Embracing Our Greatness

Nobody wakes up in the morning and thinks, “I want to suck today!” But that doesn’t mean everyone wakes up and steels themselves to be great. I suspect that everyone does want to be great, though we often settle for average or good enough. Why? 

We’ve been thinking about this a lot lately and find there are three common reasons that people don’t chase greatness: 1) greatness is hard; 2) greatness comes with high expectations; and 3) greatness can be lonely. 

Greatness is the consistent achievement of our goals compounded over time. And consistently achieving at a high level is hard as hell. This is the first obstacle. 

Greatness is hard. Staring down greatness gives us the reality check that it’s going to hurt. That is because it requires sacrifice. We sacrifice our time, our comfort, and our energy in the pursuit of greatness. This means that we forego a lot of easy options and downtime. It doesn't mean we have no downtime in the pursuit of greatness, but it does mean that we give it a secondary position in service to greatness. And that is damned hard because the easy options are…well, easy, and downtime costs nothing from us. 

We are constantly faced with choices in our daily lives. Many of them require little thought, but some of them take some real effort, and it is these subtle but important decisions that end up moving us closer to, or further away from greatness. Like finding ourselves at 4:00 pm and knowing that we could either make one more sales call or hit the Starbucks drive-through and head for home. Greatness calls us to forego the latte and take one more crack at a difficult account before calling it a day. It’s the harder right instead of the path of least resistance. It’s a small, uphill step along the path to the summit. 

Distractions and downtime seem to be always lurking around the corner in our remote work world. It’s one thing to stay focused when we’re working on a production line, but it’s not so simple when working from a computer where we can hop a window into a limitless world of options that occupy us. But we have to close those windows and get about the work that matters if we aim for greatness. 

And taking that aim can feel scary because we don’t know if we’ll actually hit the target. 

There’s a growing number of young people I interact with (largely young men) who are reluctant to pull back those arrows and take shots at greatness, largely because they are afraid to fail. When I ask them about it, many have shared the “What if” mixtape constantly playing in the background: What if I fail?, What if I look stupid?, What if I am embarrassed? And so on. But what if you win? That’s hard to consider over the clamor of doubt but important in the quest for greatness. This is why we’ve started asking people, “What’s the best that could happen?” right alongside the worst. 

If we’re going to embrace greatness, we must accept that falling short is better than failing to try at all. We must reject the bait to run and hide and take the chance to fly. 

Greatness comes with high expectations. Staring down greatness means others will expect more from us and we may not want to be in positions to let others down. We see it every year in the Super Bowl. Within the same breath, the champion is celebrated, and speculations of “next year” begin. Could he be the greatest quarterback of all time? How many contracts are up at the end of this season? What about the offensive and defensive coordinators…will they be head coaches next year? On and on it goes. 

Great teams earn great expectations, and oftentimes, the reward for great work is more work! That’s the name of the game because great teams and great people can handle the expectations. They’ve earned the right to own them and the confidence to approach them. But if we’re being honest, playing from behind is easier. It’s easier to be an unknown or an underdog, but we only get one chance to be that. Once you’re found out, you’re on front street.  

Though we may shy from high expectations, do we really want low expectations? Do we want others to expect little from us and resource us accordingly? Those with little expectations are given little resources. Yet, “to whom much is given, much is expected (Luke 12:48).” We’ll take the resources, so let’s also embrace the expectations and approach the target with earned confidence, a confidence that is built in the arena for the arena. And that arena doesn’t have to be a lonely place, but it often feels that way when we pursue greatness. 

Greatness is lonely. Those of us who seek greatness push harder, go further, and run faster. We get ahead of the masses and stand above the crowd. We take the hard path and leave the easy walk to others. And we find ourselves alone more often than not. Not because we look down upon others or think ill of them, but because we have an internal drive and ambition that presses us on toward greatness. It’s not about me against you. It’s about me against me. I know I can do better, therefore I do better. 

And while that can feel lonely, the truth is we are not alone, especially when we are on a team. Nothing done in isolation is done alone. That extra sales call that leads to a new client impacts the rep who won it, and the entire team. Don’t believe me? Watch the winning District Sales Manager at the end of the banquet night and see what happens. You will find her taking a team photo at the end of the night, trophy in hand. Because nothing her reps did in isolation was done alone. 

Being great is not synonymous with being alone. Find the other weirdos who want to be great just like you do and connect with them. Drive them as they drive you. Inspire them as they inspire you. And compete with them as they compete with you.

Annual Letter 2024

Dear Friends, 

It’s hard to believe that we are kicking off our fifth year in business and sending our fourth annual letter to you all. It’s been a heck of a run so far, and it feels like we’re just getting started! 

Looking back on 2023, it feels like a year of completion, transition, and maturation. In both business and life, our team experienced a lot of growth and change. After three years of hard work and dedication, Brandon graduated with a Master of Divinity, Leadership from Denver Seminary. Blayne and his family traded living in sunny Tampa for 10+ years for all four seasons of Maine. We added a full-time team member and deepened our relationships with other partners and small businesses to help us advance our vision and mature our processes. 

