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- Olive you so much, Italy!
Olive you so much, Italy!
Here's olive the trip details I've been dying to share with you
Adrian Williams
October 08, 2024
Welcome to the community where together, we’ll dive deep and find the strength to never give up because Great Things Take Time.
If you were forwarded this email, you can subscribe and join the Great Things Take Time Community to get content from me every Monday.
Today’s newsletter is a long one, and I want to thank the people who shared so vulnerably to make it so. As one person, there is only so much I can share with you from a first-person perspective. There is a lot that I have never experienced and won’t try to speak about; it’s not my place. We often seek comfort and guidance from the wrong people, and I’m grateful to those who have had the strength to share their stories to make others feel less alone.
P.S. If you’re part of the Great Things Collective, check out the Announcements channel in the Discord Server to see the October events. The sign up for October Events drops @ 6pm EST today in the Announcements channel! Be ready!
Here's what's in today's email
Meglio tardi che mai (Better late than never)
Being back to work in the studio this week was exhilarating. You know it gets me excited when I see you all cursing my name. That’s how I know we’re doing some spicy movement!
A few weeks ago, most of you shared that you were interested in learning more about my Italy trip and time away to celebrate Andy Speer and Rebecca Kennedy’s nuptials. It’s taken a bit, but as promised, here it is. Meglio tardi che mai 🤷♂️
After a long day spent as tourists in the streets of Rome, we headed over to Bari for the main event and continued celebrations. There was pasta, so much pasta, and everything that was eaten tasted like some of the best food I’d ever had.
Have you ever seen anyone more excited about an Aperol Spritz?
Before you roll your eyes, much of it was food we purchased from local vendors and stores in Bari and cooked ourselves. It was a stark reminder that in America, we don’t live as well as we should. Remember how I shared that Nana would never let us eat fast food? Well, if she had been in Italy with us, I’m not sure I’d ever be able to get her to come back and eat what we sell at our grocery stores. The quality of food at every single location was shocking. Corner stores, grocery stores, you name it, all produced quality food.
 1 Pasta… |  ….2 Pasta… |  …3 Pasta. More! |
But what I really want to share with you are the things that can’t be linked. This isn’t a travel blog; I’m not here to share my tips and tricks and my outfits. (In case you were wondering, ripped black shirts translate well internationally.) In fact, it feels wrong to share the finite details of something that was so meticulously planned by Rebecca and Andy.
The Festival of Us
If you’ve ever been to a wedding, you know that so much is centered around the couple. They are the center of focus; what is served is catered to their tastes, and everything from decor to music choice is a nod to the pair. After all, weddings are the celebration of the union of two people or even two families, so it makes sense that things revolve around the whole reason people are there.
This was not the case for Rebecca and Andy’s wedding.
Never in my life have I been at a wedding or celebration like this where every person there was thought of. This is why they called it the Festival of Us, it was a celebration of the people they care most about and their relationship with the two of them. It also morphed into a celebration of the relationships between everyone there.
Sure, we were there for their intimate wedding ceremony, but it didn't feel like that was the only reason that we were brought there. It felt like we were all brought there so that we could have this deep understanding and connection to each other. It truly was a beautiful way for two people to join in union with each other, to think about other people even while they're doing one of the most important things that you can do in your life: committing to each other.
Everything they did was centered around making sure that everyone felt bonded and connected. There was a wide variety of people, instructors, and work colleagues, close friends of Andy or Rebecca, and significant others. The way the environment was created was that if you were a close friend of Rebecca or Andy, you immediately felt closeness. Everyone’s uniqueness was celebrated, but everyone felt welcome, wanted and close.
Have you ever felt a scenario like that? Where you go to a friend’s house, a birthday party, or another celebration, and you feel like you could be friends with everyone in the room? To me, who you surround yourself with says a lot about the person that you are. If your friends can all come from different backgrounds and be wildly different people but still connect in their own right, it’s clear you value more than surface-level interactions.
Closeness is not something that I do well. Maybe it’s the New Yorker in me, but I don’t let people in and I don’t trust many. There is a difference between kindness and closeness, many mistake the two but you are still able to be kind to one another without letting others in. Intimacy requires me to trust you, and I like to put people through their paces to see if their interest is more than surface level.
Put That Thing Away! (You know what I’m Referring To)
During the trip, I made an intentional decision to put away my phone and only reach for it on rare occasions. There is a whole world we’re missing because we’re stuck to our phones like glue, and without my phone as a crutch, I picked up on the tiniest details of people’s reactions and grew closer to the new people I had met.
Imagine if I had my phone on me, so many places to set it down and forget it.
There was no relying on my phone to compare my experience to what others had going on or to guide the trip (Rebecca and Andy had planned out most of what we would do, which took away that burden). We could be sitting in the living room, not doing anything special, but what came from that felt priceless. As a group, this is where we dove into loss, vulnerability, honesty, and rigidity, the topics I shared a few weeks ago. You couldn’t quantify that time in cost, likes, or engagement, and why would you want to? Sometimes, the best things in life can’t be measured.
