How can you channel your anger into powerful, productive action?

"You can't do it.”

I remember one of the first times I heard these words.

I didn’t have the perspective that I do today, so I took those words personally.

I said to myself, “watch me.”

Inside, I felt a pot of chicken noodle soup starting to boil.

The anger was real.

In fact, as I look back at my journey, some of the greatest moments of inspiration came from that source of anger.

The times when someone would say, “You can’t do it or there is no way something like this is possible.”

Laura Staley recently mentioned, “anger is the inverse of passion.”

Knowing what I know today, I believe there’s a grain of truth in that statement.

It took me a while to understand how to channel that anger in a productive way.

Using it as a source of creation, not a force of destruction.

As I think about the subject today, I can’t help but think of all of the times when I was told to shy away from anger.

Or the times when someone would say, “you’re angry, you need to change that.”

Today, especially now, I don’t choose to shy away from it.

I embrace it.

In fact, I welcome people who think “I can’t do certain things in life.”

I welcome such feedback, as I believe it could provide me with the much needed inspiration to achieve the exact thing I aspire for.

How do you or can you channel your anger into powerful, productive action?

“Have you ever cheated on a test before?”

“Have you ever cheated on a test before?”

As Nicole continued to share her journey of helping her son prepare for a math final, I couldn’t help but think of my own experiences when I had to prepare for similar exams, especially those that I cheated on ... back when the dinosaurs were alive.

Just kidding, it wasn’t that long ago 🤦‍♂️

The memory that immediately came to my mind was of middle school.

In particular, a time when I along with a group of classmates cheated on a math exam towards the end of the year.

I’ll be honest, it wasn’t my first time nor my last.

In fact, the more that I think about it today, we got pretty good at it.

There was one technique that worked especially well.

“Students, please clear off your desks and place everything on the floor,” the teacher would announce before passing out the exam.

I’d put the thick, blue binder in front of my feet, with the practice exam on top of it.

Then, I’d push the chair away from my desk, so there was a slight distance for my eyes to look down and see the practice exam.

You might be wondering, “Isn’t it a different test?”

You’d think so, but not always.

Oftentimes the only difference between the practice test and final exam were the actual numbers in the problems.

The equations or principles used behind solving the problems were the same.

The danger of this act was getting caught and facing the consequences.

I always wondered what the consequences would be if you got caught.

Do you get expelled or simply told not to do it again?

I didn’t want to find out.

So, I got creative with how I to do it.

If I had to turn the page on the practice exam, I’d use my right foot to flip the page over.

If I had to go back a page, I’d squeeze that page between both feet and bring it back.

I then would look up at the clock, as if I was concerned about how much time I had to finish the exam.

Talk about a time when my anxiety levels were through the roof ... this was definitely one of those times, even when I got "good" at the process.

Today, I ask myself, “Why did I cheat? What did I learn from cheating?”

I learned that I cheated when I felt ill-prepared.

The thought of failing was devastating.

One exam, at the time, could change the trajectory of the entire path moving forward. At least that’s how it felt in my mind.

Maybe if failure was embraced instead of looked down upon, it would have been a different experience.

There might not have been a need to cheat.

What if instead of receiving an “F” on an exam, I was asked, “What could you do differently next time? What did you learn from this experience?”

I now would like to ask you, “Have you ever cheated on a test? What has cheating taught you?”

What makes something awkward?

“How do you end a conversation?”

I was speaking to a person I’ve recently connected with, and this question came to mind.

As we approached the end or what appeared like an end to the conversation, I felt an awkward sense.

It was almost as if I forgot how to say, “Goodbye or talk to you later.”

Instead, I started to reiterate the same things I already said 30 seconds ago.

Can you relate?

Have you done this before?

Then, after a few seconds of nothing but silence, I said, “Well, I look forward to hearing from you soon. Have a great day!”

This wasn’t the first time I’ve experienced this.

In fact, I’ve been fascinated by this concept as long as I’ve been aware of it.

What does awkward even mean? What makes something awkward? Do all conversations have their own unique level of awkwardness?

In looking at previous experiences, I’ve realized that part of the awkwardness came from the event being different from the ones I’m used to.

