In this personal, motivational monologue the speaker recounts a dramatic low point in his career and life. Five years ago he went from closing million‑dollar deals with a car company to chasing a $500‑per‑month retainer while driving his hungry children to a meeting, dealing with a son who pooped his pants, and being ignored by the client. The experience forced his ego to “die,” revealing that his identity as a high‑earning salesman was gone and leaving him to see himself simply as a father and entrepreneur. Accepting this new reality, he describes how the ego death became a catalyst for a fresh start, lower‑goal setting, and eventual growth, culminating in an upcoming speaking engagement at MIT. The talk’s purpose is to illustrate how embracing vulnerability, redefining identity, and resetting goals can turn a rock‑bottom moment into a turning point for personal and professional renewal.
Chapters
The day your ego dies is the day everything could change. Let me explain. 5 years ago, as you may know, I hit rock bottom. One day I'm doing million-dollar deals with a car company. The next day I'm driving out to Riverside, California, hour and a half drive for a $500 monthly retainer. I got both kids in the backseat. My credit cards are maxed out. I haven't fed them. I don't have money for somebody to watch the kids, so they got to come with me. It's summertime. They're in the backseat. Dad, can we eat? Can we stop for water? No, I got a meeting and I'm running late. I get to the meeting. As I pull up, my son starts crying. I'm like, what's the matter, buddy? And he's just a little guy. And he says, I think I pooped my pants. Every parent knows, maybe, maybe not. I reach back, hold on a second. And there it is. You sure did, buddy. I'm like thinking, my gosh, this is, it couldn't get any worse. I get into the bathroom at the office park where we're at. We get to the bathroom, I'm cleaning it up and people are coming to the bathroom. I got my daughter over here. I got my son, I'm cleaning him up. And meanwhile, my clients texted me saying, hey, where are you? I get my son clean up, I get into the office, I tell them, listen, kids, just chill out. I gotta go to this meeting. Everything's gonna be fine. I'm gonna feed you. Everything's gonna be good. I open my laptop out. I'm presenting to this guy, $500 a month retainer. Month 1, I'm giving him the results. Whole time I'm sharing the results, what we're doing, where we're going, the different innovations. I mean, this was great stuff we were pitching him and we were doing for him. And also we're doing all this extra stuff. I'm doing all this extra stuff for him. I'm gonna make this thing a home run. I get to the end of the presentation. He's been going through his phone the entire time, not paying any attention to anything. I'm trying to get his attention. I can just feel my soul dying as I'm presenting this. At the end, he looks up from his phone. He hasn't heard a word I said. He goes, listen, you know, I do want you to know, I think we got to probably triple bid this thing because I'm thinking about Google, thinking about Facebook. Another guy messaged me today. He could do it for like $250 a month. And I think we'd have to triple bid this. I closed my laptop down. I went back in the car and I knew that I'd hit rock bottom. Here I am going overboard for a $500 a month account. My son had pooped his pants. My kids were hungry. But then I started to laugh. I looked at my kids and I said, boy, I love you guys so much. And I knew in my heart I'd hit rock bottom. But that day my ego basically died. Who I was, clearly I wasn't that guy anymore doing that. But what I found out was I was still a father. I was still in the game, but I saw myself more clearly. And that was the birth of a new day. It was accepting who I was and where I was in the situation. And then I could start to make it better. The delusion was off. The old me had died. The new me was there and I was building again. So if you are going through a big change, if you are going through a big revolution in your life, I will share this little nugget. The day your ego dies, Everything could change. A new identity can be born. You accept where you are. You get excited about where you are. You start looking fresh at new opportunities. And if your son poops your pants, his pants, or you can't pay for your car bill, that's okay. Accept where you are. Start again. Set some goals, maybe lower your goals and start building. And you could build again. Tomorrow, Sunday, I'm off to Boston to speak to MIT. The day my identity died, and I started fresh was the day that changed my life. Love you guys. Hope you have a great day.
