Two significant things happened to me last week: I guested on a friend's podcast and jasonley.com went live.

In preparation for the former I had to finish the latter, and shame on me - I was scrambling at the eleventh hour. Other than knowing I was going to have a casual conversation about life and whatever else came up with Eric, I didn't want to hit the airwaves empty-handed unable to direct his listeners to me on the internet. So, I hustled to get jasonley.com ready enough to not be embarrassed when people visited.

I arrived at Perrin, Eric hit record, we toasted a couple beers and talked for over an hour. And, I never said "jasonley dot com." I busted my ass to get the site ready to share with the world, and I dropped the first ball thrown to me. Eric's a content producing animal. He has traction. His audience trusts him. He set me up for success and I fumbled. I left disappointed in myself, so wanting a do-over. I knew that hour plus long conversation was already on its way to ears everywhere, and I worried I would be forgotten or worse - undiscovered.

During a family gathering yesterday, three days since the podcast was recorded, my in-laws told me they already listened to it. They were the first people to tell me they had. My stomach dropped as my mind raced to calculate whether anything discussed with Eric would be too awkward to talk about in the company of my wife's parents. In what was only a second, but felt like a magnifying glass hovered above me waiting for me to catch fire, I had to come to terms immediately with being exposed and vulnerable. Was I prepared for what I signed up for?

The point of DismantleRepair is to seek a more meaningful self-awareness after identifying and working through anything that’s challenging. I’m proud of myself for recognizing that what I say and do matter, especially when others listen and even more so when it makes me uncomfortable. Now, with purpose.