We live in a society that is headed in a frightening direction. It is rapidly becoming a culture that shields our fragile egos from failure. The result is a society of people who applaud potential instead of results, and a mentality of âgood enoughâ rather than âbetter than ever.â
Our hypersensitive society has created a mentality that canât handle failure. Whether youâre first or last, we preach âGood try!â instead of âWork harder.â We do it with everything, and we do it in the worst ways possible, such as with our health. We coddle ourselves, and itâs the reason why so many people think itâs okay to be overweight and out of shape. Or why so many have rationalized their inability to exercise and eat in a healthy way. You fail once and then tell yourself that something better isnât a possibility.
The reality? Youâve been taught to quit at failure. You donât smell success, because thereâs no incentive to push forward. Thereâs no hurt, pain, or disappointment when you fall short. For you to evolve, that must all change.
The problem is apparent everywhere. Look no further than todayâs youth. Children play sports games where goals arenât counted and everyone gets a trophy at the end. Iâm all for providing a nurturing environment for children to grow up in. Heck, almost all of the charity organizations I work with are designed to provide better lives for kids. But people need to be pushedâboth externally and internally. That internal fire can never burn without some fuel, and that fuel can come in the form of disappointment, embarrassment, and even jealously. The poison, no doubt, is in the dose, as these traits are incredibly corrosive if held on to for extended periods of time, but if you can learn to convert them into positive actions, they can help you tremendously.
I benefitted from failure. I needed to feel it. I needed to sit in it. I needed to know what losing felt like, and I needed to get angry about it and never want to feel that way again. Without it, I would have been robbed of the lifeblood that has propelled me all these years later. It would have eliminated my opportunity to stand taller.
I hate failing, and, even worse, I hate admitting it. But at night, I can look at myself in the mirror and know that every time I did fail, it was the best thing for me. I got back up, devised a better plan of action, and went back with fire in my stomach for those who doubted me when I told them what I wanted to achieve, changes I desired to make, and who I wanted to become.
I issue that same challenge to you. I want you to look at your failures, embrace them, and immerse yourself in them. Then I want you to use that pain as fuel and set up this one seemingly simple goal: What can you change in a year?
Iâm going to need you to accept nothing less than your best effort. You owe it to yourself to know, once and for all, how far you can go. I want you to look in that mirror and love what you see, inside and out. I want you to feel like youâve earned your sleep at night.
All I ask is that you believe that what Iâm telling you has worked for me and to do the footwork.
THE LONG, HARD ROAD OUT OF HELL
What do you see when you look at yourself?
Itâs an honest question that I asked myself years ago. What you see now when you look at me did not occur by accident, and it wasnât easy. My âinstantâ success was a twenty-year journey, and I want the path I took to inspire in you the confidence to rise up after youâre kicked in the face. Because as youâre about to learn, the most impressive people in the world are the ones who suffered from failure and learned how to respond.
After I played Flash Thompson in the movie Spider-Man in 2002, I ended up not acting for four years. How does this happen? The ins and outs of my fall from acting boil down to a vicious cycle caused by my drinking too much, smoking too much, and acting like I had won the lifetime lottery, because Iâd had a role in a big movie. It began a downward spiral that resulted in my getting dumped off of my own personal elevator to hell, at the bottom floor.
One of my professors at the Carnegie Mellon University School of Drama, Victoria Santa Cruz, used to say, âThe moment you say âI did it!â is the moment the devil walks in the door,â and thatâs exactly what happened to me.
I spent several years in a blur and for the most part was unhireable. I had immense trouble finding the will to motivate myself to do simple things such as leave the house, let alone train the way I wanted. I began to accept that most likely acting wasnât going to happen for me; that I had gotten into the wrong profession out of ego, had burned too many bridges and made a mistake. My mind spun all day, consumed by the question âWhat if?â What if I could somehow get out of my own way long enough to make a change? And unbelievably, through a series of bizarre eventsâand, looking back, perhaps divine interventionâI found it within myself to begin the process of cleaning up my life.
Through a friend of a friend, I was introduced to this professional hockey player: an NHL enforcer who had been suspended by the league multiple times. We became instant buddies. He mentioned that he needed a sparring partner to help him get back in shape and make his push to return to the league. We bonded over our similar struggles, and little did I know it, his comeback would mirror my own, in ways that I could have never imagined.
I had never really boxed before in any structured way, but I had absolutely nothing else going on for me, so I said yes.
We started boxing training three times a week. It was a habit that helped me put an end to my other vice: chain-smoking. Weâd get in the gym at six oâclock in the evening. Iâd make sure I wouldnât smoke beforehand, and then afterward, Iâd eat, shower, and go straight to bedâbefore the urge to smoke could overtake me. That good habit led to other good habits, and just like that, my entire mind-set began changing.
