The Boogeyman Under the Bed

My story begins with a smack. Not snack! Smack!

There was a loud smack quickly followed by a yelp, which was really more of a scream. It’s all blurry. My dad would smack my mom, she would yelp-scream and my sister was crying. That’s all I remember, it’s my first memory. I was under a bed, hiding, I was three.

It is a matter of profound importance that everyone in a nation know that with whatever facts they start their life, there is a clear and open route to rise…there is power to be had in the full unleashing of human capital.

- Peggy Noonan, WSJ, 11-7-08

Peggy Noonan was writing about the remarkable ascendancy of President Obama. She was praising our great nation but another truth was being shared as well: The ability to communicate effectively is the greatest talent a person can possess. President Obama has that talent at an extraordinary level. I have the lite version but that’s good enough.

My ability to communicate effectively is, in my mind, the reason I was able to crawl out from under that bed, escape my Boogeyman, enjoy financial success, and ultimately live the life me and my wife have, pretty much, always desired.

If you can communicate well, you will succeed in life. If you can’t communicate well, you will not succeed in life. It’s that simple.

Sales pitches, job interviews, doctoring, emails, policing, blogging, creating websites, marriage, parenting—they all hinge on our ability to communicate, both verbally and nonverbally.

Eye contact, hand gestures, pitch, pauses, fidgeting, inflection, passion, and body movement are all important. We know that instinctively. Children can tell when someone is lying. You can too. Our crap-detectors are embedded deep within our DNA.

Juggling all of those verbal and non-verbal “communication balls” while people are watching is hard work. That’s why we get nervous before delivering an important message. That’s why those of us who can communicate well are often successful.

And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight in the bud became more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

-       Anais Nin

Few of my childhood memories are pleasant. We lived on the perforated edge of poverty. Alcohol fueled intense volatility and frustrations piled up without relief, so the smallest annoyance sparked the next firestorm. Peace was a luxury we couldn’t afford. From that cocktail of events and emotions I was able to squeeze some nourishment. Nourishment I’ll call hope.

Dream big. I think dreaming is what saved me from my environment and myself. Somehow I knew there was a better future for me, out there. My circumstances may have stolen some of my inner-self but they also gave me a determination that has served me well. Success requires confidence, which you can fake to a certain extent, and a strong work ethic, which you can’t.

As I taught my children, everyone pays list price for success. Don’t look for short cuts. I never expected my dreams to come true without a lot of effort. I knew there would be mountains to climb, mountains that others can never understand even if they wanted to, which they didn’t. So be it. Change what you can. Try not to complain. Celebrate as often as possible. Go to work.

I am a communicator, a peacemaker and, when all else fails, a comedian. What else could I be? I was a child trying to hold the family together. Do well. Be funny. Keep everyone focused on the positive. Avoid the hell. The past will always be part of me, but I vowed that I wouldn’t let it rule my life. The future belongs to those who define it for themselves.

Ideas won’t keep. Something must be done about them.

- Alfred North Whitehead

High school was turbulent. I had problems with authority but at the same time wanted to do well. Go figure? From my perspective everyone I had met who was in charge was underperforming (I cleaned it up). I learned to trust myself and, regretfully, no one else. Some dust-ups but, as Rocky Balboa said in the movie, Rocky, “Nothing to brag about.”

I left home before I was 18-years old. Somewhere in my early twenties after a few of my friends had been sent to prison and a few others had died, I decided to grow up. Time to stop worrying about the past and mean it this time. Time to get on with my life.

My eyes were on the prize. I became a Labrador Retriever chasing a tennis ball, I had a goal and was focused. I met my wonderful wife and our two sons. Hope was taking root. “I can do this! Have faith (Faith),” my heart implored me. About ten years later I had my MBA and my corporate career was underway. I did well; it’s always better late than never. The appearance of middleclassdom, of normalcy, was getting easier.

Twenty-five years combined in sales and then marketing. We were transferred around the country; the wine-country, Chicago, Philly, Charleston, and Charlotte, our new home. My last three jobs have been as a Vice President of Marketing, most recently with two of the largest industrial distributors in the country. I beat cancer. I wrote and published a book, Communication Wins. Who woulda’ thunk it?

I run my own small firm now, Aligned Marketing. It’s working. Not having a boss is a great way to quell my trust issues, which at some level still haunt me. Until recently so did the fear of poverty, a terrible, sometimes debilitating, feeling. My fear of poverty was a big dragon to slay. They say dragons are mythical creatures but, I can assure you, they are real.

Our financial manager says we’re about set; our money should last until we’re 100-years old. How cool is that! We made it. So can you.

I can write, speak, help when I can, state in clear terms when I can’t and, most importantly, be there for my family. I like being me. I am so glad, so grateful, so blessed, that I was able to crawl out from under that bed and escape the Boogeyman.

Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.

-       Cyril Connolly

Note to Chris Brogan: I laid it all out there. I hope you enjoy My Story.

Steve

800-707-9150

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