The Glittery Truth About Bad Advice (And What Actually Works)

If you’ve ever told a tantruming toddler to “calm down,” you know how far bad advice gets you. I’ve heard that bad advice is a lot like glitter — it’s everywhere and impossible to get rid of. The truth is, most people give advice because they’re trying to help, hoping to feel helpful, or just looking to connect. It’s rarely malicious — just a little misguided. Here are a few of the worst pieces of advice performers hear, why they don’t actually help, and how we can do better.

1. Just pretend it didn’t happen.

The brain and body don’t just forget painful experiences — they’re wired to remember them so we don’t repeat them. That’s why “just pretending it didn’t happen” rarely works. Instead, acknowledge the experience, notice how it made you feel, and recognize what you’re thinking about it. Then, refocus on what you can control — your mental and physical response.

2. Be fearless.

Fear isn’t the enemy. In fact, it can be adaptive — a sign that you care, and it can even act as a performance enhancer. Plus, no one is truly fearless. A better goal is to accept fear and act courageously anyway: move forward with the fear, instead of waiting for it to disappear.

3. You must be calm to play your best.

If sportscasters talking about “ice in their veins” have misled you, it’s not your fault. We tend to equate heroic performances with being calm — but that’s not reality. The best in any field often feel just as nervous or scared as the rest of us. The difference is they accept those feelings, focus on what they can control, and move forward bravely.

4. Stop thinking.

Telling someone to stop thinking is like standing on train tracks with your arms out, hoping to halt an oncoming locomotive. The brain is wired to scan, process, and think constantly — trying to stop it is both impossible and unnecessary. A better approach is to become aware of your thoughts, nonjudgmentally, and let them pass freely. It’s like stepping off the tracks, noticing the train go by, and then refocusing on something you can control.

5. Stay Positive at all times.

Another impossibility. Because performers care, they’re bound to feel frustration, sadness, or disappointment when things don’t go as planned. Instead of forcing fake positivity, acknowledge these emotions, consider where they come from, and, to the best of your ability, refocus on the next task.

6. Confidence is knowing you will be successful.

This is a set-up. No one knows or believes they will always be successful—there’s simply too much that is outside of your control. Additionally, that suggests that you will naturally and consistently perform well based on your confidence.l The best baseball players are only successful at the plate three out of ten times. True confidence is believing in your skills and trusting that you’ll be okay if it doesn’t go perfectly. It’s resilience, not certainty, that makes performers confident.

So, I’ll leave you with one piece of unquestioned, undefeated advice: Don’t have glitter in your house. Trust me — your future self will thank you.

Have a Hobby

Some recognize this musical icon as Bey, some by Beyonce, but how about Queen Beekeeper? Did you know that Beyonce is an avid beekeeper and cares for several hives at home?

How about Mookie Lebettski? All-star baseball player Mookie Betts just so happens to be a professional-caliber bowler.

OR my personal favorite, DJ D-Sol (also known as David Solomon, CEO of Goldman Sachs) who, in addition to his impressive day job, has over 280,000 monthly Spotify listeners. 

It may come as a surprise that these three wildly successful individuals, and many others like them passionately pursue other hobbies. But, research is clear: cultivating diverse interests — and therefore multiple identities — enhances performance and supports career longevity. Hobbies also tend to reduce burnout, improve creativity, and aid recovery.

Far too often, the identity of high performers is unidimensional. They become defined by their main pursuit. “I am an athlete.” “I am a musical artist.” “I am an executive.” When individuals recognize their many interests, core values, and personality traits, it can relieve some of the unnecessary pressure of living up to one’s singular view of themselves. 

It appears that we're at our best when we’re more than just one thing. A fuller sense of self doesn’t dilute your performance—it enhances and sustains it.

Fear Preys on the Unprepared

Imagine you are walking, unsuspectingly, down an L-shaped hallway when, out of nowhere, someone jumps out and screams in your face. At best, you jump backwards and gasp; at worst, the person who has frightened you gets an old-fashioned knuckle sandwich. Now, envision you are walking down a straight hallway when you see a passerby approaching from roughly 20-feet. As they come close, they shout, “Boo!” You give them a puzzled look, perhaps chuckle, and continue your progress, taking the sudden or unexpected outburst in stride. That “corner” can be the opening serve of a match, the first tee box, the moment before stepping up to a podium and speaking to a crowded room.  Fear loves to hide around the corner, and when it does, it hijacks performance. 