Without my phone to filter my experiences, there were things I’m never going to forget from my trip. Like the taste of the alleyway pasta made by someone’s grandma, hand-sliced with a jagged-ass knife. Or watching the courage Tunde had floating in the open waters of the Ionian Sea guided by Andy. (I will say that this was something I was grateful we had a recording of, but it is a reminder that the playback isn’t as powerful as real life.)
Welcome Back To Your Regularly Scheduled Programming
John Michael and I remarked about how we wished we could have this level of connection with our loved ones all the time and wondered what was stopping us. Well, it’s pretty clear what is stopping us; it’s next to impossible to remove distractions from our lives. With family, children, jobs, and other responsibilities, it’s not possible to shut everything out and find the time for a deep conversation. I referred to our time together as getting back to our regularly scheduled programming. To a time before we had media dictating how we feel or what we do, or devices that do half the work for us.
What I took away from the Italy trip was to look for the moments when I could get as close to distraction free as possible with the people I care about. Multitasking is the enemy of memories. You rarely remember two events where your attention is split. Something always suffers.
The irony is not lost on me that to read this, you have to be on a computer, phone or other device. It’s proof that technology is so intertwined with our lives, we may almost never be able to pull ourselves away. But when we use it to our advantage, to share stories, meet like-minded people, and set our days up to be more efficient, we’re taking control of our lives and molding them how we want.
Moments with Maurice
Each week, my Wednesday content will leave you with a reflection and prompt to share your reactions and thoughts, and the following Monday I’ll highlight some of the responses. Taking things inward is powerful, but sharing them reminds us we aren’t alone in our thinking and that we aren’t all that much different.
On Wednesday I shared about small choices I made, and people I cut ties with who were the catalyst for major change. Y’all, I cannot stress enough that the people you surround yourself with can either be pushing you to Great Things or holding you back. Sometimes, a simple change is just saying “no.” I know that if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to connect with so many of you.
Reflection: Think about pivotal choices you’ve had to make in your life. They could be big choices, shaking up your life, or smaller ones that cascade into something bigger. What were some of these choices? Did you realize the impact they would have on you at the time? How has your life changed since you made these choices? Did you expect it?
Once you have your answer to the above, whether written down or in your head, think about the people who supported you along the way. Whether it was a small comment that made you make a change to begin with, or someone who cheered you along, it’s time to return the favor! Reach out to them to check in on what they’ve been up to. It can be as simple as “What are you excited about that you’ve been putting energy into?”
Prompt: Tell me about some of the pivotal choices you’ve made and the impact they’ve had on your life. Did you expect all the changes that were to come with it?
Everything in my being told me moving in with my now-ex was wrong for me. I began having such anxiety about it that it even began to disrupt my morning workouts to the point of panic (this had never happened before). My body was having a visceral reaction—my intuition was trying to warn me. Short on time and with my Philly apartment lease ending, I bit the bullet and moved in with him.
Shortly after moving in, it became clear how different not only we were, but also what our ideas of what partnership entailed. Within a month of moving in, our relationship ended. I was then forced into, "Where will I go now?" At the time, I had a remote job, but knew the "adult" thing to do was save money, because I had little in savings. So I decided to leave PA and move back home to Maryland. At this point, I was 30 and had been on my own since 18. Moving home was and still is uncomfortable for a lot of reasons, but it's propelled me deeper into healing than I thought possible.
I've confronted where some of my relationship patterns stem from and how to find security in resting. Notably, it's allowed me to do a sort of reset on what I want out of life and getting back to myself.
Because of my husband’s schedule as a firefighter, and the fact that my life happily revolves around my 3 children, I am usually the sole caretaker. I have a nanny during the days, but weekends and nights are just me - and that’s typically when all my friends make plans to do something. I have to say no a lot - I don’t have a backup babysitter and I have no family here. It never really bothered me until it clearly bothered a friend of mine. She asked me to an event the day of, and I just couldn’t swing it. She seemed totally understanding.
But then for the next 6 months left me out of everything she did - with our entire group of friends. I never got another invite. When I asked her, did I do something wrong to not be included anymore? She told me she asked me once and I couldn’t go. I tried explaining how that made me feel - to be written off over 1 no and how to be invited with all your friends - even if I can’t go - is better than no invite at all.
She stopped talking to me, ignored me, wrote me off completely. I mourned what I thought was a great friendship for weeks. Still coming to terms that it’s over. But not by my doing. I believe I did everything I could.
 | Fresh Starts and Clean Slates |
 | On Wednesdays, the Great Things Collective will hear stories from my life that have influenced who I am today. I’ll give insight into my past, how I dealt with what I was given, what I learned from it, and what I’m still learning. You’ll get to know me deeper, and in turn, I want to learn about your journey. |
Fear can paralyze you. It can make you judge all your decisions and second guess who you are as a person. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t experience these feelings when I first started my work.
In the studio alone, yelling at a blinking red light on a camera felt weird.
Was I doing it right?
Did people like my coaching style?
Was I saying the right things?
Could they follow the program?
I tore myself apart, wondering about these things. I felt like I was horrible on camera; it did not come naturally to me. It was like an awkward date; there was no chemistry, and you just had to grit your teeth, be pleasant, and get through the meal. Fuck it, it is what it is. Without the real-time reaction from the people I was coaching, as I had my whole life, I had no gauge of what I was doing.
