In Vietnam, the sound of helicopters meant two things: help was on the way, or someone was leaving. It was the sound of both relief and loss. That sound still echoes inside me when I hear someone talk about waiting for rescue, emotionally, not physically.   Years later, as a counselor, I’ve heard that same tremor in the voices of veterans sitting across from me. Their war is no longer fought on the battlefield, but in memories, nightmares, and emotions that ambush them when l

Later in life, I learned that true strength isn’t about domination, it’s about discipline. Self-control is the most effective and efficient way to gain control in any situation.   In leadership, I’ve seen gifted people lose influence because they couldn’t manage frustration. I’ve also seen quiet, steady leaders gain deep respect simply by staying grounded when everyone else lost their cool. That’s when I began practicing what I call power under control, the ability to respond

Years ago, my mentor George told me, “Jerry, leaders don’t have to have the loudest voice; they need the calmest presence.”   At that time, I was quick to react when things went wrong. A missed deadline, a sharp word, or a broken promise could ignite my emotions. Then I learned one of the most powerful tools of emotional intelligence: to respond, not to react.   Taking the time to think about a response does not show weakness; it’s wisdom. It’s the space between stimulus and

I remember a day when everything seemed to go wrong: a client complaint, a team misunderstanding, and a family issue all hit at once. My emotions felt like a thunderstorm with no shelter in sight. I wanted to lash out and shut down. Then I remembered something I often tell my clients:   “You can’t stop the storm, but you can choose where you stand in it.”   That’s where self-regulation begins, the ability to guide my emotions instead of being ruled by them. I went for a short

In the Marines, I learned to give orders. In corporate leadership, I had to unlearn that habit. Early in my management career, I believed authority earned respect. Instead, it created distance. My team complied, but they didn’t connect. I was operating from my ego and pride rather than seeking what was best for the team.   One day, a junior engineer said, “You’re one of the smartest guys here, but we don’t always feel heard.” That hit me hard. I realized that leadership witho

I used to think leadership meant having the right answers. Then one of my team members said, “Jerry, you don’t listen, you don’t wait to respond.”  That stung. But it was true.   That day, I discovered that self-awareness is a mirror that talks back. It doesn’t just reflect my face; it reflects my impact. When I finally listened to that feedback, I saw how my defensiveness shut people down. I wasn’t leading with clarity; I was protecting my ego. That realization changed every

Years ago, I was talking to a couple. The wife asked, “Why do you walk out when we argue?”   He told her, “Because I don’t want to make it worse.”   She replied softly, “But when you just walk away, it does make it worse.”   That one sentence stopped him in his tracks. He thought he was keeping the peace, but he was really avoiding discomfort. Self-awareness revealed that his perceived calmness was actually control in disguise.   After discussing ways to look at himself with