If my past had a face, it would belong to Randy Pentis. The type of face that only a cop could have, with all its hard lines and ill humor. When I was a teenager the sight of this face meant only one thing— the certainty of unavoidable punishment. One glimpse of this man would send me and my band of hoodlums scattering down the street like billiard balls in a break. Ducking behind buildings, flying around corners. Anything to get away from the police officer that made it his personal agenda to keep me from the mistakes I was determined to make. Of course at the time, I would have said he was just harassing me.

Randy Pentis, I remember best for the grip of his hand on the back of my shirt. For dragging me up the walkway in the middle of the night to wake my mother, and explain to her why her son wore the bandana, the sneakers, the belt, and the rest of the gang attire. The man who taught me never to run from the police. Randy Pentis is the man who arrested me.

There was an amount of what I consider, inevitable introspection. The memories of these events replayed in my mind as I drove to the interview. Fifteen years later, and I found myself contacting Randy Pentis to set up a meeting. I had two intentions in mind. The first was to gather his insights for my documentary in progress Teaching Without Class. As a police officer of 27 years, Randy Pentis would have a good idea of what changes needed to happen in the educational system, to prevent children from becoming criminals. The second intention was to pay respect to the man who marked the most significant turning point in my life.

The mental recapitulation was, as I said, inevitable. What I didn’t expect was to be nervous. Surprising for someone who can stand calmly in front of a crowd of thousands. My sympathetic nervous system kicked in the second we pulled into the parking lot of the police building. More than a decade later, and I still had that kinesthetic memory of being in trouble. Constant trouble. 

It had to begin somewhere, so I guess you could say I was born into it. I was the youngest child of a single mother struggling in poverty to raise six children, some of which had already traveled the path I was rapidly shuttling down. I had two brothers and an older sister who had been in and out of the system for robbery and drug related crimes. With no guiding influence in my life strong enough to overpower the circumstances I was raised in, I fell easy prey to the media’s glorification of crime and the peer pressure of gang life.

Even for a kid who wants to get out, the possibility of escape is overshadowed by the danger of getting dragged back in, beat up or killed. Randy Pentis knew this. If he was going to help me get out of the gangs, he would have to make me his personal project. He followed me everywhere I went. He got my family involved. My mother finally asked for help, and with enough momentum and self-love, I survived.

Now I was on my way to thank him. Maybe find a way I could make his life easier, to make up for the grief I had given him. I had come full circle. Fifteen years later I found myself in the same police station where I once stood—a cocky young man with my Dickies and my shaved head, facing Randy Pentis in an interrogation room that smelled like hell.

This interview would be one of the proudest moments of my life. To hear the Captain of the Ventura Police Department, the man who once put me in handcuffs, tell me that I had become a success. The basic goodness he saw hidden inside of me as a young man, had prevailed in the end. My story could offer an example of hope to a new generation of at-risk youth.

When I thanked him for what he’d done for me, Randy would say, “Ryan, I didn’t save you. You saved yourself.” And I agreed with him. Why this man felt called to go beyond his duties to help me, I will never know. As a spiritual person, I can only be grateful for the messengers that have been sent along the way.

But before any of this, the cameras started rolling, our lighting had been given its final adjustments, and the long awaited interview had begun.

“I want to apologize for some of the heartache and the gray hairs I gave you,” I said.

Kindness broke through the hard lines of Randy Pentis’ face, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened as he laughed. This was the face of a typical cop, of a fine man, and a good father. 

I first learned of the family’s tragic murder after a Los Angeles Times news reference to their profiles on pathconnect.com hit my blackberry. The following was written in the story: On pathconnect.com, Nikita Williams listed her passion as motocross. Other interests included dance, music, the beach and the mall. She predicted that by the time she was 18 she would "have accomplished school and will have my own business." She also described a very close network of friends. "My mom and my friends are my hero," she wrote. "They are always by my side helping me through tough times and giving me [advice] on guys and life." Her sister Narissa listed Nikita, her mom and her friends as her heroes. "My life is pretty normal. I live in the wine country. I love my friends to death. School is fun to an extent," she wrote in her Web profile. "I dislike teenage drama, it gets bad at our school. But anyways, my mom is soon to be a regional director."

