We reached a pretty amazing milestone at Beyond the Crucible this month. We published our 300th podcast episode on Feb. 24.

How rare is that number? Consider that studies show 90 percent of podcasts don’t make it past three episodes. Only 5.8 percent survive to see 100. And the number that match the milestone we’ve just marked? 1.79 percent.

How small is that? If you convert it to a baseball batting average, the player unfortunate enough to have it in his stat line would be batting just .018. That would mean he’s a bad ballplayer, but it means we’re a good podcast.

As astounding as the numbers are, though, one true measure of our podcast, begun Nov. 5, 2019, is the cupboard of key phrases we’ve collected over that time that help us turn our trials into triumphs as we craft a vision for a life of significance.

These insights have been birthed from my and Warwick’s discussions of the best practices to weather and overcome crucibles (including those culled from Warwick’s own life-rattling setback of losing his family’s 150-year-old media dynasty); and, of course, from the stories told by our diverse roster of 146 guests – among them an Oscar-nominated film producer, an Emmy-winning football sideline reporter for ESPN and a special assistant to a former U.S. president.

So, from those insights we’ve gleaned, here are the ten top dollops of wisdom that have helped to craft the day-to-day lexicon of Beyond the Crucible:

1. Your worst day doesn’t define you. It’s an all-too-common emotion after a crucible: my life is over, ruined, will never be the same again. The shame I’m feeling right now will stick to me for the rest of my life.

But that’s not true.

One of the many commonalities our guests and our host, Warwick, have is that they have escaped the suffocating clutches of their crucible’s sting. By reflecting on what happened and how it happened, by leaning into and applying the lessons the crucible taught them, they have gone on to not be defined by what went wrong, but what they’ve gone on to do right. By the life of significance they’ve found.

2. Your crucible can be a gift. We heard this expressed to us by our guest Stacey Copas. She suffered an injury that left her a quadriplegic when she dove into an above-ground pool as a girl – and the pain of that crucible led to her struggles with substance abuse and suicidal ideation.

But it also led to her developing mental and physical resilience that opened up a career as a speaker and life coach. And, as she told us, she doesn’t believe any of that would have been possible had she not endured her crucible. It was, she said, the catalyst for her growth and success.

3. No matter the size of our vision, it matters. There are no small visions born out of crucibles, we’ve learned from guest after guest. Anything we do to live our lives on purpose, dedicated to serving others, makes the world a better place and us more fulfilled people.

4. Faith is something outside yourself that serves as an immovable anchor for your soul. For some it may be a religious tradition. For others, a philosophical conviction. What matters, as you craft your vision for a life of significance post-crucible, is that you do so with your reason for pursuing it rooted in something greater than and different from yourself. Lives of significance aren’t about us; they are about something bigger than us.

5. You have to do the soul work. Warwick coined this phrase to speak to the deep self-reflection necessary to move beyond a crucible. It’s not sufficient to just change your surroundings; you often have to reorder your mindset, focus on tapping into who you truly are beneath the surface, to catapult beyond a crucible.

6. Your worst day is your worst day; it is not a competition. Warwick experienced this truth in one of the podcast’s first interviews in episode 5. The guests, father and son ex-Navy Seals Mike and David Charbonnet, were talking with us about David’s becoming paralyzed in a training accident.

Warwick started a question to David by saying that his own crucible of losing $2.25 billion in a failed takeover of his family’s 150-year-old media dynasty was “nothing” compared to what David had been through. David chimed in quickly to kindly stop Warwick from completing that thought. “Your worst pain is your worst pain,” he said. His point? There is no competition with crucibles. Warwick has held this truth close in the more than 290 episodes of the podcast that have followed.

7. Forgiveness doesn’t mean condoning what was done to you. Forgiveness is always needed in the aftermath of a crucible. Sometimes we have to forgive ourselves, sometimes we have to forgive those who have hurt us. But that doesn’t mean in the latter case we are saying what was done to us was “OK.” It simply means we are choosing to let go of any pain or resentment we may still harbor. Why is that so important? Keep reading.

8. Lack of forgiveness is like drinking poison. The only person we really punish if we refuse to forgive is ourselves. The bitterness ginned up by not forgiving has corrosive effects on us. It is impossible to truly move past a crucible if we’re still holding on to resentment and unforgiveness. Let it go to get something better back: peace that helps fuel a vision that can lead to a life of significance.

9. We need fellow travelers. Warwick coined this phrase to identify the friends and allies with whom we surround ourselves as we’re navigating our way back from a crucible. These are people who we trust enough to allow them to speak into our vision and who have, in many cases, different skills and passions than we do, who can add fuel to get our vision ignited. Fellow travelers are indispensable to turning a vision into a reality that leads to a life of significance.

10. Character is your belief system in action. Our beliefs and values are the ingredients we pour into our vision. But that vision will be nothing more than a raw recipe if we don’t bake the mixture. Character is the stove in which our beliefs and values become a vision that can nourish us as we move forward to implement our new post-crucible life of significance.

We’re excited at Beyond the Crucible about the learnings we’ve culled from 300 episodes of the podcast that make up the lexicon we use to help you move from trial to triumph, from setback to significance.

But we’re even more excited to move on to episode 301 and start collecting even more helpful insights to help you move beyond your crucible.


Reflection

1. Do you see your crucible as a gift? Why or why not?

2. What does “doing the soul work” mean to you and how do you make sure you do it?

3. Name three fellow travelers. What makes each of them uniquely helpful to you as you craft your vision and pursue a life of significance?


Are you ready to move from trials to triumphs? Then join us on the journey today.  Take our free Beyond the Crucible Trials-to-Triumphs Self-Assessment.

We share inspirational stories and transformational tools from leaders who have moved beyond life’s most difficult moments to create lives of significance.

Listen to our Beyond the Crucible Podcast here.

Our Beyond the Crucible summer podcast series, BIG SCREEN, BIG CRUCIBLES, has explored (and will continue exploring for another month) the ways in which powerful films can inspire and equip us to overcome adversity.

Each movie we chose for the series presents characters facing high-stakes hardships – crucibles, in our parlance – and emerging stronger because they leaned into the lessons those setbacks and failures taught them. Let’s take a deeper-dive look into three of those movies and the insights they offer us to not let our worst day define us.

In Unbroken, the dramatization of Louis Zamperini’s remarkable true story, we see him endure unbelievable hardships during World War II without giving up. Zamperini survives a plane crash and 47 days adrift at sea, only to be captured and tortured in a Japanese prison camp. Yet through every beatdown and desperate low, he refuses to let his captors defeat his will. He refuses to be broken.

What keeps Zamperini going under such crushing circumstances? One key is his mindset. He clings to a simple motto taught by his brother: “If you can take it, you can make it.” This phrase becomes his lifeline during captivity, a reminder that endurance itself is victory.

