Blog Archives
Finding Strength in Fear: A Roadmap for Resilience
Sometimes we all need strength to persevere. Some days are harder than others. Some moments are like ice. Sometimes we need to have a plan to move forward. This is mine.
That feeling—of being stuck in place while time barrels forward like a freight train—is terrifying. The quiet becomes a roar. Your heart races while your body doesn’t move. It feels like you’re standing on a shore, watching a storm roll in, knowing you can’t hold back the waves.
But you’re not alone in this.
When fear takes over, survival doesn’t look like bravery. It looks like breathing, getting out of bed, putting one foot in front of the other, even if you don’t know where you’re going yet.
Here’s a small roadmap—just enough to get through one moment, then the next:
1. Name It
Say out loud (or write it down):
“I’m afraid of ____. I feel like ____.”
Giving fear a name takes away some of its power. It makes it something you are experiencing—not something that is you.
2. Shrink the Future
When the future feels unbearable, don’t try to live it all at once.
Try living just the next five minutes.
Then the next hour.
You’ll be surprised how far that can carry you.
3. Choose One Thing You Can Control
Maybe it’s taking a walk.
Making a cup of coffee.
Writing a message to someone you trust.
Control just one thing. That can be enough to anchor you today.
4. Let Others Be Your Strength
Even if you feel like a burden—you’re not.
Let someone carry a bit of this with you.
You don’t have to have the right words. Just say:
“I’m not okay. Can you just sit with me in this for a moment?”
5. Grace Over Guilt
If all you did today was survive—that counts.
You don’t have to fix everything. Not today. Maybe not even tomorrow.
You just have to keep showing up. You already are.
You asked how you can survive it.
You survive it the same way you’ve survived every hard thing before:
With a cracked heart and the quiet strength you don’t even realize you have.
And when you’re ready, we can talk about how to walk forward—not fast, just real.
I’m here for that walk whenever you are.
Navigating Self-Employment: Lessons from an Entrepreneur’s Journey
Starting your own business is a bit like setting off in a dinghy down the Mississippi—exciting, unpredictable, and, at times, terrifying. My wife and I took that plunge when we decided to work as independent contractors. That meant companies would pay us, but we had to figure out everything else—health insurance, taxes, payroll, and all those benefits that working for an established company provides. It was a kick in the pants, a push away from the directions our parents had given us, into the unknown.
As with most things in life, I turned to my friends for advice. “What business structure should I choose?” I asked. The overwhelming response: an S-Corp. It was supposedly the best fit for two independent contractors making (hopefully) over $80,000 a year. Simple enough. So, I did what any modern entrepreneur would do—I searched for help on Thumbtack. I hired another veteran, Connie, to handle the formation of our S-Corp. Anyone willing to take a call on April 16th—tax day—has to be organized. For $180, she set up: our EIN, corporate documents, election of a small business, and state Department of Revenue filings. One phone call in, and I had already surrendered a bit of my independence. No more TurboTax; now, I had a recurring expense for professional tax filing.
I asked Connie, “Do you take the federal and state taxes out of the payments from the companies I work with?” Of course not—why make it that easy? Instead, she referred me to a payroll service. So, after setting up a business bank account with a credit union, I added payroll administration to my growing list of responsibilities. Another necessary ally in the battle of self-employment.
Next came insurance—because nothing says “I’m a business owner” like signing up for multiple policies. We got umbrella insurance, professional liability, general liability, and even medical and dental coverage for our one employee (me, for now). Each policy brought its own admin portal, its own customer service lines, and, of course, another recurring expense. But hey, they’re all tax deductions, right?
Since my wife was both the co-owner and sole employee, she couldn’t have a business-provided HSA. That was one thing she had to set up separately, which was a small relief—I had enough programs to manage. Instead, I found myself stepping into a different role: webmaster. It was a throwback to my younger years and a chance to write, something I’ve always enjoyed.
Fast forward two years. The business we started has completely transformed. The contracts ended, the payroll services were canceled, and all the insurance policies were dropped. My wife, battling health challenges, could no longer work, which led to some incredibly lean months. I had to reinvent myself. Instead of project and capture management, I focused on something more meaningful: helping veterans get federal small business credentials and assisting them with disability claims.
