Man, Interrupted
“I’m a big man. I got big plans.”
— Big Shaq, “Man Don’t Dance”
I hope you had some huge Labor Day plans and did them.
Nah, not “did them.” Lived them.
I, however, did not.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. I had big plans. But the universe intervened.
Sunday morning, I picked up some groceries. I noticed something was funny as I pulled out of the parking lot.
As I got home and called the kids down to help put stuff away, I felt it:
The aura.
Some of you have no idea what I’m talking about.
Others of you had chills run down your spine, as if remembering a ghost who occasionally haunts you.
I had no pain yet, but my brain had become a ticking time bomb. A migraine was about to put me down like Will Ferrell in Old School.
I ignored the side-eye from at least one of my offspring and stumbled upstairs, holding the railing to avoid disaster.
I shut the blinds tight and stayed in bed for at least 4 hours during which it felt like an ice pick was probing around for something inside my skull.
But pain arrived with a present. I asked what the best version of myself would do. And this was the answer:
Relax into the pain.
Embrace it. Explore it. Stop resisting.
It’s what I would tell any coaching client to do. Granted, those scenarios are usually business or relationships. But physical pain is a prime testing ground for our resilience.
Don’t get me wrong: the physical pain did not get better. In fact, it probably felt worse.
But I lost the emotional baggage that came along with the sharp pain in my head. I was no longer a victim but an agent.
Temper Trap
An older version of myself would’ve resisted, by which I mean “throw a violent temper tantrum in my head.”
To be clear, those holiday weekend “plans” consisted mostly of:
- writing this newsletter
- planning a family gathering
- getting ahead on LinkedIn posts
- and designing my basement as a podcast studio
Namely: work.
An observer might say, “Hey, at least you didn’t have a trip ruined.” And they’d be right.
But the man in the arena sometimes has a difficult time being objective (or woman).
To old Andrew, my plans being work would have only added insult to injury. It’s easy to feel sorry for yourself when your attempts to make your life better (through action) are “continually” thwarted. It’s a sneaky kind of victimhood, because the victim is atypical: hard-working and ambitious.
But it’s exactly this kind of self-indulgence that makes it harder to achieve what you want.
It’s a hopelessness spiral.
“Eighty percent of success is showing up.”
— Woody Allen
Showrunner
I said “...‘ruining’ two days” up top that way for a reason.
Because you get to decide whether something is positive or negative. Whether you’re a victim or a leader. A mere pawn or someone with agency.
Some of you are saying, “Sure, what about death?”
In his book Even This I Get to Experience, legendary TV producer Norman Lear makes the case that there are silver linings even in the darkest of times.
Two ways I flipped the script and embraced that present struggle—with…presence:
1. Be grateful
Say: I don’t have to do this. I choose to do it.
Ask: How would a role model handle this?
2. Be curious
Say: Oh, this aspect is interesting…
Ask: What can I learn?
The next day the migraine was better, and I didn’t feel behind. So I could give the day—and myself—100%.
The biggest question elite performers need to ask is:
How do I ensure my best self consistently shows up?
These tools help you do that.
❤️ Andrew
🎵 Outro
“Life doesn’t need a soundtrack. Life is a soundtrack.”
—Sri
How Big Shaq is not bigger eludes me. 600k monthly listeners on Spotify doesn’t do his genius justice.
A ridiculous genius I’ll grant you:
Cheers
🧠 Let’s talk: Want to turn your pain into progress? Grab a free slot to meet with me, and let’s get you unstuck. 💥 🙌
🔎 Find me on LinkedIn.
🎧 Podcast: Spotify | Apple
👉 Let me know how I did. I’d love to hear from you.
