For anyone insane enough to get into the Guru business

A story that put me on the path to purpose, passion and profit

I was on the wrong side of puberty. Which was unfortunate because I was getting assaulted on the wrestling mat at 11 years old in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

My opponent weighed as much as I did… somehow. But he was already growing a beard at 12 and I didn’t even have peach fuzz yet on my privates.

What made this ass-kicking even worse was I had no coach in my corner. Here I was wrestling at the freestyle national tournament on my own. My dad was the coach, but he wasn’t there. My mom didn’t wake up on time that morning.

Dad dropped me off at the convention center, and went back to try to get mom.

But not in time for my match.

The whole event had been a comedy of miseries.

First, the trip was sold to me as a “vacation”.

Mind you, we’d never went on a vacation before. So my first vacation involved me cutting weight at 11, driving from Iowa to Oklahoma to wrestle in the Greco Roman nationals and then immediately after that in the Freestyle nationals.

This meant making weight twice. It involved the infamous story of me being a tenth of a pound over weight and my dad telling me to stand on my head naked… which somehow worked!?

We stayed in this flea bag hotel where we met another kid from Colorado who was competing. He was a year older and a few weight classes up. We made friends with him and has dad. It was that dad who saw me getting my ass handed to me without anyone in my corner so he stepped in.

At least I had a witness to my assault!

The theory my dad had for being here was sound.

Get used to the “big time” before it really mattered. The stakes were low, too - winning wouldn’t get you a scholarship. But in the future, when I wrestled in the highest pressured environments, I wouldn’t choke - because I already had experience on the big stage with the bright lights.

My dad had choked. He was an absolute stud of a wrestler. He terrorized everyone in his weight class and was easily the best in the state his senior year. But when it came time to prove it, the pressure got him.

I could appreciate what he was doing for me… on a theoretical level. But I was now hungry with bruises all over my body and even deeper ones on my ego.

Somehow I had scraped and clawed my way into the medal round so I was going to be an All-American.

I had one match left for 5th place against a kid name Dominguez, from Colorado. The same place as the kid we made friends with whose dad has to step in as my coach earlier in the tournament.

In fact, Dominguez and this kid had history. They used to wrestle a lot and Dominguez had won every match.

Small world.

I got in a huge argument with my dad prior to getting warmed up for the match.

I was pissed. I was hurt. I didn’t want to be there. I felt it absurd how some of these kids could weigh what I weighed but due to puberty looked twice as big and thrice as strong.

And this Dominguez kid had been strutting around the tournament hall for days with his crew, acting like he was some big time mobster.

So I went at him hard as soon as the whistled blew. I had thrown him from his feet to his back - a 5 point move. Then I gut-wrenched him for 2 more points. 7-0 in the first 20 seconds. Let’s go.

But that’s not what the scoreboard said. This stupid ref had no idea what he was doing. Somehow I was losing 4-3. Now I have two coaches in my corner (my dad and the other dad we met at the hotel) and they’re both screaming bloody murder. It’s chaotic.

I keep kicking this kid’s ass but somehow they keep giving him my points and the more I beat him, the further I get behind on the score.

It’s down to the wire now. I’m losing and there is a few seconds left. The only way I win is if I pin this kid. So I reached as deep down as I could, willed it into existence, and stuck the kid with a second on the clock.

I smirked at his corner - he had like 26 people in it, all crest fallen - then with smug satisfaction glanced in my corner at my dad and the other dad.

They were happy.

I was just glad it was over.

We left the next day to drive the 12 hours back home to Iowa.

On the way home there was a six flags theme park. My parents wanted to stop and have fun there… like a real vacation. I just wanted to go home and rest.

So we went to six flags.

The only real “vacation” part of the supposed vacation. At the end. When I didn’t care anymore.

I got the lesson. It wasn’t the one my dad intended - about being ready for the big time. The lesson to me was, you better have your heart in it… so you can love it, even when it kicks your ass.

I didn’t really have my heart in wrestling. I’m grateful for it for the character traits it helped me develop. The saying is - after wrestling, everything else is easy.

But I didn’t love it.

If I were going to devote myself to something when I got older where I’d work THIS HARD at it… I had to have my whole heart in it.

And I love what I do in business.

I love the selling - to connect someone to an idea they know is best for them but they’re scared to embrace.

I love the serving… to work through it with them, thick and thin, to do what it takes so they can get the insight they need.

The guru business really only works long term if - beyond the money - you really love to teach. Otherwise, sell blankets on Amazon or use a million other models that make way more sense than THIS.

But if you love it, there is enough money in it for you if you are excellent in it - but damn will it try your soul. Some days it will cost you your sanity.

You are as naked in public as little 11 year old Jason was standing on his head trying to make weight.

Other days you will be getting your ass kicked with no one in your corner.

You will be vulnerable to the world at large, and it won’t scale. It blurs the line of personal and private, business and friendship. You can get lost in it.

But then you see the eyes light up - you see the ah-ha’s and you feel the impact.

My dad taught high school kids and he was many kid’s favorite. I learned how to teach from watching him. He wanted me to be a wrestler because he was a wrestler. But what he showed me by how he showed up - when he was in his element… that was better than anything we went over in the wrestling room.

If you want to teach, never in history is there a better time. If youtube existed when my dad was teaching, he’d have blown up Jordan Peterson style.

The incentive to properly communicate an idea in a way that positively changes behavior is greater than ever… because if you do it right, how quickly you spread and how fast you impact is greater than ever.