At one point, a fellow prisoner encourages Louis that “We can beat them by making it to the end of the war alive” – meaning their triumph will come through outlasting the torment with sheer endurance. This outlook turns survival into a form of resistance. Zamperini’s persevering attitude – take it and make it – allows him to withstand horrendous torture and deprivation without losing hope.

Perhaps most importantly, Unbroken shows that perseverance is not a one-time choice but a daily discipline. There are moments when Louis is on the brink of despair, yet he finds strength in remembering his purpose (like returning home with honor) and the people rooting for him. Each day he survives is a day he “wins” against his captors.

In our own lives, few of us will face trials as extreme as Zamperini’s WWII ordeal. But the principle of perseverance applies to any crucible we encounter – be it a health battle, career setback or personal loss. Perseverance means refusing to quit even when circumstances are painfully hard. It means getting up one more time than we fall, holding on a little longer, and believing that if we can endure today, we can find a better tomorrow.

Louis Zamperini’s story illustrates that maintaining hope and grit through hardship can ultimately lead to triumph. His unbroken spirit invites us to ask: What challenges in my life require the “never give up” attitude? If we can foster that kind of resilience, we too can emerge from our trials stronger and unbroken.

The film follows Daniel “Rudy” Ruettiger, a working-class young man whose one big dream is to play football for the University of Notre Dame. It’s a goal as audacious as it is unlikely – Rudy is undersized, lacks natural athletic ability and doesn’t have the grades or money to get into Notre Dame. Friends, family and practically everyone tell him it’s impossible. In fact, the people closest to Rudy often discourage him from pursuing that dream. His father gently but firmly urges him to abandon the “crazy” idea; his older brother mocks him for aiming too high.

Yet Rudy refuses to quit. His unwavering determination in the face of naysayers is the heartbeat of the movie. He works grueling jobs and studies relentlessly at a junior college (after multiple rejections from Notre Dame) to earn admission. Even when others laugh at him, Rudy keeps his eye on the goal.

In time, that dogged persistence pays off – Rudy transfers to Notre Dame, makes the practice squad for the football team and after two years of being pummeled by bigger, faster players, he finally earns a chance to dress for one game in 1975. In the film’s emotional finale (based, like Unbroken, on a true story), Rudy gets in for one play and records a quarterback sack as the stadium erupts in chants of his name. It’s a brief moment of glory, but it represents years of sweat and an indomitable spirit.

One of the most powerful messages in Rudy is how he handles doubt and discouragement. Rather than internalize the skepticism of others, Rudy uses it as fuel to push harder. He proves that even if no one else believes in your dream, you owe it to yourself to believe.

The takeaway for us is straightforward: don’t give up on your dreams, even if the world tells you to. Whatever your “Notre Dame” is – a career goal, a personal project, a life ambition – if it truly matters to you, if it will fuel your life of significance, keep pursuing it with all the grit you can muster. Yes, be prepared for obstacles and doubters; as Rudy shows, the path to a dream is often anchored in frustration and tribulation.

But Rudy’s story confirms that persistence can turn the tide. In real life, just as in the reel life of the movie, you may find that the journey is long and hard – but the victory, when it comes, will be that much more meaningful and impactful because of all the struggles you overcame.

Rudy’s hard-won triumph urges each of us to ask: What dream have I put on hold, and how can I start pursuing it despite the obstacles? Your dream may not be easy, but as Rudy would remind us, it’s worth every ounce of effort. Never quit – the next try might be the one that makes the difference.

Unlike the physical battles of Unbroken or Rudy, the central crucible in Les Misérables is a moral and emotional one: former prisoner Jean Valjean’s struggle to overcome hatred, guilt and the relentless punishment of society. His journey illustrates how forgiving others – and ourselves – can break the chains of the past and light a path to redemption.

When we first meet Valjean, he is hardened by years of unjust imprisonment and rejection. Fate, however, puts him at the mercy of Bishop Myriel, a kindly clergyman. In a pivotal scene, Valjean, desperate and bitter, steals silver from the bishop and is caught by police. It seems he’s doomed to return to prison. But in an act of stunning mercy, the bishop lies to save Valjean, insisting the silver was a gift – and even gives him two additional silver candlesticks. He tells Valjean he has “bought [his] soul for God,” urging him to use the silver to become an honest man.

This moment of mercy hits Valjean like a thunderbolt. Overwhelmed by such undeserved grace, he undergoes a profound change of heart. He chooses to start anew, eventually building a life of significance as a virtuous businessman and mayor under a new identity. Les Misérables shows that being forgiven can free a person to redefine themselves for the better – for themselves and for society. Valjean learns to forgive himself for his past as he experiences the healing power of another’s compassion.

Forgiveness in Les Misérables is not portrayed as easy or soft; it’s portrayed as revolutionary and deeply powerful. Later in the story, Valjean has a chance to take revenge on his longtime pursuer, Inspector Javert – a rigid policeman who has hounded Valjean for decades for breaking parole. In the midst of a political uprising, Javert is captured and his fate put in Valjean’s hands. Rather than settle the score, Valjean surprises Javert by sparing his life and letting him go free.

Javert, who lives by the law with zero mercy, is thrown off by this act of forgiveness – it becomes his crucible to bear. In fact, he finds Valjean’s mercy so unthinkable that he cannot reconcile it with his worldview – tragically, Javert ends his own life because he is unable to live with the implications of such radical mercy.
The lesson for us is that forgiveness can be a path to liberation. When we forgive someone who hurt us – or forgive ourselves for mistakes – we release the crippling hold of anger, bitterness and guilt. Valjean’s life shows that forgiveness isn’t about excusing wrong or forgetting pain; it’s about not letting those wrongs and pains define our future. By forgiving, Valjean breaks a cycle of hatred and becomes a force for good, caring for Cosette (the orphaned daughter of one of his former factory workers, Fantine) and spreading love wherever he can.

Forgiveness turns his trial into triumph – the grave trials (imprisonment, poverty, persecution) forge in Valjean a spirit of compassion that lights up many other lives. Meanwhile, Javert’s fate is a cautionary tale: an inability to forgive or accept grace leaves one stuck. Forgiveness – difficult as it may be – is often the only way to move forward. It doesn’t mean forgetting or condoning harm, but rather refusing to let the hurt dictate our lives any longer.

Ultimately, Les Misérables teaches that practicing mercy and forgiveness can lead to personal freedom and healing. Whether it’s forgiving someone who wronged you or extending compassion to yourself, letting go of bitterness unlocks the possibility of new beginnings. Ask yourself: Is there someone I need to forgive – including myself? By choosing forgiveness, you’re not letting the offender off the hook as much as freeing your own heart from the weight of hatred. It is, as the film shows, the key to turning misery into hope. In our crucibles of life, forgiveness can be the bridge from trial to triumph.



Are you ready to move from trials to triumphs? Then join us on the journey today.  Take our free Beyond the Crucible Trials-to-Triumphs Self-Assessment.

