supportive of, our home lives as possible and nothing screws that up faster than, “I can’t drop her off at school tomorrow, I’m flying out at 6am!” Make a shared calendar and publish it within the house in whatever way works best for your family. We have a 90-day calendar printout on the kitchen table which gives us enough foresight to deconflict all of the moving pieces.

Connection: Whether we’re traveling for a day or a week, we remind one another to make the effort to step away from work and make the phone call home. Say hello, send a text, do a Facetime call. Even if it’s just a short one, the thought and the effort makes a difference. Last week on the road, we noticed that a key leader in the organization we were supporting stepped out of a session, then came back a few minutes later. She was checking in with her kids. And that’s good leadership in our book!

Routine: Keep things simple where you can. I always park at the same place and take the same routes through the airport. I also have a checklist of stuff that I need on the road (chargers, AirPods, hygiene kit, etc.). Reducing variables helps reduce mishaps. As partners, we stick to the same routine for almost every trip: Whoever arrives first rents the car unless an Uber is easier. We get to the hotel, review and rehearse for the partner engagement, have dinner, ONE drink, and off to bed early to be fresh for the next day.

Wellness: This is where having a like-minded partner is super helpful. We do our very best to stay disciplined to our health and fitness practices while traveling. Every morning on the road, we get up and get a workout in together. We make the most of what’s at our disposal. A great hotel gym is nice, but we’ve done a ton of air squats and burpees in the hotel room and we’ve covered countless miles on less-than-scenic routes. Fitness is a priority. Be kind to your body, you need it to be sharp. Eat well. Order the cobb salad wherever possible. Avoid excessive amounts of alcohol. Have one vodka-soda, then switch to just club soda, nobody will notice. And get some good sleep. Sleep is everything. Lastly, and we struggle with this one, try not to over-caffeinate!!! 

Agility: Pack what you need, not what you could need. We’ve turned minimalist packing into a sport, and have probably taken it too far, but it really helps to stay light and move easily. We favor awesome rucksacks from our friends at GORUCK, but you do you. We’ve also converted most of our wardrobes to pants, shirts, and shoes that are highly comfortable and versatile. I basically don’t wear anything that’s not wrinkle resistant, machine washable, and 4-way stretch. Technology!

Invest in Your Sanity: If you travel more than 25% per year, get a club pass and TSA PreCheck. After traveling for years on a non-profit budget, we finally decided to spring for the club and it has been a game-changer. The clubs offer a base of operation when delays happen, and you make the money back on coffees and meals, not to mention the free checked baggage. Last month I was delayed seven hours out of Phoenix. I set up my mobile office for the day in the United club and got so much done!

Being on the road can absolutely wear you down under the best of circumstances, so it’s important that we apply some discipline to our travel. Our work is a blast and we’re very lucky to be able to do it. The goal is to do it at a level of health and harmony that allows us to keep doing it for years to come - because real success is effectiveness x sustainability. And that’s a life well traveled.