And while we’re updating: 

• Kelly began taking on responsibilities as Charge Nurse and led three women’s bible studies while facilitating a marriage group with Brandon.

• Jeni spearheaded the effort to sell a house, buy a house, and move our family…twice! And still found time to teach yoga, learn some guitar, and be an absolutely amazing mother.

• Jaden completed One Station Unit Training (OSUT) at Ft. Moore and is stationed at 1/32 Infantry, 10th Mountain Division, Ft. Drum, NY

• Dylan graduated from high school (a year early), started working, driving, and getting super strong. He’ll be off to college this summer. 

• Elli joined the AXO sorority, made the Dean’s list in the Fall semester, and enjoyed the beginning of the Coach Prime era for the CU Buffs! 

• Dalton is an official teenager, is crushing Florida virtual school, and continues to blow our minds with a skateboard or snowboard beneath his feet.

• Penny is becoming a star, and she knows it. She loves art and music and is totally obsessed with Taylor Swift. We’re gonna have our hands full with this one.

We came into 2023 with some momentum and kept it going with a few awesome events to start the year, including a mainstage presentation at Thermo ImmunoDiagnostic Division’s National Sales Meeting, which was an absolute blast. 

Something else that we did early in the year was a deliberate, no-kidding strategy meeting in Breckenridge, Colorado, that provided so much clarity on where we’d been and where we wanted the business to go. Brandon and Blayne spent a couple of days locked in a condo strategizing and planning and then spent a weekend skiing and snowboarding with Kelly and Jeni. After that, Applied Leadership Partners was on a course for an amazing year. 

Our intentions coming out of the retreat were: 

• Continue to meaningfully but responsibly grow revenue.

• Limit air and overnight travel to (2) trips per partner per month.

• Generously share truth and love in a way that creates value beyond our clients.

• Continue challenging ourselves and grow. Embrace nervousness.

• Maintain freedom and agency regarding how and with whom we work.

• Create a functional, professional business with a small, tight, agile team.

Here is a quick overview of how we did in 2023 by the numbers, and then we’ll talk a bit more about how it happened. 

• 61 total client engagements (24 in-person, 37 virtual). We nailed it on travel days!

• Revenue was up 63% over 2022 while maintaining similar profit margins. This is actually more growth than we were shooting for and certainly stretched us at times, but we’re thrilled with it!

• We added Sarah Holzhalb to the team in April as Director of Marketing and Business Development. Her work has been incredibly valuable in shoring up the business and setting the stage for future growth. The numbers don’t lie. 

• Marketing Year Over Year growth by the numbers (2022 vs. 2023)

• Total Followers - 133% 

• Page and Profile Reach (users) - 292%

• Page and Profile Impressions - 311%

• Posts - 476%

• Post Reach (users) - 306%

• Post Impressions - 288%

• Video Viewers - 463%

• We launched a monthly newsletter that we’d love for you to subscribe to and share with friends.

• We’ve had a blast recording new episodes of our refreshed Applied Leadership Podcast. We aim to release two episodes a month, and you can listen and watch on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and YouTube.

• We also sold and subsequently wrote a book! The manuscript is complete and is off to the publisher. It’s been a long, difficult, and rewarding journey so far…and we know that there is much work still to do. Please stay tuned as we work toward a big release in early 2025! If you’re interested in learning more or would like to purchase books for your organization, send a note to operations@appliedleadershippartners.com.

In 2023, our offering expanded but was also sharpened. We added some new content but also refined some of our most requested modules of instruction and found new ways to deliver them. We created and delivered: 

• Brilliance In The Basics sales skills training. Teaching the core, human aspects of effective selling. Participants learn and practice the skills needed to build genuine, trusting relationships and close business in the real world. This offering is suited for sales organizations that use an existing model but wish to increase sales effectiveness by improving their reps’ human dimensions of selling. 

• We created our Front Line Leader Program, which is designed for front line leaders, especially those newer to management roles. The program is delivered through engaging videos and an accompanying workbook. It is self-paced and able to be scaled across an enterprise. The program is ideal for companies in service industries, retail, and hospitality. 

• We focused more keenly on Advising leadership teams, deepening our relationship with key partners, and serving leadership leadership teams who are navigating growth, change, and uncertainty. Being in the same foxhole with these incredibly talented and committed leaders is a gift we do not take lightly. 

• We also upped our game in Keynote speaking and had the privilege to speak from the main stage at a number of conferences, kickoff meetings, and events. 

While we worked with several new clients last year, our business is mostly growing deeper. We have some wonderful, long-term partnerships where we feel truly part of the team and are able to really understand the organization, the people, and their needs. We absolutely love having these kinds of relationships and feel that we can add so much as real partners to an organization. 

In the coming year, we aim to continue doing more of the same while growing meaningfully and responsibly. We are having a great time with this work; we love the people we work with, and the primary goal is to keep it going. This business is our infinite game. We’ll do that by deepening relationships with our long-time clients, by reaching out and establishing new partnerships, through the expansion of our Front Line Leader program, and by (slowly) bringing some new faces to the podium. We’ll continue working behind the scenes on our book to ensure that it comes to life in a way that will deliver as much value as possible to everybody who reads it. 

