“I’m stuck in a pool but 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 my actions during active addiction, I’d served a brief 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 sought a way to rebuild my life and 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 worked for nearly three years by the time I joined the leadership cohort. I enjoyed my work nationally and was eternally grateful for this second chance at a career. Yet, I continued to feel dissatisfied, coupled with a pang of inner guilt that I was not thankful 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 developing 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’m stuck in a pool but 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 and 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 in me. To embrace my full potential and make a lasting impact, I must show up as an opportunity for others.
Diving In
In early 2020, 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 leadership training. He was 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 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 ask everyone to participate in our conversation. Are you open to exploring this together for a minute?” He seemed confused by my invitation but said he would be.
“Why are you hesitant to participate with this group?” I asked.
“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 asked his permission to ask him a follow-up question. “So when you’re worried about saying something stupid, who are you focused on?”
He considered briefly but quickly landed on the answer – “I’m too focused on myself.” I asked him if he was open to reframing his self-image, and he said he was. “What,” I asked him, “If you just saw everything you would 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 could impact everyone around him powerfully.
I asked him if he would consider this throughout our time together that day, and he said he would. So when I saw his hand shoot up about two hours into the day, I was thrilled and allowed him to contribute to the space. By the end of the day, he came up to me proudly 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 example and countless other moments are the centers of my life today. A life centered around investing in that leader in everyone else, empowering them to embrace their power. By embracing their power, people can empower others.
Walking
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 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 grow louder. I keep pushing forward towards wet sand, walking 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 – every one of us embracing our power to swim freely in the ocean of life – the ocean of opportunity.
About the Author
Michael King is the Director & Creator of The Communities Project. Email him at michael@communitiesproject.org, or follow him on Twitter @michaelking1981.