Naomi's (the mom) profile can be found at http://www.pathconnect.com/joy

Nakita's profile is http://www.pathconnect.com/Nikita

Narissa's profile is http://www.pathconnect.com/Narissa

In loving memory their profiles are receiving many visitors. I was both shocked and saddened that something so senseless could happen to such a young family. I was even more stunned to realize that I actually knew this family. While looking through their profile pages, I was at a loss for words when I saw Naomi’s default photo was a picture of the two of us taken at a PathConnect A-list party. While looking at Nikita’s profile I saw photos of myself on her page. Everything hit me the moment I saw the photos and read the words they wrote about the life they wanted. Everything I talk about, all the speeches on purpose, on taking a stance, on youth mentorship, on raising children in a single parent family, on the challenges the youth face today in our society, was right in front of me. When I first met Naomi, Nikita and Narissa it was after I gave a speech.

In the speech, I spoke to the group about my purpose and the power of knowing your purpose in life. After the speech Naomi came up to me and told me her story of obstacles overcome, of the challenges she has faced in life, as a single mother. With a smile from ear-to ear she said “I would like to introduce you to my purpose.” She then introduced me to two beautiful young twin girls, Nikita and Narissa. You could tell she was proud of them. Her daughters glowed as they smiled and shook my hand. They then asked me to take a picture with them. Their mother asked if I could spend some time with them in hopes I could give them advice. I remember the words I shared with them so well. I remember the look in their eyes as they listened to what I had to say, about life, the things I would do differently, the challenges that I felt they faced as youth in today's world. I remember this family so differently than many others. Naomi's purpose was close to home for me, as it was my single mother who struggled to raise me, that saved me, by making me, her cause. I respected Naomi as a single mother, clear on her purpose, passionate about her children and a fun, loving mother. I remember thinking to myself. Naomi, your purpose is my purpose. I do what I do, because of people just like you, Narissa and Nikita.

Yesterday, one week after their murder, I was speaking at an event in Fort Lauderdale, Florida before an audience of 700 people about giving back and our sister company Make The Difference Network (MTDN). I decided to focus my speech on the William’s family murder, hoping to bring awareness to this unfathomable act. I thought it was important that my audience knew the people behind this story and that their tragic death is remembered for something more than just another five person murder suicide. After explaining their story, I decided that I would pledge $2500 to the family and that my company Visalus Sciences would match every dollar raised in the room. So far we are up to $10,000. I want to thank all the PathConnect members who have helped me champion this cause and who have donated to the families of our fellow community members. These situations are far too common in today’s society. We need to stop talking about these tragedies as body counts in news stories and start taking action and talking about solutions.

In the case of Naomi, Nikita and Narissa’s story: What drives a 17-year old boy to murder his entire family? Where does the rage come from? Why the anger? What is going on in our culture that could drive a teenage boy to murder? It’s clear we need to find a way to connect and understand this rage. We need to teach the youth about values, communicate with them, give them hope and restore the value of a human life in our society. We need to restore the value of family, educate on purpose of goals and reach out to those in need and give back. WE NEED TO BECOME AGENTS OF CHANGE! This senseless tragedy has touched many of us. It’s so clear that it could have been prevented. This world needs change. It needs you to become an agent of change. Take action, make your voice heard and give back.

Leadership is about influence.  Influence is a skill, a tool and a weapon.  Use it with belief.

Before you start selling:  State 3 beliefs that you have about your prospects purchase?

Exposure X Conversion = Result   Conversion is your ability to influence a prospective buyer to become a customer.

Questions a prospect will ask before Buying Now?

1.  How will this make me look in front of my friends and family?

2.  What is the price of not doing this now?

3.  Is it worth the time, or money?

4.  Do I really need it now or can I do it tomorrow?

5.  Can you prove that it works?

6.  Is it safe to buy?

Remember to Speak in emotions:  What are the emotional reasons someone will buy today?

State your belief for the prospect.  Why do you think this is best for them?

8 Steps to a Sale:

1.  Set the stage, clear the slate, create your state.  Why are you going to the meeting?  What does this mean to you? What is your outcome?

2.  Control the situation (questions).  Congruency, he who is most congruent will influence the other

3.  Continuity.  Script, keeping yourself external.

4.  Get Commitments.  Get them to say yes 10 times during the conversation.

5.  Enthusiasm, change peoples states

6.  Sincerity, make people feel you really care

7.  Close.  Who got closed?  Did they sell you they didn’t need the product or service or did you sell them that they did.