We’re also very proud that our business and teammates are making good on our commitment to servant leadership. Over the past year, Blayne served as the chairman of the board of the Armed Services Arts Partnership (ASAP) and helped them to serve over 1100 veterans and military families members through their amazing programs. 

Brandon has recently joined the board of directors of Gallant Few and will be working to support the Army Ranger community. Of note, we also made $5,000 contributions to both organizations to help support and advance their missions. This is huge for us, as we started this company with the goal to be generous and give back, and it feels wonderful to be in a place where we can do this. Ideally, there will be much more to come. 

Finally, we want to leave you with a few broad thoughts on the year ahead. In the way that 2021 was the year that everyone couldn’t wait to start, it feels like 2024 is one that a lot of folks would prefer to skip altogether. We know that many of you are rightfully concerned about the state of things socially, financially, and geopolitically. It seems that almost no matter who you read and listen to, they’re predicting, or at least alluding to, some form of calamity before the year is over. For our part, we can’t offer a look into the crystal ball. We don’t know what will happen in Ukraine or Gaza, and we have no clue how the Presidential election will play out. We’re not sure if inflation will get worse or better, and we can’t tell you what will happen with stock prices or real estate. Here is what we can offer, and we hope it’s helpful. 

1. Pay Attention and Participate. Do your best to stay engaged in what’s happening in your community and the world around you. Do so in a way that gives the space for sanity and reflection. Be informed without being consumed. Take small actions where you can. Help a neighbor, vote in a primary election, go to a school board meeting, raise money for charity, volunteer in your community, or whatever makes a positive contribution, while allowing you to live your life. 

2. Prepare. Prediction is a fool’s errand. We cannot predict an uncertain future, but we can prepare for it. Consider your circumstances and some of the variables at play, then figure out what you, your family, and your business can do to either weather difficulty, or seize an opportunity. This might look like saving a few bucks or getting healthier or repairing a relationship. It may turn out to be a rough year, and it may not, but you’ll be prepared either way. 

3. Press On. We can’t sit on our hands and wait to see how it all turns out. Please don’t just mail it in this year. If others want to do that, fine. You’ll just be that much further ahead come 2025. Continue to invest in your skills, your team, your projects, and your family. If you’re paying attention and prepared, you can confidently move forward, knowing that you’ll be able to adapt or adjust if needed. 

We’ll close this year’s letter by simply saying THANK YOU! Too many people to mention have offered their belief, support, and encouragement to us over the past 4 years, and our business and lives would not be nearly as fulfilling without it. We’re off to the races in 2024, and we can’t wait to see you out on the trail!

All our best, 

Brandon, Blayne, Sarah, and the ALPs family

The Little Lights Aren’t Twinkling

Have you ever thought about (or experienced) the frustration or squabbles that ensue while decorating the family Christmas tree? What is supposed to be a fun and satisfying holiday tradition can quickly become a battle of strong opinions and absurd attempts to control the light placement and ornament styling. 

This year, our family’s tree became a metaphor for everyday life. 

We spent an afternoon decorating it, and what had started as a highly anticipated activity turned into a life lesson by the time we finished. My daughter, Rory, is four years old, and her awareness of, and desire to, celebrate as many holidays as possible has skyrocketed this year. My husband Matt and I took her to a Christmas tree farm, where she walked through all the trees and proudly chose the one to bring home (from the two acceptable options we gave her). 

Once we got the tree up in the stand, I climbed into the garage attic and lifted dusty lids off numerous boxes filled with ornaments we’d been gifted or bought as mementos over the years. This year, we chose just a few personal ones that mean the most to us and then filled in the rest with glittery red and silver balls. I stood on a ladder, squirreling my way around the tree, wrapping the lights, trying to make them as even as possible. Rory ecstatically hung her handmade ornaments of painted popsicle sticks and molded clay. All 10 of them clustered in a two-foot area on the lowest two branches of the tree. Each time she added a new one to the already crowded section, I had to take a deep breath and hold back the suggestion that maybe she could choose a different area to hang an ornament in.

By the time we finished, half of the lights had stopped working, and I was frustrated that I couldn’t figure out why. Some of the branches still wouldn’t fall, revealing significant gaps in the trunk. There were empty spots where we missed putting any ornaments. It was the most unconventional and incomplete tree we’ve had yet. Yet, lit up in the darkened front room brought joy and warmth to our home.  

Later that evening, my daughter got out of bed to go to the bathroom. Passing by the tree as she walked back to her bedroom, she stopped, looked at it, cheerfully raised her hands above her head, and exclaimed, “Mommy, it’s okay that the lights aren’t working. It’s still so beautiful!”

As usual, I was schooled in the College of Life by my preschooler.  

