← Passion Struck with John R. Miles
Passion Struck with John R. Miles
How to Matter to the People Who Matter Most | EP 705 w/ John R. Miles
00:24:44
Loading summary
Transcript12 lines
- [00:00]
A
Coming up next on Passion Struck, the people who matter most to us will not remember how busy we were. They will remember how we made them feel, when it mattered, when we were there, when we were reachable, whether they felt seen in the moments that counted most. Right now, many relationships are not breaking. They're thinning. Not from conflict, not from lack of love, but from the absence disguised as normal life. Today's episode is about why how you show up for the people who matter most may be the most important decision you make and why you don't get unlimited chances to make it right. Welcome to Passion Struck. I'm your host, John Miles. This is the show where we explore the art of human flourishing and what it truly means to live like it matters. Each week, I sit down with change makers, creators, scientists, and everyday heroes to decode the human experience and uncover the tools that help us lead with meaning, heal what hurts, and pursue the fullest expression of who we're capable of becoming. Whether you're designing your future, developing as a leader, or seeking deeper alignment in your life, this show is your invitation to grow with purpose and act with intention. Because the secret to a life of deep purpose, connection and impact is choosing to live like you matter. Welcome to Passion Struck. This is episode 705, and we're continuing our series, the season of Becoming, that fragile, disorienting and necessary stretch between the life we've known and the one that's calling us forward. Throughout this series, we've explored becoming through courage, disruption, discomfort, leadership, and compassion with guests who've shown us something essential. That transformation rarely happens in isolation. It happens in relationship. Today, I want to name something that sits at the quiet center of our lives. Even though most of us rarely say it out loud, think about the moments when you felt truly close to someone. Not admired, not praised, not needed in some practical way, but deeply, undeniably close. Those moments almost never come from grand gestures. They come from small ones. Someone listening without rushing to reply. Someone remembering the detail you thought no one noticed. Someone staying present when they could have drifted away. What ties those moments together is a feeling not just that you were loved, but that your presence actually made a difference. I call this feeling relational mattering. It's not about being impressive or indispensable. It's the quiet, embodied sense that you are significant to someone else simply because you are you. It's where love stops being an idea and becomes something you feel in your bones. It's how belonging moves from a concept on a page to to lived experience. And here's what we often miss. Relational mattering doesn't just feel good. It shapes who we become. When people feel that they truly matter to those closest to them, they grow more secure, more resilient, and far more willing to show up as themselves. However, when that sense fades, people don't just feel lonely. They start to shrink, to perform or to slowly disappear inside the very relationships they cherish. What's so surprising is how this sense of mattering actually grows. It doesn't come from big declarations or dramatic rescues. It comes from presence, and this time of year highlights that truth more than ever. As many of us move through Hanukkah and into the Christmas season, we do something increasingly rare. We spend extended, unhurried time with the people who matter most. We gather around tables. We return to familiar places. We slip back into old rhythms and old roles. And those moments around the glow of candles or the warmth of a fireplace, we're reminded, sometimes painfully, how deeply we need to feel seen, known and valued, how much we long to truly belong, and how fragile that sense of longing can become when life pulls us apart the rest of the year. That quiet longing is exactly what today's conversation is about. Thank you for choosing Passion Struck and choosing me to be your host and guide on your journey to creating an intentional life. Now let that journey begin. Before we go deeper today, let me take you back to a memory that still teaches me just how powerful simple presence can be. When my kids were still young, we used to escape to a playground on Signal Mountain outside of Chattanooga, Tennessee, called the Pumpkin Patch. If you've ever been there, you know it's magic. Wooden castles, rope bridges, long slides, hidden corners. The kind of place where kids don't just play, they vanish into pure joy. I remember being there like it was yesterday with my children, my nieces and nephews, running, climbing, laughing, completely lost in the moment. No phone in my hand, no agenda in my head. No sense that we needed to be anywhere else. Just play. What stays with me now isn't only how happy they were. It's how free I felt in those hours. I wasn't managing life. I wasn't solving problems. I wasn't carrying tomorrow's weight. I was simply there. And because I was there, fully, unhurriedly, they felt it. Years later, that same feeling returned when my siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles would all end up outside playing a gloriously chaotic game of family football. No real teams, no official score. Just laughter. Endless arguments over imaginary first downs. Someone always yelling that they were wide open. Someone else always cheating just a little. Those moments mattered not because they were perfect, but because everyone was fully in them. Present, unselfconscious, Alive, together. And here's what I've been reflecting on lately. Those moments that we cherish decades later aren't defined by what we accomplished. They're defined by how present we were, how available we were to one another, how little stood between us and the people we love. Which brings us to a hard but necessary question. If presence is what makes those moments matter, what happens when presence becomes optional? Before we go there, I want to pause on something that's been hitting me hard lately. Those memories I just shared. The playground, the backyard football games. They stay with me. Not because they were perfect, but because presence was effortless in them. And every week I hear from listeners who say things like, I felt that story in my chest. But how do I actually create more moments like that in my own life? That's exactly why we create free companion workbooks for episodes just like this one. They're simple, intentional tools designed to help you move from insight to live change. Reflection questions to uncover where presence is thinning in your closest relationships. Small Presence practices you can start tonight. Prompts to notice how mattering feels when you give it and when you receive it. Gentle challenges to rebuild those social muscles we've let quiet down because becoming more present isn't automatic. It's a choice. We get to practice. Hey, passion struck listeners.