8.  Post close wrap up.  What did you do right?  What did you do wrong?

Measure.  What was your outcome and what was your result?  What was your conversion rate?

Hope this helps all the sales people who read my blog.  Please send me questions and comments.  R 

The month of March has been our/my best single month ever. I am in awe of this year’s first quarter as well, three record months that will go down in history. Momentum is the only word that comes to mind when I try to describe our accomplishments in March.  During the 4^th quarter of last year, I made a commitment to myself that 2007 would be our best so far.  We spent much of 2006 laying a well thought out foundation that grew to be as solid as a mountain of granite. When I say foundation, I not only mean infrastructure, people, strategy and practices, but also foundations of psychology, spirituality and mentality.  Unlike in home building, in business and in life, foundations are constantly added onto, extended, improved, restructured and reinforced… so why is our foundation so strong?   

 A few words come to mind…. Strategy, Commitment, Execution and Consistency. These four words are the core of our foundation.  Our team’s focus on each, has led to the coveted momentum that we are experiencing today.   I’ve been asked time and time again, “How do you catch momentum and how do you quantify it?”  In response, I offer to the world or the 5 people who read my blog a simple formula to quantify and measure momentum. Calculate your current Strategy (S) X (C)Commitment X(E) Execution X (C)Consistency = (M) your Momentum or SxCxExC =M  Sound complicated???….  Here’s a simple way to do the math.  Rate each area described on a scale of 1 to 25 (round numbers make it easy).  If you’re honest, you won’t rate yourself as a 25 on all fronts. If you do rate yourself that high, then please send me a comment as to why you’re reading this post and not buying a small country. The goal in this assessment is to be hard on yourself! It doesn’t matter what number you assign, what matters is that you’re honest in your self-assessment.  The closer you are to 100 points (percent), the more success you’ll have. Okay, I know there’s some subjectivity here, and that’s the beauty of it!  If you’re a part of a team, have each member rate themselves and average the score (take the sum score/surveys). If you’re a solo artist then assess yourself…. And make sure to always ask yourself the following question.  What do I need to do to improve my score today?  I find that when I have unanswered questions, I eventually find the answer, usually in my sleep.  You’ll know where to start asking questions based on where your low scores are.   

Lastly, here’s my subjective input on definitions:  Strategy: This is your written plan; your game plan. I always recommend that you start with the short term and write your strategy by week, then month, quarter, year, and decade. This plan should be grounded in numbers (thank you John Tolmie).  Now that you’ve assessed your strategy, it’s time to take a hard look at your Commitment: Commitment is the most subjective of the bunch.  This should be rated by how committed you are to the strategy/game plan/subject.  Would you die for it or lose sleep for 100 months to achieve it?  The aforementioned are some anecdotal concepts of commitment, degrees of severity vary by personality type.  Some people might have to ask the question…  Would I postpone a vacation? Or quit eating chips and salsa?  For me it’s a question of “will I, or what will I sacrifice for it?”  That’s how I self measure commitment (I am admittedly very very high maintenance).  Execution is where the money is. Once you’ve got the strategy and the commitment, you need skilled experienced team members to execute (big nod to all of our team members).  Recruiting the best team members was a major focus of our Board of Directors in 2006.  To paraphrase Jim Collins in Good to Great…  “get the right people on the bus, wrong people off the bus and drive the bus toward the collective vision of the team”. Wow, can I tell you, this is an area that I’ve found religion in.  Fred, Scot, Russ, Mark and everyone else who broke your pick on me…  I finally got it!!! Hire the very best and cut like a Ginsu knife.  Which leads me to Consistency: Now, I’ll be humble with you.  This is an area of improvement for me.  Ever since my early years, teachers have always had to tell me…  “Ryan, stay focused!” sometimes with a paddle.  Partly because of my ADD and partly because of my creativity and partly because of the way this plane smells “wait get focused Ryan”  oh, yeah and partly because I get bored easy and I’m a thrill seeker.   Okay, so read it or leave it…  Those are my thoughts on momentum as I fly to Alaska, 24 hours before March is in the record books with the wind at my back and a strategy (23) a committed team (24) focused on execution (19) and being very consistent (23).  89% not bad….  But what’s it going to take to be 100?  Stay tuned…     In momentum, 