Our days are uneven: lush and plentiful in some areas, barren in others. There are some weeks, months, maybe even years where we are just trying to put one foot in front of the other and maintain some equilibrium, going through the motions. Other times, we’re cruising through new adventures and milestones and checking off the bucket list. Both are important. Those moments when we feel “in the middle,” we are still moving forward. We can plant the seeds for growth and nurture progress to more abundant days in the future. 

There are gaping holes that can’t be covered. There will be failures, shortcomings, and difficult times. Be transparent with your struggles and challenges. Writer Annie Dillard stated, "If we want our lives to feel meaningful and have gravity, we need to ensure our days feel meaningful and have gravity, too.” Let the holes in your life remain uncovered so the light can shine through and show you what is possible. You never know when you could be the light for someone’s hope for better days and improvements. Shame cannot survive the light. 

No matter what, it’s beautiful if you take the time to look. The effort and love we put into decorating the tree and making it ours is what makes it special. In yogic and Stoic philosophy, all things are neutral. It’s the personal labels we put on things and situations that make them appealing or repulsive to us. With the tree, and in life, we can put a microscope on it, expose all the tiny ugly parts, and deem it awful. Or we can step back, take the entire picture in, and observe it as a whole entity.

Most things we stress about truly don’t matter. It doesn’t matter that Rory’s artistic choice was to put all her ornaments in one spot or that not all the lights don’t work. Trust me, we aren’t in the running for a home decor award from Southern Living. The more we learn to leave “what is” alone, especially the difficult stuff that does matter but we have little to no control over, the more acceptance and contentment will steadily find us. Acceptance also doesn’t mean apathy and disregard. It means knowing what we can change and not letting what we can’t have rent-free space in our brains. 

If you view life in bits and pieces, you’ll always change your mind about whether it’s good, joyous, terrible, or tragic. Observed together, all the broken pieces come together, and we can raise our arms in the air and proclaim its beauty. The ordinary, well-lived moments add up to an extraordinary experience. 

This week, a visitor to our house commented, “Where are all your ornaments? The tree is pretty bare”. I replied that we added our favorite decorations, what we deemed essential. For me, the experience of this year’s tree will go down in our family history as the most loved and remembered. I pray I feel the same about life as each year closes, hoping the next year will be the best, focused on the beautiful essential pieces of it.

Imperfect, In Earnest

If you’ve looked around lately, you’ve surely noticed that the world seems a bit troubled at the moment. And while it’s hard to know if it’s any more or less troubled than normal, the vibe certainly feels particularly heavy right now. And if you’re anything like us, you’re probably spending at least some time thinking about what you can/should do about it, which is a very difficult question to answer. 

On one end of the spectrum, we could simply throw our hands up and just say, “the hell with it”. We could easily decide that the world’s problems are too big and too many for any of us to do much about it…so let’s just have some fun and let it burn. 

On the other extreme, we could decide that we need to solve all of the world’s problems and not take a moment of rest until we do! We might feel like there is no time to waste - no time for fun or joy or humor or relaxation, because the fate of the world is upon our shoulders. 

Clearly, there is a lot of room between the two ends of the spectrum, but finding the proper balance can be hard. How do we exist and participate in a world that needs so much work? How do we use our precious time on this earth to both make it a bit better AND enjoy our lives? This is a question that has been on our minds and we’re hearing from our partners too. We’ve heard it most often from our fellow military veterans. Those wired and trained for service can find it particularly tricky to manage this dynamic. 

So this Veterans Day, we’re sharing some thoughts that we hope will provide you with some perspective and encouragement as you navigate life in a world that can feel a bit overwhelming at times. First, some perspective…

Armistice Day

Many of you may know this, but Veterans Day was originally introduced as Armistice Day. The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month (11/11/1918) marked the end of hostilities in WWI. Of course, back then it wasn’t called World War One, it was known as "The Great War" or by some as "The War to End All Wars". Looking back over the 100 or so years since, it is obvious that it was not the world to end all wars. Less than 20 years later, Europe and eventually the entire world was aflame with WWII. Then only five years later there was Korea. Then Vietnam…and on and on it goes. 

Whether we like it or not, our history is marked with a continuous string of armed conflicts, and while we can all hope that this trend will change in the future, our history (and our current observations) suggest that likely isn’t the case. We think this is a big reason that we continue to revere and honor serving in the military and make a big deal out of Veterans Day…because while we can and should pray for peace, we know that war is a part of our lives.

Struggle and Progress

Wars are not the only challenges our nation has experienced over the past 100 years. While international conflicts provide notable marks on the timeline, we’ve had plenty of domestic struggles and many victories too. We’ve been constantly confronted with things that simply do not live up to our ideals. And in many cases, we’ve fought to reconcile and overcome them. From women's suffrage to the New Deal to Civil Rights to Technology, we've had to face our flaws, and try to find a better way. America is a complex and unique place. Our history is full of things for which we should be incredibly proud, and others for which we feel embarrassed, even ashamed. There is an inherent messiness that comes with the pursuit of big and great things. And it can be difficult to wrap our heads and hearts around this messiness, but we believe that we must. Because just as America has done over the past 250 years, we each strive, in our own way, to move forward, imperfect yet in earnest. 

