The Holy Sh*t Moment: How lasting change can happen in an instant

It’s not as bad as I allude to, but it is a discipline in flux. Homo sapiens’ neurological processing unit is complex and beyond our current understanding of mathematical formulae to neatly explain.

When I first approached the life-changing epiphany as an idea for a book, I expected it would be a water-cooler “Hey, check out this interesting information” variety of tome. Like a Malcolm Gladwell book, but with swearing and the occasional mention of poop.

I never imagined it could be a “how-to.”

But the more I researched, the more realistic the idea became. I gathered studies and spoke to smart people. I tried it on myself and my clients. I wrote articles and received enlightening responses.

There are no guarantees in life, but there is often good advice based on data and experience. We may not know all regarding the complexities of the mind, but human motivation has been studied for millennia. We do understand some interesting things, and through trial and error, people have transformed their lives for the better using myriad methods for change.

It turns out, the hare can kick the tortoise’s ass when properly inspired.

Sometimes the slow-and-steady approach doesn’t take you nowhere fast, it takes you nowhere at all. Conversely, the rascally rabbit has the finish line in its sights and is dashing toward it, invigorated, undeterred, unstoppable.

Finding true meaning, uncovering your real self, revealing your life’s purpose—such things rarely happen via baby steps. These are transformations unleashed, suddenly, to great effect. Often, there is a “Holy shit!” thrown in to celebrate the momentous realization. The epiphany drives you forward, passionately pursuing the newfound aim. And great thinkers across the ages have interesting ideas about how to make such an experience happen.

Read on, and perhaps it will happen for you.

Introduction (#ulink_884ebc5d-8c6b-5761-9c6d-88803576845b)

THE LIBRARIAN WHO PUT DOWN THE CIGARETTES AND PICKED UP A SWORD (#ulink_884ebc5d-8c6b-5761-9c6d-88803576845b)

One cannot leap a chasm in two jumps.

—SIR WINSTON CHURCHILL

I saw Jaws when I was seven.

Children were free-range in the 1970s. Parents did their own weird thing that decade, so my sister and I got dumped at the local theater with regularity. It was a small town with one screen. In the summer of ’75, it was a movie about a megatoothed murder fish or nothing.

I wish I’d sat outside and watched dandelions push through the pavement. To this day, I can’t snorkel without hearing the music.

Despite living in the middle of a forest, after seeing the film I had nightmares that a great white was out to get me. A year later, the low-budget land-based knockoff, Grizzly, made my sleep even more of a horror show. My young brain could rationalize that hundreds of miles of spruce trees between me and the nearest ocean was even better than having “a bigger boat,” but what about a bear?

He could be outside my window. He might be pissed about the bear my dad stalked, shot, and skinned, now a rug lying in the living room of our house. The grizzly might be seeking revenge on the only son of the sonofabitch who slaughtered his sibling!

“MOOOOMMMMM!!!”

I came within fifteen feet of a bear while out for a run a few years back and managed to not pee myself. Statistically speaking, I’m far more likely to die on the toilet, and I love my toilet.

I love bears too. I grew out of the fear and realized what amazing creatures they are, so long as you’re not watching one rip Leonardo DiCaprio’s Oscar-winning face off. You don’t need to pack up your shit and head off to the great outdoors and have your own face-to-bear experience. I like imagining them because, as a metaphor, they represent that which is fierce and powerful. A grizzly is something with claws and teeth. When they are of a mind to do a thing, they are unstoppable. Also, like me after a long run, they don’t smell too good.

When I imagine something kicking a lot of ass, I imagine a giant bear. And so when I have a lofty goal in need of chasing, I awaken my inner grizzly.

There is a grizzly bear hibernating within you, waiting for a key to unlock it from its cage. I want to help you find that key.

You have seen such an unleashed beast manifest in others; they become inspired about achieving their dreams and are relentless in the pursuit. My dad worked outside year-round and had the Grizzly Adams beard, but Mom was the one who let the huge furry quadruped loose. After the divorce, she moved us to the city and went all Revenant on glass ceilings.

Are there ceilings in your life you wish to burst through? Let’s rattle that cage and see what we can stir from its slumber.

How you direct this powerful creature is up to you. As a health-and-fitness columnist whose work has been read by millions, and as a weight-loss coach, I first became aware of the phenomenon of sudden and dramatic life change regarding people’s desire to change their bodies. But this is not a weight-loss book.

