SPARK Insights by Coach Reg — Issue #0029

Last week, I observed a young athlete I might soon coach — and what I saw stirred something in me I didn’t expect.

She was laser-focused, competitive, and commanding attention with every movement.

Halfway through, the smallest crack formed — a missed shot, then another. Her body language shifted. Focus fragmented. No tantrum, no meltdown. Just a subtle emotional derailment — visible only if you've been there yourself.

And I have.

When the Mirror Shows Up in Disguise

Three days later, I found myself on the golf course. And golf, for me, isn’t just a game — it’s a mirror. A sacred arena where the truth I try to manage shows up uninvited.

That day, it showed up loud and clear.

I shot a 107.

It wasn’t about the number. It was the emotional unraveling underneath it — the frustration, the club slams, the growing sense of helplessness. My wife, Arlene, sat beside me in the cart, doing her best to keep me grounded — gently reminding me to breathe, to stay loose, to let it go. But I was gone.

I walked off the course feeling not just frustrated, but exposed.

And at the time, I didn’t connect the dots.
Not to the athlete.
Not to anything deeper.

I just knew something bigger was surfacing — and I wasn’t ready to look at it yet.

The Morning the Mirror Landed

It didn’t keep me up, but it lingered — that subtle unrest. I felt it as I drifted off Sunday night, and again when I woke up Monday morning.

So I went for a walk.

And as I walked, the dots started to connect:

• The young athlete’s emotional pause on Thursday.

• My own unraveling on Sunday.

• And now, the talk I was scheduled to give — just an hour away — to a group of entrepreneurs in Perry Marshall’s community… on the topic of mirrors.

A topic I had planned days before any of this happened.

And I chuckled. I had planned to talk about awareness and self-reflection — and now here I was, standing inside the very metaphor I was about to teach.

What were the odds? What was this moment trying to show me?

I didn’t force a conclusion.
But I couldn’t ignore the alignment.

The timing felt precise.
Too close to dismiss.
Too clear to explain.

And somehow, that presence — that awareness — allowed me to step into that talk not as a teacher above the lesson, but as someone standing right in it.

When You Can’t See the Cilantro

My talk was titled, "You’ve Got Cilantro on Your Tooth" — a metaphor I’ve used to explore the power of awareness.

Here’s the story I shared…

You’re rushing through a packed day. You scarf down two tacos for lunch, then head straight into a series of meetings. All smiles. All connection.

And then — hours later — you pass a mirror.
Boom. A big piece of cilantro on your front tooth.

Instant shame.

You think, How long has that been there? Why didn’t anyone say something?

In hindsight, what did you most need?
Awareness.

What Cilantro Looks Like in Real Life

Let’s bring the metaphor closer to home.

You’re talking with a friend about some business challenges — maybe client drop-off, low conversions, or tension you can’t quite name.

You vent for a few minutes. Then your friend says:

That’s cilantro.

Not spinach-in-your-teeth cilantro — but something far deeper.

A pattern.
A phrase.
A subconscious story that’s quietly shaping how you interpret moments, how you respond, and how you define yourself.

That friend didn’t offer advice.
They didn’t try to fix it.

They simply held up a mirror.

And suddenly, you could see what had been hiding in plain sight all along.

I Needed the Mirror Too

That 107 was my cilantro.

Not because I played poorly — but because I assigned meaning to it.

A deep, subconscious script came online: “Who am I if I shoot a 107?”

I could be — should be — better. I’ve played for years. I’ve invested time. I’ve built an identity around being steady, capable, grounded. So when I couldn’t perform, it stirred a hidden fear: What does this say about me? What will others think?

And that’s the part I had to see.

We don’t spiral because of the thing on the surface. Not the number on the scorecard. Not the cilantro on the tooth. Not the moment itself.

We spiral because it touches something underneath — fear, shame, unworthiness.

Something identity-level.

That young athlete I observed? I don’t know yet what her spiral was rooted in. But I know what mine was. And it’s that recognition — not expertise — that prepares me to sit beside her, if and when the time comes.

Because I’m not theorizing. I’m remembering.

And when Arlene looked at me and said, “You weren’t mad at golf. You were mad at yourself,” she wasn’t giving me a fix.

She was holding up a mirror.

SPARK Insight Prompt

Spend a few moments today with these questions:

• What patterns or reactions in your life might actually be protecting you from a deeper fear?

• When something throws you off — a mistake, a bad score, an awkward moment — what story does it activate about who you are?

• Who do you trust enough to hold up a mirror when you can’t see yourself clearly?

Until next time, keep looking for the mirror. You never know what you will see.

– Coach Reg