Our Choice

This complexity and inescapable messiness is what we are all faced with everyday in our own lives and careers - this dichotomy of what's broken and what's possible. We see it all around us, in ways both big and small. We can’t help but recognize so many ways in which the world seems beyond repair, but if we look closely, we can also see so much cause for hope. If I wake up early in the morning and read the news, I might be totally bummed out. But when I go get my little daughter out of bed and she asks for a snuggle, all seems to be right in the universe. It seems that things are not totally dark nor totally sunny, there is both, and we have to accept that.

If we truly care about making things better, we must be willing to acknowledge what we find wrong, ugly, and in need of change, AND we must be able to see the beauty and humanity and possibility in the world. Veterans, if anybody, can certainly appreciate this. We have seen the absolutely horrific things that people can do to one another AND we’ve experienced the astounding power of brother/sisterhood. We’ve watched unspeakable destruction AND we’ve witnessed unimaginable kindness in the midst of that destruction. So what do we do with all this? We can see it all, the good, the bad and the ugly - but what we choose to focus on is what will make all of the difference. We get to decide how we manage our limited resources. We get to choose whether we want to be totally disengaged, totally overwhelmed, or perhaps something more productive. We encourage you to find a healthy, middle path. 

Some Encouragement

Our Veterans Day message to you is this. Whether you are a Veteran or not, here are some things that will help you to effectively navigate a world that is so full of both challenge and opportunity:

1. Stay in the Fight. Do not be discouraged or dissuaded or otherwise convinced that you do not matter or can't make a difference. You do and you can. We need you engaged. You can’t help if you don’t show up. When things seem tough. Just keep going. As we always said at Ranger School, you never quit at night. Just keep going till daylight and see that doesn’t help you stay with it.

2. Look it in the Eye. Don't be afraid to acknowledge challenges and difficulties in the world...or in your own life. There’s plenty we’d prefer not to see, but we can’t just look away. Accepting that something is wrong is the first step in addressing it. Just because something is wrong, doesn’t mean that everything is. 

3. Do What You Can. Stay focused on what is within your control/influence. Don't be overwhelmed or distracted. Ounces make pounds and pennies make dollars. And small things don’t just add up, they compound! Progress can be slow, but will accelerate if we keep making deposits.

4. Do It Together. Veterans understand the power of teamwork and camaraderie. And we know that when we put the mission first (ahead of self, identity, background, etc.) we can accomplish great things. Do not go it alone! Lean on each other. Invite others to join. And if things do feel like too much, reach out, and get connected to help. 

Bottom Line, We Need You!

We know that it is easy to look at your TV or laptop or phone and see all of the ways in which the world is struggling. It’s also easy to throw our hands up and convince ourselves that the problems are too big and too far away for us to do anything about them.

We don’t want you to look away from those things, but we also don’t want you to be consumed by them. 

Whether it is across the globe, in Washington DC, down the street, or at your kitchen table - we want you to recognize the flaws and the possibilities. We want you to remember that your efforts will not be perfect…but that nothing done in earnest is ever done in vain. If we do that, we can continue to make our lives, communities, and the world a better place...together. 

HAPPY VETERANS DAY!

The Unknown Distance March

We originally posted this blog in March 2020. With the recent shooting in Maine, the war in Israel, and other events, life feels especially heavy. We felt sending this piece out again was timely, as we try to remember to stay on the path and lean on others when we need to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a reason why the Rangers, the Green Berets, and many other Special Operations Units use unknown distance ruck marches to assess candidates during selection and build grit and resolve during training. The ruck is often called “the ultimate equalizer”. It can make a 250lbs linebacker fall by the wayside while a 140lbs teenager drives on. The ruck does not discriminate and it does not relent. 

But those who really know, know that the unknown distance march isn’t about the weight of the ruck or the number of miles covered.

It’s about the uncertainty – the ability to persevere through continuous hardship for however long it takes. It’s about learning to focus on the mission, not the moment. 

Ruck marching is a painful endeavor to begin with, even when you know how far you’re traveling. But walking an unknown distance at night over punishing terrain teaches you a lot about yourself and your teammates. 

The one penetrating thought that seeps into your mind amidst the strain and the pain is whether or not you will quit. Will you break when it gets hard, the finish line is nowhere in sight, and you just want it to end? Or will you find the strength to keep pushing, to lean on your teammates, and complete the mission? Sadly, it’s the ones who take a knee on the side of the road that never get back up and never see what’s at the top of the hill.

In 2006, I had the privilege of competing in the Best Ranger Competition and the unknown distance march put a microscope on my resolve and my reliance upon my teammate. Jeremiah Pittman and I stepped out, like the rest of the teams, at “0-Dark-Thirty” and I knew it was going to be a rough night. Seven years earlier, I had learned an important lesson about myself during the grueling 61 days of Ranger School. You can starve me, you can smoke me, you can load me down with weight and you can make me walk for days on end. But sleep deprivation is my weakness. 