Okay, it’s a little bit of a weight-loss book.

If you want it to be, it is. Because such accomplishments have cascade effects. Improving one’s body is challenging, and those who attain the drive to do so rarely stop there. I’ve witnessed them go on to enhance their careers, improve relationships, conquer addiction, or undertake a complete life overhaul. Once the grizzly is free, there is no telling what adventures it will take you on.

That’s enough about bears for now. Let’s talk flying reindeer.

The Gift of Sudden Inspiration

“Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional.”

My father says this often, as an explanation for his lovable goofiness. One day, I heard some motivational douche on the radio say those exact words, but as an imperative. His tone negative, the speaker proclaimed you must work to grow up, so you can be a big success or some shit. I don’t know. He was trying to suck the fun out of life. Anyway, he totally came across like “I will death murder the shit out of your inner child!” and then I was like “Yeah, go screw yourself; my dad is cool and you’re not,” and I changed the station.

That inner child. Remember when you were a kid and believed stuff?

The Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny are stupid, but Santa Claus? He kicks ass. There is a reason we let go of the Tooth Bunny earlier than the red-suited flying-reindeer wrangler: Santa is too cool to not exist.

I want to tap into your inner child, so you can believe some stuff. I want to tell you something so Christmas-Day awesome, you might have difficulty believing this present under the tree is real.

Except it’s real as puppy breath. I’m going to science this baby up with a heap of evidence to show you. I’ll share both far-out stories and studies about unlocking overarching awesomeness that takes life to a new, this-is-who-you-were-meant-to-be level.

You want big change? You want to be a badass at life? I’ll tell you something about what it means to be Evil Gluteus Maximus. Or … no. I won’t. Self-improvement is something that happens on your terms. You decide what is and is not the “Person You Were Meant to Be Registered Trademark.”

Who is this person? Start imagining now. Take a moment and reflect on life experiences; couple them with your inner child. Dream big. Realistically big, because not everyone gets to be an astronaut. But imagine what you could do if you were suddenly inspired to strive for it. If you had the passion and drive to go on an ambitious quest, what would that new life look like? Not just the body, but the whole life: career, relationships, finances, happiness, self-worth, personal identity … Take a moment; take three moments. Invest some mental energy. Think!

You’ve heard it’s about the journey and not the destination, right? Whatever. Despite what I just wrote, I’m not going to talk journeys too much in this book. Instead, we are zeroing in on the moment your passion to take that journey is unleashed.

Does this word “unleash” make you think of a process that happens slowly, step-by-step, through careful deliberation? Hell, no. It’s a big-ass rott-weiler straining to get off the chain and go fang-first into Nickelback.

It’s when suddenly life—or the universe, or whatever—sends you a powerful message for which you cannot help but proclaim, “Holy shit!” at the revelation. (Profanity optional.)

I don’t care if you believe in Santa or Satan, a golem or Gollum, an Indian elephant or Indiana Jones. Activate your imagination, and do some scientific discernment while you’re at it, because we’re about to take a voyage into explaining why you’ve been taking the approach to life change all wrong.

It may seem wishful thinking, what I’m about to tell you, but it’s not.

We’re about to unleash some shit.

Eye of the Tiger

I awoke at ass o’clock, guzzled some weapons-grade dark roast, and headed out for a six-mile run in temperatures hovering around hideous below zero.

As the sun rose, I did not lament the lack of sunglasses. They fog in under a minute at −20 degrees. Rather, my eyes were protected by a thick coating of frost collected on my lashes. Upon returning home, I snapped a selfie of my snowy visage and posted it to Facebook. The comments collectively proclaimed, “Dude, you are an entire cave full of batshit.”

My pre-epiphany self would agree.

In a previous life, I abhorred physical activity, guzzled English brown ales, and stuffed McDonald’s into my maw as though the apocalypse were imminent. Additionally, I was in debt, flunking out of college, and feeling like an unmotivated and out-of-shape bag of poo. But one day, the ground shifted beneath my feet. There was a transformative moment: a sudden strike of awakening in which my existence was split in twain; it became the instant that divided my life into “before” and “after.”

Everything changed that day. Not that day—that minute. Those few seconds.