I used to believe that if you just worked hard enough, learned enough, and pushed through enough, you could engineer your way out of any problem.

That belief served me well for a long time. I spent eight years in the U.S. Navy as an Electronics Technician, learning the precise, unyielding laws of systems and circuits. When a system breaks down under pressure, you don't guess — you troubleshoot, you isolate the failure, and you fix it. I carried that exact same mindset into the private sector, working as a robotics and test engineer at Micron, Lockheed Martin, and TRW Automotive. If a machine failed the stress test, it meant the design was flawed. You simply rebuilt it stronger.

I approached my career, my leadership, and my life with that same engineering precision. Armed with a B.S. in Finance from the University of Michigan and a Master of Arts in Public Administration from Central Michigan University, I transitioned into federal service. For more than a decade, I served as a Civilian Federal Contracting Officer across the National Institutes of Health, the Defense Contract Management Agency, and the Navy Medical Logistics Command, eventually rising to become an Executive Advisor at the Internal Revenue Service — a role I hold to this day.

I was advising senior executive leaders, navigating crisis communications, and managing high-stakes partnerships across some of the most demanding environments in the federal government. I was surrounded by brilliant, highly educated people. We all knew the theories of leadership. We had read the books on emotional intelligence. We had the vocabulary, the frameworks, and the credentials.

But then I noticed the glitch in the system.

When the System Breaks

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I watched brilliant leaders — people who could quote leadership theory chapter and verse — completely fracture when the pressure hit. Under stress, the "knowing" evaporated. The empathy disappeared. The emotional intelligence they understood intellectually failed to translate into their actual behavior when it mattered most.

They didn't lack knowledge. They lacked the bridge to carry that knowledge into the fire.

“Intellectual understanding is fragile. When the crisis peaks, theory is not enough.”

I didn't just observe this disconnect in others. I lived it.

Life has a way of testing the systems we build for ourselves. For me, the test came in the form of profound personal and family loss. The grief was staggering, and the emotional toll compounded into military service-connected PTSD. Suddenly, I was the one failing the stress test. All my education, all my executive experience, all my engineering logic — none of it was enough to navigate the emotional chaos I was experiencing.

I knew what I was supposed to do. I understood the psychology of grief and trauma. But knowing the theory of swimming doesn't help when you are drowning.

I realized that the gap between knowing and living is not a knowledge problem. It is a practice problem.

The Power of Practice

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The answer didn't come from another book or another leadership seminar. It came from a return to the most fundamental truth of human behavior: we do not rise to the level of our knowledge; we fall to the level of our training.

I began to study not just Emotional Intelligence (EQ), but Spiritual Intelligence (SQ) — the deeper, purpose-driven maturity that anchors us when everything else is shaking. Drawing on Daniel Goleman's EQ quadrant model and Cindy Wigglesworth's SQ21 framework, I stopped just studying these principles. I started practicing them.

I broke down emotional regulation, empathy, and resilience into daily, actionable steps. I practiced pausing before reacting. I practiced finding the shared humanity in difficult conversations. I practiced observing my own emotional triggers without judgment. I did it imperfectly and I still do it imperfectly, but I practice consistently.

And slowly, the bridge was built. The knowledge moved from my head, into my body, and finally into my life as lived wisdom.

“Practice doesn't make perfect. Practice makes permanent.”

Why I Built PMP EQ+

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This journey is why I founded Practice Makes Permanent EQ+ in 2024.

Today, as I raise my two adopted nephews, balance family with building something I believe in deeply, and continue to serve in an advisory capacity at the IRS, my mission is clear. We live in a world where information is free and abundant. You don't need another leadership theory or another book to read; and you definitely don't need another certification to hang on your wall.

What you need is practice.

PMP EQ+ exists to close the gap between the leader you know you can be, and the leader you actually are under pressure - throughout all aspects of your life. Through structured assessments, personalized practice activity recommendations, and safe-space guidance, we help individuals and organizations build the kind of emotional and spiritual intelligence that doesn't evaporate when the stakes are highest.

Because the world doesn't need more people who know about empathy. The world needs more people who can live it — in the boardroom, in the break room, and at the dinner table.

“The bridge from knowing to living is built one practice at a time. I built mine. Now I'm here to help you build yours.”