The Best Ranger Competition is like an Ironman on steroids. It’s 60 miles in 60 continuous hours with no sleep, interlaced with common Ranger tasks and tactics like shooting, land navigation, parachuting, obstacle courses and other events to push the limits of endurance. The mission for every competitor standing in their two-man buddy teams at the starting line is simple: cross the finish line. Most do not accomplish their mission. The march started after the first 20 hours of non-stop competition, and I was exhausted. Though always a strong ruck marcher, a few miles in I was droning (falling asleep while walking) and hallucinating. We had no clue how long the event would last. The only instructions were go! Until you’re told to stop. Relying on my teammate, I kept putting one foot in front of the other as he nursed me with packets of electrolytes, sugary drink mixes, candy bars and encouragement. It was miserable and I just wanted to stop and go to sleep. But I didn’t. I wasn’t going to let my teammate down.  

The musky Georgia night lurched on one footfall at a time. Walk the uphills, run the downhills. Hope began to stir as we passed other teams of Rangers, giving them a thumbs up and a word of encouragement as they dropped behind us two by two. Jeremiah knew just how to awaken me fully, “hey, let’s start counting the bodies we pass and just run our race, B.” 1 Team…2…3…4…the teams would emerge on the horizon and fall behind us to the road. Jack and Jill. Up the hill. 

Eventually, the sky tore open and a southern storm erupted upon the pines and the asphalt. We dropped the hammer and ran most of the miles thereafter. When we finally emerged into a clearing and were told to get on the trucks, only two teams had made it in before us. We would go on to place 3rd in the competition, but I never would have seen the finish line without my Ranger Buddy. Those lessons stay with me today, as our country finds itself in the middle of an unknown distance march, stuck in social distance, taking it all one day at a time. I hope sharing these lessons will offer some perspective that will help you to take care of each other and see this thing through.

Some lessons from the under the ruck:

• The Mission > The Moment: no hardship lasts forever, keep going and remember why you started in the first place. Lean on those around you.

• Settle In and Temper Your Expectations: unknown means just that, stop trying to guess when it ends; setting your mind to mile 16 will shatter your spirits come mile 17.

• Look for Signs of Unsettling: they may sound a lot like, “hey, the team is asking me when you think this will end…” or “asking for a friend, but when do you think we can go back to normal?” Interpretation: I’ve had it, and I want this to end. Now.

• Don’t Go It Alone: come alongside and encourage one another when it’s hard; you will get through this, together. 

• Tell the Truth: No one can read your mind, if you’re hurting, say you’re hurting so your team can solve the problem; hiding a personal weakness will become a team liability.

• Encourage, Don’t Complain: the very last thing we need is to hear one more person say, “this sucks”…we know! You can acknowledge the adversity, but don’t belabor it!  

• Never Leave a Fallen Comrade: a tactical halt to collect yourself is a lot different than quitting; leave no one behind.

• Finally - Never, Ever Quit! 

The unsettling events happening around the world and in our backyards are tough to handle. It can be difficult to see our way out of it, and we may feel helpless about what to do to stop it. At this moment, with all the uncertainty before us, perhaps the best actions to take are to start by asking yourself two questions: how are you doing, really, and who are you leaning on? 

Thumbnail photo credit: Colton Duke @csoref via Unsplash.

You're Looking Right at It

We humans tend to overcomplicate things, especially our personal challenges. We spend countless hours and dollars searching for the answers. We listen to all the podcasts and read all of the books. We write in our journals, meditate and ask for advice - ever hopeful that if we just keep thinking about it, we’ll eventually find a clear, and ideally painless, path toward what we’re seeking. 

I’ve noticed this tendency in myself, and it’s something that I’ve thought about a lot in recent years. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. We all have times when we know something is amiss. It is keeping us awake at 3 a.m. or consuming our thoughts while we’re driving in the car. We can literally feel that it needs to be addressed. And here is the worst part - in most cases, we know what we need to do. 

For many of our most difficult problems and greatest aspirations, we can find relatively simple solutions or strategies to get us where we want to go. The big gap between where we are and where we want to be is less often about knowing what to do and more often about actually doing what we need to do. But instead of taking swift action, we opt instead to just keep thinking about it. Why are we doing this!?

Whether it is a hard conversation that I need to have, a bad habit that I need to break, or a limiting belief that I just can’t shake, I’ve found that there are always simple and obvious steps that I can take to move meaningfully forward. I will literally say to myself, “Blayne, you’re looking right at it”. Yet, still, I can struggle to do what I know needs to be done. 

With the benefit of some personal reflection, lots of help from trusted advisors, and dozens of consulting engagements, I’ve identified three big obstacles that most commonly stand in our way. 

1) We conflate challenging with complicated

The first obstacle is that we believe that big problems require big, complicated solutions. There is something unsettling about the idea that a seriously troubling issue could be remedied by a relatively simple solution. It is almost as if that invalidates our worry and suffering. Or perhaps it makes us feel foolish for letting it persist for as long as we have. And the more time that passes, the more we convince ourselves that we’re dealing with some kind of intractable challenge - it must be, or we clearly would have addressed it by now! 