When we are prepared for moments of fear, we move out of reactivity and into deliberate action. We use the rational/thinking part of the brain, not just the survival portions of our brains. We respond thoughtfully, not just instinctively. Proactively preparing for moments of performance anxiety, understanding our anxiety triggers, and responding with clarity creates power and control in performance settings. 

The goal is not to eliminate the fear altogether (fear is normal and even protective—it keeps us safe and it signals that we value what we are doing). Instead, our mission is to move from “reacting” to “responding.” To do that, we must prepare our minds as much as we prepare our bodies for these L-shaped hallway moments. 

In order to turn Oh S*** moments into Oh Yeah moments in the future, try to: 

• Anticipate the Corners: Know your triggers and expect pressure-packed moments to alter your mind and body…Be sure to have a “Response Plan.”

• Breathe!: In through the nose, out through the mouth to ground yourself.

• Anchor yourself: Have a mantra/word that calms/focuses your brain or rely on a small physical gesture that clears mental clutter (i.e., Tipping your cap, closing your golf glove, etc.). 

• Reframe the Signal: Remind yourself that you are excited, prepared, and fear indicates value.

• Run Mental Reps: Visualize, using all five senses, encountering moments of fear with clarity, commitment, and calm focus.

What Does Try your Best Really Mean?

Try your best is definitely better advice than be the best, but is it really good advice? We can all agree that this platitude highlights the importance of exerting maximum effort, but it is frustratingly vague. What does “best” even mean? How do you quantify best? A result? A feeling? Exhaustion? 

Without a clear measure, this advice is hard to act on and often leaves individuals asking: Did I train hard enough? Was that truly my best? Could I have prepared differently? This ambiguity breads a cycle of striving, falling short of impossible standards, harshly overanalyzing perceived shortcomings and feeling perpetual disappointment.

This euphemism seems to be particularly problematic for the hypercritical, talented perfectionist. Similarly, for those most accustomed to winning, trying your best tends to be equated with victory, not effort, outcome, not process. skilled (and often hypercritical), Trying your best is frequently tied to external markers—winning, PRs, accolades—and does not account for uncontrollable factors like circumstance, luck and the performance of others.

Instead of telling others to “try their best”, coaches, parents, mentors and those being encouraged to perform would benefit from more specificity. Speak with clarity about what preparedness looks and feels like. Discuss the importance of resilience, a growth mindset, and maintaining focus. Talk about the many ways “success” can be defined.” In the end, “try your best” isn’t bad advice, it’s just incomplete.

The Warden and the Prisoner

For the length of his term, an inmate wakes each morning, completes his daily routine, and ends his day with his head on the flattened jail pillow. Feeling trapped and imprisoned, unable to come and go as he pleases, he laments the reality of his concrete world and wishes he could escape. As he paces around his cell, keys on his waist jingle and jangle. Only later does he realize the truth—the keys to his jail cell have been in his possession the entire time. He is not only the prisoner—he is the warden as well. 

When we engage in negative self-talk, we step into that same prison. We believe the belittling voice in our heads and entrap ourselves, forgetting that we are the captive and captor. Here’s the paradox: if your thoughts can lock the door, they can also unlock it. The same voice that locks you up can set you free.

It can be unsettling to realize your own negative self-talk is what’s keeping you stuck—but it can also be liberating. Reclaiming control starts with how you respond to patterned, negative thinking. So the next time you hear that familiar jingling, reach for the keys and step into your freedom.

The Keys to Unlocking Your Mental Prison

-Breathe: Deep breathing is not only calming, but helps you regain access to your “thinking brain.”

- Practice Self-Compassion: Speak to yourself as you would a loved one or friend.

-Acceptance: Accept automatic, intrusive, negative thinking, but focus instead on your response to it.

-Mindfulness: Watch negative thoughts pass by like clouds in the sky, cars on a highway, or scores scrolling on the ESPN ticker.

Obey the Speed Limit

If you have played even one or two rounds of golf, you’ve been there. One bad shot turns into two, self-compassion turns into self-criticism, and your once calm, slow pace—mentally and physically—is now traveling at the speed of light. As the fight-or-flight response activates, everything becomes more rapid: heart rate, breath rate, walking pace, thoughts, and yes, even your swing. As your pace accelerates, unfortunately, so does your score.

