Walking Towards the Ocean
“I guess I’m stuck in a pool, but I really prefer swimming in the ocean.”
I was standing in a hallway at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice in New York, on a 15 minute break from the leadership development cohort I had been accepted into several months earlier.
It was March of 2018 and I had just celebrated five years in recovery from alcohol use disorder and compulsive gambling addiction. In taking responsibility for the actions I’d taken during active addiction, I’d served a brief amount of prison time for eight counts of felony theft related to the embezzlement of funds from my last employer in politics. After completing my sentence, I’d sought a way to rebuild my life, and had connected my experiences in the political world to my newfound recovery. Eventually I found a home at a national organization in the addiction space, where I had been working for nearly three years by the time I joined the leadership cohort. I enjoyed the work I did nationally and was eternally grateful for this second chance at a career, and yet, I continued to feel dissatisfied, coupled with an inner guilt that I was not grateful for what I’d been given.
Back in the hallway of John Jay College, I explained my feelings of unhappiness and guilt to David Mensah, the leadership trainer whose ideas and influence would play a tremendous role in my nascent leadership journey.. He listened intently and then presented me with a question I had never considered. “So, where are you swimming right now?”
I paused to consider the question, and then the answer poured out of me — “I guess I’m stuck in a pool, but I really prefer swimming in the ocean.”
This month — February of 2021 — I celebrated eight years in long term recovery. It has been three years since that fateful conversation with David — three years that have brought both smashing successes and overwhelming failures. Emotionally draining endings, as well as inspiring new opportunities. Deep bouts of sadness and fear, followed by exhilaration, wonder, inspiration and hope. And through each experience — the feelings, the company, the conversations, and the outcomes — one central theme has crystallized itself to me. In order to embrace my full potential and make a lasting impact, I must show up as an opportunity for others.
One year ago I found myself in Little Rock, Arkansas, where a crowd of 75 had gathered for the leadership training I’d be leading that day. A shy middle aged gentleman walked up to me before the start of the training. He was clearly nervous and perhaps intimidated by the large crowd in attendance, but he offered a handshake as a greeting and asked if I’d answer a question for him. I welcomed him and informed him that I was of course happy to do so. “Do you make people participate very much in this training?” Immediately I sensed the possibilities of this conversation and was eager to lean in and engage with this gentleman.
“Well,” I started, not trying to hold in my often sarcastic sense of humor, “You’re an adult so I don’t think I can make you do anything.” He chuckled at this somewhat obvious point and I saw his shoulders untighten ever so slightly. I continued, “But I do ask everyone to participate in our conversation, yes. Are you open to exploring this together for a minute?” He seemed a bit confused by my invitation, but nonetheless said that he would be. “Why are you hesitant to participate with this group?”
“Well,” he started, his eyes darting between his feet and some distant spot over my right shoulder, “I suppose I’m nervous about saying something stupid in a group this big. I’m pretty shy.”
“Awesome, thanks for sharing that with me!” I responded, and then I asked his permission for me to ask him a follow up question. “So when you’re worried about saying something stupid, who are you really focused on?”
He considered briefly, but pretty quickly landed on the answer — he said he was focused on himself. I asked him if he was open to a reframe on this and he said that he was. “What,” I asked him, “If you just saw everything you were going to say as a contribution to everyone else here?” He said he’d never considered that perspective before — that his voice was critical, and that he had in him the power to powerfully impact everyone around him. I asked him if he would consider this over the course of our time together that day, and he said he would. When I saw his hand shoot up about two hours into the day, I was absolutely thrilled and made sure to give him the opportunity to contribute to the space. At the end of the day he came up to me with a clear sense of pride and shook my hand.
“Thank you,” he said. He looked like he might say something additionally, but he couldn’t quite get it out. “Just…thank you.”
This and countless other moments are at the center of my life today. A life centered around investing in that leader in everyone else, empowering them to embrace their own power. By embracing their own power people can empower still others.
Eight years ago, I found myself overwhelmed and trembling with fear, looking at the wreckage of my life and feeling that the mountain ahead of me was too large to climb. I felt defeated, beaten, and overwhelmed. Unworthy of success and joy. Incapable of rebuilding and contributing to anyone, any community, and most of all, to myself. Yet along the way, a vision — a vision of investing in the leader in everyone around me, began to take shape.
Today, I see the ocean. I’m not swimming yet and yet I’m closer than I’ve ever been. I can hear the waves. I see the beach and the surfers and the seagulls.The breeze feels fresh on my face and the waves continue to grow louder. I keep pushing forward towards wet sand. Towards the ocean. Walking hand in hand with all the other leaders who’ve chosen to join me on this journey. We feel the cold water engulf our feet and together, we hold hands and dive in — each and everyone of us embracing our own power to swim freely in the ocean of life — the ocean of opportunity.
Michael King is the Director & Creator of The Communities Project and the Managing Principal of Impact Leadership Training & Coaching, LLC. Email him at michael@communitiesproject.org, or follow him on Twitter @michaelking1981.