We are all dots, the people, experience, dreams and memories in our lives are all splattered dots on the canvas of life.  Some big, some small, some with color some dark.  Sometimes you chase a dot, sometimes youll find yourself being chased by one and sometimes youre sitting on a dot and you dont even know it.  Dots can look like chaos, like the stars in the sky they can either be formed into constellations or look like speckles with no rhythm or reason to be found.  Most of us bounce from one dot to the next with no end in mind. In search of reason for existence and purpose the journey of life has lead me to start connecting my dots.  In this process I have realized that my dots are now connected with sharp lines, but in the beginning of my journey there was only faith that they would one day connect to form my personal masterpiece.  A puzzle of sorts; sometimes when I look back at early formation of my dots, I draw the analogy of a maze-like experience. In a maze, without elevation you are forced to run from wall to wall bouncing from one (dot) to the next.  The goal of this writing is to elevate our thinking and to help you understand that without Faith life can look like unrelated, coincidental scattered dots, not connected, or connected with no purpose.  My belief is in order to evolve and create our personal masterpiece we must understand our dots, connect the dots of the past, and with faith, embrace those of the present so that when our personal dot burns out we will leave behind a great constellation for others observe. 

Ive found that life can be surmised by the memories (dots of the past) that we have experienced.  At the end of your day you only have the memories of the past hours, a few days later perhaps youll remember one of those memories and a few months later the days blur together as we dont have the capacity to vividly recall more than just a few.  The collection of these memories images are connected together with a touch of sound, becoming the slide show of life.  My 28 years on this earth has yielded two hundred powerful memories thus far and I have not the capacity to vividly store many more, so I will make room and release them to you, so I may create a hundred more. My first one hundred memories, starting when I was three, were that of despair.   

Brought into this world a frightened child living in fear of the unknown; my mother and father were unfit to be parents.  Both of my parents were abused children and neither of them came to the realization that they were repeating the cycle that they had despised all of their lives.  I am the youngest of six children, separated from my closest sibling by five years; therefore I was alone most often.  Some of my fist memories were as a witness to and later a victim of the same abuse that had plagued my parents childhood. At a young age I began to uniquely develop for my own survival. I would later learn that I developed a powerful gift for auditory processing.  I learned to differentiate tonality from afar, storing sounds and words into a memory bank that I would triage for survival.  In part due to having an older brother whose name tonally was the same as mine.  As the voice of my father would bear down and the anger would build, I learned to determine if the focus was me or my brother Brian before he got too close.  I also learned to set crafty traps at a young age, sacrificing my older sibling to deter my fathers punishing ambitions.  To say the least my fist hundred memories created a rare identity and a rare set of skills.  I would later learn that I was different in many ways from my peers.  My fist expression of such difference was that of rebellion.  I was a rebel, once considered the most dangerous juvenile in the county where I grew up.  Like Huck Fin, I would find myself in compelling situations.  I like him, would receive attention by way of attracting it for my negative actions.  As a result I quickly learned the power of fear and that I could stand out the most by use of it; the same sword that I was suppressed by had a double edge.  I learned that the wielding of fear was a powerful tool.  Like the great conquerors of ancient time, I would have my time as king of the suppressed; fear would be my power source.   

By the age of 16 such experiments worked and I had exactly what I wanted.  An overachiever in my chosen sport, unfortunately society requires that game be played in jail.  A chance meeting with a mentor arranged by my mother would soon free me from the identity I had created.  The man came into my life not as a threat but rather as a curiosity.  He did not have the making of most men that had been in my life.  A hint of femininity, a fruity nature, I could find nothing intimidating about him.  His intelligence was not outstanding; in fact he would tell me he thought higher of mine.  Those words were a surprise having built a contra-society identity, as he was the epitome of a successful society member.  A millionaire many times over, he had exactly what everyone wanted.  He would later rescue my mother and I to live with him in his moat surrounded castle. In a moment we went from a home infested with rats and murders occurring just a few yards away, to living on an island where I would awaken to exotic birds and fish jumping lakeside by my bedroom window. This exposure would awaken a dormant trait that was hidden within me.  