It makes sense. When things go poorly, you either want to get it back on track as quickly as possible or escape even faster. 

This is not unique to golf—human brains are wired to prioritize safety when they sense a threat. The quickest path to “safety” is avoidance. Unfortunately, our brains cannot distinguish between a physical threat (i.e, the lion chasing you) and an emotional threat (i.e., embarrassment, disappointment, discomfort). Whereas speeding up would actually protect you from physical threats, it often exacerbates emotional pain and scorecard peril. 

So, next time you are on the course and one poor shot turns into two, notice the rapidity of your heart rate, breath, and unproductive thinking and Obey the Speed Limit. Consciously walk slower, inhale and exhale more slowly, even waggle slower. As your breathing, thinking, and routine decrease in tempo, your brain recognizes that “we are not in actual danger” and immediately you regain control of your round. Bad shots happen—spirals don’t have to. If you decelerate, you are not just managing your game, you are mastering your mind.

The "Eras Tour" Blueprint: The Science of Peak Performance

What you saw: 149 sold-out shows over 21 months. 517 hours on stage. Concerts spanning five continents and 21 countries. More than $2 billion in ticket sales, $440 million in merchandise, and a concert film grossing $261 million. These are just a few of the mind-boggling Eras Tour stats.

What you didn’t see: Three-hour punishing treadmill runs while belting out 40-plus songs as if she were on-stage. Six days a week in the gym. More than three months of choreography rehearsals until every move became second nature. Regular ice baths, physical therapy, and mobility work. Post-show vocal cool-downs. Abstinence from alcohol. Prioritizing sleep. Even full days intentionally spent in bed to recover her voice and revitalize her body. This was the process behind the curtain.

Greatness doesn’t just descend onto the stage from the rafters in front of thousands of adoring fans. It doesn’t happen by chance or luck. And, it is most certainly not only natural talent. It is the result of impeccable planning , unshakable resolve, relentless pursuit and off the scale grit. Sure, the Eras Tour outcomes are stunning, but the process behind these outcomes is even more awe-inspiring. 

Swifties and onlookers saw the packed stadiums, crying fans, astounding ticket resale prices, and nightly routines/rituals, but if you look more closely you would have seen a master performer reaping the benefits of deliberate preparation, commitment to a larger purpose (she ultimately bought back the rights to her entire song catalogue with her earnings), and a clear focus on what she could control.

Taylor Swift isn’t just a musician. She is an athlete. She is a professional. Taylor Swift is a Peak Performer. 

Adjust your Effort OR Adjust your Expectations

How’s your Mandarin? How about your knife juggling? Tight-rope walking? 

Probably not great. 

And, that’s perfectly reasonable—you also likely do not expect to be proficient in these objectively difficult tasks. When we have not put in the time to practice, learn, and improve, typically we do not feel frustrated with our struggles.  Our expectations are aligned with our practice.

So why is it that golfers who never go to the range, rarely practice putting, and seldom do skill drills slice their first drive, curse under their breath, and spend the rest of the round bathing in frustration? Sure, they have not performed up to their standards on the course, but is the problem related to their performance or their expectation.

There’s an old saying, “You can’t have million dollar dreams and ten dollar habits.” Golf is no different, so you have a choice: adjust your effort or adjust your expectations. 

2,632 Straight: Lessons from the Ironman

 For a young boy growing up in Baltimore, Maryland, it was a no-brainer: if you liked sports, Cal Ripken Jr. was your hero:

• 21-year Major League Baseball Career

• 19-time All-Star

• Rookie of the Year Award winner

• 2-time AL MVP

• 3,184 career hits, 431 home runs,1695 RBIs

• The only player in MLB history to be managed by his father while playing alongside his brother

You might read this list and think: Of course he was great—he came from a baseball family, he was naturally gifted. But focusing on that obvious advantage might cause you to miss the point completely.

Because I left out the most important stat of all: 

Cal Ripken Jr., The Ironman, played 2,632 consecutive games—spanning more than 16 seasons—without missing a single start.

Sure, he was tall, athletic, and redefined the shortstop position, but what made him an athletic hero wasn’t his raw talent and gaudy numbers, it was his consistency, his durability, and his commitment to his team and the process. Cal could have acted entitled—the son of the coach, the golden boy—but instead, he embodied the hard hat lunch pail approach. In his Hall of Fame Speech, he said, “I never really thought about the streak… I wanted to come to the ballpark… to help the team win.”