To help myself overcome this dynamic, I’ve embraced a mental model called Occam’s Razor. This heuristic suggests that when considering multiple hypotheses or explanations, it’s best to favor the simplest one. Parenting young children has really helped me with this. I love the acronym HALT - Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired. When a kid is upset or misbehaving, it typically stems from one or more of these four basic issues. It’s unlikely that they have some kind of learning disability or festering resentment toward their parents; they probably just need a snack and a hug. Adults aren’t much different. 

When I’m having some kind of existential crisis and feel totally exhausted, I probably don’t need to rethink my career or move off-grid; taking a half-day and going for a hike with my wife might do the trick. 

Feeling sluggish and unmotivated on Monday morning? Should probably skip pizza and beer next weekend.

Getting the silent treatment from a colleague? Maybe just ask how they’re doing.

Is the sales funnel looking a little thin? Might try doubling the number of prospecting calls for the next 30 days and see what happens.

And we need to be careful because for whatever difficulty we’re facing, there is surely some kind of industrial complex built around it and plenty of vendors looking to sell us a cutting-edge solution. Some of them may work, but I’d guess that most of them are making money by appealing to this sense that important problems must have sophisticated (and expensive) solutions. 

2. We don’t like the obvious answer

The second obstacle is that the obvious solution is simply unappetizing - we just don’t want to do it. Simple doesn’t equal easy, and while the answer may be very straightforward, it may also be painful. 

Not all problems can be solved by a long weekend at the lake or a couple of late nights grinding away. Some challenges require us to make hard decisions. We may have to disappoint somebody or hurt their feelings. We might need to kill a project that just isn’t working out. We may even have to walk away from a relationship that’s killing us. We don’t want to do these things because they suck. And we’re willing to continue suffering a little every day in order to avoid the obvious yet uncomfortable truth. 

“No question is so difficult to answer as that to which the answer is obvious. ”

— George Bernard Shaw

How many people do you know (including yourself) whose life would be markedly better if they could just make one big change? Can you hear yourself saying, “Dude, you just need to quit drinking,” or “This job is ruining your life,” or “You can’t keep eating like this,” or “You’re a great guy, but this isn’t working out, and I’ve got to let you go”...I bet you can. In so many cases, if we’re being really honest, we are clear on what needs to happen. But since we don’t want to do it, we hold off and look for some kind of workaround to emerge, or my personal favorite, the situation to “work itself out”. Any time I catch myself hoping that something will just buff out without my intervention, I know I’m in trouble!

3. We don’t actually want to solve this problem (or achieve this goal)

The third and most overlooked obstacle is that we don’t actually want what we say we want. As a young economics student, I was fortunate to learn the critical difference between stated and revealed preferences. There are a bunch of reasons why we tend to have serious gaps between what we say we value (our stated preferences) and what we truly value (our revealed preferences). It starts during childhood. We want to please our parents and teachers. We want to fit in with other kids. We want to be normal. And in the process, we develop all these ideas about what we should want out of life. We seamlessly adopt the beliefs and values of the people around us, which is just an adaptive human behavior, and it all works just fine until we wake up during our second year of law school wondering why the hell we’re doing this. 

 When you dig into a troubling aspect of your life or career or relationship, you may discover that you can’t even articulate why you’re doing it. It is entirely possible that you’ve made it a good ways down the road without pulling over to check the map. 

Maybe you don’t actually want to be an author or an entrepreneur or a lawyer or whatever title you once felt like you should be? Is it possible that you’re not sticking with your training plan because completing an Ironman really isn’t that important to you? I don’t know the answer to any of these questions, but I’m sure they are worth asking. In moments of frustration or doubt, you may well decide you’re absolutely aligned with your goal, and you just need to power through, in which case see obstacles #1 and #2. But if you look closely at what you’re pursuing and discover that it’s just barking up the wrong tree, then the obvious action might be to simply move on. 

We live in a world chock full of choices and possibilities, and it can be difficult to navigate. Don’t make it harder than it has to be. You have intuition, and it can help you. So the next time you’re feeling especially jammed up and you’re not sure what to do, ask yourself these three questions:

• Is there an obvious solution here?

• Am I willing to take a necessary but uncomfortable action?

• Is this what I really want to pursue?

My guess is that at least some of your hard problems have a simple solution, and you’re looking right at it.

Abundance Is a Choice

As we approach the end of the year, does anyone else feel a sense of urgency to check our scoreboard on what we’ve accomplished (or not) over the year? I sure do. Whether it’s work deadlines, health goals, book reading lists, and family milestones, all of it can be overwhelming, trying to figure out if 2023 will be in the win or loss column. It’s easier for us to focus on what we haven’t accomplished than to remember and have gratitude for what we have. One thing not going as we planned can throw our entire mindset into negative overdrive, where we focus entirely on the “have nots” or “did nots.”  

