PeaceWalker Blog

Today I thought I'd share a story that one of our PeaceWalker Private InnerCircle Members wrote in to me the other day.  I have to admit two things: (1) I love hearing stories from you folks out there using this PeaseWalker Approach in real time.  (2) Never a bad thing when I have one of these emails written for me! =) Either way, it's a great story that you can learn from regardless if you are a teacher or not!  The way that Rob handled this student is indicative of the PeaceWalker Conflict Management Approach.  No, this one isn't a physical encounter...  Rather, it's one that many of us have to handle all to often at work and at home.  Some great take away's here from Saint Rob! Ok... Breathe... Just Breathe... Teaching teenagers turns out to be phenomenal training for constantly honing your conflict management skills. I wanted to write to you today to tell you about a current experience and how Peacewalker training helped me stay level headed - please feel free t

I hadn't seen him at the academy in a while. He trained for several years, but had been gone about as long.  Handsome guy, middle aged, probably late thirties, maybe mid forties... Possibly older, his face looked younger than his years would lead on to.  He had the typical dad bod, you know, he hadn't let himself go totally, but, like many folks he struggled to keep those love handles at bay.  If you don't know the 'secret,' stress, career, family,  and a real life seems to be the enemy of working out and staying in shape. It's harder than when you were younger.  So, (let's call him) Hank comes in like a hurricane, hard charging at the academy, not in a delta bravo (douche bag) kinda way, just not really understanding how to train sustainably.   No matter how many times I say,  "Go slow, take it easy....Smooth. Relax a bit..." The encouragement and advice seemingly falls on deaf ears. In his head, he's moving to the beat of a much younger, more

Here's a good story that I ran across from one of the marketing guys I know his name is Michael... His sons were kicking the ball playing some crazy game they dreamed up in their creative little minds. (In my mind it's something like 'Calvinball!' =) Michael was sitting watching them. His older son, Joe yells "I Quite" and he sits down. His arms are crossed and he said "I'm not playing because Alan cheated". (Alan is the younger one) And Moichael says to Joe "coooommoon". "It's just a game". "Let's just play". "I'll be on your team". And Joe says... No, I quit! And Michael started to chant . .. D O N ' T Q U I T . . . D O N ' T Q U I T . . . D O N ' T Q U I T . . . and then a little faster. DON'T QUIT, DON'T QUIT, DON'T QUIT . . . Michael had both his hands balled up into fists. His arms outreached and he was staring Joe directly in the eye.. DON'T QUIT, DON'T QUI

  Yesterday got me to thinking about time and how little of it we have... It goes so quick, at first you can't wait to get older, you know,  when you were a kid you couldn't wait to go to school with the 'big' kids, then to be allowed to ride past the corner alone on your bike... Later, for many of us Michiganders, it was go hunting with a gun, or get your boaters permit, then your drivers license, graduate from high school, drink, get out of college, get your first 'real' job, etc.  We couldn't wait for time to go faster, so we could 'grow up.'  Later, you and I both know it becomes just the opposite!   You want time to slow down a bit. Sometimes we yearn to turn the hands of time backwards... As a matter of fact I hear people complain about both of those  'Usual Suspects'  when it comes to training self defense:  1) I wish I'd started when I was younger...   2) I just don't have enough time to train... It's True... Time is a fac

I was out early this morning for my usual jog. It was chilly with a few fleeting flakes of snow blowing around. I took my usual winter route that takes me though Greenwood Cemetery on the Northwest side of Grand Rapids. It's an old cemetery that I have been coming to since I was a kid. There's a creepy old 19th century caretakers house up on the hill. It serves as an office now, but every morning I pass by it, I imagine how the caretaker used to live there in decades past. Today, when I slowly jogged past that old brick house and rounded the hill, I saw the yellow trucks and back hoe digging a new grave. The workers were still there working the equipment trenching the ground.  This isn't that unusual, it's a cemetery after all. So, as I passed by, I briefly acknowledged things and went on with my run, not thinking much more of it.  Last Sunday... I got a text from an old friend of mine letting me know that his uncle, that I knew quite well, had died. I've know my fr

Most of the clutter in my apartment comes in the form or papers, notes, books and magazines... Notes from all of the ideas I have. Plans, outlines, blueprints, you name it. I write it all down, it's how I put order to things in my head.  It's how I remember... Or should I say, that it's how I don't forget. When I let things go for a time w/o tiding up, the stacks start to accumulate into stacks of notes, papers and books. When I clean I go through each stack and sort out what is still relevant and what isn't... This is one of the reasons why it takes me so long to clean... It's because I scan each piece of paper to determine if it is useful or not! I know it sounds a little like the rain man mix w/a hoarder, but the extra effort is worth it. I discard what I no longer need and keep what is still relevant and useful... Or at least that's what I try to do. Truth be told, I know there are still a lot of things I could throw out that I can't quite bring myse