The lesson is simple: Show up every day, rain or shine, ready to learn and grow.   Commit yourself to the process of improvement rather than focusing on the results and good things will happen. 

Chase dedication, commitment and grit—not outcomes.

Scottie “Dragonfly” Scheffler: Golf’s Quietest, Deadliest Predator

The Shark. The Bear. The Hawk. Tiger. Some of the fiercest predators on planet earth are also the nicknames of golf’s great champions: Greg Norman, Jack Nicklaus, Ben Hogan, and of course Tiger Woods. Surprisingly, none of these apex predators can match nature’s most efficient killer: The Dragonfly. What the dragonfly lacks in size, it makes up for in efficiency—with an astounding hunting success rate of 95%. Put simply, if you are in the dragonfly’s sights, you are lunch. Perhaps golf historians have been holding back, waiting for the perfect candidate. Well, wait no more. Meet Scottie Scheffler: The Dragonfly.

With nearly 360-degree vision and virtually no blind spots, they can predict their prey's path, intercept them mid-air and paralyze them with their vice-like grip. If that’s not terrifying enough, these aerial assassins employ motion camouflage—moving silently and imperceptibly until it’s too late. In the rare moments where they do misjudge an attack, their four wings adjust independently, so they can course correct in milliseconds. This is why they are nature’s deadliest hunters.

In his ascent to world number one, Scheffler shows the same traits. He appears to have no blind spots and if you are in his sights, he will track you down and finish you off with the calmness of an elderly couple on a Sunday stroll. By Sunday afternoon, competitors do not seem to know what hit them, stunned as the golf course bends to his will. On the uncommon occasion he falters, he immediately recovers, leading the tour in bounce-back percentage. Just as the dragonfly can hover, fly backwards, forwards and upside-down, Scheffler possesses all of the maneuvers, every shot in the bag. Each drive, chip, and putt a mesmerizing display as he strategically glides to yet another victory. 

Sure, the dragonfly may not have mesmerizing stripes, massive paws, talons, or razor-sharp teeth. It is unassuming, workmanlike—and some may even say boring. The same critique has followed Scheffer, who seems to only be concerned with two things: winning and family. Since when is efficiency boring? Since when is winning mundane?

From here forward, Scottie joins the ranks of golf’s great on-course predators and has a terrifying nickname of his own. All hail Scottie “Dragonfly” Scheffler. 

Reframe the Feeling. Rewrite the Result.

On a crisp fall morning, two golfers—one at Augusta National and the other at Pebble Beach—approach the first tee at exactly the same time. Though separated by hundreds of miles, their bodies respond in identical ways—rapid breathing, stomach butterflies, fast beating hearts, sweaty palms, and tense muscles.

One appraises this bodily experience as anxiety, a signal that he is unsure, insecure, and certain to fail. The other defines this physical experience as a sign of excitement, readiness, and the thrill of competition.

Appraisal theory suggests that your interpretation of a sensation (physical, cognitive, or emotional) shapes your experience. The fast beating heart could be a signal impending doom, but it also could be a result of excitement and readiness. When the “false alarm” of performance anxiety blares, reappraisal or redefinition is the key-pad code that silences the noise. As the Stoics preached, it is not the events themselves, but our judgment of them that shapes emotion.

So, the next time you tee it up, step on stage or approach the podium, remember that your fast beating heart, shallow breathing, and muscle tension don’t need to mean you are afraid. They can mean you are prepared and excited to seize the opportunity in front of you.

Get Lost.

One oppressively muggy summer afternoon, when I was six, I was dropped off by a friend’s parents at my grandparents’ house. Unbeknownst to these well-meaning adults, my grandparents had forgotten I was to be their responsibility that afternoon and they were not at home. It became immediately apparent to me that I was now alone, locked out of their house, and completely petrified. Since this was way before the advent of cellphones, I did what any wise six-year-old would do—lost my tiny mind and started screaming “HELP!” Getting lost—or even feeling lost—can be a miserable experience. It’s lonely, confusing, and scary.