We share inspirational stories and transformational tools from leaders who have moved beyond life’s most difficult moments to create lives of significance.

Listen to our Beyond the Crucible Podcast here.

We tend to think of summer, and try our best to experience it, as a season of freedom — vacations, sunshine and a slower pace of day-to-day life. But if you’re still somewhere between the midst and the aftermath of a crucible that has sent shockwaves through your world, the season’s bright veneer can feel like a cruel mismatch to the storm still roiling inside you.

Maybe you’re navigating the fallout of a divorce or the death of someone you loved deeply. Maybe you’ve lost a job you were off-the-charts passionate about, one that fit your talents and values as snugly as your favorite ballcap. Perhaps you walked away from a career that you felt threatened your health or integrity. Or you could be still working through the emotional toll of a serious illness. Whatever your crucible, its heat can linger long after the immediate crisis cools.

Summer, however, with its longer days and built-in pauses, can be a powerful ally in your pursuit of peace. But that peace doesn’t come passively. Healing isn’t something you drift into on a pool float. It’s something you work toward—intentionally, almost-certainly imperfectly, one day at a time. Here are some hard-earned truths and practical action steps for using this season to reflect, regroup and reclaim the perspective, and the hope it brings you, that your crucible didn’t happen to you, it happened for you.

Pause with Purpose

Many of us, in the wake of difficulty, rush forward—back into routines, work, relationships—anything to avoid sitting still with our pain, regret and anxiety. Summer gives us the space to pause. Use it.

But don’t confuse stillness with stagnation. Purposeful pausing means setting aside time regularly to reflect on what you’ve been through — to do the “soul work” necessary to turn your worst day into your greatest opportunity. That might mean journaling on the back porch as the sun sets. Or taking a solo walk in the park with nothing but your thoughts and the breeze. Ask yourself: What am I feeling today? What am I avoiding? What still hurts? Naming the ache is the first step toward healing it.

Here are 4 summertime opportunities to beat the heat of a crucible that still sears:

1. Redefine Rest. When we’re wounded, rest is not optional—it’s essential. But real rest is more than binging Netflix or collapsing into bed early. It’s about what fills you, not just what numbs you.
This summer, ask yourself: What kind of rest do I need today? There’s physical rest—like naps and sleep. But there’s also emotional rest (setting boundaries), creative rest (reading poetry, painting) and spiritual rest (prayer, meditation, silence). Schedule rest like it matters—because it does.

2. Seek Gentle Community. Crucibles can be isolating. Friends don’t always know what to say, and we may not know how to ask for what we need. But healing rarely happens in a vacuum. It happens when we lean into our relationships with those we call our fellow travelers. Use the slower social tempo of summer to reconnect in ways that don’t require you to “be OK.” Have a friend over for iced tea with no agenda. Join a book club or volunteer at a local event—somewhere you can simply be yourself, free of the self-imposed baggage of feeling “less-than” that a tough crucible can leave us feeling like we’re dragging around with us. Sometimes the most healing thing is to be seen, without having to explain. Your closest family and friends, your true allies, won’t require you to be anything or anyone but yourself.

3. Find Small Anchors of Joy. When life shatters, joy can feel hard to come by at best, irresponsible to nestle into at worst. But healing doesn’t mean denying what hurts—it means remembering that beauty and pain can coexist. That there is hope to be found inside heartache.
Make a list of small things that bring light into your days: a favorite summer fruit, an old song that makes you smile, the feel of grass under bare feet. Build them into your days with intention. These small moments won’t fix your pain—but they can remind you that healing is possible.

4. Choose Hope (Even When It’s Heavy.) Healing isn’t linear, and peace doesn’t arrive in a finger snap like a summer storm. It comes slowly, unevenly. But summer offers us space to be deliberate with our hearts. To reflect. To rest. To say, even in the midst of deep wounds: I am still here. I am still healing. I am going to see this painful process through until I turn my trial into triumph.
Hope is not the absence of pain. It’s the belief that something meaningful can come from that pain. That’s a lesson we at Beyond the Crucible have learned from our own journeys from setback to significance, and the truth the guests on our podcast have shared with us, no matter how different the circumstances of their crucibles may be from each other.

Let this summer be your season of unrushed return—one breath, one step one sunrise at a time. You don’t have to be in a mad dash. But you do have to move. Peace isn’t found. It’s forged. And summer, with all its heat and hush, can be where your healing begins.



Are you ready to move from trials to triumphs? Then join us on the journey today.  Take our free Beyond the Crucible Trials-to-Triumphs Self-Assessment.

We share inspirational stories and transformational tools from leaders who have moved beyond life’s most difficult moments to create lives of significance.

Listen to our Beyond the Crucible Podcast here.

A Charlie Brown Christmas, the TV special that’s been a yuletide staple since its premiere in 1965, almost didn’t even make it to its first airing. That’s because even though the Peanuts comic strip had been popular since premiering 15 years earlier, pretty much every aspect of the television production – the first animation featuring the Peanuts gang and shepherded by its creator, Charles Schulz — was rushed.

As a result, one of the producers thought the finished product was so bad that they had “killed” Peanuts for future animation efforts, and the network that signed on to broadcast the show, CBS, thought it would be a colossal failure. Yet its premiere drew 45 percent of everyone in America watching TV that evening – reaching more than 15 million homes – and the rest has become holiday history that is still being written.

Perhaps the crucibles the special encountered on its way to the screen were to be expected, since A Charlie Brown Christmas is all about the title character’s struggle with his own major crucible. From the opening scene, Charlie Brown is caught in emotional upheaval that leaves him depressed about the holiday, which is sung about as “the most wonderful time of the year” and is experienced as just that – at least on the surface – by the other kids in his orbit.

“I don’t feel the way I’m supposed to feel,” he confides to his best pal, Linus. A bit later, after inspecting his mailbox to see that he still hasn’t received a Christmas card, he’s left musing, “I know nobody likes me. Why do we have to have a holiday season to emphasize it?” His doldrums deepen when his little sister, Sally, asks for his help in composing a letter to Santa – and she tells St. Nick that if he wants to “make it easy” on himself, he can just send cash in lieu of the litany of toys she enumerates. She asks for the dough in “tens and twenties,” since she’s been extra good and “all I want is what I have coming to me. All I want is my fair share.”

All of this leaves Charlie Brown to conclude Christmas has become too commercialized. This setup sends him on a hero’s journey of sorts to discover his Christmas joy by trying to discover the true meaning of the holiday.

He does three critical things to turn his trial into triumph – lessons about moving beyond a crucible that can help all of us navigate our way back from setback and failure.

1. He leans into authenticity and is vulnerable for a purpose. Charlie Brown, despite his ever-present desire to be liked, refuses to play along with his materialistic friends and family, or even his dog, Snoopy, who has pulled out all the stops to decorate his doghouse splashily enough to win a decorating contest and its cash prize. He even parts with a nickel to get “psychiatric counsel” from Lucy to understand why he’s so glum.

