One day — 15 months ago — inspiration struck. 

And for all the people who do creative work, you understand this moment. When it strikes, you stop what you’re doing and get to work. 

Because if you don’t, you might lose the idea, or worse, the inspiration. So I dropped everything and ran to my laptop. 

Forty-five minutes later, a poem was born. 

More on this in a moment. But first, the backstory.

I work for PGC Basketball, traveling the country in the summer teaching hoops. It’s an incredible job. I get to teach the game, life, and leadership to middle and high school kids. Because of this, I speak in front of groups a lot — giving up to eight one-hour talks in a four-day span. 

And because of that, I constantly look for stories and speaking techniques I can use to teach better. 

Two years ago, I listened to a pastor tell a story, where in the middle, she beautifully transitioned into spoken word poetry. 

It seemed effortless and I felt its impact. She was masterful in her delivery and the audience fell into a trance while listening. 

Ever since that moment, I wanted to do this for one of my talks. 

So when inspiration struck one Sunday evening during Covid, I knew what to do. 

I sat down to write. I titled the poem, “What do you want?”

It’s a question I ponder often. I think we all do. 

After finishing, I didn’t share it with anyone. It sat there on my laptop, buried inside a Google drive folder. 

Fast forward 15 months. At that time, I had multiple opportunities to share what I wrote with the players at my summer camps. 

Two times, I pulled my iPad out to share, but chickened out. I didn’t think it was good enough. I was afraid. 

Then, at my last summer camp, in Portland Oregon, a unique moment developed. 

I took the group through an exercise, inspired by this clip, called “Our Way,” from the South Bay Lakers G league team.  

Here’s the gist. The team or someone in the organization reads something — a quote or paragraph — and everyone erupts in support. It doesn’t matter what’s said, but they have to support the person speaking. 

So I had my group do something similar. We broke into groups and started the exercise. 

Then we got back together (40 of us) for one final round. Players and coaches got the chance to come to the front of the room and share. It could be silly or serious, it didn’t matter. The only rule was keep it appropriate and give massive support to whomever was courageous enough to come up and share. 

After a few people came up, the group called for me to share something, and started chanting my name. “KY YUL,  KY YUL.” I listened as they broke my name into two syllables with each reverberating chant. 

I said “okay!” And at that moment, I knew what I’d share.

It was the poem I’d tried to share before, but didn’t have the courage to go through with. At that moment, the support of forty teenagers from fourteen to eighteen years old pushed me over the edge. I knew they had my back.

I grabbed my iPad. I scrolled to the document with the poem. I took a deep breath…

…and began. 

While it was a cool moment to share for the first time, I’m still working to put it into one of my talks like that pastor who originally inspired me did. 

But for now, if you’d like to watch the video of this moment, Click here. 

And if you want the transcript, keep scrolling down. 

Transcript begins here.

 

 

I plead with you and implore you to take this one suggestion. 

Look inside yourself and ask this one question. 

What do you want in your life? 

See, people don’t lack motivation….they lack clarity. 

Not understanding the consequence of confusion, the severity

Waking up and living each day with this, uncertain regularity

Hoping they jump from nothing to…. popularity…… 

Dreaming of one day having this… unearned prosperity….. 

And desiring to become a person, others call a rarity. 

But, that’s not how it works. 

So again, I’ll ask you. 

What do you want?

So many never answer this question, they have no clue.

But I stand here right now to make sure it doesn’t happen to you. 

Because I don’t want you to live a life of regret, 

a feeling that  leads to being upset, 

That continually races through your mind like a…red corvette, 

that replays over and over like an old cassette, 

You don’t deserve that.

So I ask you again. 

What do you want? 

See, that my friends… Is the question

Asking that gets you on the path of progress, a progression

Asking that makes you like nobody else, an exception

Asking that gives your life a deep meaning, a direction

Asking that helps you thrive, with self expression

Asking that forces you to be courageous, even just for a second. 

That’s what you deserve.

So I ask you again. 

What do you want?

Because when you find that answer, you become different 

You think different.  You talk different. You walk different. You sleep different. You train different. You lead different. You study different. You live different.  

You are different.

Yeah, different is unnerving, intimidating, and scary

But that’s the price of admission to overcome being ordinary

Difference can change the world. 

You can change the world 

So my question. My last question for you. 

What. Do. You. Want?

The car screeches to a halt. My mask is on.  I jump out the driver-side door, sprint to the trunk, rummage through seven bags, grab my backpack and suitcase , and boom…

…I’m off. 

Left. Right. Fast. Slow. I weave through slow moving travelers on my way to security. At TSA Pre Check, the line’s longer than usual. 

Damn. 

