One person I talked to and asked what a hero looked like was a ten-year-old version of myself. Kids have a brilliant way of seeing themselves and the world. They are confident. They think they showed up with all the right stuff. They believe they are here to save the world and make a positive impact.

Adulthood has a way of squeezing that confidence and certainty out of us.

We get wrapped up in life, and somewhere along the way, we become convinced that there’s nothing special about us. We become content to just get by, accomplishing the bare minimum. We tell ourselves—and others—not to make waves, we’re living the dream, when all we’re doing is simply trying to survive.

Yet the only people who have ever done anything significant were the people who did more than just get by. They raised their hands when the game was on the line and shouted, “Put me in, coach!” They made some waves.

“Getting by” wasn’t part of their vocabulary. “Live fully and thrive” is their mantra.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be Superman. I thought it was a job you could get. I thought I had superpowers and could change the world. I thought I had something extra and was destined for greatness. I even thought I could fly and would tie a bath towel around my neck and run through the house, jumping off furniture. It drove my mother crazy. (My wife doesn’t like it, either.)

One day I had my cape on. It was working well. Flying with ease, I ran through the house, jumping off furniture. First, the couch. I jumped and flew three feet. Then I climbed the kitchen cabinets next to the refrigerator. I took a deep breath and jumped. This time I flew five feet.

I was feeling confident, so I went outside and climbed the tree next to our garage and got onto the roof of the garage. I walked to the edge of the roof and stared at the driveway below. I had confidence and trusted the cape to do its job.

I took a deep breath and, with outstretched arms, I jumped. I flew straight down and landed on the pavement with a thud. My lip started to quiver. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. “Superman doesn’t cry,” I said quietly to myself while holding my knee. My mom heard the commotion and, in one superhuman leap, swooped in to rescue her baby boy. She picked me up, dusted me off, checked me for bruises, and kissed me on the forehead. And then she scolded me like I had never been scolded before.

From that moment on, Superman was grounded.

When we were kids, we looked at the world differently. We believed in something bigger than ourselves.

We could close our eyes and escape to a place where not even the sky was the limit. As we mature, our experiences and knowledge change our perspective and choices.

We can no longer fly with a cape, but you don’t need a cape to be a superhero.

This post includes excerpts from Kevin’s newest book The Hero Effect®: Being Your Best When it Matters the Most.

The Hero Effect® is a personal revelation that also holds profound implications for business. It’s an insightful narrative that challenges conventional thinking and reveals a brand-new paradigm in the world of everyday heroes. After reading, your team will be motivated to reach beyond what is required and do something remarkable! This book is designed to help individuals and organizations achieve greater results by eliminating “ordinary" thinking and mastering the habit of excellence.

Purchase Your Copy Here.

Photo credits (in order of appearance): TK Hammonds, Arnold Exconde, and Yogi Purnama on Unsplash