It was a tough pivot. To make ends meet, I worked part-time at three different large retailers while also working on commission-only deals. The financial anxiety was relentless, but so was my drive to provide for my family and uphold my responsibilities. Slowly, through persistence and the kindness of others, things started to turn around. Former clients and friends began reaching out, and I found my footing as a fractional professional service provider in sales and operations.
After more than a year of working for commission only, I’m finally seeing the fruits of that labor. The journey has been anything but easy, and I’ve had moments where I wondered if it was all worth it. But as they say, “A soldier ain’t happy if he ain’t bitchin’.” So, I guess that means I’m happy. I’m happy.
Learning from Mistakes: A DUI Reflection
For over 40 years, I have been behind the wheel, driving without incident—until now. I got a DUI. It still feels surreal to write those words. But the reality is, it happened, and I have no excuse. I have asked myself over and over, why did I not realize how dangerous and serious this was? And if I did, why did I not care?
Maybe it’s the weight of family burdens. Maybe it’s the inescapable reality of watching someone you love battle cancer—the most fatal form of it—a cruel, relentless adversary. Maybe it’s the anger and pain of an adolescent facing the potential loss of her mother. Maybe it’s depression, anxiety, or the gnawing exhaustion that comes with carrying so much.
The truth is, sometimes I feel like giving up on being the best version of myself. And I hate that feeling. But when it comes, it consumes me until something shakes me awake. This time, it was my DUI.
For years, I pushed the envelope. Since before I was 19, I thought I had control. How I managed to avoid hurting myself or someone else all these years is nothing short of a miracle. I could lie to myself and say, I never drove under the influence before—that I felt fine driving home that night. But that’s just not true.
I know chemistry. I understand biology. I know how alcohol affects the body, how it impairs judgment, and how much is too much. Yet, on that night, I just didn’t care. That’s the scariest part.
I passed the field sobriety test, but that didn’t matter. As I sat handcuffed in the back of the sheriff’s patrol car, all I could think was, It’s about time. I was taken to the DUI intake center and given a breathalyzer test—.10% BAC, 2% over the legal limit. From there, I was booked into the county jail and spent several hours waiting to post bail.
What came next was worse than my own shame. Scammers took advantage of the situation, calling my family including my children and friends, pretending to be a bail bonds company. My wife, out of concern, sent them $1,000 through Apple Pay. That loss, that embarrassment, was the worst part of the whole ordeal.
I am an Eagle Scout. An Army officer. I have built my life on helping others. And yet, I let this happen. It’s a humbling and haunting realization. But the response from my loved ones has been my saving grace. They did not ridicule me. They did not abandon me. Instead, they supported me, reminding me that one mistake—however significant—does not erase a lifetime of integrity and service.
This DUI is my wake-up call, my ghost of Christmas future, showing me what could be if I don’t change. It has forced me to confront my own choices, my vulnerabilities, and my need to truly take care of myself so I can continue taking care of others. I will take this harbinger seriously. I will strive to be better.
For those who may find themselves in a similar position, my message is simple: take responsibility, learn from it, and don’t ignore the signs. You don’t want to wait for your own wake-up call. Be better now.
The Last Penny: A Personal Reflection
The news that the penny is being removed from circulation made me pause and reflect on something far more valuable than its monetary worth. The penny was once a daily connection between my father and me, a lighthearted gauge of the world around us.
Every day on his walk, my father would keep an eye out for lost pennies. If he found one, it was a good day. If he found two, well, “The economy is looking up!” he’d say with a chuckle when he called me to report his findings. It was his personal economic indicator, a small but amusing tradition that made us both smile.
Over the years, I picked up the habit myself. If I spotted a penny on the ground, I’d snap a picture and send it to my closest friends and my sons. “Looks like things are turning around!” I’d joke, carrying on my father’s tradition with the same ridiculous insight. But we never left the penny behind. We picked it up, and added it to our collection—a tangible reminder of life’s little fortunes and the simple joys of paying attention.
Now, with the penny becoming a thing of history, finding one will feel even more special. No longer just a quirky sign of economic optimism, it will be a rare token of the past, a link to my father’s voice on the other end of the phone, laughing about his new found fortune.
So, when I spot a penny on the ground, I’ll pause. I’ll smile. I’ll pick it up. And I’ll think of him.