It’s an important turning point for him as he wrestles with his despondency. It’s also extraordinarily brave because Lucy – the girl who always snatches the football away just as he tries to kick it – surely must have seemed to him as an unlikely source of assistance. But by being vulnerable to the one person he likely thought would take advantage of him for it, he shows great belief that maybe, just maybe, she’ll treat him squarely. It’s a risk that pays off when Lucy rewards his earnestness with an opportunity: she makes him the director of the kids’ upcoming Christmas play. Charlie Brown’s not out of the emotional woods just yet, but there’s the slightest bit of light at the end of his tunnel.

That glimmer of hope is one we should all dig in to and search for when hopelessness threatens to keep us from moving forward post-crucible. When we’re at the precipice of thinking all is lost, when the negativity of our circumstances threatens to lead us to giving up and pulling the covers over our head, we can only get ahead by not throwing in the towel. By persevering.

2. He casts a vision and sticks to it. Charlie Brown throws himself completely into the opportunity to stage the holiday play. He has no experience directing a play, but he knows how he wants this one to go. His initial efforts to get the kids to listen to his direction fall flat – rather than getting into their characters as he directs, they ignore him and dance away to the bouncy tune being played on the piano by Schroeder. He’s frustrated to “Good grief!” intensity but presses on. He changes course – rather than trying to direct the cast, he focuses on dressing the set. He heads out, with Linus, to get a Christmas tree for the show.

But not just any tree. Especially not the kind Lucy urges him to retrieve – “the biggest aluminum tree you can find.” At the tree lot, he walks past all the artificial specimens and instead gravitates toward a spare, sickly looking real tree with only a few branches. He’s taken by it immediately. “This little green one here seems to need a home,” he tells Linus. “I think it needs me.”

Charlie Brown had to have known grabbing that tree would lead to the catcalls of the gang’s favorite taunt for him: “blockhead.” But he does it anyway. So strong is his vision for a play that celebrates Christmas in a way that isn’t artificial that he’s willing to suffer the slings and arrows of his friends for sticking to his vision.

We all have to muster the same courage if we have any hope, any chance, of bringing our own visions to reality. Living a life of significance – a life on purpose dedicated to serving others – is not a popularity contest. We can’t achieve it by compromising our values; quite the contrary, we only reach that destination by doubling down on those values and the passions that undergird them. This is especially true when we encounter opposition.

3. He enlists a team of fellow travelers to help him. The tree, not surprisingly, is met with derision by the gang. Charlie Brown finds himself thrown back into depression and despair. He tells Linus, “I shouldn’t have picked this little tree. Everything I do turns into a disaster. I guess I really don’t know what Christmas is all about.” But rather than wallow there, he asks a rhetorical question of his friend: “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?”

It’s the first time he has not just expressed his disillusionment about not experiencing the Christmas spirit but poses a question about how he might overcome those feelings. He wants someone to explain to him how to get in touch with the spirit of Christmas for reasons that have nothing to do with gifts and dollar signs. Linus seizes the moment to become to Charlie Brown the kind of ally we talk about a lot at Beyond the Crucible: a fellow traveler, someone with experience and even expertise we don’t have who complements us as we journey our way back from a crucible. By telling the story of Jesus’ birth and the hope His arrival gave the world, Linus gives Charlie Brown hope. An answer to the question that has plagued him throughout the special.

Even more than that, Linus becoming a fellow traveler inspires the rest of the gang to do the same. They don’t continue to team up, as they so often do in the Peanuts universe, to chide Charlie Brown. They join forces to support him. Inspired by Linus’ speech to emulate Linus’ support of their friend, they too become fellow travelers and follow Charlie Brown to his house, where he’s gone to decorate the tree he’s recommitted to. They repurpose Snoopy’s prize-winning decorations to transform the little wooden tree into a masterpiece of Christmastime beauty. It all ends joyously as they shout in unison, “Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!” … then break into “Hark, The Herald Angels Sing.”

We all need fellow travelers to help us stay the course on our journeys back from our crucibles. The weight of facing the doubts a setback can plague us with require the help of others who can share the burdens and, perhaps more importantly, alleviate them with their wisdom and support. Bouncing forward from our worst day is a team sport.

A Charlie Brown Christmas has been making a clear case for what Christmas is all about for nearly 60 years. It’s also been showing those of us who have experienced setback and failure the key steps we must take to understand our worst day is not the end of our story – but the launching point for a life-giving new story.


• Is authenticity, especially in the wake of a crucible, easy or hard for you? Why do you think that is? And if it’s hard, how can you work on making it easier?

• Recall a time when you stuck to your vision even when it was difficult. How did it make you feel to do so? How did it turn out in the end?

• Do you have a team of fellow travelers that can help you navigate your way beyond a crucible? If you do, who are they and why did you select them? If you don’t, who can you enlist and what qualities will you look for?


Are you ready to move from trials to triumphs? Then join us on the journey today.  Take our free Beyond the Crucible Trials-to-Triumphs Self-Assessment.

We share inspirational stories and transformational tools from leaders who have moved beyond life’s most difficult moments to create lives of significance.

Listen to our Beyond the Crucible Podcast here.

We are nearing the end of our summer podcast series CLASSIC FILMS, CLASSIC CRUCIBLE LESSONS, each episode examining the inspiration and action steps we can glean from the central characters in movies the American Film Institute named as among the Top 100 U.S. motion pictures of all time.

In every episode, we have focused on one character (OK, two in the still-to-come Toy Story) to extract our lessons, be it Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird or Oskar Schindler in Schindler’s List, Rocky Balboa in Rocky or Frodo Baggins in The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring.

In most cases we have held up that big-screen protagonist, and the crucible(s) they overcame, to say, “Follow the steps they followed in moving beyond setback and failure and you’ll understand how to move beyond setback and failure, too.”

Except in three instances.

Two of the exceptions were found in our first two episodes: Citizen Kane and The Godfather. That’s because neither Charles Foster Kane nor Michael Corleone had the character or courage to not let their worst day(s) define them. The lessons they taught us about moving from trials to triumphs were in spite of how they lived, not because of it. If you want to move past your crucible to live a life of significance, what they teach us is what not to do.

And George Bailey nearly teaches us the same lesson. In fact, only divine intervention saves him from doing so.

Does that surprise you? That there is a more joyous path toward living a life of significance and fulfillment than being a George Bailey? Then keep reading.

George suffers through a series of crucibles — from losing his hearing in his left ear saving his brother Harry from drowning to having to step in as president of the family’s small building and loan after his dad dies, and then needing the honeymoon money he and his new wife Mary saved to keep the institution afloat when the stock market crashes. What makes these such painful crucibles is that George has, from his youngest days, dreamed of being an explorer, “shaking the dust of this crummy little town” of Bedford Falls off his feet and not just seeing, but conquering, the world.