The difference in environment, style of communication (some prefer to take a pause before speaking in order to think things through while others don’t), medium of communication (phone or in person), and many other differences.

I then came to a conclusion.

“It’s only awkward if I make it awkward.”

The only reason why this conversation appeared to be awkward is because of the expectations I had on how I thought it should end.

So, instead of looking at this as something to avoid, I started to look at this sense of awkwardness as something to embrace.

As you think about similar moments within your life, what does awkward mean to you? 

What makes something awkward? 

Do all conversations have their own unique level of awkwardness?

“Don’t jump ship. Stay the course”

“Don’t jump ship. Stay the course”

I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine when this came up.

As he continued sharing his journey of fulfilling his own purpose in life, I began to think about mine.

In particular, I began to think about my journey as a public speaker.

March 8th, 2020.

The day that I experienced my first test, financially, as a speaker.

I had multiple speaking engagements booked for the months of April and May, when I heard the news.

“I apologize, but we will be canceling this year’s event due to COVID-19 ...” the email read.

I sat there, in silence, with tears streaming down my face, as I was embracing the reality of the matter.

I had picked up my phone and called my closest friends.

“They’re all canceled,” I said.

Without hesitation, one of my friends said, “Stay the course. Those opportunities will come back in one way or another.”

Fortunately, through reframing the adverse circumstance into a learning opportunity, and with the help from my family/friends, I was able to overcome the feeling of what appeared to be lost opportunities relatively quickly.

It took some time, months if I’m being honest, for those opportunities to reappear in a different form.

In fact, this is one of the elements I continuously try to remind myself of.

Just because I am able to reframe adversity into opportunity relatively quickly, it still takes time for new opportunities to present themselves.

I could have jumped ship and folded my hand, but instead I stayed the course.

In fact, had I not gone through this entire experience, I would not have learned about new industries for me to explore, met people who have become a significant part of my journey, and developed even greater resilience than I had before.

Now, I believe, there’s a difference between pursuing something that’s not in alignment with who I am and something that is in alignment with who I am.

Public speaking is in alignment with who I am.

I know this because of my ability to deeply connect with others and hold a space where individuals can fully be themselves.

As you continue on your journey, I invite you to not jump ship and stay the course, if you’re in alignment with what you’re pursuing.

"They’re not even your real parents”

"They’re not even your real parents”.

I remember the first time I heard this statement. I was in middle school, seventh grade.

I was confused and in disbelief when I first heard these words. 

In fact, being adopted was a topic brought up multiple times throughout my middle school experience.

I remember being laughed at in school about being an adopted child, both on the playground and in the classroom.

Some kids teased, “Your real parents didn’t love you" or  "You were given up and will never be loved".

For some reason, “They aren't your real parents” stung more than any other remark.

Those words carried a dense feeling with them. It was as if an elephant was on my chest and I couldn’t breath.

I was paralyzed as these words cut deep inside of me.

I had a come back to many of the “jokes” the kids would say about me, or I would  just "laugh" it off even though on the inside I felt shame, embarrassment and loneliness when I was made fun of.

I think this is one of the reasons it was easy for me to connect with others who were made fun of.

I was able to empathize.

This time around though, when I heard..."they aren't your real parents," I didn’t know what to say.

I thought , “What does he mean by that?”

Unfortunately, the topic of conversation was quick, as many of the middle school conversations were, so I didn’t get a chance to ask him questions about what he meant by "real" parents. Was this the first word that came to his mind? Did he know it was hurtful? Did he hear it from his parents? Was it the only word he knew to distinguish the difference between his parents and my parents?

Today as I think about that experience, I get curious, “What does it mean to be a real parent? What is a parent?”

Far too often in life, I take meanings at face value.

I’ve accepted the definitions society presented to me in the past, but today I question what they truly mean to me.

In this chapter of my life, I am choosing to change that approach.

As I think about what makes a “real parent”, I can’t help but think about an individual who genuinely loves the child, supports, nurtures, encourages the child and provides a space for the child to be heard and to be seen, and appreciated for who they are.

From my perspective, it is so much more than being connected by blood.

I’ve been fortunate to experience the concept of parenting via multiple perspectives.

Not only via my parents, but also through those who are parents to others surrounding me.