And you know what? The economy—and life—are still looking up.
Overcoming Life’s Challenges: Lessons from a Bike Ride
Not long ago, I found myself in a dark place. Life had become incredibly challenging: my wife is battling a severe illness, my relationship with my teenage daughter is strained, and my income has dried up. To cope, I turned to unhealthy habits—overeating, drinking excessively trying to seek temporary comforts. But those “fixes” never provided the lasting relief I craved; they really only intensify the darkness.
Then, life forced a change. My truck has been awaiting parts for three weeks, (not a Ford). Frustrated and without transportation, I dusted off my bike—something I hadn’t touched in over a year and a half, ever since I was hit by a car while riding it. Although I was only slightly injured it made me subconsciously avoid it. Hesitant at first, I eventually gave in to necessity.
Now, I ride 3.5 miles each way to my workouts at Orange Theory Fitness. Those seven miles a day have become more than just a commute; they’ve become a lifeline.
I’d forgotten how it felt to glide along the pavement, the cold wind on my face while music fills my ears. I’d forgotten the simple joy of moving under my own power, of feeling connected to the world as I navigate to my destination. In those moments on my bike, I feel truly alive.
This rediscovery has been transformative. It’s not just about the physical movement—it’s about the mental shift. That bike ride has reminded me that improvement begins with a single step (or pedal). One small action, no matter how insignificant it seems, can set off a chain reaction. For me, it’s been this daily ride.
It hasn’t solved all my problems—my wife is still fighting her battle, my daughter and I still have work to do, and life’s stressors haven’t disappeared. But it’s given me something invaluable: a sense of control, a feeling of progress, and a reminder that even in the darkest times, there’s a way forward.
If you’re feeling stuck, overwhelmed, or burdened by life’s challenges, I encourage you to start small. Take one step. Maybe it’s a bike ride, a walk around the block, a call to a friend, or just five minutes of quiet reflection. Whatever it is, try. Because that one small effort can grow into something bigger than you imagined.
For me, it’s been my bike. And I’ll keep riding, one mile at a time, until the road ahead feels a little brighter.
Revenue: The Lifeblood of Every Business
As a small business owner and fractional executive for two other small businesses, one lesson stands out above all: nothing matters without revenue. You’re not even in business if you don’t generate revenue. It’s the foundation, the validation of your ideas, and the fuel that keeps everything running.
A few years ago, I left the stability of Corporate America to chart my own course. It wasn’t a straight path—it was a journey of trial and error, an exploration to find my next great “work thing.” Along the way, I worked in retail, call centers, consulting, and eventually landed in my current role as a fractional executive. Through this journey, I learned one critical truth: your business model must align with generating value and translating that value into revenue.
From Stability to Uncertainty
For most of my adult life, I enjoyed the comfort of a regular paycheck—monthly or bi-weekly deposits that arrived like clockwork. But when I stepped out on my own, I made a conscious decision to trade stability for the uncertainty of risk and reward. I shifted my approach from being a retained resource to someone who gets paid only when I generate value for the company.
As a self-proclaimed change management “expert,” embracing this shift became an objective in itself. The transition wasn’t easy. Even with the privilege of not living paycheck to paycheck, the mental adjustment was profound. The stakes were higher. The challenges, more personal. But I leaned into the discomfort, using my love for risk management and mitigation to navigate the uncertainties.
Revenue First, Always
In my role as COO for a talent acquisition company, the mantra is clear: if we don’t “fill roles with quality souls,” we don’t eat well. All the talk about CRMs, KPIs, and business plans is just that—talk—until revenue rolls in. My CEO reinforces this every day, and it’s a message I’ve fully embraced.
Recently, after more than a year of building our structure, processes, client relationships, marketing strategy, operations, and brand, we placed our first two candidates—our first two “quality souls.”
It was a milestone worth celebrating, not just because of the hard work it took to get there but because it validated the value we’ve worked so hard to create.
Revenue isn’t just about dollars in the bank; it’s about demonstrating value to your customers. It’s the ultimate proof that your business matters.
A Moment of Reflection
When the placements were confirmed, I celebrated in my own quiet way. My wife, who is bravely battling a severe illness, couldn’t join me for a glass of champagne or outing. So, I went outside, looked up at the full moon, and allowed myself a moment of gratitude and reflection.