“I want to do something big and important,” he tells his dad when asked if he’d ever consider taking over the building and loan. George dismisses the enterprise as being in the “business of nickels and dimes” – and yet, each crucible requires him to stay in Bedford Falls and keep the building and loan afloat.

George never completely stops resenting the life he is left to live or grieving the life he believes his crucibles have stolen from him. Through the thick of the plot of It’s a Wonderful Life, he continues to do the right thing even as he dreams of doing something different. He is living out a vision for a life of significance without realizing it, let alone understanding it.

Yes, it’s clear he finds real joy in his family life with Mary and their children and doing good deeds for the community. But in his heart there remains a gnawing feeling that he is not doing what he was created to do.

It takes the searing fire of his final crucible, caused by his Uncle Billy’s mistake of losing eight thousand building-and-loan dollars he was supposed to deposit in the bank, for George to see that he’s already living a wonderful life – even without the exotic vacations to faraway lands. More importantly, he sees that he is living precisely the life he was intended to live, and that he is doing something plenty big.

This is where his guardian angel, Clarence Odbody, plays an indispensable role. George, fearing financial ruin and jail, gets drunk and prays for help. Contemplating suicide, he goes to a nearby bridge. But before he can jump, Clarence dives into the freezing river and … George rescues him.

When George makes an offhand comment to Clarence that everyone would be better off if he had never been born. Clarence seizes on that hastily spoken wish to grant it: showing George what life would be like in Bedford Falls if George Bailey had never been born.

With him erased, life is bitter and bleak. Bedford Falls isn’t even Bedford Falls anymore, but Pottersville, named after the dour, greedy town magnate, its quaint town square replaced by sordid characters and sketchy businesses. Harry is dead – having drowned when he fell through the ice in 1919 because his big brother wasn’t there to save him. And Mary is living a scared and lonely life – no husband, no children, no joy. It is, most assuredly, not a wonderful life.

George flees back to the bridge and begs for his life back. His wish granted, he rushes home to await his arrest – bank examiners who had been doing an audit of the building and loan end up investigating George when Uncle Billy loses the deposit. Meanwhile, Mary and Billy have rallied the townspeople, who donate more than enough to replace the missing money. Harry arrives and toasts George as “the richest man in town.” Not in material wealth; that would be the stingy Mr. Potter. But in the richness of his relationships.

This is George’s epiphany. He sees for the first time that the life he has led has made his community a much better, richer place. He has offered hope and healing to his friends and family. His passion for adventure and to make his mark on the business world in a way bigger than the building and loan has allowed has not been denied – just realized in a quieter, more meaningful manner. He feels his impact has been slight, but it has been anything but. He understands that taking care of others’ needs rather than chasing his own wants has led to robust reward. He finally sees the same value in himself others have always seen in him.

Such is the power of embracing our crucible experiences and allowing them to lead us to discover our design, craft our vision, and make that vision a reality. When that reality leads us to live a significant life, it is indeed a wonderful life.



Are you ready to move from trials to triumphs? Then join us on the journey today.  Take our free Beyond the Crucible Trials-to-Triumphs Self-Assessment.

We share inspirational stories and transformational tools from leaders who have moved beyond life’s most difficult moments to create lives of significance.

Listen to our Beyond the Crucible Podcast here.

Since we debuted the Beyond the Crucible podcast on Dec. 5, 2019, we have interviewed 124 guests with vastly different stories about what their worst days were, and how they journeyed from trials to triumphs in the wake of them. Some of our guests experienced physical crucibles, some emotional trauma, some substance-abuse problems, others reversals of professional fortune.

Those guests have been men and women. They have represented different races and ethnicities, socioeconomic statuses and demographic profiles. Yet despite this rich diversity, they all had one thing in common: They learned lessons from their setbacks and failures that helped them to cast new visions that have allowed them to live lives of fulfilling and joyous significance. But then we launched our current series.

In Classic Films, Classic Crucible Lessons – a look at what we can learn about overcoming trauma and tragedy from some of the American Film Institute’s Top 100 films – we have traversed ground we never explored before: the lessons we can learn about overcoming crucibles from people who failed to overcome theirs.

Not actual people, of course, but fictional characters in some of the films we’ve discussed. In the midst of recording the first two episodes of the series, on Citizen Kane and The Godfather, Warwick and I realized the protagonists of those movies – Charles Foster Kane and Michael Corleone – had never come to the realization that their crucibles didn’t happen to them, but for them. Their inability, or disinterest, or a bit of both, to move beyond their crucibles in healthy ways destroyed them.

If you caught the first two episodes of the series on those two films, you know the stories are tragic. But they are also, as we mentioned, cautionary tales. And the upside of a cautionary tale is that we – the ones who hear and see those tales – can gain insight and perspective from the details of those that the ones the stories are about never do. That’s precisely what happened in our examinations of Citizen Kane and The Godfather.

Here are three takeaways from those movies that can keep us from succumbing to the same fate Kane and Corleone did.

1. Don’t settle for success but commit to significance. Both Kane and Corleone became wealthy men – in Kane’s case, one of the richest in the world. They could buy anything they wanted – Kane building himself a grand home, Xanadu, referred to in the movie as a “pleasure palace”; Corleone buying the casinos and other criminal enterprises out from under his mob rivals.

But all their financial abundance proved no match for the lack of happiness in their lives. Kane destroyed both of his marriages, longed for respect that he never received; Corleone grew more hard-hearted as his wealth and power also grew. Kane at least recognized his limitations even though he did nothing to curtail them, admitting in the middle of the film that “if I hadn’t been very rich, I might have been a really great man.” So, Kane died longing for the simpler times of his childhood — his final word, Rosebud, revealed at the end of the film to be the name of the sled he played with as a boy from a family of meager means. Corleone could never rest, his ruthlessness to those who competed with his crime family leading to his ordering the killing of his brother-in-law and lying to his wife about it – the movie ending on him shutting her out of his office when one of his henchmen closes the door on her as she looks in. It’s symbolic of the way all that he had led to all that he couldn’t have. Success stunted both men’s shot at significance.

2.The values by which we live our lives post-crucibles must be rooted in a set of unchanging morals and values. Both Kane and Corleone are not just me-first characters, but me-only ones. Kane’s best friend. Jedidiah Leland, remarks to a film crew researching Kane’s last words that his friend “never believed in anything except Charlie Kane. He never had a conviction except Charlie Kane in his life. I suppose he died without one. That must have been pretty unpleasant.”

The only code that governed Corleone’s life was the mafia code of omerta – the inviolable commitment to silence about the “family business” expected of all who were in it. A running theme in The Godfather is that violent acts against other mob families aren’t personal, but strictly business. Growing up in such an environment, even though as the youngest son of the godfather who only became the don himself because of a failed attempt on his father’s life and a successful one on his brother’s, Michael’s initial amorality and eventual immorality were hardwired into him. Like Kane, he did not have the moral fiber to move beyond his crucibles.