There are twenty people ahead of me. “What do I do? At this point, I’m guessing there’s five minutes until my plane shuts its doors and begins its journey —  with or without me. 

My blood pressure’s rising. My eyes are scanning. My mind is racing. 

If I stand in line, there’s no chance I’m making it onboard. If I cut others without asking, they’ll get pissed. I’m talking to myself. “Okay, you got this Kyle, be courageous and get to the front of the line.”

I speed-walk to the front.

Talking fast, I say, “Hi, my plane closes its doors in five minutes, would it be okay if I got in front of you?”

The lady nods and gives a bit of a smug look as if to say, ‘sure, but we’re all in a hurry.’ I get to the man sitting at the high-topped security desk, show him my ticket and ID. He gives me the go-ahead to put my items through the x-ray machines and then get in line to go through the metal detectors. There’s still one person in front of me. 

Three minutes to doors closing.

I ask the man if I can cut. He kindly says, “yeah for sure! Good luck man!”

I get through security and take off for my gate faster than Usain Bolt in the olympics. 

Two minutes left.

I weave through people like a slalom skier. 

I hardly notice my shoelaces are untied from racing through security. My backpack’s flopping around. I tighten the straps, mid stride. My suitcase — a roller bag with four wheels —is mobile, but isn’t behaving like I need it to. 

There’s people everywhere. I look up, I’m  only at Gate A2. I need to get to A20 in the next 90 seconds. My strides are long. My focus is narrow. My mission is clear. 

There are hundreds of people in the airport, most of whom are in my way. It’s so damn crowded. 

My palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy. I’m nervous, but on the surface, I look calm and ready (kinda).

But there’s an issue. 

In front of me, there’s an older couple walking slowly. I can tell this will be a problem. They’re directly in my path. 

 If I can maneuver this well, I’ll make the flight — I think. 

I’m five seconds from them, this is a make – or break moment. 

As I get closer, I see a small gap between the Joseph-A-Banks pop-up sign and the elderly couple. I know I can’t make it through this tight gap with my body, backpack and suitcase.

…so I do the unthinkable…

…I release my suitcase to roll on it’s own to the left side of the sign while I run on the right, in between the sign and the couple. 

Without missing a step, I grab the suitcase and continue on. No one notices but me. But damn, it was awesome!

Thirty seconds left. 

I’m passing gate A18 when I make eye contact with the gate agent. I can tell she’s about to close the gate and give the ok to send the plane.

I pick up the pace. Thirteen seconds left. Gate A19 is flying past my peripheral vision. 

Ten seconds. Nine, eight, seven…

I knock over a confused little kid but don’t have time to apologize. 

Six…five…four…

I get to the desk..

Three…two…one..

“I’m on this flight and I am late. … Wait!! ”I practically yell as I try to catch my breath. 

The gate agent says, “huh?” 

So I explained the situation in less than five seconds. 

“Traffic. Sprinted. Almost missed. I’m HERE” I’m so out of breath.

She smiles and seems to understand. I can’t help myself, so I ask..

“By chance, are there any exit rows available? 

She says, “honey, with that type of hustle, “you’re getting first class.” 

I say, “really?” She says, “nah, but there is an exit row. Have a great flight.” 

And that was the day I realized, you don’t have to be two hours early to the airport like your parents said. I went drop-off to gate in just 6 minutes.

 

I’m awake. But my eyes are closed. 

 

I’m aware, but my body’s not moving. 

I’m deep in thought. 

 

My eyes open for a moment. But I’m not ready to start the day.

No that’s wrong. The day’s already begunI close my eyes.

I’m in a creative zone. It’s where the words you’re reading right now were born.

 

Back to my thoughts. 

“What am I doing? Where is my life going? It’s hot in here. 

My eyes open again, immediately followed by my alarm clock. “Damn that was good timing.” 

 

I’m not ready to get out of bed. Again, I close my eyes. 

Back to my thoughts. 

“What do I have to, no sorry, get to, do today? 

 

Work. 

 

Ahh I love my work. But today, I’m just not feeling it.” 

My alarm goes off. Again, my eyes open. 

 

I hate that treacherous apple default alarm that I haven’t ever changed, but always tell myself I will.

 

I smash the alarm with a feeling of defeat. I stand up. Get dizzy for 3 seconds. Take a few steps toward the bathroom. Use it. Look at the mirror. Tell myself I’m a beast. Go make coffee. Sit down at my kitchen table. Open my laptop. Begin to write. Delete. Write. Edit. Write. Sip coffee. Think. Write. 

And here before you I have accomplished my first win of the day. A short piece about, like seinfeld……nothing

 

One that came to me while I was awake, but my eyes were closed.