Why am I obsessed with The Avengers?

I remember it so clearly. I was walking through Central Park on a beautiful day with a new friend going down rabbit hole after rabbit hole of fascinating conversation. Effortless conversation in flow.

He asked me about my vision and when I shared it, I could immediately tell something was different.

This wasn’t the first time I shared my vision. I’ve shared very similar words in a very similar fashion dozens of times over the previous few years and expected a similar reaction. “Oh, cool!” is what I became accustomed to hearing. Not this time though. What I said lit up something powerful in him. I could see the gears cranking in overdrive for him and once he shared his vision, it was so obvious why. We have been imagining the same future for years now in our own little worlds. A future that we were excited to build but even more excited to be a part of.

Here is what I shared…

I want to bring together the real life Avengers to cocreate and build a more beautiful world. I want to assemble this unique collection of talent to develop solutions that were not previous possible, to leverage technology and systems thinking to make massive impact in serving humanity, to build a home where these unique individual superheroes feel inspired and properly compensated to contribute their genius and can come together to be a part of something bigger than themselves.

It fires me up even writing it here. And also, it feels very pie in the sky. I’ve had to come to terms with that. It’s ok. It’s the work of a lifetime, and it’s also really fucking hard. This is why years after having this conversation in Central Park and many times since, I still feel like we are in the first inning of bringing together The Avengers.

I also get sad thinking about what happens if this vision doesn’t come together. I think about all the truly amazing people out there with their super powers rotting away in a cubicle, day trading crypto or partying their life away feeling bored, stuck, lonely, depressed, apathy and hopeless. I think about what would happen if Dr. Strange didn’t have his training that prepared him to become Sorcerer Supreme, if Thor didn’t have his friends to snap him out of his beer drinking, video game mode and if Hulk didn’t work through his own stuff after getting his ego crushed by Thanos. This stuff is happening to us all every single day. I know because I’ve been there. I didn’t get crippled in a car accident like Strange or have my failure cost the lives of trillions like Thor or get whooped by Thanos like the Hulk, but I’ve been on my own journey. We all have. And it’s so clear that we need each other now more than ever.

This is why I think about the real life Avengers every single day. I know they are out there. I’ve been fortunate to have met some over the years and even more grateful to be collaborating with a few. And it’s clear that they need us just as much as we need them.

The old system isn’t working. Our global economy and infrastructure is frail. The climate is collapsing, rapidly. The wealth gap is widening. We’re more politically divided than ever. Mental health issues are on the rise. Our kids want to grow up to be influencers. And our technology is trying to distract us (at best).

So much more is possible. I want more. I’ve seen glimpses of it. We have all the puzzle pieces we need to get started right here in front of us.

When we come together to give our super powers to something bigger than ourselves and cocreate in ways we never have been able to before, we can build a more beautiful world. Not just for ourselves, but for all beings and all generations to come. We have to consciously make the choice over and over and over again. “Will you step the fuck up today?” It’s not easy. I’ve done my best to avoid doing so personally. And I’m so appreciative of all my friends, teachers and mentors who have always nudged me back on my path.

This is the journey of my life time. I’m beyond excited to publish this and plant my flag in the ground. It’s an important public first step in claiming my vision to bring together The Avengers to build to dopest shit the world can’t even imagine yet. And I’ll be asked again tomorrow to step up. And every day. And I won’t be perfect. I don’t have to be.

Every day I wake up and choose to step up is another day closer towards bringing The Avengers into this world.

What if who I hoped to be was always me?

It’s been a minute since I’ve published anything. 23 months to be precise. It feels like nothing has changed and everything has changed all at once.

My last post was titled “What happens in the middle of transformation?” Appropriate fucking title John. Collectively and individually we’re in the middle of the transition from the old story to the new. Two years later and I can finally start to answer this question for me individually. In the middle of transformation is a lot of beauty, magic, synchronicity, tragedy, shit sandwiches, heart break, and grief mixed in with some of the most challenging years of my life.