3. Beware stubbornness and where it can lead you. Kane was seemingly on his way to capturing his dream of being elected governor of New York when the crooked incumbent, Jim Geddes, confronted him with evidence he threatened to give to the press that Kane was cheating on his first wife. Geddes gave Kane the chance to drop out of the race, and he’d keep the affair quiet. But Kane’s stubbornness and hubris wouldn’t allow him to stand down. He didn’t just lose his wife, and the election, but he lost significant standing with the public whose adoration he craved.

Corleone was equally stubborn in his attempt to shift the family mafia business from New York to Las Vegas by strong arming casino owner Moe Green. Green chided him for thinking he had to power to cast him aside, saying he had talked to the Corleone family’s rivals about selling the casino to them, but Michael was undeterred. He not only took over Green’s gambling house, but also had him murdered – along with the heads of the other mafia families. Michael’s descent into such savagery stripped him of whatever soul he had left. By the end of the trilogy of Godfather films, he would die alone.

In both of the examples cited above – indeed, in many instances – stubbornness can exacerbate our weaknesses. That is certainly the case with Kane and Corleone – their stubbornness only made their hubris and lack of values more corrosive. Being stubborn makes it hard to move beyond our crucibles because it makes it easy to stay where we are.

If Charles Foster Kane and Michael Corleone were real people, they would never be guests featured on the Beyond the Crucible podcast. But their mistakes in how they lived their lives in the wake of their crucibles can, indeed, help us avoid making those same mistakes ourselves.



Are you ready to move from trials to triumphs? Then join us on the journey today.  Take our free Beyond the Crucible Trials-to-Triumphs Self-Assessment.

We share inspirational stories and transformational tools from leaders who have moved beyond life’s most difficult moments to create lives of significance.

Listen to our Beyond the Crucible Podcast here.

It’s become as much a part of the holiday season as eggnog and mistletoe, the annual 24-hour TV marathon of A Christmas Story. This is the 27th year the film will run continuously on cable, set to air on TBS and TNT from Sunday, Dec. 24 at 8pm ET to Monday, Dec. 25 at 8pm ET. The movie, originally released in 1983, is so popular that it came in at No. 2 in a poll The Associated Press did a few years ago asking Americans to name their favorite Christmas movie. It was bested only by It’s a Wonderful Life.

That was hardly the class of company A Christmas Story was expected to keep when it was released in 1983. A slight comedy about a 9-year-old boy in the 1940s Midwest whose only wish for Christmas is a Red Ryder Carbine Action 200-shot Range Model air rifle, the film is well-written and well-acted but certainly has no Oscar aspirations. The biggest name in the cast is Darrin McGavin, known for playing character roles in films like The Man With the Golden Arm (1955, menacing Frank Sinatra) and The Natural (1984, menacing Robert Redford); just about everyone else, including Peter Billingsley as the air-rifle-obsessed Ralphie Parker, is an unknown or barely-known. The director, Bob Clark, was best known for his raunchy R-rated comedy Porky’s (1981).

So how did it become more of a holiday favorite, according to the AP poll, than Miracle on 34th Street, A Christmas CarolWhite Christmas and Elf? Part of the answer comes courtesy of American media baron Ted Turner. When he bought MGM, the studio that made the movie, in 1985, he held on to the broadcast rights of its massive film library even after he sold the company a year later. He started airing A Christmas Story on the various cable channels he owned in 1991 and increased its showings as ratings grew. As more people saw it, it became a cult classic and now, indeed, a popular classic.

But why? Around these parts, as Red Ryder might say, we’d like to think it’s because the movie offers three key lessons about how to move past crucibles and live a life of significance.

Lesson 1: Don’t let others’ opinions deter you from your vision.

Ralphie’s vision is to cradle that glorious Carbine Action 200-shot Range Model, which he refers to as The Holy Grail of Christmas Gifts. He daydreams about protecting his family from the nefarious Black Bart and his gang, imagining how he heroically defends their Chestnut Street home in the fictional suburban burg of Hohman, Ind., when it comes under siege. So off-the-charts passionate is Ralphie about the toy gun he spends weeks planting verbal and physical hints for his mom and dad (whom, in the flashback voice-overs, he refers to only as The Old Man). He seizes the opportunity to write a theme in English class at Warren G. Harding Elementary School, waxing poetic about the toy of his dreams.

And then the crucible hits. Hard and often. First his mom, then his teacher, Miss Shields, then even the Santa at Higby’s Department Store, try to dissuade him from his vision. “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid,” they all say – bemoaned by Ralphie as the “classic BB-gun block.” On Christmas Day, he not only has to put on the pink bunny outfit his Aunt Clara made for him, but he also goes through every wrapped present with his younger brother, Randy, and nothing with a barrel and a trigger is revealed. He has just about settled into accepting that he is surrounded by happier kids who are getting what they want for Christmas when The Old Man tells him there’s one more present he’s hidden. Ralphie excitedly retrieves it, tears away its paper and his vision for the air rifle becomes reality.

His actions are a lesson we’d all do well to heed in pursuit of our own visions. We will encounter naysayers. Things may look bleak from time to time – as bleak as Santa bopping him with his foot down the post-sit-on-his-lap slide, telling the boy he’ll be getting a football. But Ralphie, despite wavering a time or two in his despondency, musters the resilience to not give up hope. We maintain the opportunity to be rewarded similarly when we stick to our figurative guns when our vision comes under figurative fire.

Lesson 2: Don’t put your identity in things.

The Old Man is a bit of a puzzle savant. Or at least he fancies himself one. He’s always entering newspaper contests tied to some game, shots he takes, he tells his wife, because he has “mind power.” Then it happens. He is alerted that he has won “a major award” – and as he imagines what it could be (even speculating it might be a bowling alley, undeterred by his wife pointing out that would be a little hard for the newspaper to mail). He winds up not just excited … but a little too excited. When the crate arrives, he speculates before opening it that it must be Italian because it is labeled FRAGILE – “fra-GEE-lay,” he pronounces it. When he does open it, he is instantly smitten – by a fishnet-stocking-clad plastic leg lamp.

He moons over it, calling it “indescribably beautiful” and arranging to put it smack in the middle of the Parker family home’s big bay window. He goes outside to admire its seedy glow from the street, where he prances like a peacock as his neighbors gaze at it and he repeats the phrase “a major award” a few more times when asked to explain what it is. It’s clear The Old Man has wrapped up a big chunk of his identity in that racy chunk of plastic – before it falls and breaks while his wife is dusting. He is beside himself with grief, angry at the mother of his children to the point of accusing her of never liking it (insinuating she might have destroyed it on purpose) and being jealous – whether of the light or the fact that he won it with his mind power is never made clear.

