I grew up right up the hill from Sunset Cliffs in Point Loma, next to Point Loma Nazarene College. And this week, as I walked the edge of those famous cliffs, something unexpected happened: the nostalgia hit me hard.
Not the “look how far I’ve come” kind. The kind that feels like a summons.
I remembered who I was as a kid. Scared sometimes. Dodging raindrops, looking for the sun. Thinking about Jonathan Livingston Seagull – not just flying, but learning why you fly. And then I remembered the one thing these very cliffs provided for me:
They gave me a stage.
The First Auditorium I ever gave a speech at was the Pacific Ocean.
I would walk down from the very top of the cliff, into an alcove where the sound of the waves bounced back like an echo chamber. I’d stand there, look out at the ocean, and imagine an audience filling the space in front of me. I’d take a breath, survey my invisible crowd, and belt out as loud as I could: “Good Evening Ladies and Gentleman”
The waves would crash. The seagulls would circle. And for a moment, I wasn’t a scared kid anymore. I was a speaker. A performer. Someone with something to say.
That cliff wasn’t just geography. It was my first training ground for courage. For clarity. For command.
Where was your first stage? The place no one else saw, but you practiced anyway. A car, a bedroom mirror, a park bench? Hold that thought.
Why the Nostalgia Now?
Here’s the thing about nostalgia: it’s not just looking backward. It’s often a signal that your past self has something your future self needs to remember.
So why is this showing up this week? Maybe because the work being done now – building organizations for veterans, creating nutrition and wellness ventures, mentoring young people – requires the same thing that kid on the cliff was practicing:
Showing up. Speaking up. Not waiting for permission.
Ask yourself: What’s the work in your life right now that requires you to speak up, even if you’re scared? Go practice find a stage and belt it out
For me right now its “Ladies and Gentlemen” to “Let’s Build a Future”
That cliff taught a lesson that still holds:
Public speaking isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence. It’s about showing up even when you’re scared. Even when the only applause is the sound of waves.
And now the audience is bigger. The stakes are higher most important young people needing mentorship, not just inspiration. Families counting on systems that work.
The ocean was the first audience. But it won’t be the last.
If something is stirring as these words are read, maybe it’s your cliff calling you back.
- Where did you first find your voice?
- What stage did you practice on when no one was watching?
- And who needs you to use that voice now?
The world doesn’t need more people who stayed quiet. It needs more people who remember where they first said “Ladies and Gentlemen” and decide to say it again – for something that matters thats important and they need to say it louder, clearer, and on a bigger and bigger stage.
The Challenge
- Find your cliff. Where can you practice your voice this week?
- Speak up. Share one insight, one story, one truth that matters to you.
- Lift someone. Use your voice to help another person be their best version of themselves.
Tell your cliff story. Not for yourself. For the kid who needs to hear that their stage is waiting.
And then get back on it.
The audience is ready.
