Quick housekeeping: I’m teaming up with Marcin & Amit from Mission Craft Cocktails and Elissa from WeGotThis.org for an action-packed, insight-driven SXSW panel called ‘Stop Saying You’re Mission-Driven. Prove It.’ If you’re a founder, operator, or non-profit leader, you’ll leave the session with a blueprint to truly call what you’re building ‘mission-driven.’ Help us by voting for it — community voting ends on August 23rd.
The Conversation That Can Change Everything
There is a particular kind of pain that is easy to miss.
It is part of the person who looks like they’re doing fine. The person we believe is put together: great job, loving family, supportive friends, responsibilities, tons of hobbies, experiences, etc.
But inside, something is breaking.
That is where Jason Senzon found himself nearly nine years ago.
When Jason joined me on the podcast, he didn’t begin with his career, his company, or a polished version of his story. He described himself as a family man whose life looked like it was working while, privately, he was trapped in addiction, isolation, anxiety, and a growing distance from the people he loved most.
Then came a moment of truth.
At 1:30 in the morning on September 7, 2017, Jason woke his wife and told her: “I need help. It’s time.”
That sentence changed everything.
Asking for help is strength
For many people, especially men, asking for help can feel like you’re ‘weak.’ We are taught, directly or indirectly, to keep it together, power through, solve the problem ourselves, and avoid becoming a burden.
But Jason’s story offers a different definition of courage or willingness.
Courage is not pretending nothing hurts.
Courage is saying the thing you are afraid to say.
Courage is admitting that whatever you have been doing is no longer working.
Jason went to treatment for 28 days, then spent another month in a sober living house before returning home. At that time, his children were one and four years old. He now talks about the hope that they will know him as a sober father one day at a time.
That phrase matters: one day at a time.
Not a lifetime of promises and empty platitudes. Not a perfectly mapped path. Just the next right action.
Sometimes the next right action is a call. A meeting. A text. A conversation with a friend. A decision to tell someone, “I’m not okay.”
We all carry things quietly
Jason made an observation that reaches beyond recovery: many of us become experts at suppressing things; not allowing them to come out.
We might call it stress. We might call it being busy. We might convince ourselves that we are simply tired, distracted, irritable, or overwhelmed.
But unresolved anxiety, grief, shame, fear, and pain have a way of demanding attention eventually.
Jason spoke about feeling uncomfortable in his own skin long before his addiction took hold. On the outside, he was succeeding socially, academically, and athletically. Yet inside, anxiety was always taking hold, and he did not know how to talk about it.
That is why conversations about mental health cannot begin only when there is a crisis.
They have to become part of everyday life.
They have to happen at home with our kids, with our partners, with our friends, and with the people at work who may be quietly carrying more than we realize.
A simple question can make room for someone else’s reality:
“How are you really doing?”
Not “How are things?”
Not “Everything good?”
Not the question we ask while preparing to move on.
The real question. And then the willingness to stay long enough to hear the answer.
What coffee has to do with recovery
Jason and his co-founder met in recovery. Together, they started Wyndcrofte Coffee around a simple idea: vulnerable conversations often start over a cup of coffee.
Coffee is not the solution to addiction, anxiety, depression, loneliness, or any of life’s more difficult realities. But it can create a setting for something important: connection.
It gives two people a reason to sit down. It slows the day down for a few minutes. It offers a familiar ritual that can make an unfamiliar conversation feel a little more possible.
Wyndcrofte is a for-profit company, but Jason and his co-founder built charitable giving into the business from the beginning. The Caron Treatment Centers and Release Recovery Foundation are their first charitable partners. Rather than wait until the company was bigger or more profitable, they began supporting nonprofit partners that help people access treatment and recovery resources.
That choice says something about the kind of business they want to build.
It’s about great tasting coffee, but there’s more.
It could help people feel less alone by fostering connection.
Service without a scorecard
One of the most resonant ideas from our conversation was Jason’s view of service.
He said that if we help someone only because we expect something in return, we missed the point.
Service is not transactional. It is not a networking tactic. It is not a way to create a debt that someone else must repay.
It is a decision to do the next right thing because it is the right thing.
That can be hard in a world that constantly measures outcomes, followers, revenue, influence, and returns. But some of the most meaningful things don’t have an ROI attached to them.
You may never know what happens after you answer the phone.
You may not know whether the person you encouraged to seek help actually did.
You may never learn that your honesty permitted someone else to be honest, too.
Still, it matters.
If someone comes to mind, reach out
As you read this, someone may have come to mind.
Maybe it is a friend who has been quieter than usual. A family member who keeps saying they are “just busy.” A colleague who seems fine but has changed. Or maybe the person who came to mind is you.
You do not need the perfect words.
Try one of these:
- “I’ve been thinking about you. How are you, really?”
- “You don’t have to explain everything, but I’m here if you want to talk.”
- “Is there something you’ve been carrying alone?”
- “Would you want to grab a coffee this week?”
- “I care about you. You do not have to figure this out by yourself.”
One conversation may not solve everything. Jason is clear about that. But it can reduce the weight someone has been carrying. It can interrupt isolation. It can create a bridge to the next right action.
And sometimes, that is where change begins.
If this piece made you think of someone, share it with them. Not because you have all the answers, but because a small act of connection can remind them they are not alone.
The reframe on courage is the part worth sitting with. Most people treat holding it together as the strong move, when the actual weight-bearing act is saying the true sentence out loud. "One day at a time" works precisely because it doesn't ask you to have the whole path solved before you take the first step.