But, is getting lost always a bad thing? I’d argue that, when it comes to performance, getting lost in the process is not terrifying, it’s downright delightful. Have you ever been so present, so deeply engaged in your performance that all of the other distractions (i.e., the results, what others think, even what you think) all fade to black? Whereas focusing on the results often leads to distraction, anxiety, frustration, and poorer performance, getting lost in the process can lead to a flow state—where effort feels effortless.

Put most simply, the process is what you CAN control. It is your practice, your pre-shot routine, remaining in the present moment, and what you choose to focus on. So, maybe getting lost isn’t always something to avoid, but rather something to aim for—as long as you are getting lost in the right things, those things that bring you joy or lead to desired growth. So, get lost in the present moment, in your breath, in your process. Who knows, if you get lost in the process, those results you’ve been chasing  might just find you.

What is Winning Anyway?

NFL: One Super Bowl Winner, 31 Losers

MLB: One Major League Champion, 29 Losers

NHL: One Stanley Cup Winner, 31 Losers

Masters: One Champion, 89 Losers

Wimbledon: One Slam Winner, 127 Losers

Yes, one team or athlete lifts the trophy—but are they truly the only winners? I’d argue that “winning” is far more nuanced: it's subjective, personal, and often defined by something deeper than the final score. 

So, what really defines winning? It clearly varies from person to person. For some, it’s the scoreboard statistics or tallys. For others it's simply participating, the comeback, the courage found, the growth initiated, or even the decision to step away.

After experiencing the “twisties” in the 2020 Tokyo Olympics—Simone Biles, arguably the greatest gymnast of all time—made the brave decision to sit out multiple events and prioritize her physical and mental health. Days later, she returned to win a bronze medal on the beam. For someone with seven gold medals, that bronze is likely her greatest triumph. Why? Because it embodied determination in the face of adversity, true courage, leadership, vulnerability, and a redefinition of success.

How about Rachel Hyland, the St. Lawrence University runner who, meters from the finish line in the Division III 5,000 meter race, stopped to help fellow competitor Maddy Adams who collapsed in front of her. She carried her to the finish line. She didn’t win the race, but won the hearts of many.

Maybe your “win” is holding the trophy, but what if your victory was a new personal best, growth under pressure, or learning something about your game that will help in future competitions? This shift in perspective is, in fact, a way to recognize that something meaningful and helpful can be taken from each performance. An improvement from your last performance, overcoming a fear, gaining experience, a personal record, simply finishing, or displaying strong sportsmanship— I would contend that these are all victories too. 

You don’t need to win in the literal sense to be successful—but you do need a clear understanding of what success looks like to you.” Winning isn’t just a result. Sometimes it’s a decision, a moment, or a mindset.

The question is: How do you define it?

The Finger Trap Effect: How Letting Go Improves Performance

If you have ever played with a Woven Finger Trap, you know that its simplicity is deceiving.  While your mind says I’ve got this, your fingers feel stuck the moment you try to extricate them. The harder you try the more the trap tightens. The more you resist, the worse it gets. Eventually, you relax, lean in, and smoothly dislodge yourself. 

Golf, both mentally and physically, operates like a Finger Trap. Think about a time when you start to struggle in a round. Mistakes compound and before you know it, your game (and your attitude) devolve. Once frustrated, you aggressively try to “fix” your game, try harder, and force it only to find that things get worse. Finally, you’ve had enough, declare the round “over” and give in. Magically, once you stop resisting and trying so hard, you string together a wildly different, much better stretch of golf. So, what’s the secret? Letting go and leaning in.

The best performers in any domain learn that the key to overcoming challenges is not fighting them, but rather letting go of rigid expectations. This reduces tension, doubt, and wasted emotional energy. Next time you face adversity, whether in golf or in life, remember the Finger Trap. Lean in, and you just might find the freedom you’ve been searching for. You will gain control over the puzzle rather than the puzzle controlling you. While you may not always achieve your desired result, you will gain a greater sense of freedom and control in those moments when you would have otherwise felt immobilized.

Can you think of a time when resisting and trying harder actually made things worse? 

What happened when you let go?

If at First You Burn Your Tongue…

After casing the joint, Goldie pops the lock and stealthily walks inside. She helps herself to a steaming hot bowl of porridge, burns her tongue, immediately curses in frustration and heads out the door with a first-degree burn and a second-degree felony.