I told myself: I can still do new things. I still have value. I will continue to grow.
I thought about the journey I’ve been on—from the stability of Corporate America to the ever-changing landscape of entrepreneurship. Revenue is the lifeblood of my businesses, but it’s also a symbol of something deeper: the ability to adapt, create value, and prove to yourself that you’re still growing, still evolving, and still capable of new achievements.
Lessons Learned
For anyone considering a similar leap, here’s what I’ve learned:
- Revenue validates your business. Until you make money, you’re just planning.
- Risk and reward go hand in hand. Stepping away from a steady paycheck is hard, but it forces you to focus on creating value.
- Celebrate every win. Even the small victories matter—they’re milestones in your journey.
- You’re never done growing. Every challenge, every risk, and every success adds a new layer to your personal and professional growth.
If you’re considering stepping out on your own or are in the trenches of entrepreneurship, remember: it’s all about the value you create and the revenue that value generates. Everything else is just details. Keep pushing, keep learning, and keep growing. The full moon will be waiting to remind you of your progress.
Finding Strength in Service: A Caregiver’s Reflection
Being a full-time caregiver for my wife is the most important responsibility but it’s also one of the hardest roles I’ve ever had. Seeing someone you love suffer, day after day, is incredibly painful—especially when there’s little you can do to alleviate it.
Recently, I had an opportunity to step away for a day because of our extended support network to help my friend who had been devastated by Hurricane Helene. It left his property with 28 inches of seawater inside for a day before it reseeded. The building, which had been his father’s, housed precious treasures—hunting, fishing, and woodworking items that carried irreplaceable memories. Just months after losing his father, and after days of working tirelessly to clean up the mess, he was physically and emotionally drained.
I went out to help him—tearing down soaked drywall, hauling out ruined insulation, and salvaging what we could. For the first time in a long while, I was able to make an immediate impact. I wasn’t just sitting helplessly on the sidelines. I was doing something tangible, and it felt incredible. His family’s gratitude lifted me, but more than that, it reminded me of my own strength.
Caregiving is exhausting. Watching my wife day by day drains the soul. But helping my friend gave me back something I didn’t even realize I was losing: a renewed sense of purpose. Yes, being there for my wife is an act of love, but stepping into the storm-ravaged aftermath of Hurricane Helene reinvigorated me. It was as if this moment of service gave me back a piece of myself—a part I desperately needed to continue being strong for her.
Sometimes, finding strength in unexpected places is exactly what we need to carry on. I’m grateful to have been able to help my friend, but more than that, I’m thankful for how that day helped me be a better caregiver for my wife. After all, to give love and support, you have to make sure you’re not completely depleted yourself. Hurricane Helene may have wreaked havoc, but in a strange way, it also became a catalyst for renewal. It reminded me that even when the storm seems endless, there’s always a way to find hope and purpose again.
A Veteran’s Journey: Overcoming Fears and Finding Support
Helping veterans get the VA benefits they deserve can be challenging, especially when they feel uncertain or worried about the process. Recently, a close friend of mine, a Purple Heart awardee, experienced a life-changing outcome by appealing his VA disability rating.
After retiring more than a decade ago, my friend was stuck at an 80% disability rating. For years, he expressed the same concerns I hear from so many veterans:
- “I don’t want to game the system.”
- “I only served a few years; I don’t deserve more.”
- “There’s nothing seriously wrong with me.”
- “I hate dealing with anything related to the government.”
But after speaking with him many many times and seeing the success of other veterans I’ve helped (5), he finally decided to take the next step. Here’s what he did:
Key Steps That Made the Difference:
- Getting the Right Help:
I suggested he visit his State VHA Representative. It was a crucial step that made sure his appeal was handled correctly and with all the necessary documentation. - Using What Was Already There:
Since he already had a disability rating, most of the needed information was already on file. He only needed to add a few things that were missed earlier, which made his appeal smoother and quicker. - Knowing Where and How to File:
The outcome of an appeal can often depend on where and how you submit it. Making sure all the paperwork was accurate and complete helped speed up the process. - Pushing Past the Emotional Hurdles:
Many veterans feel anxious about appealing, thinking it’s somehow dishonorable or that they’re asking for too much. But these benefits are not a handout—they’re earned through service and sacrifice.