I’m really proud of how I showed up at certain times. I am also ashamed of others. I needed to get my ass kicked by the universe, to get humbled and to find whole new levels of surrender that I didn't even know existed. I’ve had a powerful vision inside of me for years and I’ve been too afraid to take a stand for it. I don’t even like typing that let alone the thought of publishing it, yet here we are.

This past weekend, I was in the middle of a solo meditation retreat to work on a few things, and I heard a song that I’ve heard many times before. But this time it hit different. This is the opening line:

“What if who I hoped to be was always me?”

I’ve been in the middle of this transformation for years, but what if I’m already who I’m trying to transform into? What if I am already the butterfly? What if who I hoped to one day be is already me right now in this exact moment? Yeah John, what if?

I still have a long way to go on this journey, a lot more to learn and even more to embody. A lot of questions and only a few more answers than I’ve previously had access to.

And.

I’m already exactly where I need to be. Exactly who I need to be. Doing exactly what I need to be doing. And that is enough.

What happens in the middle of transformation?

“There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly.”

One of my all-time favorite quote, a true gem from Buckminster Fuller and certainly one of the best ways I've heard to describe the process of transformation.

I've been immersed in the world of transformation for years: studying, witnessing, supporting, challenging and undergoing several of my own. All that is to say, I know a good transformation when I see one.

We are collectively in a very particular part of a transformation process known for its incredibly technical term: "the middle."

The beginning of a transformation starts with awareness.

The awareness tells us that old story is no longer acceptable.

The end of course is beautiful butterfly.

But. The new story is not yet here. No butteryfly.

From that place of awareness and rejection of the old, we enter "the middle" which is where we are today. We're not a caterpillar anymore. And we're not a butterfly yet. We're in the cocoon phase. It may look and feel like nothing is going on, but massive changes are happening.

This transformation is happening at the societal level. We are collectively rejecting the old stories. We have ideas and visions for what the new stories could look like. We want to be there. And yet we're not.

Interestingly and not surprisingly, I find myself in the middle (to end, hopefully?) of a personal transformation, and the company I just started working with also happens to be in the middle. Old story no longer serves. New story not yet here.

In a world of an ever increasing desire for instant gratification, it's critical to understand that there are no shortcuts in transformation. Trust me. I've tried. And failed. Many times.

We are in the middle. Trust that massive changes are happening. Be patient and loving with ourselves and those who haven't spent as much time in the cocoon. Continue to put in the work so that we can emerge anew as a beautiful butterfly.

How has my unconscious privilege and going to jail altered my life trajectory?

I'm going to share a story from my past that very few people have ever heard.

It's the most dark moment of my life. And it's clear to me that if I wasn't white, I could be dead or my life could have been ruined.

But because I'm white, particularly a white male born in the United States, almost no one has ever heard what I'm about to share and it's had virtual no external impact on my life whatsoever.

It starts as many of the stories from this time of my life begin... I had consumed a tremendous amount of alcohol.

Many of the actual details are lost to me or hazy at best, so I'll only share the facts that I know with certainty and pieces that were later discovered.

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In February 2005, I was arrested in New Orleans during Mardi Gras.

I've never considered the impact of my privilege regarding the events in New Orleans up until these past few days. I've long known that I benefit from my privilege each and every single day, but it's mostly felt intangible and unconcious. I know it's there, but I can't actually comprehend what life would be like if I weren't a straight, white male living in the US so I just go about my day.

There's something about these past few days though that felt like too much. "Really? In the middle of a global pandemic with so much pain and suffering, we're still going to be racist murders. We're still going to tell people they don't belong or call the cops knowing what that means. Really?" And I guess that's part of my privilege that I thought that somehow there's an off switch. Like it isn't happening right now because there's other things happening in the world.

Here's a story of my privilege and how the entire trajectory of my life could be so drastically different if it weren't for the color of my skin.

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When I said I was arrested during Mardi Gras, it's easy to pass that off as being a drunk college kid charged for drinking in public when everyone is drinking in public. That's the story that I used, and it worked. But that's not what actually happened.

I was arrested for public intoxication, resisting arrest and assaulting an officer(s).

I was so drunk that it's unclear what actually went down, but here's what I pieced together.

