when everything falls apart

hey friend,

October 2014. I’m sitting in a hotel room in Florida.
staring at the floor. my head in my hands.

a year ago, I was flying jets.
today, I’m working a job I hate.
the injury took everything.

I think: what’s the point of even trying anymore?

that’s when I remember something my flight instructor told me:
“Moon, when you’re overwhelmed in the cockpit…
you don’t try to fix everything at once.
you aviate first.”

aviate. navigate. communicate.
in that order.
always.

but I’m not in a cockpit anymore.
I’m in a cheap hotel room with no plan and no future.

then it hits me: maybe life works the same way.
maybe when everything’s falling apart, you don’t try to fix it all.
you just focus on flying the plane.

but what’s “aviating” when you’re not a pilot anymore?

I grab a piece of hotel stationery.
write down one thing: “17 seconds.”

that’s it.
that’s all I could handle.

for 17 seconds, I would visualize what I wanted my life to look like.
just 17 seconds.
once a day.

not a business plan.
not a five-year strategy.
not a vision board.

seventeen seconds of seeing myself successful again.
it sounds stupid.
it felt stupid.

but I was broken.
and broken people can’t handle big commitments.

day one: 17 seconds of imagining myself helping people get fit…
day two: 17 seconds of seeing myself making an impact…
day three: 17 seconds of picturing a business that mattered…

after 30 days, something shifted.

I started noticing opportunities I’d missed before.
a gym owner mentioned he needed help.
a book on a shelf I never cared to read before was now interesting.

my brain was filtering differently.
the reticular activating system…
that bundle of neurons that decides what gets your attention.
it was working for me instead of against me.

by day 60, I’d started End of Three Fitness (my first company).
by day 100, I had paying clients.

here’s what I learned:
when you can’t handle the big stuff…
master the small stuff.

most people do the opposite.
they set massive goals they can’t stick to, then quit when they fail.

they try to overhaul their entire life on January 1st.
new diet, new workout, new morning routine, new everything.

that’s not aviating.
that’s trying to fix the navigation system while the plane is crashing.

the 17-second process taught me something crucial:
your brain doesn’t care about your goals.
it cares about your patterns.

every day you do something, you’re training your brain that you’re the type of person who does that thing.

skip the gym once?
you’re training yourself to be someone who skips.

do it anyway when you don’t want to?
you’re training yourself to be someone who follows through.

the size of the action doesn’t matter.
the consistency does.

seventeen seconds was small enough that I couldn’t fail.
but consistent enough that it rewired my brain.

after 100 days, I didn’t need the timer anymore.
the habit of taking action (even tiny action) had become automatic.

that hotel room moment was eleven years ago.

we’ve trained over 25,000 athletes.
I’ve written books.
built multiple businesses.

all because I learned to aviate first.

when your life is falling apart, don’t try to navigate or communicate.
don’t make elaborate plans or tell everyone about your comeback.

just aviate.
do one small thing that keeps you moving forward.

seventeen seconds.
that’s it.

what’s your 17-second action?
what’s the smallest possible thing you could do today that moves you toward who you want to become?

do that. just that.

tomorrow, do it again.

the plane will stabilize.
then you can worry about where you’re going.

try harder,

JM

p.s. - I don’t know who needed to read this today, but if that was you… reply and let me know.