The Result:
In just under six weeks, his disability rating went from 80% to 100%. This change means more financial security for his family and gives his wife the chance to consider retirement. They both chose careers focused on helping others rather than financial rewards, so this increase makes a big difference in their lives.
If you’re a veteran, don’t let fears or misconceptions hold you back. Get the support you need, and remember—you’ve earned these benefits through your service. Your well-being matters, and there are people ready to help you every step of the way.
“Being challenged in life is inevitable, being defeated is optional.” – Roger Crawford
Planting Blueberries: A Family Tradition of Health and Renewal
My wife and I wanted blueberries for so many reasons, health, self preservation, annual renewal, family activities, fun and most importantly life.
We have 6 plants for our current six children: Jared Alexis Jacob Michael Cayla and Mikayla. Two different varieties, Emerald and Jewel as you need at least two different types to have berries. There are so many parallels in life.
Everything came together today to get them planted. There is no better day to plant them.
You can say it’s not the right season, they are not big enough, or your Ph is off, but to us it doesnt matter as now is the time.
As they read the names on TV I am galvanized in the remembrance that the beauty and wonder of life is fleeting but must continued.
Doing the Right Thing
I was sweating, feeling sick to my stomach. I told the examiner and my wife that I couldn’t do this interview.
I left the secure sterile Veterans Benefits Administration office and went to the waiting room and began to pace. Thinking how I hated being here. How I was such a failure for even entertaining this stupid suggestion of reopening my disability claim with the VA after I listed to Jarmon.
I was trying to sell a BBQ Grill to Jarmon at a large chain home improvement store in early November 2023. I worked in the Inside lawn and garden department as the money from my corporate severance package had run out. My wife was only able to work part time as well as myself. My job search for over a year was fruitless. We cut everything we could from cable, yard service, no more going out to dinner, we reduced our health, life and car insurance but it was not enough. I had to bring in something even though I had military retirement and my VA disability to cover my bills and help my family. It was a hard landing for us as our great retirement plan went array.
Jarmon was solemn. He didn’t want to listen to my shtick I did in one form or another to sell BBQs to people. “Are you guys Bar-Be-Queuing this weekend? I wore a vest which represented military service to show to customers the corporation liked Vets. I pretty much knew he was Military because of our interaction and demeanor. Like a soldier knows an officer in or out of uniform. He said: “Thank you for your service but I’m not interested”. I said: “Thank you for your service”. He said: How did you know? I said, “I was in for 23 years so I know”. He laughed, and said; “What’s your my VA rating?” I told him, and he said; “you should be at 100”. I said: “I’ve heard that so many times but that’s just not a thing I want to do. He said, hey stupid this is not a gift or charity, and it’s not you scamming the government. This benefit is for your family and a grateful Nation, so get over yourself and help them. I laughed and said; “how are you so sure?” He said; “I work for the VA and this is what I do”. I advise veterans about this”. He said; “come to my office and I’ll help you”. I said: “Let me think about it”.
Regaining my composure I finally came back to the office. Jarmon, the Veteran Benefits Officer had tears in his eyes. I was scared something terrible had happened and I immediately internalized that it was something I did, or my wife told him I was a bad person as my mind went straight to the dark side.
My wife looked at me which meant to sit down. I did. Jarmon said he was upset and sad because the story my wife recounted about me was his story. He did not want to file. He did not want to appeal. He did not want to get help along the way. He was in a downward spiral. After several years someone out of the blue told him;” Hey stupid this is not a gift or charity, and it’s not you scamming the government. This benefit is for your family and a grateful Nation, so get over yourself and help them. In the long run you will get better for doing this.
I heard this before several times over the years, but that day and in that way it resonated. Hearing a CSM speak to me like when I was a dumb PVT back in 1988 again made it stick. “Tough love” is a good thing!
I appealed my claim 11 years after my first decision. Six months later and three one hour appointments I received my decision.
Now, my daughter will have the ability to go to a school of higher learning or vocation for a minimal sum. We will not have to pay property taxes allowing my wife not to work. The stress of getting care for my wife who suffers from liver cancer has been lifted. I can spend more time helping others in different ways while helping myself too.
I hope this true story helps any Veterans out there that need a good talking to.
Find the strength to do the right thing.