I drank myself into a blackout state. Not uncommon for me at that time. I was wandering Bourbon Street at night by myself. It was incredibly crowded in the streets, obviously. Cars were trying to get through, but weren't really moving.

I ended up on the hood of a car (don't know if I was pushed, fell, or jumped on there myself).

Next thing I recall, I was fully restrained, face down and pepper sprayed.

I was put into the back seat of a normal civilian car, which just so happened to belong to the hood that I had landed on. The owner of this vehicle was an off duty cop who was out with another off duty cop enjoying themselves during the festivities like the rest of us. They were on their way home for the night when I happen to land on their car.

At this point, I realized I there was significant blood flowing from my head and nose and I couldn't do anything to stop it because my hands were handcuffed behind me. My level of intoxication transformed into, FUCK, this isn't good and I need to figure out a way to get myself out of this.

During my long ride in the back of their car on my way to the hospital, I was able to piece together more of what happened. As it turns out, the one off duty officer was actually really nice, and we talked at length about how we were both terrible surfers and our brothers were much better than us. I was certain at this point that I could talk my way out of this. That turned out not to be the case.

Here's what I came to understand about what happened.

When I landed on their hood, these two men got out of the car and attempted to restrain me. I was not interested in any part of that. They said they identified themselves as officers and were wearing their badges around their necks, but they were also in plain clothes, in a civilian car and had mountains of beads around their necks. It was also so loud that I either didn't hear them say they were officers or didn't care. I fought back. They kicked my ass. My head appear to be dragged along pavement, glasses broken, nose bleeding, and a lot of pepper spray into the mouth, eyes and nose.

There's a tremendous story in itself about the next 20 hours that I spent in the Orleans Parish Prison, which is ranked as one of the 10 worst prisons in the country. I'll save that for another time as it's not relevant right now, but share that I watched the Fat Tuesday parades on the community TV with the other prisoners who were in there for a long time.

When I appeared before the judge to face my sentencing, I was able to get the resisting arrest and assaulting an officer charges dropped.

After college when I had to have a background check to get my Series 7 license to work at an international bank, I brushed off the incident as being arrested during Mardi Gras for public intoxication. Everyone drinks in public, I said. They agreed.

To be perfectly clear, I hold no resentment towards those officers who whooped on me. I was too intoxicated to have any idea what actually happened. The amount of force that was used could have absolutely been warrented. In my situation. But so many others weren't so lucky to walk away with only their pride being hurt or some head injuries that heal in a few weeks.

---

As I sit here today, thinking about how people who were born with the same color skin as me get away with murder and ruin the lives of people who don't have the same color skin as me, recalling this story helps me begin to understand a tiny fraction of the privilege I have directly benefited from.

Could I have been killed as a result of landing on that hood? Certainly black people have been murdered for less. Would that judge have dropped those other charges if I weren't white? Who knows. Would my employer have agreed to write off that arrest? Maybe.

But maybe not.

The fact that I'm able to sit here and tell this story about my privilege from my living room couch, healthy and with food on my table during a global pandemic, feels like a blessing that I did little to deserve. I was born to two white parents in the United States during the greatest time to be alive. My hood incident had virtually no negative impact on where I am today, and yet there are countless examples of people's lives being completely devastated for so much less. There is so much of my privilege that I'm oblivious to and am doing my best to become more self-aware each and every day.

I will continue to use my voice and my actions to help those who weren't born into such privilege. And even though I feel like whatever I do will never be enough in this regard, I will continue be a friend, an ally, a brother, a business partner and a supporter wherever I can to stand shoulder to shoulder as we fix a broken system together.

What do I do with this overwhelm?

I've been feeling the sadness, pain, frustration, loss and helplessness. Today especially.

At the macro level for the planet and humanity.

At the micro level for all those most directly affected.

We have to do better.

For our brothers and sisters. Mothers and fathers. Sons and daughters. For all the future generations.

We are failing at so many levels right now.

When I really allow myself to feel these feeling, it is quite overwhelming.

I do my best to turn that overwhelm into fuel.

Find the gift. Focus on what I can control. Support what I want more of in the world. And get back to work creating, improving, inspiring and building.