Your Own Personal Fog

The Florida humidity descended upon us like an overeager aunt at a family reunion — unwelcome, smothering, and absolutely unavoidable. This morning, the fog rolled in with theatrical flair, a dense curtain of moisture so thick you could practically spoon it into your coffee. My patio, normally offering panoramic views of the shoreline, now revealed nothing but ghostly outlines of what might be trees or might be strangers lurking with nefarious intent — impossible to tell in this atmospheric soup. The pelicans, those prehistoric-looking buffoons of the sky, pierce through the silence with their haunting croaks, invisible sky-beasts announcing their kingdom. “I’m here! I’m here!” they seem to crow, though nobody asked. And hiding behind this temporarily enchanting meteorological performance lurks the true villain of our coastal story — the oppressive heat that’s limbering up in the wings, ready to make us all regret our real estate choices for the next five months. Time to leave.

MASTERMINDS OR MADNESS?

About 15 years ago, I found myself in one of those suspicious motivational conferences, the kind where speakers pace stages like caged panthers and use words like “paradigm” and “synergy” with alarming frequency. The concept du jour? Masterminds. Though I’d encountered this in Napoleon Hill’s work (you know, those Depression-era self-help books your grandfather swore by), I’d dismissed it as some antiquated prosperity gospel. Then speaker Lee Milteer took the stage — a woman who could probably convince penguins to buy ice — and explained how we’re all essentially bumbling around in our own mental echo chambers. She pitched her group with a price tag that made my credit card whimper in advance. Against all logical judgment, like a moth to an expensive flame, I joined.

TERRIFYING TRUTH MIRRORS

The night before my first meeting, I tossed and turned like a novelist on a deadline. I desperately needed accountability, yet feared it with the intensity of someone about to have their search history read aloud. What masochistic impulse drives us to simultaneously crave and dread honest feedback? The meeting itself was a carnival mirror of revelations — I saw my own business flaws reflected in every other “successful” person there. Turns out those polished LinkedIn profiles and confident elevator pitches were elaborate facades hiding the same broken plumbing I was dealing with. The relief was refreshing, like finding out everyone is equally insecure and flawed.

UNEXPECTED BUSINESS THERAPY

A few months later, something shifted. Parts of my business began performing like they’d been secretly training for the Olympics. The group had become my business therapy — a place where my mental blockages were not only diagnosed but treated with the combined wisdom of people who’d already made the mistakes I was currently perfecting. After milking that first mastermind cow dry, I moved on to a marketing-focused group. Different players, same game — except this time the collective brainpower tackled my marketing strategy like the bees swarming around a honeycomb.

ADDICTION TO PERSPECTIVE

I hopped from group to group like someone channel-surfing for business wisdom. Five years here, five years there — each offering a different flavor of tough love and strategic insight. And though I’m still in a group I’ve loved for the past five-plus years, I succumbed to the inevitable entrepreneurial urge to create my own thing, launching an Art Business Mastery group for artists looking to transform their passion into profit. The irony wasn’t lost on me — I’d gone from reluctant participant to the very person inflicting accountability on others. Like an ex-smoker turned anti-tobacco crusader, I became evangelical about what I once feared.

BEAUTIFUL MENTAL DEMOLITIONS

There’s something intoxicating about watching someone’s limiting beliefs crumble before your eyes — like witnessing a controlled demolition of mental architecture that no longer serves them. As a coach, I’ve developed a particular fondness for being the wrecking ball, though I dress it up in kinder terminology for marketing purposes. The “aha” moments arrive like perfectly timed plot twists in a thriller — unexpected yet somehow inevitable. I’m not telling you this to sell you anything, but rather to emphasize the transformative power of allowing someone to call your bluff. True transformation is taking place already.

FRIENDSHIP CASTING CALLS

My friendship roster resembles a carefully curated theatrical ensemble — each player cast for specific emotional and intellectual contributions. Some friends exist purely for belly laughs, while others are painting buddies, and others serve as my personal truth-tellers, unafraid to point out when I’m starring in my own self-deception. 

Do you have someone who loves you enough to tell you when you’re being an absolute idiot? If not, you’re missing the most valuable relationship currency available. Curiously, I’ll accept hard truths from near-strangers that I’d bristle at coming from my own family — a psychological pretzel I’ve yet to fully unravel. I’m trying harder to listen to wise counsel from all corners of my life.

LONE WOLF DELUSIONS

Left to our own compromised brains, we humans are spectacular at getting things wrong. Our thinking isn’t just occasionally flawed — it’s a funhouse of distortions, biases, and self-serving narratives implanted by our parents, our teachers, and those who have innocently skewed our view of the world. Yet our egos, those fragile little creatures, recoil at correction like vampires from sunlight. We desperately need outside intervention, particularly in this era where social media algorithms function as yes-men on steroids, reinforcing whatever nonsense we already believe. Your mental diet requires as much scrutiny as what you put on your plate — possibly more, since nobody develops arterial blockages from consuming too many bad ideas (though society might).

DIGITAL DETOX REVELATION

Remember that cruise where I mentioned taking a social media break? What started as a vacation necessity has morphed into a three-week abstinence that I’m carrying like a sobriety chip. When the scrolling urge strikes, I redirect my twitching thumbs toward either a book or a paintbrush — substituting creation for consumption. The results have been nothing short of revelatory. My anxiety levels have plummeted like tech stocks in a bubble burst, or at least this past week’s stock market, and internal peace has moved in where constant outrage once resided. Most fascinating of all is how the gossip and “news” that friends still share now sounds like dispatches from a particularly unimaginative dystopian novel.

CLARITY THROUGH SEPARATION

Distance has transformed me into an anthropologist of modern communication — observing with detached fascination as others breathlessly repeat claims that would make even mediocre fiction editors demand revisions. The adage about repeated lies becoming truth hits differently when you step outside the repetition chamber. We’re all swimming in a sea of manipulated information, but most never realize they’re wet. Your sanity demands that you occasionally towel off and ask, “Is this actually true, or have I simply heard it so often that questioning somehow feels wrong?”

ACCOUNTABILITY TREASURE HUNT

What structures could you implement to receive regular reality checks?

Where might you source fresh perspectives that challenge rather than comfort? 

How might you discover those reputation-damaging blind spots that everyone sees but nobody mentions? 

Aging, that much-maligned, somewhat painful process, offers at least one gift — the gradual deflation of ego that allows wisdom to sneak in through previously guarded entrances. The young person’s certainty gives way to the middle-aged person’s questions, which I find infinitely more useful.

MENTAL GATEKEEPING BENEFITS

While many of my contemporaries’ brains calcified into human documentaries of outdated thinking or pure belligerence, I find myself increasingly receptive to new ideas — savoring the awakening that comes right before growth. This openness isn’t accidental but the result of vigorous mental gatekeeping. I’ve become ruthlessly selective about what narratives I permit to reside in my brain, which paradoxically creates more space for genuine exploration. The resulting clarity reveals just how masterfully we’re all influenced by forces with vested interests in our beliefs.

ANCIENT WISDOM ENDURES

“Seek and you shall find” — four words that pack the punch of a philosophical heavyweight. This isn’t just biblical wisdom but a cognitive principle with applications far beyond the Bible. When you actively pursue diverse perspectives, you inevitably discover new terrain — mental landscapes previously obscured by the fog of familiarity. 

You need not adopt every new idea that crosses your path, but allowing them temporary shelter in your thinking expands your intellectual real estate. A great awakening, like this morning’s dense fog that transformed familiar scenes into mysterious new worlds, fresh input can reveal beauty in what was previously mundane — if only we have the courage to step out into the mist.

Eric Rhoads