Aside from the obvious don't break and enter message, there is another clear moral to this altered Goldilocks’ story. This remixed narrative is not exactly a tale of perseverance. One setback and she’s out? That’s not grit—that’s quitting. If you’re going to commit a crime, at least have the persistence to finish what you started.

I would suggest that the reason this children's tale has stood the test of time, despite its questionable messaging, is that it highlights the importance of stick-to-itiveness, highlighting the concept of continuing to try when at first you don't succeed. She is not satisfied with a meal that is too hot or too cold, a chair too firm or too soft, or a bed too big or too lumpy. In order to land at “just right” she had to persist through multiple failures.

Most often, failure is not what ruins performance, quitting is. Too often, athletes, executives, and other performers experience discomfort, and see it as a sign to admit or acknowledge defeat.. The burn, the hard chair, the lumpy bed should not be signs to leave, they are signs to keep going. Failure is a necessary and imperative part of the process. It is how we learn. If we give up too quickly, we leave on the table far too many opportunities to grow and improve.

The reason we glorify this fable is because she kept going. She tried another bowl. Then another. Then the chairs. Then the beds. She stuck with it and that’s what made the story interesting and what leads to the true moral. 

The road to success is paved with failures, frustrations, and disappointments. So, the next time you fail at something, you have a choice: Do you grow or do you give up?

Comparison: The Thief of Joy…and Peak Performance

Google “Michael Phelps Lane Photo” and you will find one of my all-time favorite sports photographs. The image captures a moment of contrast: one competitor clearly focused on his opponent and another, Michael Phelps, focused on the task at hand. One Olympian caught up in comparison. The other is the most decorated swimmer of all time. This is not a coincidence.

We often hear that comparison is the thief of joy, but I would argue it is the thief of peak performance as well. Attentiveness is supreme in the moments that matter. When your attention is on things you cannot control, you have taken your eye off of the proverbial ball. Staring at someone else's lane doesn't make you faster. It makes you distracted. This is why race horses wear blinders!

Attempting to beat or best another creates an ego and approval-based approach, rather than one focused on mastery and autonomy. Comparison leads to a focus on results, not the process, moving you further and further away from a flow state. I would suggest that this allows for  detrimental distractions.

Comparison distorts perception. When we measure ourselves against others, we tend to minimize  challenges others face, shortcomings, insecurities (i.e., they don’t get nervous, they never make mistakes, they always seem so confident, etc.) and exaggerate our own. 

So, next time you are in competition, stay in your own lane.

A few clarifying points: 

-I am NOT saying comparison has no place in sports.

-I am NOT saying you can’t use the success of others as a benchmark or inspiration

-I am NOT saying the score and/or pace of others can’t provide valuable information

-I AM saying comparison can be a distraction from your own process

-I AM saying true growth comes from self-reference, not self-judgment 

-I AM saying focusing on your lane—your craft, your values, your process—is the most reliable path to progress and performance.

Broken Bodies, Unbreakable Focus

Some believe it was the flu. Others claim it was food poisoning care of a late-night pizza delivery in Utah. Either way, Michael Jordan, His Airness, scored 38 points in 44 minutes of game five in the 1997 NBA finals and delivered one of the most iconic sports memories of my childhood.

Similarly, a pulled hamstring, swollen knee and no time to take batting practice are not exactly a recipe for success. However, on one fateful night in October of 1988, that’s exactly the circumstances Kirk Gibson and his World Series-winning Los Angeles Dodgers experienced when, with a hobbled body, he belted an unfathomable Game 1 Home Run.

Then there’s the ultimate competitor, Tiger Woods. Risking permanent damage at the 2008 U.S. Open, Woods limped down each fairway with a torn ACL, two stress fractures, cartilage damage and even extra playoff holes en route to his 14th major championship.

It would be laughable to suggest that illness or injury is performance-enhancing and I am not suggesting athletes ignore pain. I am, instead, highlighting the mental resilience and focus athletes can summon in less-than-ideal situations. When these limitations are interpreted as focus-narrowers, the important elements of performance are in plain view. 

When athletes endure certain ailments, they do not possess the mental energy to be concerned with pressure, technique or any other external factors, they can’t focus on anything other than what matters: the process and the skills previously mastered that require discipline not thought. The pain they experience forces them into the present moment and removes unnecessary distractions, bringing the essentials into plain view. So, next time you are concerned that you do not feel 100% physically or emotionally, don’t count yourself out. It may just provide the formula for unbreakable focus.

