The Neck Layer: Deploy Your Inner Periscope!

What's Been Quietly Scanning for Safety to Surface?

Welcome Back, Submarine Captains!

This week, we're diving into the Neck Layer—remember, we're going head to tail on this rebel onion—that crucial part of your onion that's been quietly reaching toward the light, sending up signals, waiting for the coast to be clear. It was described to me as the inner periscope: your authentic self operating like a submarine, cautiously scanning the surface for safety before deciding whether it's time to emerge. "Where I am going, you cannot follow" - Captain Ramius (Hunt for Red October reference, do your best Sean Connery voice).

The Persistent Rebel Living Inside Your Submarine

Your neck layer represents the parts of you that absolutely refuse to be buried—your persistent passions, the dreams or ideas that keep tapping you on the shoulder at 1:33 AM, and the interests that keep coming back into your life, no matter how many times you try to ignore them or how often life tells you to "be practical," "think about your future," or even your inner voice insists, "Come on, you have a family to think about!"

This is the layer where your authentic self has been quietly observing, taking notes, waiting—and to be honest, screaming into my pillow occasionally. It's been watching for the right moment, the right conditions, the right amount of courage to finally surface and say, "Hey, you've got this!"

Stop waiting for the perfect day or the perfect moment. Take THIS day, THIS moment, and start that something. Hey, start a newsletter, just begin. You've been ready. Go. Up periscope! Launch the torpedo!

My Personal Periscope Story: The Artist Who Was a Freight Forwarder

Let me tell you about my own submarine story. From as early as I can remember, I was an artist. I drew constantly since I was 3 years old, went to art schools because my teacher liked a palm tree I drew in basic art class, and I got accepted, and eventually even got a degree in graphic design later in life. But here's the thing about family businesses—they have their own gravitational pull.

My father built a successful freight forwarding company, and that became our lifestyle. While my periscope was sending up signals about art and creativity, the practical world (or just my father) was saying, "Study finance. Learn Transway. This is your future." Or my favorite: my dad would say, "This will all be yours," and pay me $300 a week. And some days, he's like the head of the mafia, he would shake my hand and slip me a couple of hundred-dollar bills when he saw I was doing, in his eyes, a good job. So I did what was expected. I took business courses in college, never finished, and found myself working in the family company from age 11 to about 27. It was child labor, but to this day I'm a damn good forklift operator.

Eleven years old. Let that sink in. My periscope was barely above water, but it was there, quietly scanning, waiting—dying inside a little every day.

For sixteen years, I worked on and off in that company, moving cargo, managing logistics, doing what was expected. But that persistent rebel—my neck layer—never stopped sending up signals. It silently whispered through late-night sketches, through daydreams about doing graphic design and art, through that nagging feeling that something deeper was calling.

Finally, my soul couldn't take it anymore. At 27, I went back for that graphic design degree. In retrospect, I wish I hadn't taken on those student loans, but life's surprises have a way of leading us exactly where we need to be.

The Current Periscope Mission: This Newsletter

And here's the beautiful irony: even with this newsletter, my Periscope is at work. Weekly deep dives aren't easy; fear is always present. This deep work transcends AI—ChatGPT structures and corrects the grammar (I need that), but I still have to add the soul, and I must live the example and make this authentic. Still, something calls me to do it, and it feels good, especially creating custom illustrations that bring me inexplicable joy—for real, if this doesn't resonate, at least I did the art.

Scanning for Your Own Periscope Signals

Your periscope has been operating longer than you think. It shows up in what you consume when no one's watching, the conversations that light you up, the activities you return to despite being told they're "not practical," and the dreams that won't die no matter how many times you bury them.

The Courage to Surface

Here's what I've learned about periscopes: they're not just for observation—they're preparation for surfacing. Your neck layer has been gathering intelligence (maybe a little too obsessively), waiting for the right moment to help your authentic self emerge. Funny thing is, you don't even realize you're searching for just that—to be authentic, now more than ever in an AI world (it's creative, for sure; but the line is blurred).

The beautiful thing about persistent rebels is that they're persistent for a reason. They keep showing up because they're essential to who you are. They're not going away because they're not supposed to go away.

Your Mission This Week

Pay attention to your periscope. Notice when it's scanning, what it's scanning for, and what signals it's sending you. Don't judge it, don't shut it down—just observe it with curiosity. Ever meditated? Just observe, don't try to control it.

That persistent rebel inside your submarine? You've been preparing for this moment your entire life. Maybe it's time to listen to what it's been trying to tell you.

For now, honor that periscope. It's been working overtime to keep your authentic self alive.

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." —Anaïs Nin

Being Coached Layers: When Your Inner Periscope Signals a Friend in Need

Dr. Goodman recounted calling his friend and coaching associate, Mark Sanna, for business. Dr. Goodman was initially unaware that Mark had just sent photos of a severe rash and was also facing significant emotional stress. Father's Day was coming up, and his father had passed not long ago. On top of that, he was dealing with stress at work and a looming speech he felt too foggy-headed to address.

Mark's "periscope" was clearly up; he assumed Dr. Goodman was calling about his health crisis, demonstrating an urgent, unaddressed need to look at what was "ahead of him." This underscored a key lesson: feelings buried deep inside never die, always finding a way to surface and demand attention.

Bookshelf Peeled - Your Periscope’s True Mission

An audiobook I read a while back deeply resonated with the idea of our inner periscope: "The Element is the meeting point between natural aptitude and personal passion. When people arrive at the Element, they feel most themselves, most inspired, and achieve at their highest levels. Finding this place is essential for transforming education, business, and communities to meet the challenges of living and succeeding in the twenty-first century.”

Your Element is where what you love and what you're naturally wired for collide in glorious rebellion. It's the core layer—where your inner rebel finally yells, "This is me!" and everything else starts making sense. The periscope doesn't rise for just anything; it's scanning for that intersection where passion and ability say, "All systems go!" That's your Element. That's your mission. And spoiler: it's been calling you home the whole time. —Adapted from The Element by Sir Ken Robinson

Design Rebel: Mini-Periscope in Action!

This week, the Periscope submarine theme truly took hold! I channeled that inspiration into creating new visuals using Leonardo.ai, specifically with the Leonardo Phoenix 1.0 effect. It took a lot of prompting and tweaking, but the results were worth it. I then brought them to life in Wondershare Filmora with my own voice-over, all fueled by the newsletter's "JUST DO IT!!!" spirit. Just a rebel onion in his submarine, bringing ideas to the surface! YouTube link here.

Weekly Inspired Insights I liked this week:

This week, for moments when social interactions feel overwhelming, I turn to Alan Watts. He beautifully encourages us to let go of control and trust the natural rhythm of the universe. It's about embracing life's organic unfolding and allowing your authentic self to emerge.

P.S. If this resonates with you, share it with someone whose periscope might need permission to surface. We're all submarines in this ocean together, scanning for the courage to be ourselves.