Am I good enough?
 | What’s Got Me Smilin’ |
Because no matter what, there is always something to smile about.
Inked up: Looking back (pun intended) on my back tattoo from almost four years ago. The cherry blossoms have deep significance to my Nana.
Coworkers I’m Lucky To Have: Tunde is one of the many people at work I feel so honored to share space with.
HalloWEENIE: Happy Halloween from our little Chicken, enough said.
Foot Warmer: Man’s best friend is also man’s best work buddy is also man’s best foot warmer. Thanks for the toasty toes, Frankie.
Carrot Cake FTW: Grateful for Great Things Collective members who are on the bandwagon both for carrot cake donuts and taunting Eddie for his hatred of said donut.
Simple Meals: You can never go wrong with burger night!
| You Put Your Foot In This |
Food is a universal way of sharing and experiencing each other.
My grandma, my mom, and I have always been the same, it brings us joy to see people enjoying what we’ve made. Because of that, I want to give space for the community to share recipes that are so full of love, it makes people say "damn, you put your foot in this!"
Each week, I’ll highlight a recipe from the community, sharing the story behind why this meal, dish or drink is special to them. What better way for us to get to know each other better and maybe even cook together?
“Damn, You Put Your Foot In
Your Grandmother's Salmon Croquettes.…”
Debra’s grandmother with her kids, her mom is on the far right.
"I want my momma's salmon croquettes. But she's dead and can't make them for me."
This is what my own mother said to me when I asked her if there was anything she craving. It was 2010 and two months earlier she had been diagnosed with lung cancer and already in an almost-hospice stage - a hospital bed had been put in my parent's living room and nurses were visiting daily. And her mother - my beloved Grandmother - had died 18 years earlier.
There isn't a lot you can do for someone that is actively dying beyond offer comfort. And for me, food has always been comfort. And because I so associate food with comfort, I have a canny ability to remember the way my momma - and my grandmother - made different food even when the recipe was nowhere to be found. My sister was both surprised - and a little grossed out - at this request. I'm sure she, like me, remembered our mother making these salmon croquettes on nights my father was traveling - canned salmon and needing to pick out all the skin and bones. But I promised her I would bring them the next day.
Grief is a funny thing - to be grieving when someone is still living. It messes with the brain a bit and I wandered around the cereal aisle for a good 15 minutes looking for plain bran flakes - 40% Bran Flakes was the cereal my daddy liked and it was what we kept. Unable to find it in my haze, I finally settle on a box of Raisin Bran with the plan to just pick out the raisins. The canned fish aisle gave me a positive boost, though, as by the 90's you could purchase boneless, skinless canned salmon - something you couldn't find (or we couldn't afford) in the 70's!
I made these for her in last week of May and she was gone the next week....
Ingredients:
Canned Salmon
Eggs, Onion
Bran Flakes
Salt. Pepper
Garlic Powder
Maybe Chili Powder if you like
Oil for frying
Recipe
Begin with a large can (14 to 16 oz) of canned salmon. Look carefully at the can as "traditional" canned salmon will include the skin (and sometimes bones) that grossed out my sister.
Drain the salmon of any excess water and place in a bowl. Even with purchasing boneless, you should still use a fork to flake the salmon apart and check for bones - they are tiny little suckers.
Dice (or mince) a white onion. You want about two tablespoons of onion.
Add salt - about a 1/2 teaspoon and several shakes of fresh pepper.
Add an egg and use the fork to mix. Form it into patties and set aside. (I like to use waxed paper to hold the in process little cakes).
Lightly sprinkle garlic powder across the salmon while it's not breaded.
In a ziplock bag, add about two cups of bran cereal, then add several shakes more garlic powder (and some chili powder if you want it a little spicy). CRUSH the bran flakes until they are fine. Dump them onto a plate (or other piece of waxed paper.
Take salmon patties and roll them into the bran flakes until a nice little crust is formed. (You can get fancy, and put them first in a dish with more eggs, but this is a depression era recipe where you use as little as possible of what you have and you would have only dipped it in eggs first if you had your own chickens)
In a large skillet - preferably cast iron - add 1 1/2 to 2 inches of vegetable oil (though my grandmother probably used Crisco or lard). Heat the oil on medium high. When it's sizzling, gently place the breaded patties into the hot oil and reduce the heat to medium.
Allow to cook on one side until browned - about 3 to 4 minutes - and gently flip and cook the other side. Remove from the hot oil and place on a paper towel lined plate for the excess oil.
Serve as is - or with a little sauce on the side such as aioli - which you can make by mixing mayo with some garlic powder and little splash of apple cider vinegar. Or make your own "tarter sauce" by mixing in pickle relish, mayo, and a splash of apple cider vinegar.
You can mix in other spices - celery salt or dill are good choices.
Submit your recipes and story here
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| See You Next Time |
Thanks for being with me on this journey. I’m excited to see where this takes us, and what we’re going to achieve together. I know this is far from perfect, but together I hope we can grow it into exactly what it’s meant to be.
Remember:
-Adrian
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