A Dying Light – A Healing hand: A Pride Built Strong

How? When everything seems to be falling apart around you, do you rise and fight. When it feels as though you are cursed, from your first memories of being abused or neglected. Every time you close your eyes you see another person trying to hurt you, destroy you. How do you rise?

That is the question that runs through the heads of hundreds of thousands of people everyday, why should I rise? “How can I rise, I’m tired, I have no more fight inside.” A tear runs down their cheek as they talk, “I just can’t do it anymore.”

That story plays over and over in their thoughts, they hear the voices of all that hurt them, they feel the pain course through their bodies….”I have no more, I am no more.” As they say this, you know that there is a part of them that just wants to be happy, but with each strike, that part gets smaller and smaller.

The sun starts to shine in their life, things start to improve…then bang, another let down, another lie told, or another person scolded. That shine turns to darkness, that hope to fear, the fear turns to dread, and dread to complete and absolute darkness.

When you are in darkness like this what do you do? How do you find even the smallest ray of hope?

I believe that through all darkness, there is a way to grow and find hope, yet I also understand that when you are in this place….hope seems a million miles away. Sometimes it is just a kind word, or a smile that lifts the dirt, you can feel the earth move, and again for a second there is hope…..


We all want to believe that we are strong enough to fight the battles that are placed before us, we want to feel strong, think strong and pick ourselves up by the boot straps. The problem is that sometimes we aren’t wearing boots and we don’t always have that strength to channel from within. We are human, we are not meant to be alone, we are meant to be “ONE”. Humans are social beings, we are not designed to be alone, do alone, win alone, we are designed to be a Pride, a unit, a family. This is our strength.

So when the darkness begins to close in and your heart begins to break, as you feel the blood begin to seep, you can either let yourself fall deep, into the darkness….or search for the ray of hope, that hand that is searching through the darkness for you….that is your strength….find your Pride…Your Family…and let them pick up. This is strength. As for one we call, as many we rise and shine!

So when you ask yourself, why should I rise, how can I rise, I’m tired, I have no more fight inside…We say to you….you might not but your Pride/Family…WE DO! This is how we rise, we unite! We support each other, and build a Pride that grows each day, that tears down the blight, the plight, with incredible fight, we rise!

No matter where one may be, they are never alone in their struggles, unless they choose to be.  It is this choice that you make to fight alone that maybe your true adversary. You may survive the battle, but will you ever win the war.

No matter where one maybe, they are never alone in their struggles, if they choose to reach out…that hand is there…and together you will search through the darkest of night…to find that light…..it is there and together WE will LIVE!

So build your Pride….Start with one and grow into many….Unite our Prides and together we can truly UNITE these States!

#Lionheart; #buildingourPride; #buildavillage; #Pepper&SaltConsulting

A Warriors Battle

Today I woke  in pain, but fought through it. I listened to a few motivational tapes and prepared for my fight. What is my fight? I have to go to school and teach, motivate, inspire and guide my students all while having trouble standing. The pain I feel runs through my lower spine and wraps around my hips like lightning striking a tree and bolting down the truck. It feels like a hot streak of pain to my toes. That is the pain I feel when I stand or sit, turn or bend. The other pain is like a constant knife being stuck into my body and slowly twisted, or a twisting of my muscles until I buckle.

I am a warrior, and I fought like hell today. I won my battle, I taught and inspired, and I was proud of what I did today, because I know my message reached at least a few, if not more! Yet, tonight I lay in bed licking my wounds and feeling the effects of a great battle fought. The pain I feel is immense, to the point that tears streak down my cheek. I am strong, but for now my shield is lowered and I cry alone. Releasing my fears, my worries, my pain and my sorrow. For a warrior is tough, and a warrior knows when and where they can let down their guard. My guard is down, and I bleed for now. Tomorrow I will rise again, most likely in pain and prepare myself for battle, a battle I will win once again and pay the price for grinding through.

This price to me is worth that fight, because my goal is to motivate, inspire, and guide others through their rocky road to success. I live the battle, I do not just talk it! So I share this tale of a Warrior’s fight with you, so you can say I will do it to. I CAN. I WILL. I MUST

Good Night From one warrior to another, fight the good fight and heal yourself to fight again.