The news headlines of some tangible and terrible events worldwide and in the U.S., the social media bombardment of fear, and the upcoming holiday season only feed the theme of scarcity and comparison. We combine those significant events with our smaller sphere, and life becomes a zero-sum game. We perceive that it’s more complicated than ever to get what we want to keep what we have. 

Most of this is self-inflicted with the stories we tell ourselves. Creating a sense of abundance is something that I have to intentionally work on all the time. I’ve been telling myself plenty of stories lately. 

A significant project I wanted to finish by October has been delayed (I didn’t help the business grow enough). 

I haven’t traveled to see the out-of-state friends and family as we agreed (I suck as a friend and sister). 

My husband and I have three home improvement projects we want to get done (I’m the worst homeowner ever). 

I didn’t complete as many training hours toward my existing yoga teaching credentials as I mapped out (I’m burdening my fellow teachers at the studio). 

I may not accomplish my goal of competing in a jiu-jitsu tournament by the end of the year due to an injury (I’m falling apart). 

How many of you are thinking about how someone else locked in more partners for next year than you have, you aren’t on track to meet your sales revenue this year, the journal you said you’d write in daily hasn’t been opened since May, perhaps finances are so strapped you’re wondering how you’re going to make the holidays a great one for your kids. 

Stephen Covey created the terms “abundance” and “scarcity” in his seminal work, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. His definition of abundance happens when people believe that there’s enough success, opportunities, and resources to share with others. On the flip side, scarcity is the belief that if someone receives a big win, there’s less for others. 

Our entire mindset affects the way we create success and resiliency. A scarcity mindset can paralyze you, leaving you overwhelmed, depressed, and unsure of what action to take. The feeling of scarcity is a direct byproduct of fear. Once we understand how our fears limit our ability to see opportunities, we become less focused on making choices based on perceived fears. Trying to manage scarcity gets complicated. When we focus on what we don’t have or what we aren’t doing, it keeps us scrambling for the next thing. Scarcity is the ultimate feeling of FOMO.

Scarcity mindset

• Victim mentality and focusing the energy on what is missing 

• Thinks small, therefore avoiding risks

• Decisions driven by anxiety, fear, and a sense of powerlessness

• Sucks the positivity and motivation out of others

• Self-worth is established through comparison to others

Abundance drives you to action, feeling motivated and excited about possibilities. People who act within a realm of gratitude make deliberate and careful choices that align with the life they want to live and their values instead of hurrying through decisions to grab what they can. We can define our abundance when we focus on the long game and keep in sight what we are working toward. 

Abundance mindset

• Takes responsibility for actions and considers life’s opportunities

• Celebrates when others succeed

• Is willing to act big and possibly fail

• Increased sense of creativity and a beginner’s mind to growth

• Understand they always have a choice in how they act

“ Self-knowledge is no guarantee of happiness, but it is on the side of happiness and can supply the courage to fight for it. ”

— Simone de Beauvoir

After working through an intentional gratitude practice over the years, I’ve come up with three solutions we can use to create a theme of abundance in our lives: 

• Widen Your View - The ability to keep an attitude of enthusiasm and wonder, even when we hit roadblocks, will enable us to see more choices, opportunities, and options. Focusing on growth creates a love of learning and increases our resilience in finding solutions. If we focus on growth, we will believe that we can improve through hard work and doing our best. My 4-year-old has cheerfully reminded me time and time again when I get frustrated, “It’s okay, Mommy, just try again.” A myopic view of something being “impossible” or “never going to happen” only shuts us off from any clues presenting themselves that we can’t see.
  

• Create Win-Win Conditions - Whether in a professional or personal environment with others, create situations where you can align. Work together toward a shared outcome where you both feel successful and optimistic about the way forward. Celebrate and share the wins of those around you, enriching relationships. It takes a lot of inner work to know what we want and remain optimistic that good things are coming to us too. When evaluating a personal benchmark, define what abundance means to you. Perhaps you enjoy financial success, and your time with your family has been scarce because you’ve spent more time in the office than at home. View this as an opportunity to invest in some family activities to connect.
  

• Accept It If You Can’t Change It - Stop ruminating. If you can’t control it, stop obsessing. Ruminating involves regret and comparison. Reflection requires us to understand a lesson learned. Stop using your precious mental resources to fight against where you are right now. Give yourself a little grace, too. Whatever you have accomplished up to this point got you here. Here is where you’re meant to be right now. Here is good. We always have the choice of what we will focus on, the positive or the negative. Make peace with where you are and figure out what’s next. 

The Dude abides

We don’t need to take drastic measures to make up for whatever perceived insufficiency may exist. Most of the time, we just need to step back, look around at the big picture, reframe, and make minor adjustments to our attitude. In the meantime, the delayed work project will be better than initially planned; my friend and I have a trip together in January; new kitchen cabinets are on order; I’ll have taught nearly 70 yoga classes for our community by the end of the year; and my husband and I have a new bond in training jiu-jitsu together. 

Brick by brick. It’s nearly impossible to feel fear and gratitude at the same time. Simple, not easy.

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?