Time to narc on myself.

Earlier this month, Reader, I violated every principle I claim to stand for. And a friend called me out—hard.

I was caught in one of those doom-scrolling rage cycles. You know the ones—the algorithm doing its thing, feeding you precisely calibrated outrage, each swipe releasing another tiny drip of dopamine that momentarily eases the deeper frustration about what’s happening in the world.

In that state, I reposted something political on Instagram. It was biting, incendiary, provocative. And in the moment, it felt good. Really good.

Except it wasn’t my words. It was someone else’s diatribe that I slapped onto my feed because it gave me the emotional hit I was craving.

A friend—someone I deeply respect—messaged me. They called it despicable and hateful. They were so disgusted they considered something drastic.

And they were right.

I was mortified. Not because I got caught, but because I’d let my emotions hijack my integrity. I’d gotten the dopamine hit from that repost, but I’d caused someone I care about real distress.

Issue 7 of Shift happens. We're now almost old enough for pull-up pants. (Did someone forward this to you and you're keen for more? Subscribe​ here​.)

Emotional Hits Come With Emotional Hangovers

Reactive emotional hits have consequences we don’t see in the moment.

It’s like taking a drink that leads to the next thing and the next thing.

I reached out immediately:

“Your friendship is important to me. I respect you. You’re absolutely right. I let my emotions get the better of me. I’ve taken it down. I hope you understand I wouldn’t want to harm you or our relationship.”

Fortunately, that healed the moment.

But here’s the thing—an amends isn’t just saying sorry. An amends is amending what’s been broken. It’s a promise to change how we operate going forward.

We can say sorry over and over while continuing the same behavior. That’s just apologizing. An amends says: Here's how I'll do better.

When We Lose Sight of Our Watchwords

I’d completely lost sight of my guiding principles. A dear colleague calls them watchwords—the core principles that ground us, bring us back to who we are, and energize our forward traction.

Mine are: Hospitality. Generosity. Curiosity. Integrity.

Not hospitality in the restaurant service sense. Hospitality in a classical Greco-Roman sense—where strangers come together, their relationship transforms, and something bigger and better emerges.

Not generosity as in giving away money. Generosity as showing up for others with attention and presence.

Reposting someone else’s angry commentary to make myself feel good violated that hospitality. It violated my integrity. If I’m going to say something provocative, it needs to be my words. I can’t randomly repost someone else’s rage because it feels good in the moment.

The Work of Self-Leadership

I work with accomplished professionals who often can’t quite articulate their guiding values and principles.

So we go through the process of figuring out what they are—making them clear, and making them operational.

Because without them, we end up in a constantly reactive emotional state with no way of coming back to center.

For me, those watchwords are how I ground myself. They’re what bring me back to my core. They’re how I lead myself so I can show up for others in ways that are meaningful and empowering.

Marc Lesser–an executive coach I follow–says something I think about constantly:

“If we’re not cultivating trust, we’re cultivating cynicism.”

Our work with each other is to continually create trust and work through that cynicism.
The only way we do that is by understanding where we’re coming from and having the awareness to see how we’re operating.

When I reposted that thing, I was operating entirely on an emotional need to express rage somehow—anonymously, without integrity or generosity.

First See the Story, Then Drop It

Lesser also talks about dropping the story. But sometimes we have to first see the story.

The story I wasn’t seeing: I was feeling anger, frustration, and fear. I was too busy being caught up in the story to actually see my story.

Learning how to recognize what’s going on with us internally, below the surface—that’s how we change the script within ourselves. How we change our narrative. How we shift our instincts. How we transform our relationships and how we show up in the world.

I’m not a woo-woo coach. Anyone who knows me knows I'm allergic to wispy guru-speak. The kind that wispily says "meet your pain with curiosity."

The lens I look through is rooted in my background as a historian, a producer, and a cycling coach obsessed with the mechanics of performance. I'm always seeking the levers we can I move to create a different, more desired outcome.

In that context, I often arrive at the same conclusion as my more woo-woo counterparts: curiosity is the thing that will always lead to a better solution.

I didn’t meet that moment with curiosity. I just acted out of my own pain.

Lesser suggests two practices for mindful leadership: connect to our pain, and connect to the pain of others.

I wasn’t connected to the source of my pain—I was connected to the fear and anger, letting it rule me without understanding where it came from. And I failed to connect to the pain of others until my friend expressed their disgust and frustration.

What My Friend Reminded Me

After mending our fence, my friend sent me this:

I share that not to brag, but because it reminded me what this work is actually about.

Anger can be a useful emotional tool... when it's shifted into constructive action. If Shift Happens is about self-leadership, then my role is asking:

• How do we transform friction into compassion?
• How do we transform frustration into love?
• How do we transform broken relationships into ones that are creative, collaborative, exciting, and honest?

What Ails Humanity Won’t Be Solved by Algorithms or Personal Brands

Here’s what’s clear to me: what ails humanity isn’t going to be solved by SaaS programs, social media, personal brands, or algorithms.

It’s going to be solved by us showing up for one another. One to one. In person. In very human ways. Connecting with each other in ways filled with purpose, character, intention, awareness, and generative curiosity.

We have to just be more human—connecting in the way we were designed to as social beings.
Knowing who we are, where we stand, where we come from, and being grounded in that—that’s what enables us to have the hard conversations and do the hard work of carrying on relationships.

So, Where Does This Leave Us?

Here are the questions I’m sitting with:

If you’re feeling unmoored right now—caught in reactive cycles that don’t align with who you want to be—let’s talk.
I’ve got a few Strategic Reset conversations opening up in November. No pitch, no pressure—just 30 minutes to explore what’s pulling you off center and how you might find your way back.

Worth exploring if you’re tired of the emotional hangovers.

Remember to exhale.

Your partner in climb,

Bryan

PS – Murray🐈’s watchwords appear to be: food, attention, naps, and absolute disregard for human scheduling preferences. He violates none of these principles and experiences zero emotional hangovers as a result.