Peter Schott

I had breakfast (waffles and coffee) with a friend of mine back in October of last year. It was the second time we’d met in the past few months at the same place. What had started as business conversations quickly turned to many other topics about life, adventure, and changes. I shared some of the things happening in my life and he said:

“You’ll be alright, you always choose the brave path.”

My unnamed friend…you know who you are

I smiled and it provided some temporary reassurance. I do choose the brave path! Although when I think of the brave path, I usually think about the part at the end of the journey. After the hero has conquered the darkness, the villain, and is seen leaving the castle with treasure in hand. The hero always has this satisfied, gleaming smile. There’s usually a few people cheering the hero on as they are off to their next adventure.

It’s easy to forget that sometimes the brave path sucks.

There are times of darkness. Confusion. Loss. Doubt.

I’ve been relatively silent on social media lately because I’m on my own brave path right now. It’s not all sunshine and it’s not all darkness. In the past year I’ve been able to:

• Grow a business with contract renewals and increased revenue.
• Find myself and my company in the center of a showcase global marketing campaign.
• Launched a new publication (first issue coming soon!).
• Starting the framework for a non-profit.
• Reconnect with people who mean the world to me.

On the flip side of that there has been much darkness. Things I am not ready to share publicly but have stretched me in ways I didn’t know was possible. I’ve cried more times than I can count as I learn to grieve. Made difficult decisions. Doubted myself time and time again. Felt lost.

You may be asking yourself why I’m writing or sharing this. To be honest, I’m asking the same question. I think I do it, in part, to let people know that it’s ok to struggle. Maybe my vulnerability will give them permission to feel their hurt and breathe through it.

Part of why I share is it helps me take the power away from the pain. When I hide my pain, I do so from a center of fear. And in that center, the pain can grow.

Lastly, it’s a reminder of this time for me. When I look back on it in the coming hours/days/weeks/months/years, I won’t always be bruised. Future Peter will read this and be grateful that I shared and that I continued to walk the brave path.

Hoping to walk alongside a few of you.