What does being a parent mean to you?

What Makes You Want to Donate?

What makes you want to donate?

As Nicole Ash and I sat in our virtual Zoom office, thinking about the specific fundraising campaigns for the upcoming year to cover the cost of managing Overcoming Odds (producing podcast episodes, curating stories that people share, organizing virtual events, holding weekly space for deep, meaningful conversations), I began to think about my own experience of donating and the challenges I had faced prior to making those decisions.

I asked myself, “What is the real challenge of donating? Is it not knowing how the money will be spent? Is it lack of trust between the donor and the organization? Is it something completely different?”

Although, I think trust, credibility and/or personal connection to the cause play a role, I began to think that there was more to it.

For me, my thoughts led me to a feeling.

I think the act of donating and how much I donate is measured by the feeling that comes over me.

In particular, the feeling of what it took to earn the money.

As I looked at the previous experiences where I chose to give, I noticed a difference between giving $5 verses $10.

Both decisions were intentional, the difference was the perceived reality of what it took to earn either the $5 or $10.

In my mind, it appeared more difficult to earn $10 than $5.

The labor was the same, but the difference is how long it took to earn the amount.

Today, I challenge you to donate $5 to a cause of your choice, AND ask one other person to donate $5 to a cause of their choice.

Think about the difference we could all make by doing this.

What is the value that you placed on the $5? Does it register as a $5 donation in your mind? Does it make you feel good to donate? Do you realize you are making a difference?

Should you choose to donate to Overcoming Odds, in advance, my gratitude and appreciation.

Let us all take a moment and think about the significant impact we can have on our communities who need our donations.

"The Problem is YOU"​

"The problem is YOU.”

It took me a few years to fully understand this phrase after I first heard it.

I remember situations where I’d be asking myself, “How could the problem be me when from my perspective the problem was the other person's?"

This was an especially difficult reframe when the conflicts became violent.

Well, years later, I finally understood the meaning behind the initial message.

In fact, yesterday, as I was having a conversation with a friend of mine, the meaning behind the initial message became even more clear.

In recent days, I’ve experienced a lot of tension when I have heard others speak on behalf of someone else’s experience and use the words “we should ... we must ... we need to ...”

Sitting at my kitchen table, reading others posts and thinking to myself, “How does he know what I am feeling? Why is she including me and using 'we'? That is not how I feel!"

It was in that moment, I realized an important element.

The tension I was experiencing had nothing to do with the other person’s writing, it had everything to do with how I was seeing the perceived reality.

I thought, “It’s possible that the person feels so strongly about a particular point that he or she chooses to use ‘WE MUST or WE NEED TO’ to convey a point”.

At that moment, I felt at ease.

I was no longer having what felt like a world war inside of me.

I was able to see the other person’s possible reality.

The problem is ME because it is only a problem for me. It may not be a problem for the other person.

“We need to ... We should ...”

“We need to ... We should ...”

There were many times throughout my life when I used these statements and if I am being honest with myself, I probably still do at times.

Whenever I was asked a question, especially one demanding an answer to a problem, I’d respond with, “We need to ... or we should ...”

It wasn’t until two years ago, when I met Brian Kelly, that I became aware of what I was doing.

I was speaking on behalf of everyone by using “We” when the reality of the matter was I haven’t walked a single step in anyone else’s shoes.

At that moment I began to ask myself, “What gives me the authority to speak on behalf of everyone else’s experience? Who’s "WE"?

In listening to Brian speak on numerous occasions, I began to notice a change that was happening internally.

I started to use “I” statements instead of "We."

Using "I" statements gave me a sense of ownership and responsibility over my words.

I also struggled to accept that I needed to change another word I used frequently.

I changed “need or should” to “invite or encourage”.

It took me months of consistent practice, using these words properly in order to make them habits that I incorporated into my everyday routine.

[Now, the challenge becomes what do I do when I hear these statements. How do I deal with my discomfort? That's a topic for another conversation.]

As I stated previously, there are still times when I use these statements, “we need to or we should.”

The difference now is that I am able to catch myself and correct the behavior.

I invite you next time you use “we need to or we should”, whether it’s in your next blog post or the next conversation. Ask yourself, "Who’s 'We'"?