One of my genuine thrills in life is to observe and, at times, engage in the personal and professional growth of another human being.

It certainly affirms how positive life change takes place all around us. In a more subtle way, it lets me remember how our lives are all entwined, how my actions affect those around me and how the person I am today is made up of so many individuals who influenced me in days and years gone by. It also speaks to personal responsibility. It is rare when my behavior, or anyone’s, does not have an impact on others, and that impact can be a real game-changer.

This came to play yesterday when my friend and colleague, Scott Provence, shared with me a draft for his superhero blog, “I’ll Save You!” (and other lies), that will be posted next Monday. Scott helps me edit Mindful Midweek each week and, several months ago, he created his own blog. It explores lessons of behavior change through the thoughts, feelings and behavior of a stick-figure superhero, who I suspect is a stand-in for Scott himself.

I was blown away by the quality of the metaphor and message Scott offers in this piece. I know how he has struggled in finding his “voice” through this superhero character. Scott and I have had many robust discussions about what works and what doesn’t in getting worthy messages across to a wide range of readers. As Scott has consistently improved on his blog, he has developed a greater capacity to be sensitive, humble and open in his relationships at The Change Companies® as well.

Now, in my view, he makes all the people around him better equipped to contribute in their own ways. Scott is earning his own red cape and becoming part of the superhero he’s created.

Scott has given me permission to preview the first few blocks of his upcoming blog post below. If you wish to see its conclusion next week, and learn a wonderful life lesson, sign up here.

Survival of the Fittest

I became invincible when I was thirteen.
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Our family cat had just died and, not knowing what else to do, we took her to a vet.

“You don’t take dead people to a doctor,” I had pointed out from the back seat. No one responded. My mother drove five miles under the speed limit the whole way, and my little brother watched apartment buildings file past the window like soldiers.

Between my brother and me was a shoebox.
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I don’t want to spoil anything for Scott, so I’ll stop here. But if you’re like me, you will be curious to see how this car ride ends.