The People, Process, & Progress Podcast - The Art of Letting Go

Episode Date: June 1, 2026

There is a fine line between helping someone and stealing their growth. On this episode of the Own, Move, Anchor podcast, we dive into the discipline of stepping back so the people we lead, mentor, and parent can find their own grit. From the battlefields of Glory to the BJJ mats, the boardroom, and the limits of medical intervention in EMS, we break down why true leadership means letting go of control.Key Takeaways:OWN: Redefining fatherhood boundaries and corporate leadership. Why over-managing creates bottlenecks, and how to transition to solutions by exception.MOVE: Embracing the grind of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Understanding the "Breathe, Frame, Survive" framework and using the Seven Pillars to get back to center when heavy emotions break through.ANCHOR: Building "2 AM" friendships by exception, grounding yourself in faith, and learning the ultimate power of presence during my father's final months.Connect with the Show:Share this episode with a leader, parent, or friend who needs it today.Rate and review us on Apple Podcasts and Spotify!

There's a brutal honest scene in the 1989 Civil War film Glory. It's one of my favorite movies ever. There's a scene where Sergeant McKay, who's the drill sergeant, is running hand-to-hand combat drill, and he's pushing the men, right? He targets a young, educated soldier, Thomas, calling him a prissy little squirrel, and slamming the rifle of his butt into his stomach and face after he tries to have him attack him and stab him. Thomas falls to the ground, right, writhing in pain, sobbing. Krohn Shaw steps in, pulling the sergeant aside to question his harsh training methods.

He tells the sergeant he can speak freely and the sergeant looked right at the colonel and says, the boy's your friend, is he? And the corner replies, yes, we grew up together. And Mokey looked back in him and says, let him grow up some more. That line's been rattling around in my head lately because as a leader, a parent and a protector, my instinct is always to jump in and stop the struggle. But the real challenge in life isn't learning how to carry the weight for people. It's having the discipline to step back so that people we care about can find their

own strength. Own your mind, move your body, anchor your spirit. This is Own Move Anchor with Kevin Pennell. Here we focus on practical leadership, clear thinking, physical readiness, and staying steady when life and work get heavy. Drawing from emergency response, health care, project leadership in everyday life, each episode connects real world experience to actions you can apply immediately. Three pillars, one powerful you. You can find more at Own Move Anchor.com, and if you're getting value from the show, like, subscribe, and leave a review wherever you listen to podcasts. Let's get into it. Welcome back to the show. Today we're digging into what actually means to own your role without taking ownership of everyone else's growth. I first started noticing this loop at home with my

sons. When your kids are young, you jump in, right? You saw the physical and mental challenges. You own their safety, but as we've gotten older, I've had to learn to sit back. I watch for signs of frustration now and when positive troubleshooting, it looks like it's about to become kind of a toxic burden. I don't take over. I just ask, would you like some help? And I let them decide. If it's a time sensitive thing, I might ask a little sooner, but I try and let the choice remain theirs. And look, if you have to hover too much in the workplace, it's the exact same story, right? If you sit down on all your team members' meetings, jump into problem solve, you create reactionary order takers, not free-thinking innovators. I see it all the time when leaders

say I need to talk to X or Y for a decision when the choice could have been made right there on the call to remove the bottleneck. I used to hand my team's strong. I used to hand my team's templates because I knew they worked. Now, I give them room to create their own solutions. Impactful outcomes can be planned in many ways. What matters is good team communication, building plans together, and absolute clarity on execution and expectations. As leaders, we share experience, ask growth questions, and provide solutions by exception, not as a knee-jerk reaction. As a husband and a father, I love carrying the burden of protecting and teaching. At work, I carry my team's burden by owning our PMO standards and asking how I could have led better when things

go sideways. But carrying the weight doesn't mean suffocating the people under you. Sometimes owning your leadership means stepping out of the way. To do that without breaking, you have to move. Movement is medicine. I believe that down to my core, but the true movement requires understanding the grind. Let's talk about Brazilian jiu-jitsu for a second. There's a purple belt. When new white belts ask me for the secret because everything feels awful and painful. I give them the basics. Breathe, frame, survive. I can't transfer my years of mad hours into their body, right? Zoon Jiu-Jitsu is a legitimate combat sport because it can only be learned by doing, failing, and doing it all over again until muscle memory and hard lessons to take over. I learned the absolute limits of control during my years

in emergency medical services. The human body is a miracle machine, right? But it's pretty straightforward. keep the fluids in, stabilize the displaced parts, check the mind, keep air moving. But you quickly learn that some bodies are too broken or just too worn out from life to be fixed. The same is true for the human psyche. To survive the weight of what the world throws at us, I rely on the seven pillars, ownership, mindfulness, movement, boundaries, connection, sleep, and faith. But let's be real. You can be firing all cylinders across all seven pillars and still cry at a random commercial. You can still feel anxiety of nowhere or feel anger, run through you over old thoughts. That doesn't mean the pillars aren't working.

It just means you're human. Some feelings break through the armor. Address it at the moment, use your tools and move right back to center. That brings us to anchor. As of age, I've stopped trying to have every friend online or in real life. I build friendships by exception. My circle was made of 2 a.m. friends. The kind of friends where, if I called them in a crisis, they'd ask,

whose car are we taking? Quality over quantity. But my ultimate anchor is my faith. Faith is my foundation. It's what helps me unload the massive mental load of life. Grief, fear, anger, wondering what death is really like. I've shaken my fist at the sky and been on my knees begging for God's help. He's always been there, even when I'm not.

when I wasn't listening. For the past few years, I've truly listened and it has changed my life. And I needed that anchor more than ever during the last two months of my father's life. He was full of pain, not eating, barely any physical strength left. No one could stop death. Only medicine could help his physical pain. And in that room, my fixer instincts were useless. My father didn't need a manager or a solution. Only prayers and loved helped him and our family through his final passing. I had to lay down the need to control, anchor myself in faith, and just stay present until he moved through it. Whether it's your son at the kitchen table, your team at the office, or a loved one carrying a heavy burden, give them room to grow. Take care of your pillars, tighten your circle, and anchor deep.

If this episode resonated with you, do me a favor. Share it with one leader, one parent, or one friend who needs to hear this message today. And head over to Apple Podcast or Spotify and leave us a review. It's how we grow this community and keep delivering these tools. Remember everybody. Own your mind. Move your body. Anchor your spirit.

Godspeed, y'all.