I was no longer seeing what I could get away with; I was seeing what I could do.
FINDING REDEMPTION
Eventually my friend went back to hockey, and I was left with an empty bank account, not having worked as an actor in four years. I now faced the overwhelming question of what to do with the rest of my life. I had always loved the book The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, which is loosely based on the life and personality of the famous architect Frank Lloyd Wright. At one point in the story, the protagonistâs personal life and career as an architect completely implode. He is forced to close his office, and he decides to take a job breaking rocks all day at a quarry. I was always confused by and in total awe of that gesture. The fact that this highly trained, brilliant architect would lower himself and take an entry-level manual-labor job had perplexed me for years. Why would he do that? I decided to find out for myself.
I took a job at a masonry company working long days, shoveling sand and gravel from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon. In my mind, my acting career was over. No one would return my phone calls, and Iâd been rejected by every agent and manager in town. There was something about driving the truck in the morning, picking up my orders, and shutting off my brain and shoveling for hours.
During that first week, I thought I was going to die. I couldnât see how I was going to make it through. My back hurt, my legs and shoulders hurt, and I started waking up with a throbbing headache every morning. I took Advil and drank plenty of fluids, but nothing would get rid of that headacheâthat is, until I started breaking a sweat by shoveling in the 90-degree Los Angeles heat each morning. I was like a junkie or an alcoholic with the DTs, shaking violently until I got my morning fix. It was as if my body and soul were screaming at me, âYou need this!â I showed up day after day for work on that truck and within weeks my body started changing drastically. It was as though for my entire life, there had been a genetic barrier inside me that was stopping me from filling out physically and packing on muscle, but my daily construction workouts removed it completely.
At this point, I was almost three years off of drinking and two years removed from smoking. I started getting serious about my diet and made it my business to go to the gym after those long days working construction. I was twenty-eight years old, and I wanted to see how much I could fill out. I wanted to know what it would be like to be big.
I took that job in construction because I needed to pay my bills, but the act of humbling myself and accepting who I was and where I was changed my life. For the first time in a long time, I started to grow. Working that difficult job epitomized the anti-ego mentality that I needed to begin really succeeding. Slowly but surely, I began to understand why the hero in The Fountainhead took the job at the quarry. The monotonous, repetitive physical labor was a cleanse of sorts for my head and my soul. I was alone in my bubble every day finding out exactly what I was made of. I was taking inventory and digesting everything I had been through. I still thought my dream of an acting career was over, but in the meantime, I was going to become the greatest shoveler, cement mixer, and jackhammer operator of all time.
Looking back, that humbling experience is what turned me into the man I am today, in just about every way.
With the addition of those postconstruction gym sessions, I began pushing my life back into alignment. I didnât just train after work; I hit the gym like an animal. I pushed myself to the point where the people around me were borderline frightened. I was a man on a mission.
WHY POTENTIAL SUCKS
How hard have you pushed yourself?
Thatâs the question I want you to ask. Got your answer? Good, âcause now itâs time for a little love.
Tough love.
Most guys donât realize that the hard work they put in isnât enough. They look around and wonder why everyone else has success. They want to know why they canât catch a break. You know why it doesnât happen for them? Itâs because those who reap the benefits of life donât wait for breaks to happen; they make them happen. Itâs an aggressive approach to life and an endless pursuit that will lead to what you want. The best donât see a locked door and walk away in another direction. They wind up and kick the damn thing down! Or better yet, they smash through the brick wall next to the door, because they can.
During my fall, I had become okay with being comfortable. Comfortable with being average and less than I wanted. Comfortable with not rising up or pushing back when I was knocked down and not being a little tougher. As a result, I settled for less.
Those who truly evolve are the ones who leap off of lifeâs cliffs. Their world is not one of haves and have-nots, and itâs not one of potential. Itâs one of hustle, ambition, and endless determination.
My wish for you is to have that magic moment like I did in which you fully take responsibility and eliminate your excuses.
Iâm not passing judgment here. Iâm merely letting you know what it took for me to make the most out of all my opportunities and what it will take for you to get more than you think is possible.
Donât accept yourself as a finished product. Ever. We all have weaknesses. And those weaknesses donât mean that youâre weak. It means that you have so much more you can accomplish.
What would have happened if Michael Jordan quit when his game wasnât good enough for him to make his varsity basketball team?
What if Arnold Schwarzenegger had listened to all the naysayers in his tiny little village in Austria on his way to becoming the worldâs greatest bodybuilder? Or action star? Or governor?
What if Steve Jobs had quit after Apple failed and was being crushed by the PC world?
Those who work on their weaknesses, shortcomings, and/or failures are destined to become great. Those who donât, fall behind.