My Obituary: Until Next Time

I am writing my obituary today not because I am going to or want to die, but because I want to LIVE! When I do die, I want  my life to have meaning, I want my spirit to grow immeasurably, I want my life to have touched, hundreds…no thousand…NO MILLIONS!
I have been through hell, my pain continually tries to pull me back into the fiery pits, but my spirit refuses! So here is my obituary:

Today we lost a man that always fought for everyone, no matter their age, their gender, their race, or their religion. He believed that everyone had a purpose, everyone had a gift and his was to guide people to greatness, helping them see themselves, their strengths and their weaknesses. He want people to hear his story, his struggles and successes because he lived by example, not just words.

He touched too many to state and those people touched others, pay it forward was something that he preached, telling others that all he wanted in return was for them to do unto others as he did them. He wanted them to be great, be kind and be a leader, and he told others that being a leader meant making those around them better.

He was a son to an amazing mother, one who taught him kindness, and generosity, she taught him to love others…even when they did not love him back. He was a son to a father that taught him that you are a father first, to sacrifice for your family and friends, and to go the extra mile for others, because it was right. He was a father with 2 amazing sons that he worked to instill greatness in them, he wanted them to be great in their own right, with their own identity not his, teaching them that anything was possible even when the odds were stacked against them. Love, kindness and having a destiny was the gift he left. He was a husband that made mistakes, but learned, grew and strived to be the rock that she needed. When they married, he did not want her to take his name, because that was her identity not his. She did not complete him, because he was whole, he wanted her for her, not because she was property or an object, but because she was  a partner, a friend.

As his Great Aunt Roma said every time they parted ways, it’s not good-bye, it is until next time. He took this to heart and believed that physical death was not the end, but a new beginning and a transformation that grew because of his growth here on earth. He leaves us with the following….BELIEVE in the PERSON in the GLASS, for you are your God, your creator, or your destructor. You are your greatest supporter, or your greatest foe, for it is your perspective that drives you forward. So continue to strive with love and kindness for yourself first and then everyone else. Please do not hold hate in your heart, let it go and embrace life!


The Struggle is Real: My Story Cont.


Growing up I was always told God would not give you more than you can handle, but the pain I experience day in and day out are really challenging this belief. I know that life shakes us up, it challenges our resolve and gives us opportunities to grow, but we have to accept those challenges and see them as opportunities, or growth does not occur. Yet, here I am today in pain with no relief, and so I question can I handle it? Am I strong enough? So I reflect…

I have literally walked through the valley of the shadow of death and returned. I died multiple times, I saw death, I saw what I believed to be GOD and it was not my time. I came back to a beaten body, I was told I would not walk again, I would not be the same again…Had I listen and believed what they told me, they would have been right. I did not, I fought through pain that cannot be described with words, I fought through surgery after surgery, rehab after rehab, and become stronger each time. So, again I asked myself, can I handle it? Am I strong enough?

HELL YES I CAN!!!!! If I told myself anything else, I would fall!

The truth is, there have been many times, where I did fall, where I had to put my hand out and ask for help. That is what a warrior does…whatever is necessary to rise and fight again.

The thing is we are often told that you have to pull yourself up by the bootstraps, don’t shed a tear boy be strong, keep fighting. Grind through it, No Pain, No Gain….

Sometimes, that is just wrong! We are human, and we must learn to feel, no matter what that feeling may be. Science backs this, when we shed a tear, scientist can look at it under a microscope and tell you how you were feeling when you shed the tear. Each tear contains different hormones, and saline levels, which tells us the feeling is being released from our core, the negative energy is no longer weighing us down.

We need to feel, we need to be strong, but we also have to  understand that asking for help, is ok. Losing a battle is ok. Bruce Lee said it best when he said, “To me defeat in anything simply tells me something is wrong in my doing; it is a path leading to success and truth.” So fall, fight, learn, and grow.Struggle1680x10501


My Story


Chapter 1
My Story

I come from an amazing family, a strong father and a loving and caring mother. I was born in Denver, Colo. To Robert and Donna Frick. My father worked for GE and was working his way up the corporate ladder, so we moved a lot early in my life. After Denver we moved to North Carolina, where my brother Matt was born. From there we went to New Hampshire and then ended up in Michigan, where I got involved in hockey. My father loved hockey, but never pushed for me to be in it, but the day I brought the flyer home from school about hockey was a dad that made my father proud. From that point on my father had to make a choice, his family and kids or his career? He choose family! He gave up being a very powerful player in the corporate world, to be there for my brother and I. Jack Welsh, the eventual CEO of GE, wanted my father to come along with him on the road of riches and power. My father said no. He wanted to be there for us, rather than provide millions of dollars, he made sure we had a father figure present and accounted for. The sacrifices both he and my mother made for my brother and I still amazes me.