It is only when the gravitational pull of Christmas Day and its family festivities sets in that The Old Man allows himself to reestablish his identity once again in the life he has created with his wife and family, not in the things he has accumulated for himself. We’d all be wise to remember a life of significance is never found in a gaudy leg lamp – or in anything not rooted in serving others’ best interests before our own selfish ones.

Lesson 3: Find the humor in setbacks.

The family Christmas dinner is ruined by the dogs of the Bumpusses, their “hillbilly neighbors,” as older Ralphie calls them in voiceover. The hounds — 785 of them that smell really bad, according to Ralphie – storm through the family’s back door, knocking over furniture, including the kitchen table, and devour the Christmas turkey and all its fixings and desserts. The Old Man is initially apoplectic, his wife reduced to tears. But they quickly hatch a plan to bundle up and head out to dinner. All that’s open on Christmas Day in Hohman is the Chop Suey Palace, a hole-in-the-wall Asian food restaurant. The waiters sing the Parkers Christmas carols – badly – and serve them a duck with its head still attached. Do The Old Man, his wife, Ralphie and Randy hang their heads and mourn the loss of a festive evening during The Most Wonderful Time of the Year? Hardly. They laugh when the owner hacks the goose’s neck in two to remove the head and let the Yuletide wash over them, not wash out to sea. The movie’s final scene shows The Old Man and his wife sitting in their darkened house, the kids gone to bed, snuggling together as they watch the snow fall on Christmas night. As Silent Night plays over the soundtrack, it’s clear the Parkers are enjoying a significant night in their life of significance.

You’ll have 12 opportunities to see A Christmas Story during its 24-hour TV marathon this year. Whether you watch it once all the way through or keep dropping in throughout the day and night to catch your favorite bits, you won’t shoot your eye out. You’ll fill both of your eyes with insights into how to weather and overcome life’s crucibles during Christmas – and the other 364 days of the year.


Reflection


You are more than your failures and setbacks.

We share inspirational stories and transformational tools from leaders who have moved beyond life’s most difficult moments to create lives of significance.

Listen to our Beyond the Crucible Podcast here.

Earlier this month we wrapped up our special 10-part summer series, CRUCIBLE HACKS. Over its nine episodes we offered listeners “hacks” to help them identify the building blocks of their lives of significance. Then, in the tenth and final episode, we helped them get the most out of the hacks we discussed so they could get themselves on, and keep themselves on, the path to their own unique life of significance.

We offered up three tips — a trio of best practices, really — that will help those who joined us for the whole series leverage the information they gleaned to make it all happen, as Warwick likes to say. Even if you haven’t yet listened to each episode in the series, these actions can be a great help to you as you press ahead toward putting the vision you’ve crafted for your life into a reality that can make that life one lived on purpose, dedicated to serving others.

So, give these three tips a try:

1. Write your mission statement or purpose paragraph. 

Take everything you’ve learned about yourself, how you’re wired, what you’re passionate about, what you’re good at, and craft a statement that will propel you forward as you live your life. It’s similar to what companies do all the time — declare what they stand for, what they believe in, and how they serve their customer. This is the same kind of thing.

Here’s mine, to give you a little guidance as to the format of how your unique mission statement might look:

“I am a disciple of Christ who learns from and leans into Him as a husband, stepfather, communicator, mentor, and friend, unearthing innovative ways to help those I love and serve find and unleash their unique voices to impact individuals and the culture.”

Remember, the goal here is to get it down on paper — whether actual or virtual. Identify the sum total of not only what drives you and will make the world a better place, but position it as a declarative statement of what you are about at your core and how, using that knowledge, you see yourself putting it into action for the betterment of others. Keep it near your working area so you can refer to it whenever you need a shot of inspiration to help you stay the course as you pursue your life of significance.

2. Tune up your mindset. 

Crucibles are not usually a one-and-done experience for us. Roadblocks, setbacks, failures can hit us at any time — it’s one of life’s immutable laws. One way to be able to ride out those storms is to focus on our mindsets. And one of the most effective ways to do this, as we’re taking that next right step in making our vision a reality, is to shed the worry about what might go wrong and instead flip the script to ponder this important question: “What would it look like if things went right?”

Fear is the great upsetter of apple carts as we pursue our unique lives of significance. We have to train our minds and hearts to ask this more positive “what if?” question, because it has the power to propel us forward, not worry us into looking backward. A 2020 study published in the National Library of Medicine found that our worries about worst-case scenarios don’t come to pass 91.9 percent of the time. Translation: What makes you uneasy about the unknown doesn’t come to pass more than 9 times out of 10. Internalize that truth and rewire your mindset.

3. You have more than one shot at making your vision a reality. 

There’s a word we’ve used often on the Beyond the Crucible podcast — we even did an entire series on this trait a while ago — resilience. It’s the secret sauce that keeps roadblocks from becoming permanent. We have an entire worksheet from our Discover Your Second-Act Significance e-course with six great questions that will help you build up your resilience as you pursue your life of significance.

Combined with what you learned about yourself throughout THE CRUCIBLE HACKS series, these questions can help inoculate you against abandoning the path that takes you to and keeps you pursuing your life of significance.

Here’s just one question from that worksheet to inspire you to not let your next worst day — and let’s face it, folks, life gives us more than one bad day in our lifetimes — define you. So, ponder this when it happens, marshalling all you’ve come to understand about who you uniquely are from this series on Crucible Hacks:

How do I keep going if the initial steps of my vision don’t work out?

The best answer to that question is another thing Warwick says quite a bit: take the next right step. You don’t have to score a 99-yard touchdown every time you grab the ball and set out on the field where your life of significance is the endzone. You can, like great football teams do, just focus on continuing to move the ball forward. Positive gains toward your life of significance will add up, getting you to the goal line in due time.

And, just like in football, if you lose a few yards on any given play, it doesn’t mean your drive is over. Simply summon the resilience to keep gaining positive yardage. Before you know it, you’ll be scoring a touchdown.


Reflection:


Listen to our Beyond the Crucible Podcast Series: CRUCIBLE HACKS! All episodes in our special series are out. Listen to each CRUCIBLE HACKS episode and play along with our bonus worksheet to win a signed copy of the bestselling book, Crucible Leadership, Embrace Your Trials To Lead A Life Of Significance.*

Back in the day, as the Beyond the Crucible brand was being developed in its earlier form of Crucible Leadership, we had a team member question whether she had ever experienced one of those setbacks and/or failures that Warwick had dubbed “crucible moments.” After some discussion and reflection, she changed her mind. She realized that there were in fact moments in her personal and/or professional life that had “changed the trajectory of her life.” She had never noticed before the impact those crucible moments had made on her journey.