Be Curious, not Judgmental

In what has become my favorite scene in my favorite TV series, Ted Lasso, Ted hustles the antagonist in the episode in a game of darts while telling a prophetic story about being picked on as a child. In this story, he explains how he learned to let go of negative feedback from others who hadn’t even bothered to get to know him. While effortlessly defeating the bully, Ted shares the advice often misattributed to Walt Whitman: “Be Curious, Not judgmental.”

While it is phenomenal advice interpersonally (what could be bad about treating others with less judgment?), it is equally good personal advice (we often treat ourselves worse than we would ever treat another). When working with individuals and teams, I will ask if they talk to others as they do to themselves. After a few sheepish laughs, I often hear some version of, “Oh, heck no. I would never talk to anyone else like that!”

The question that begs answering is: when we are hesitant to allow others to treat us this way, why then, would we treat ourselves so poorly? (prioritizing curiosity over judgment) There are a myriad of answers to this question, but I often find that many of us truly believe belittling ourselves is the path to motivating ourselves and ultimately improving. There is one problem with that thought pattern or logic though: there is no research to suggest that this actually works. Instead, it appears to increase shame, halt progress, and in some cases, lead to anxiety and depression. 

One antidote to this type of harsh, negative, self-judgment, is what Raymond Prior, author of Golf Beneath the Surface describes as “interest curiosity.” When engaging in this type of internal questioning, individuals can say to themselves in a moment of difficult emotion, “Hmm, How interesting I think _________  will __________, when what it really does is __________.” For example: “Hmm, How interesting that I think calling myself horrible names after not getting that promotion will encourage and motivate me to do better, when in fact all it really does is keep my frustration levels high and leaves me thinking about the past, not the present moment I have control over.” 

Our judgment leads to fractured relationships with others and ourselves. Additionally, the abundance of judgment and the lack of curiosity negatively impact our performance athletically and professionally. If we truly engage more curiously and compassionately with ourselves and others we are far more likely to reach our goals and enjoy fruitful relationships along the way.

How has the way you have treated yourself impacted your performance?

Tell Me I Won’t. Tell Me I Can’t.

Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team and was told he wouldn’t succeed. He went on to win six NBA titles. After multiple neck surgeries, Peyton Manning was told he would never play football again. Subsequently, he won his second super bowl and set the NFL single-season passing touchdown record. JK Rowling was urged to “get a day job” after Harry Potter was rejected by twelve different publishers. It became the best selling book series of all time. Walt Disney was told he lacked imagination and we all know how that turned out. The world told them “you won’t, you can’t.” They said, “watch me.”

The takeaway…Greatness often begins where doubt enters.

We have all faced skepticism from within and from others. What matters is not the mere presence of doubt, but rather what you choose to do with it. You can believe the naysayers and walk away or you can buckle down, double down and bear down.

Doubt preys on performers too focused on the opinions of others, on proving rather than improving. Conversely, the greatest rely on their own conviction and choose to use doubt as data and fuel. So, when doubt arises, you have a choice: you can let it be the truth, the verdict, or you can allow it to strengthen your motivation and make it your turning point. 

How will you respond when doubt shows up next?

Cars, Clouds, Thoughts and Feelings: This Too Shall Pass

Cars pass, clouds drift, the ESPN ticker keeps scrolling. Transient, temporary, fleeting—we expect movement. Cars come and go, clouds roll on, the ticker never stops. So why do we treat our thoughts, feelings, and experiences any differently? Why, when sadness creeps in, frustration rises, or negativity settles, do we assume it’s permanent? Instead of clinging to emotional constancy, we’d do better to remember the ancient wisdom: This too shall pass.

Mindfulness practice teaches us to embrace impermanence. By visualizing our thoughts and feelings as cars on a highway, clouds drifting in the sky, or scores scrolling on the ESPN ticker, we can detach from them and stop letting them control us. Recognizing the transience of emotions and thoughts not only fosters greater presence but also nurtures curiosity and reduces suffering.

In sport and performance, one negative thought or challenging emotion can signal the beginning of the end, the proverbial “here we go” moment—The beginning of the downward spiral. If, instead, performers embraced a more mindful approach and recognized thoughts and feelings as fleeting, they could more quickly regain composure, focus on the present moment, and control the controllable while they let the unhelpful pass by.