Hockey became my family’s life, both my brother and I played hockey at the highest level growing up. We traveled all over North America and sometimes beyond. Many weekends, I would be in one Canadian City and my brother would be in another, which meant mom and dad were always traveling with us, mom with one and dad with the other. The cost of playing hockey at this level was high, but the cost of time was greater and both of our parents never flinched, they made sure we were there.

As I grew older hockey became more and more important and school, well became less important, at least in my mind. I was a great hockey player, not so great in school. So my efforts, my energies went into sports, not school. This meant that my grades began to suffer. I did not believe I was smart and my grades proved to me that was the case. I avoided school, I avoided the embarrassment that I thought I was in the classroom. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a dumb jock! I had it in my head that I was going pro in hockey, not thinking about the need for college. I was growing into my body and as I neared 18 I closed in on 200 lbs. and at 6’4” I caught the interest of a lot of people. Unfortunately my grades were so poor that I could not pass the NCAA requirements to play Division 1 hockey. So, I had a choice to make…go to Preparatory School in New Hampshire with my brother (Kimball Union Academy) or play Junior Hockey and go to Community College.

Well as an 18 year old, I knew everything and went against my father’s wishes to go to Kimball Union, and went to Oakland Community College. I did not want to leave my girlfriend at the time. I told my dad I could do it, I would achieve good grades and get into a University. How that decision would change life as I knew it….

December 18, 1991, I walked out of my last class of my first semester knowing I had earned a 3.75 GPA. Brent and I came out of class on a high and Brent suggested we head to breakfast to celebrate. At first I was reluctant, no money and having a girlfriend I as supposed to meet up with soon, but I agreed. We headed toward the Country Kitchen, a restaurant I was not familiar with, so I followed Brent closely. There are a few events that remain in my memory from that day…I remember pulling up to an intersection looking up and seeing the Pontiac Silverdome, then turning onto Opdyke Road, turning on my wipers and switching lanes…then…everything goes into darkness….

The story I have been told by Brent, and witnesses was that I traveled down the hill on Opdyke Rd and got into the left turn lane behind Brent and another car. The first car turned left onto Auburn Rd., Brent followed, and I was right behind him….


For many years now I have tried to remember what exactly happened at 11:02 am that morning, why did I turn? How did I not see that Yellow Fully Loaded Car Transport barreling down on me? What was going through my minds as the event unfolded? I will never know.
This is what did happen, as I turned left, a Car Transport Carrying a full load of GMC Pick-ups was barreling down on the intersection trying to beat the light, he was traveling well above the posted speed limit of 45 mph. My white Toyota Corolla GTS was hit on the right front and driven backwards at a high rate of speed, I am not sure if it was the sheer mass of the truck or the speed, but my car and I were thrown 10 feet up into the air landing on a conversion van’s roof and sliding off onto the road.

As the truck hit me, I was thrown though the right front windshield, then was pulled back into the car as the engine came bursting in crushing my right leg, but keeping me from being fully ejected from the car. My face now resting on the passenger side dash in a pool of blood, with the cold air rushing in and snow beginning to hit my face, my fight for life began.

Once the police and fire rescue got on the scene, they began working feverishly to get me out of the car and to the hospital. They had little time because of the severity of my injuries, I was bleeding to death. My stomach was hard and filled with blood, my face was peeled off like from the slash of a bears paw, my arm snapped, my leg crushed and God only knew what else….

At the scene police and rescue reported they did not expect me to make it to the hospital, let alone through the hour upon hours of surgery that would be required to piece me back together. Yet, they never quit, they never slowed down. It took these amazing people 20 minutes from the time of my accident to the time I arrived at Pontiac Osteopathic Hospital (POH). In my mind they were the true heroes, they were the ones that save this unknown person’s life. As I arrived at POH, the EMT’s reported that I had coded one time in the ambulance, but they were able to jump my heart back into rhythm. I had extensive unknown internal injuries, my right leg was crushed and my left arm was compounded above the elbow. More importantly, my vitals were weak at best….

Before entering surgery I coded again….Beeeeppp…….Flatline……this time the doctors struggled to bring me back….

As I am waiting for surgery, in a cold and very bright hallway I realize that I am no longer in my body. I can hear voices, beeping sounds and light all around. Then I’m looking down from above….I can see myself, my face is almost recognizable, there are tubes all over, bandages covering what appears to be my face. My skin appearing paper white, with blood covering most of what I can see…am I alive…is this it? I am no longer in pain, I am free from pain, and free from the binds of life….then darkness comes again….
The next thing I remember is something that is very hard to describe, it’s like flashes in time, a flow of thoughts and feelings that don’t seem familiar, yet are very comforting. It’s almost like I am floating on a cloud surrounded by pure energy, nothing like I have ever seen. There are things happening all around me, like little movie clips.