- [07:56]
B
There are supplements, and they're game changers. Mitrepura Gummies from Timeline are in a league of their own. They're the first longevity gummy with urolithin A, a powerful ingredient shown to boost cellular energy and improve muscle strength by 12% in just 16 weeks. And I'm telling you, I feel the difference. More energy, faster recovery, sharper focus. All from just two gummies a day.
- [08:23]
A
If you want to stay strong and.
- [08:24]
B
Energized now and as you age, then you've got to try Mitopuric Gummies. My friends at timeline are offering 20% off just for my listeners. Head to timeline.compassionstruct to get started. That's timeline.compassionstruck your cells will thank you. Most of us spend 90% of our time indoors, but did you know indoor air can be up to 100 times more polluted than outdoor air?
- [08:53]
A
That stat shocked me.
- [08:54]
B
And that's exactly why I started using Air Doctor the award winning air purifier that removes 99.99% of harmful particles like allergens, viruses, smoke, mold, spores and more. It's no surprise Air Doctor was voted best air purifier by Newsweek and 98% of customers say their homes feel safer, cleaner and healthier. And I feel the difference. My throat isn't dry, my nose isn't stuffy, and with two active dogs, it's a relief knowing Air Doctor handles Pet Dander tube Breathe in clean air. Just feels better. Head to airdoctorpro.com and use promo code passionstruck to get up to $300 off today. Air Doctor comes with a 30 day money back guarantee plus a 3 year warranty and $84 value for free. Get this exclusive podcast only offer now at airdoctorpro.com a I r v o c T-O-R p r o.com use promo.
- [09:54]
C
Code PASSIONSTRA Shopify's point of sale system helps you sell at every stage of your business. Need a fast and secure way to take payments in person? We've got you covered. How about quarter card readers you can rely on anywhere you sell?
- [10:08]
A
Thanks.
- [10:09]
C
Have a good one. Yep, that too. Want one place to manage all your online and in person sales? That's kind of our thing wherever you sell. Businesses that grow grow with Shopify. Sign up for your $1 a month trial at shopify.com listen shopify.com listen one.
