Say It So They Move:
|
This happens when:
Clarity requires courage.
It means being willing to pause and ask, "Does this make sense?" or "Can you repeat this back to me so I know we’re aligned?"
In Hapkido, if I say "defend against a wrist grab" but don’t explain how, I’m assuming you know the steps. That assumption gets you tossed.
Same with life. Vague advice, unclear direction, passive leadership? It leads to broken trust, wasted time, and unmet expectations.
Words are tools. The wrong tool creates a mess. The right tool builds connection.
Simple, vivid language sticks. Complicated, abstract language drifts.
Compare:
Which one is going to get through?
The first might sound smarter, but the second actually works. That’s the point.
When you're communicating as a leader:
Communication isn’t one-way. It’s a dance.
True leaders understand their audience—not just their message. That’s why the same truth has to be told differently depending on who’s hearing it.
You don’t talk to a white belt the same way you talk to a black belt. You don’t lead your girlfriend like you lead your coworkers.
Empathy isn’t softness. It’s strength. It’s your ability to feel out the best way to speak so the message lands. Sometimes that means slowing down. Sometimes it means getting blunt. But it always means reading the room.
The ultimate litmus test for clear communication is: Did they act on it?
If not, something in your delivery didn’t land. And that’s not just on them—it’s on you.
Want to be a better leader? Want to build a tribe? Want to earn loyalty, trust, and respect? Then master the art of:
Be the kind of communicator who people say, “When he speaks, I get it. I feel it. I want to move.”
Years later, I found myself standing in front of a room full of Hapkido students teaching a class on joint locks and takedowns.
I remembered that day on the job site.
And I remembered all the times I thought I was clear but wasn’t.
All the times I gave vague instructions or rushed through explanations, and my students got confused—or worse, injured.
So this time, I slowed down.
"Here’s what I want you to do," I said.
Then I demonstrated. Slowly.
Then I broke it down again. Repeated it. Had them repeat it back to me.
And you know what? They got it.
By the end of the seminar, they were flowing through techniques like seasoned martial artists. Not because I’m some prodigy. But because I finally understood something vital:
Leadership isn’t about barking orders. Or sounding like a TED Talk. Or dropping clever quotes.
Leadership is being willing to pause, connect, and translate your message into something they can feel and do.
So here’s your challenge:
This week, choose one area of your life where communication isn’t flowing. Could be work. Could be your relationship. Could be your own inner dialogue.
Ask yourself:
Then simplify. Clarify.
Say it again—but this time, say it so they move.
That’s leadership. That’s influence. That’s the Way of the Warrior.
Now it’s your turn.
If this hit home for you, reply to this email with your biggest communication struggle.
I read every one.
Let’s sharpen your blade together.
Stay strong, Chuck
Helping young men to become warriors, leaders, and teachers. Showing them how to overcome fear, bullies, and life's challenges so they can live the life they were meant to live, for more, check out https://CharlesDoublet.com/
"Most People Can't Hear What You're Saying Over What Your Body Is Screaming" Why Mastering Non-Verbal Communication Might Be the Most Important Skill You Ever Learn Shrinking But Growing I used to be 5’4”. Not tall, not short—just... there. Now I’m 5’2” on a bad day. Maybe 5’3” when my spine decompresses, the stars align, and I’ve had a good stretch on the mat. Decades of working construction does that to a guy. You carry hundreds of pounds of conduit, climb scaffolds, drop into crawlspaces,...
Everything I Need to Know About Life, I Learned on the Mat 4 Martial Arts Principles That Make You a Better Man, On and Off the Mat The Day I Learned to Stand Still There’s a moment in every martial artist’s journey that changes everything. Mine came years ago, not during a belt test or a tournament, but in a quiet corner of the dojang. I was a second-degree black belt in Hapkido, working with a younger student who was fast—too fast. Every time I stepped in to demonstrate a simple technique,...
Fear, Fawning, and Respect:How to Stop Playing Small and Start Living Like a Warrior The Bus Bar and the Black Belt Back in the late '80s, I found myself laying on my side, lying on a piece of cardboard inside a hot, dusty electrical room, staring at some "hot" 3000 amp bus bars. The electricians forgot to give us the 120V uninterruptible power circuit that we needed for our fire alarm panel. So there we were getting ready to tap into a live bus bar to get our 120V circuit. 3000A Copper...