Avish, his son, & his wife at the CSP award ceremony
The year was 2012. Ten years into my speaking business and my bank account looked like a zip code. And not like the zip code for Ketchikan, Alaska either (look it up). I’m talking about one of those New Jersey zip codes that starts with a “0”...
I’d been scraping by with incredibly low expenses and Olympic-level denial. But “scraping by” doesn’t build a future. And my fiancée could do the math.
“This isn’t sustainable,” she said during one of our increasingly tense conversations about the future. She wanted kids. A house. Maybe to be a stay-at-home mom someday.
Looking at my business trajectory, we’d be lucky to afford a goldfish. And not one of those fancy rainbow ones. Maybe the crackers…
The Quote That Haunted Me
For years, I’d been inspired by a quote that absolutely resonated with me from Steve Martin:
“Be so good they can’t ignore you.”
I loved that quote. Posted it on my wall. Told it to other people. Wrote articles about it. And yet…
I never applied it to myself.
Oh, I thought I had. I was constantly tweaking my presentations, adjusting my marketing, fine-tuning my message.
But here’s the thing:
Tweaking isn’t transforming.
And transformation was what I needed.
The Morning Everything Changed
After a particularly difficult conversation (let’s just say it involved the stark reality that my business trajectory might cost me my marriage), I woke up with a choice:
Keep pretending I was “almost there”…
Or finally say “Yes, And” to the truth I’d been avoiding for a decade.
That truth? That I wasn’t as good as I needed to be.
My content was fine. My delivery was fine. My audience feedback was fine.
And “fine” is where dreams go to die.
The Comfortable Prison of “Good Enough”
Here’s what made it so hard to change: I wasn’t failing.
Every gig, people would say nice things. Some would tell me how great I was. Clients would thank me. I’d get excellent scores on evaluation forms.
It’s like being stuck in quicksand that feels like a warm bath. Comfortable enough that you don’t realize you’re sinking until it’s almost too late.
The worst part? My ego had built an entire fortress of excuses:
“It’s a positioning problem” (It wasn’t)
“I need better marketing” (I didn’t)
“The economy is tough” (It always is)
“People don’t understand improv + business” (They do when it’s done well)
Every excuse kept me from facing the one truth that mattered: I needed to get better.
The Impossible Challenge That Changed Everything
When I finally yielded to reality, I set myself an impossible challenge:
“How can I do high-quality improv comedy – the kind that gets standing ovations at improv theaters – but do it solo or with untrained volunteers?”
See, traditional improv needs multiple trained performers. Chemistry. Timing. Trust.
I had… me. And maybe Bob from accounting who had never been on stage in his life.
For years, I’d minimized the improv in my keynotes because I couldn’t figure out how to make it work. I focused on content, lessons, takeaways – you know, the boring stuff every speaker does.
But my core strength? Making people laugh through lightning-fast improv? Was being left out.
So I started experimenting:
Which games could work solo?
How could I modify formats for untrained volunteers?
What instructions would help audience members succeed?
The Emotional Rollercoaster Nobody Talks About
Let me be real about something most success stories skip: This process was emotionally brutal.
Admitting I wasn’t good enough after 10 years? That hurt.
Watching my fiancée doubt our future? That hurt more.
But you know what really stung? Realizing I’d been getting great responses for being mediocre. Those “great job” comments? They were participation trophies.
Some days I’d practice new material and bomb so hard I’d question everything and want to retreat to the comfort of a stiff drink and a Netflix DVD (remember those?!?!?).
Other days I’d have breakthroughs that made me feel like I was finally becoming the speaker I was meant to be.
The emotion that surprised me most? When I found the joy in keynoting again.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d been phoning it in. Going through the motions. Treating gigs like transactions instead of transformations.
Six Months That Changed My Life
I made a commitment: Six months of brutal honesty and relentless improvement.
I created a financial goal sheet with monthly targets. Real numbers. No hiding.
Then I tore apart everything:
Rewrote material from scratch
Restructured entire presentations
Practiced until my cats begged for mercy (yes, my practice audience was mostly feline based…)
Tested new formats at every opportunity
The turning point came at an HR association gig. I delivered my completely reimagined keynote - high-energy improv from minute one, vulnerability mixed with humor, real value delivered through laughter.
A week later, someone from that audience booked me for a full-fee keynote.
Then another.
Then another.
The Framework I Didn’t Know I Was Following
Looking back, I unconsciously followed what would eventually become my YES AND Framework:
Y - Yield: I stopped fighting reality. Accepted I needed to level up.
E - Explore and Express Your Core: Embraced that I’m an improviser first, speaker second, and rebuilt everything around that truth.
S - Start Small: Changed one game at a time. One presentation element. One risk per gig.
A - Access Your Creative Genius: Asked “impossible” questions. Found solutions nobody else was trying.
N - Notice and Nurture Emotions: Acknowledged the fear, resentment, and shame. Used them as fuel instead of letting them fester.
D - Dig Deeper: Asked my improv friends what I did best. Asked clients what they really wanted. Asked myself what I’d been avoiding.
The Plot Twist Nobody Expected
Three years later, my wife was able to quit her job and be a stay-at-home mom.
Six years later, I earned my CSP (Certified Speaking Professional) designation - something only a tiny fraction of professional speakers worldwide ever achieve.
But here’s the real transformation: I started looking forward to gigs again. Not for the check. Not for the potential referrals. But for the sheer joy of doing what I was born to do.
When you say “Yes, And” to yourself – really say it, not just mouth the words – everything changes.
Your Turn to Stop Saying “Yes, But” to Yourself
We all have our own version of my 2012 moment. That thing we know we need to face but keep dancing around.
Maybe it’s:
The skill you need to develop
The conversation you need to have
The change you need to make
The truth you need to accept
Whatever it is, you’ve probably got a fortress of excuses protecting you from it.
Here’s what I know: Those excuses are more expensive than any investment in yourself could ever be.
Ready to Say “Yes, And” to Your Own Transformation?
I’m launching something new – a 30-Day “Say Yes, And to Yourself” Challenge.
We’ll walk through the same framework that transformed my struggling business into a thriving career. But more importantly, we’ll apply it to whatever you’ve been saying “Yes, But” to in your own life.
This isn’t about improv or speaking. It’s about identifying what’s keeping you stuck and finally breaking free.
Because if a stubborn improviser who spent 10 years in comfortable mediocrity can transform everything in six months, imagine what you can do.
The challenge starts October 20th. Just $47 because you’ll be helping me test and refine this for my next book.
Interested? Message me “YES AND” and I’ll send details.
Fair warning: This involves looking in mirrors you’ve been avoiding. But on the other side?
The life you’ve been saying “Yes, But” to is waiting.