- [10:26]
A
Moment, one person at a time. You can download this episode's free workbook and all others directly from the substack post that accompanies every single episode. Just head to theignitedlife.net and join the community. It's completely free. Now a quick break for our sponsors. Thank you for supporting those who make the show possible. You're listening to Passion Struck on the Passion Struck Network. Welcome back. We've been reflecting on those rare, unhurried moments of full presence, the kind we felt at the playground, around the holiday table, in backyard games with family. And we landed on a question worth sitting with. If presence is what makes those moments matter, what happens when it becomes optional? Before we dive into how to show up more fully, let's be crystal clear about why presence matters so deeply. Presence isn't just an enhancement to love. It's how love is actually filled, felt. Most of us assume our care is obvious, that the people closest to us simply know how much they matter to us. But love, left unspoken and unattended, remains invisible. Presence is what makes it real, tangible, felt in the body. Just think about the difference between being loved and feeling loved. That gap is almost always filled with, or left empty by presence. When you're truly present with someone, even For a few minutes, you communicate something words really capture. You matter to me right now. Not later, not after I finish this, right now. You can feel it instantly. Their attention isn't split. Their body is relaxed. They're not already half out the door. They're here with you. And in that space, something quiet but profound happens. People soften. They stop performing. They stop bracing. Presence creates emotional safety. It says, without saying it, you don't have to earn my attention. You already have it. That's why presence turns ordinary moments into the ones we never forget. It's rarely the activity itself that lingers. It's how fully it was shared. A simple walk becomes a memory you carry for decades. A quiet meal becomes a milestone. A random afternoon becomes a story retold with a smile years later. Not because anything spectacular happened, but because the moment was fully inhabited. Presence also does something we don't talk about nearly enough. It's one of the most powerful antidotes to loneliness. You can be surrounded by people and still feel invisible. But sit with one person who is truly present, and loneliness dissolves. Even if no one says a word, presence closes that gap. It whispers, you're not alone right now. For children, this is especially true. Presence is how they first learn what unconditional mattering looks like. Not through praise or correction. Not even through being told, I love you, but through being fully received. When a child senses you are completely with them, they don't question their worth. They don't wonder if they're enough. They just know deep down that they matter. Those moments don't just shape their childhood. They shape how they love and connect for the rest of their lives. And they shape us, too. Because presence isn't passive. It's an active choice. Every time we put the phone down, every time we listen without planning our reply, every time we linger a little longer, instead of rushing away. That's presence. That's how we say, without ever needing the words, you matter to me exactly as you are right now. So if presence gives all of this safety, connection, lasting memories, a shield against loneliness, then learning to offer it more often might be one of the most important things we ever do. And that's exactly what we'll explore next. Despite everything presence gives us, it has quietly become harder to offer. Not because love has faded, not because people have stopped caring. Most relationships don't suffer from a lack of affection or good intentions. They suffer because presence now has to compete with work devices, endless schedules, and the constant hum of what's next. Presence is no longer the default. It's something we fit in around the edges. From the outside, everything still looks intact. People still sit at the same tables. They gather in the same rooms. Families come together for holidays. Partners coordinate logistics. Friends trade updates. Life appears connected. And yet something subtle has changed. Presence hasn't disappeared, it's thinned. Attention is divided more often than it's whole. Minds wander even when bodies stay put. Conversations unfold alongside notifications, mental to do lists and the quiet pressure of whatever's waiting next. This isn't dramatic absence, it's dilution. And dilution is dangerous, precisely because it's so quiet. Nothing shatters. Suddenly, there's no single moment you can point to and say, that's where it broke. No big fights, no slam doors. Instead, the signals shrink. Children start telling shorter stories. The colorful details vanish first, then the emotion. Eventually they offer only the headline, delivered fast, as if taking up too much space might be asking too much. Adult conversations follow the same path. Talk becomes efficient. Updates replace real exploration. Check ins stand in for true connection. And what once felt like a shared inner world slowly turns into two parallel lives, moving side by side. You can sit right next to someone and still feel unseen. Relationships rarely collapse. They erode not from outright neglect, but from quiet adaptation. When attention feels inconsistent, people adjust. They share less, they reach out more carefully. They learn which parts of themselves land easily and which feel like an interruption. Over time, more and more stays hidden. This is easier to grasp if you think about the body. A muscle you stop using doesn't vanish overnight. It weakens gradually. Strength fades. Endurance drops. Range narrows. Movements that once felt effortless start to feel awkward, even risky. The same thing happens in relationships. The capacities that keep closeness alive. Things like deep listening, staying with discomfort, sharing unfinished thoughts, reaching without guarantee are social muscles. When we use those muscles regularly, they stay supple. When we don't, they atrophy. People don't stop caring. They stop practicing. And slowly. What once came naturally starts to feel effortful. Reaching out takes more courage. Staying present feels harder than it should. From the outside, everything still functions. Calendars stay packed, responsibilities get handled. Traditions roll on. And love is still there. But something vital is