As the message spread — through Warwick’s book Beyond the Crucible: Embrace Your Trials to Lead a Life of Significance, speeches he’s given and interviews he’s done, the more than 100 guests from all walks of life who’ve told their own stories on our podcast — we’ve crafted a perspective that crucible experiences are common occurrences. We have even commissioned a statistically valid study that tells us that 72 percent of more than 11,000 people surveyed so far say they have “experienced an event so traumatic or painful that it fundamentally altered the course” of their lives.

Those are big numbers. Meaningful numbers. But not unanimous numbers. They raise the very real possibility that at least a few of you reading these words might be among that 28 percent who would answer “no” to the survey question mentioned above. Which makes me think, in our mission to share with those who engage with us that their worst day doesn’t have to define them, how can you know if you’ve had a crucible? Three thoughts come to mind:

1. Focus on the pain. 

One thing all crucibles have in common, no matter how different their circumstances may be, is that they hurt. Searingly so in many cases, but not always. And while all crucibles involve pain, it’s a stretch to believe all pain represents a crucible. How do you know the difference? Focus on those words from the survey — “changed the trajectory of your life.” As Warwick has put it, “Who you were before the crucible is not who you are after.” And many times, those changes amid the pain can have positive developments — blessings, even. You’ve developed resilience, come to a deeper understanding of how you are designed.  You’ve discovered what you love to do, and maybe what you definitely don’t love to do. Reflect on all of that, tracing back any ways you’ve been reshaped by your pain — even if you still find it hard to break free of it. If who you are now is different from who you were then, chances are good you’ve had a crucible.

2. Are you feeling motivated to live life with a different focus? 

Living a life of significance is the north star of the counsel and stories we share at Beyond the Crucible. Crucibles have a way of not just causing us pain — but giving us fresh perspective. Most of our podcast guests have discovered as they moved beyond their crucible that they felt the tug to live life more intentionally, focused on something they are off-the-charts passionate about and which in real ways involves serving and inspiring others. If you’re experiencing a nagging sense of malaise about the direction your life is headed, in some cases has been headed for decades, it’s a good bet those emotions can be traced to a crucible. Even what we call a “quiet crucible.” It may not be rooted in searing pain, but a feeling of “there’s got to be more to my life.” If you find yourself wondering “Is this all this is?” the root of that question is quite likely a crucible.

3. Keep your radar up. 

One of the indisputable things about crucibles is that they can come at any time, and they can come again. They can be triggered by any tragedy or trauma. We think of many of the stories and insights from them that we share here as inoculations that can help you weather the next crucible you encounter, helping your bounce back with more focus and fortitude, even if you have a hard time identifying the last one you encountered.


Reflection:


Listen to our Beyond the Crucible Podcast Series: Crucible Hacks! Tune in each week and play along with our bonus worksheet to win a signed copy of the bestselling book, Crucible Leadership, Embrace Your Trials To Lead A Life Of Significance.*

We are in the midst of our special summer podcast series, Crucible Hacks, in which we’re taking nine weeks to unpack ways to make bouncing back from a crucible simpler (there’s a 10th episode that’s not about hacks but about giving you insight into how to apply the hacks). We’re spotlighting the best practices listeners can undertake at each step of the journey from tragedy to triumph, guiding them along the path of what we call the Beyond the Crucible Refining Process.

The hacks we’re talking about aren’t quick fixes, but rather ideas and inspiration to help them move from “This happened TO me” to “This happened FOR me” In the end, our hope is to give them a roadmap drawn with 19 hacks that will help them chart their unique course to a life of significance.

Already, Warwick and I have discovered something pretty interesting in recording the shows. As we do for every episode of Beyond the Crucible, we prepare by sketching out broadly the ground we want to cover. But we’re discovering once we hit “record” that fresh ideas bubble up. That’s an immense encouragement to us because even though we’re the guys offering the hacks, we’re learning and sharing new things. It’s always a good sign when the people who are hoping to teach you something learn something themselves.

Case in point: our discussion about hacks to help listeners understand how they were refined by their crucible.

The first one was called “Face the Demons.” 

It focused on exhorting listeners to think about and write down the worst thing about their crucible. What hurt most? Knocked them down or set them back most? In what ways did it hurt them?

Most importantly, we asked, “How can you reframe the experience?” If it was the loss of a job, what new opportunities has it opened up? If it’s a terrible tragedy like the death of a loved one, dig deeply into the ways in which that individual blessed your life. As we were discussing these points, another thought came to us: Facing the demons is only half the battle. Here’s what I said on the show:

“I just realized maybe a better way to frame this hack is ‘face the demons and make them angels.’ Face these terrible things that happened, these things that really knocked you for a loop, but put a different face on them. Take the horns off and put the wings on.”

That wasn’t just me monologuing. It was a summation of what we’ve learned from the vast majority of the 100-plus guests we’ve had on the show – Warwick included. Crucibles, we’ve heard time and time again, provide the seeds for people being able to say their crucible was a gift. It’s what they learn in this refinement stage, what they glean from the demons they’ve made angels, that helps them get to that place where tragedy takes a big step toward triumph.

Our second hack in the “Refined” episode was what I dubbed The 3×5 Card. 

It was an attempt at being clever, not referring to the size of the card, per se, but what we urged listeners to write on it. As I envisioned it, we wanted them to jot down 3 to 5 things they learned about themselves from their crucible experience. To write a short letter expressing thanks for those lessons. And, maybe the most important part, not to keep it to themselves. That’s because, time has taught us, overcoming crucibles is a team sport; so we encouraged them to share their learnings with their spouse, a close friend, a mentor, anyone they trust who knows them well and has an interest in seeing them move beyond their worst day

Warwick liked that idea, but he had an even better one. Here’s what he said during the show:

“Once you write down those learnings, consider flipping that 3×5 card over and writing down a few blessings — three to five blessings — that have come out of your crucible. That might seem like an obnoxious question, but I’d say pretty much every guest we’ve had could do this exercise. They could write down three to five learnings, and they could write down three to five blessings.

“And this isn’t just, ‘I’m going through an exercise,’ ” he added. “They profoundly believe in those blessings.”

What we realized, after laying out that second hack, was that such reflection can be transformational. The card that results can be something kept on their desk that they refer to to remind themselves of what they learned,  where they’re going and why they feel blessed by what started out as only painful. Instant encouragement and insight. Balm for their spirit and soul.

As this blog is published, we are not yet halfway through our Crucible Hacks series. If you haven’t yet checked it out, we encourage you to visit beyondthecrucible.com and give it a listen. Each episode is about 30 minutes — an intentionally breezier listen than our traditional interview shows, a nod to the busyness of summer that grips us all.

We hope you enjoy what you hear and, more importantly, are inspired and equipped by it.


Reflection:


Listen to our Beyond the Crucible Podcast Series: Crucible Hacks! Tune in each week and play along with our bonus worksheet to win a signed copy of the bestselling book, Crucible Leadership, Embrace Your Trials To Lead A Life Of Significance.*