This past January I was waiting in a Manhattan lobby for a meeting to start when my wife called and told me she’d been diagnosed with ovarian cancer.

The facts that followed were terrifying: My wife had two avocado sized tumors on her ovaries. Ovarian cancer spreads easily and has a bad survival rate. She would need to stop working. She would need surgery and chemotherapy. 

My big brother Jake, who is an obstetrician/ gynecologist, told me that no matter what happened we would be ok. Which is his very loving, big brother way of saying that this was very serious and my wife might die. Later that evening we sat down with our kids aged 14 and 16 and told them what my brother told me: whatever happened we would be ok. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. 

A few weeks later my wife had surgery. The cancer, miraculously, did not spread. This past Monday she completed her fourth round of chemotherapy. She is on track to make a full recovery. She has no hair. And she is a powerhouse of strength, resilience, love, and optimism. The picture below is Pauline wearing her ‘Debbie’ wig, named after Debbie Harry. She is training for this November’s New York City Marathon. It will be her third. This past Sunday she ran 9 miles. 

Many Punks & Pinstripes subscribers have asked what’s going on with the newsletter. The truth is that I’ve been unable to write it. Life has kicked my ass. I’ve found it impossible to care about AI, or whatever business topic is trending. 

I’ve never been someone who lives a double life. I’m the same person at home, at work, and on stage. Every big breakthrough in my life started with radical candor about what’s broken and hard. So, here’s the entire naked truth about one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through. I hope it reaches someone who is pushing through similar adversity and makes it easier. I hope it creates a breakthrough.

And, thanks to everyone who has been patient with me during my absence. It’s good to be back.

Phase 1. The Power Surge

Death is God’s way of sorting all your priorities for you.

The first two days of my wife’s diagnosis were an immediate shock that my wife could die followed by an eerie level of focus and calm. I slept welI. I did not wake up each day feeling miserable. Not when she went in for her surgery. Not when the doctor confirmed that the images in her sonogram were cancer. I was calm and focused on what had to be done next — for her, my kids, and for my business. The outpouring of love from our friends, family, from Pauline’s colleagues at Franklin Covey, and from the members of Punks & Pinstripes, was awe-inspiring and beautiful. The news after my wife’s surgery enhanced my sense of calm and gratitude: the cancer was stage 1, and did not spread. 

I know it may sound crazy that I was calm and focused and not a complete mess. But that’s the truth of how I felt…. At first.  

Phase 2. The Storm After The Calm

Once my wife’s doctors were confident she would make a complete recovery. When chemotherapy didn’t destroy her. Once she started running again. Once I saw that my kids were okay. All the despair, darkness, anger, and heaviness set in. For the past month it’s been hard to get out of bed. Simple jobs that I’ve done a million times carry this huge weight. I’ve been totally disgusted with the quality of my own work. I’ve broken all my previous records for beating the shit out of myself. I’ve approached work with this distorted expectation that doing well will erase whatever pain I feel. It’s been horrible.

It’s only now just starting to lift.  

Phase 3. If you’re broken, don’t fix it.

Last week I delivered a keynote in Miami and had the morning to myself before the conference started. I rented a bike and rode it ten miles to Key Biscayne, where there’s a beautiful, isolated state park on the ocean. The sound of the waves reminded me of the beach where I grew up in Rockaway, NYC. It made me feel small. It felt really good to know that the ocean will be here longer than we will.

“It’s ok to feel like shit sometimes.” I wrote in my journal. It felt good to just sit and let the weight of it all settle in. It felt good to stop trying to frantically snap out of my feelings. I felt a different kind of strength than the strength I felt in response to my wife’s diagnosis. It wasn’t adrenaline-induced speed but the calm acceptance of knowing that you can go through hard things and be ok. Self love is a good way to describe it. Listening to the waves made me love myself and feel ok.

Every great breakthrough in my life was preceded by some moment like the morning on the ocean in Miami when I felt calm and love in the face of fear and despair. I think most people’s success works like that: it’s a product of tenacity and self love in the face of adversity. But it’s often misdiagnosed as some miracle technology like AI, or some mastermind with a genius strategy. This mythology is both false and dangerous. It’s false because there is no such thing as a technological or strategic miracle drug. And it’s dangerous because it perpetuates this dangerous mythology that successful people don’t get knocked on their ass when their spouse gets cancer.

No one should feel like they need to hide the internal adversity that makes life and work hard sometimes. Your scars are your superpower. I think that’s what this experience has taught me.

That, and I love my wife Pauline. I’m so happy she’s alive. 

One last thing: Big life-events, especially sickness and death, make us question whether we’re fulfilling our life’s purpose. Life is really short, are we making the most of it? One of the most incredible feelings as the fog starts to lift is that I don’t want to change anything. I’m living the life I was meant to live with the people I’m meant to live it with. This is especially true with my company Punks & Pinstripes. I decided to share with the members of Punks & Pinstripes that my wife was sick as soon as I knew. They have held me, supported me, and sustained me in ways that I never imagined could be possible. Huge love to them all. And, if you want what we have the application window to join Punks & Pinstripes - NYC is open for ten more days. Apply here