It’s during this time where I begin to question everything….

Growing up my mom and dad raised my brother and me as Christians. We were baptized and taught that Jesus was the son of God…Yet here I am in a plan of existence that does not fit with what I have learned.

That is in no way saying Christianity is wrong or that it is right. It is only saying that what filling my heart at that moment was beyond what we are taught. What I saw, what I felt was energy, not male or female, not human or creature, but just energy. The vision that has filled my thoughts since that day is of a giant ball of energy with bands of light emanating in every direction – I am not exactly sure what I was seeing, but I felt the presence of something much greater than myself.

I began to see that religions, all religions have truths, but they also have the human element of story-telling, to help us make sense of the unsensable.

If you look at religion whether it is Christianity, Hinduism, Judaism, or Muslim they all teach similar lessons; lessons of love, respect, and honor and they all tell a story. This story is something I will touch on in later chapters, but for now just remember the idea of stories being told.
A little over 2 minutes pasted before they got sign of life again….

12 hours of surgery later, I was alive…in a coma…but alive. My spleen had been removed as it was in 8 pieces, my heart severely bruised, lungs collapsed, Kidney’s and Liver were lacerated, digestive track shut down, my spine was broken, 900 stitches in my face, 300 in my ear. Doctors were not certain I would make it through the night.

The next three days were touch and go, fighting infections, high fevers and a body decimated from the impact, I fought.

8 days after entering POH, I awoke, in more pain than I can even begin to explain, uncertain as to where I was or what happened. I was being told a little bit at a time how bad my injuries were and that the expectations of recovery were not good. Would I be able to walk again, talk, work, be a kid again…would I ever play hockey again? There were so many questions filling my head, and there were no answers. I learned that my right arm was partially paralyzed, my back was in bad shape (I would later learn many years after the accident that my L2 and L3 vertebrae had been fractured) but the doctors could not tell me how bad it was or if I would walk again because of the damage to my right leg and my back. Question after question came up and again each question was answered with an, “I do not know” or even worse, a “no”. I started to slip into a depression

Then there was a story on the news that caught my attention, Detroit Lions Football player Paralyzed on November 18th 1991, was on the news. Mike Utley played right guard for the Detroit Lions and while playing a home game against the then L.A. Rams, went head first into the turf and broke his neck, fracturing his 6th and 7th Cervical Vertebrae.

The News was not good at first, they were reporting that Mike was told he would never walk again. They were showing these 300lbs. men in tears walking into his room. Then….those same giants came out of his room laughing and smiling.

I struggled to make sense of this, was the news different, did those players learn something that wasn’t being reported? Was Mike going to be okay….The answer was simple…no news had changed. What did change was how Mike was handling the situation, as he did when they carted him off the field giving the crowd the thumbs up! Telling the Silverdome Crowd he was going to be okay, when in his heart of hearts he knew differently. Here again Mike was being the optimist, the hero I have grown to know.

When the doctor’s first walked into Mikes room to tell him the new of his injuries, Mikes answer was refreshing, at least to me.

As the Doctor walks in he gets Mike’s attention. Mike I have some news for you that may be hard to hear, but it is what it is….Mike you broke your C6 and C7 vertebrae, paralyzing you from the chest down. Mike you will never walk again, I am sorry.”

Mike’s answer will forever resound in my memory….“Don’t ever tell someone that they can’t do something!” was Mike’s response. That one newscast changed my life forever! For whatever reasons, Mike’s words hit me, and never left. I soaked in his energy, his inspiration and never looked back.

Rules for Greatness

The rules for greatness
Lion Heart Motivation
Brian Frick

RESPECT yourself, RESPECT others. Love yourself. Risk more than is required. Learn more than is normal.

Be comfortable being uncomfortable.

Focus on your future, not your failure.
Strive for knowledge. Know your values. Live from those values. Know your actions speak louder than your roar. Be aware, but courageous. Be a leader by example, BE REAL, BE Honest. Love. Laugh, and BE kind.
Speak the truth. Plan…for the expected and the unexpected.
Just do it! Always have a dream and never stop reaching for it!
Breathe, stop, challenge, and change your life. Practice! Practice! Practice!