Evolutionist often sight mans use of tools and later weapons as the building block toward evolved thinking.  In the same vein, I was merely a pre-evolved man.  I was a child in the body of a man entering early adulthood.  Having sharply developed survival skills, all I needed were a few tools to take my mind off of my primal needs and free it to evolve.  And in a moment those tools were delivered to me.  My first hundred memories were now behind me and I could evolve to create the second hundred, my dormant trait of ambition came to life and a thirst for accomplishment had awoken. My evolution began with an ambitious course of study. I had to make up for lost time having only achieved a 9^th grade education; with massive ground to cover I forced myself to complete high school in less than a year and simultaneously entered college.  For two years I would learn with the innocent curiosity of an infant baby and in just two years my knowledge and intelligence would surpass my wildest expectation.  Having my hands freed to learn I would do so at a record pace.  According to anthropologist the survival of our species is linked to adaptation and I was perfectly made to adapt ditching a non-serving set of traits the second I learned they were no longer useful.  I would absorb knowledge from books and people like a tide onto the sand, I would encompass all they could offer and then pull back to my ocean.  I developed an appetite for application; my hunger fed day in and day out.  This would facilitate my second evolutionary transformation.  

As adaptable as a mouse, I learned to take form quickly.  I learned to squeeze into places not thought possible.  By the age of 23 I was shedding my cocoon, reborn a success with wings to fly.  I recall stepping out on the branch newly hatched and spreading my wings.  Becoming an entrepreneur was my fist flight.  Now I had a vehicle and an identity that would further my growth. My cocoon shed and left behind, I would fly away from the past, now considered a specimen of beauty and an inspiration, my new body was formed.  I would no longer be bound by the prior vehicle; I could now take flight toward my future.  Following my instincts and the gravitational breeze, where I would wind up I did not know.  My only tool was an attitude set to grow; my next hundred memories would read like a story tale.  Having gained notoriety for being special, for being different, for being intelligent, I would surround myself with great thinkers and great leaders to become their student.  I would fall in love with everything about them that made them unique, my gift to them was the feeling of contribution their gift to me was their experience and knowledge.  Building on my strengths and not afraid to ask for help, I persuaded a master investor to fund my cause.  As his protg this man would challenge me and give me no choice but to succeed.  With his support and the wind at my back I braved new territories, but would I succeed, would I metamorphosis onto my next evolution?  

With the disease of status anxiety, I would move forward with a relentless disposition towards persistence, with clarity of outcome and a nothing can stop me attitude. I would anchor down on my path and define my purpose.  With clarity of mind I would move forth on my master plan.   With such ambition comes collateral damage, there are high costs to such aspirations and a tricky mind field to navigate.  With the help of my mentors I always on the edge a short few steps from disaster or massive success at all times.  Having my standards set by such great mentors, I became very ambitious.  An interesting thing about ambition is the very nature of it.  Ambition is uncontrollable and when your ambition is in momentum its fees are paid in the currency of emotion.  Ambition is not so much a trait, but rather an uncontrollable driving force.  Ambition keeps you up at night, it drives you to work 18 hours a day and it takes you over.  I have often been told by friends that I should seek balance, however I counter that success is a zero sum game where for every achievement there is loss of something else.  For every home owned there is one less for someone else and therefore when one is seeking success balance and ambition are like yen and yang, bulling onto each other.  The bad news is the more infected with ambition you are the more it becomes a virus, constantly mutating in the form of new ideas, and new approaches.  With each encounter I was a host to its spread.    

In retrospect I (as a dot) have developed an interesting trait, one observed in many animal species.  If youve ever watched a liter of wolves you will find an ambitious male.  He pushes aside his siblings and forces more milk from his mother.  He edges out the competition to become the ruler of the pack.  His reward is in the form of greater experiences being gifted to travel further, to eat in abundance and live more fulfilled. This evolutionary adaptation is exactly what I found myself becoming; the alpha male.  I did not know it at the time, but my ambition was in hibernation lying dormant my whole life.  The thaw of my spring awakened me to a new perspective. I would spend the next several years experiencing memories that few have such privilege.  These memories are my dots. And this writing is designed to show how all dots are connected. 

The process of connecting our dots is designed to better equip us to have faith in the dots of our future. My goal of these writings is not to impress you, but rather to impress upon you that life is merely a summary of action took, people experienced and behavior learned.  Fall in love with this process as I have, and you to will live a life in awe. Please be with these writings and feel your connection.  Perhaps you are a dot in my masterpiece or just an observer to it.