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“Average leaders have a quote. Good leaders have a plan. Exceptional leaders have a system.”- Urban Meyer

 

J.A.W Franklin is anybody, like everybody. He didn’t see himself as exceptional or complete, but he determined that significance, identity, power and purpose would lead him to wholeness. He discovered life through heromotive lenses and the wealth that causes heroic performance.

 

Heromotive is rooted in the idea that giving is a universal principle. Every breath we accept requires us to give a breath into the atmosphere. It’s a lifecycle. When we accept heromotive we must give with common purpose demonstrating heromotive. It’s also a lifecycle. We will show that everyone has heromotive. How each of us give heromotive best, demonstrates a unique wealth that never fails. It causes us to have heroic performance in any area to experience new life beyond the limitations of our natural abilities.

 

Life through heromotive lenses is a unique thinkscape experience that elevates self-perception with the understanding and belief that sovereign good is the personification of unlimited creative ability in our thinking and unlimited goodwill in our care and forgiveness for ourselves and others working together, alive again and at work over all things in us. These lenses affirm heromotive in us and help us rest knowing that when we trust that this power is present and available we can demonstrate wealth that never fails. This is heroic performance that makes us more than human. We are heroes.

 

 

Acknowlegements

 

 

 

I am thankful beyond words for my family. My life is better because of the good, the bad and the ugly we have endured on our journey together.

 

 

Wake Up

 

Chapter 1

 

 

Most everyone knew him as an architect. He hated that. His profession was not his identity. It was his default career choice for the last eight years. That’s fifty-six in dog years he thought. He started his career awkwardly with his head down, ready to work. When he finally looked up he had perks, a 401k and a desire for something more.

 

His career was a necessary distraction. He earned enough to be respectable and responsible, but not enough to erase his dreams. His career was predictable. His hopes were not. They were inspired by Kim’s story. A story he read in college many years ago; when he discovered his wealth. It was the author in him, his character gift. His ability to use words, but not just on paper. He was able to write on the hearts of the people he reached.

 

Back then he created the author’s name by using the initials J.A. from his first and middle name. He added W to create the initials J.A.W. He used these initials with his last name to rebrand himself as J.A.W Franklin, insisting that everyone call him Jaws or Jaws Franklin back in college. The author answered to both names.

 

All these years later he still used the name J.A.W Franklin. He couldn't remember the last time he used his given name. He never liked it. He blamed his parents for that. He often wondered why they gave him such a notorious first name. He remembered how his parents would try to defend their name decision by saying his first name came from the bible, but that was no consolation for Jaws. There were many other name choices in the bible.

 

His mother hated the name Jaws. She refused to use it. His father also disliked it, but he was less vocal. His parents called him Franklin as a compromise. They didn’t know that the name Jaws encouraged him and inspired his character gift; especially when he felt invisible.

 

Kim’s story inspired him in college, but the inspiration was lost after graduation. His career track took precedent over his character gift.  The author was dormant but the name remained alive.

 

A few months ago he was cleaning his apartment when he came across Kim’s story. He stopped to pour over the pages reliving each sentence. It excited him. He remembered the feelings it inspired years ago. It was electric.

 

He carved out daily opportunities to read her story in the quiet of his apartment in the months that followed. Each time was a new experience. It was like hidden treasure. It was a wakeup call. He could almost recite the story. It ignited his dreams again.

 

In the midst of this experience he decided to write a book entitled Basic Hero Training. It was his challenge to himself and his character gift in the quiet of his apartment. He was writing with more than ink on paper.

 

Kim’s story was alive again in him, but this time there was something different, something he had never seen before, something fundamental and life changing that he missed in college. He called it the lifecycle pie. His new discovery removed all his limitations.

 

Today he was thinking about Kim’s story as he sat staring at the screen of his laptop.  His home was quiet like any other weekday, with the exception of the occasional click from the pump in the fish tank next to his desk. Earlier today he had planned on working on Basic Hero Training. Now it was almost 11a.m. and he hadn't written anything. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had not eaten breakfast. Kim’s story was the catalyst for his book. It was his meditation. He thought about how it made him feel, taking the time to examine his own feelings. The story was so clear in his mind.

 

 

Hello Kim

 

Chapter 2

 

 

Kim never thought of herself as a hero, not before that day on the sidewalk. It was cold and rainy. She was bundled in her blue raincoat. Her hood covered her head because she didn't have an umbrella. She paced the sidewalk, wet and shivering. Her eyes looked up and down the city block with expectation. She could feel the fatigue in her feet, her legs, and her back. She was looking down the sidewalk when she thought she saw him in the distance. She stared with her focus on the man approaching. It was him. Her heart pounded in her chest. She swallowed hard. He was walking briskly toward her. She had been emotional all morning. The rain on her face disguised her tears.

 

The man coming toward her was dressed for the weather. He used his umbrella like a rudder to navigate the sidewalk as he approached. It was pulled low to his head, protecting him from the rain and anyone in his path.

 

“Help me……” she said softly knowing he couldn’t hear her. She took a deep breath. She needed his help. He needed to hear her. “Help me please, my husband is dead!” Kim said emphatically moving toward him. The man with the umbrella was one of the elders of Capital city. He routinely walked down this street around noon time. Her husband use to work for the elders.

 

“Please help me?” she pleaded again in desperation. She was nervous. Her voice trembled when she spoke. She tried her best not to be too forward, but she was failing badly.

 

She had been waiting for him nervously since 10a.m. She convinced herself that he could not refuse her if he saw her face to face. He was known as a man with great resources. At least that's what everyone believed.

 

She said, “if I can just have a moment to explain sir,” not hiding her emotions. “You knew my husband. He was a man with great reverence for your beliefs.”

 

Her thoughts were racing. Fear caused her to feel less confident. He was almost facing her on the sidewalk. “Now his creditors are trying to bankrupt me” she declared.

 

The elder paused. He recognized Kim, but this encounter was an odd surprise. He knew her husband. He mourned his death. That was two years ago he thought. He lifted his umbrella as they met on the sidewalk. His yellow rain coat was buttoned tightly to his neck. She heard him clear his throat with a rumble but he didn’t speak immediately. He stood there silently for a few seconds as he thought about the best way to respond to her. When their eyes met again, he asked, “how can I help you? Tell me, what do you have in your house?”

 

She stood there frozen, arrested by his inquiry. Was he asking her for money? She was a little confused. She hoped for his sympathy because of her late husband. She remembered her husband talking about the elders fondly. That’s why she wasn’t offended by his questions, just surprised.

 

The elder’s questions floated in the air while she wrestled with her thoughts. Her fear caused her to question her plan of getting his help today. Fear always did that. It caused her to overthink. It caused her to doubt herself. She tried hard to overcome this feeling. Her nervousness caused lightning strikes in the pit of her stomach. She told herself not to trust fear.

 

Kim was thinking about his questions and daydreaming about her answers when she heard him ask again. She gathered her thoughts quickly and answered, “I have nothing in my house sir, nothing there at all,” but after a second thought she remembered her husband saying that everyone has heromotive.

 

Her husband learned about heromotive from the elders. He told her that everyone has it but not everyone uses it. Kim said, “I have nothing, nothing but heromotive”

 

The elder’s expression softened. His eyes widened in response to her answer. She noticed his expression change and felt encouraged. It made her hopeful.

 

He said “heromotive is not a talent. It’s an identity and genius level ability.”

 

He turned his head to look down the rainy sidewalk. He asked

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