missing. The felt sense of being fully received. This isn't a new discovery. Long before studies named it, human hearts already knew. Being seen, heard and responded to is foundational. Eye contact signals attention. Responsiveness signals importance. Shared, unhurried time allows nervous systems to settle into one another. Not in grand doses, but in ordinary, repeated moments. The real challenge is that absence rarely announces itself as loss. It disguises itself as normal. Life unnecessary busyness as distractions that feel justified. And because it's so ordinary, it rarely feels urgent. Until one day, closeness feels farther away than it once did. Most relationships don't need more love. They need more arrival. So if absence erodes quietly, how do we choose presence more often? Before the thinning becomes permanent? That's where we'll turn to next. Here's the hopeful truth. When presence returns, even imperfectly, the shift is unmistakable. Not because life suddenly gets easier, but because the air in the room changes. Laughter flows more freely. Not louder or forced, but lighter, more genuine. People speak without mentally editing every word. Silence softens. It no longer feels tense or empty. Moments stretch just enough to feel fully lived instead of heard through. Trust deepens quietly. Not because every problem is solved or every feeling named, but because attention becomes something people can count on. When presence is steady, no one has to compete for it. They simply relax into it. Time itself feels different. An ordinary evening unfolds slowly. A familiar routine gains depth. A shared meal becomes memorable, not for the food, but for how it felt to be truly together. Presence doesn't add hours to the day. It changes how every hour is experienced. Something else beautiful emerges. When presence becomes more consistent, a quiet cycle begins. When someone feels truly met, they reach again. When that reach is received, they share more. And when sharing deepens, connection grows stronger. Presence invites presence. It creates a gentle feedback loop that rebuilds what had quietly thinned. And here's what surprises most people. Presence doesn't just nourish the person receiving it. It nourishes the giver too. Full attention settles the nervous system. Breathing slows. Scattered thoughts gather energy consolidates. Being undivided turns out to be less exhausting than constantly switching contexts. There's relief in simply being where you are. This is where the muscle metaphor works in reverse. When those social muscles listening, staying, reaching, are used again, even slowly and imperfectly, strength returns. Closeness stops. Feeling so fragile, Reaching feels natural once more. This isn't about perfection. It's about practice. This is the quiet beauty of showing up. It doesn't mechanically repair relationships, it reanimates them. It allows people to feel one another again. And when people truly feel one another, they change, becoming more open, more secure, more willing to bring their whole selves instead of only the parts that feel safe. This is relational mattering in motion, not intensity, not constant availability, not grand gestures. Just the steady, quiet signal. I'm here, you matter. Presence is available. Showing up fully gives far more than it takes. And in return, it. It gives something profound back to everyone. Involved. If this is what becomes possible when we choose presence more often, then how do we actually do it in a world designed to pull us away? That's where we're headed to next. I keep returning to those early memories. The pumpkin patch on Signal Mountain. The chaotic backyard football games over Christmas breaks. The noise, the laughter. The way time seemed to forget about us. What lingers now isn't the place or even the joy of it. It's the feeling of everyone being fully there. Those moments didn't matter because they were rare or spectacular. They mattered because we inhabited them completely. One day, the moments we're living right now will become memories, stories we retell, photos we linger over years later. And what will remain isn't what we accomplished or how productive we were. What remains is whether the people we love felt us with them, whether they felt seen, received, deeply, mattered to while the moment was still alive. That's the quiet, lasting power of presence. It never announces itself. It never demands recognition. But it leaves the deepest mark. So this isn't another checklist. This is a vow to arrive more often, to linger a little longer, to choose connection when distraction is calling. Try it tonight. Look someone you love in the eyes. Say their name. Tell them out loud that they matter to you. And then stay. Stay long enough for the words to land and the feeling to settle. Because the people who matter most won't remember how busy we were. They'll remember whether we were truly there. Thank you for spending this time with me today, my friends. Let's bring this home. We began with a simple truth hidden in plain sight. The moments we cherish most weren't grand or flawless. They were simply inhabited. Fully, freely, with nothing held back. We moved through the quiet cost of absence. How relationships don't usually break. They thinned when presence becomes optional. Then we turned. The beauty of what becomes possible when we choose to show up again, even imperfectly. How presence invites presence. How small arrivals rebuild. What distance quietly eroded. How mattering once felt changed everything. And we ended with a vow. Not a checklist, not a demand for perfection, but a quiet commitment to arrive a little more often, to linger a little longer, to let the people we love feel us while the moment is still alive. This isn't about doing more. It's about being more right where you already are. If you are listening right now and there's someone whose story you've been hearing in shorter versions, someone you've been meaning to truly see, someone who might quietly wonder if they still matter to you, hear this. You're not out of chances. You are one intentional moment away tonight. Tomorrow, this holiday season, cast one small vote for presents. Put the phone down, look them in the eyes. Stay long enough for the feeling to land. That's how mattering is rebuilt. One ordinary, chosen arrival at a time. Head over to theignitedlife.net and grab the free companion workbook for this episode. It will guide you step by step through noticing where practically presence is calling you most and practicing the small choices that make the biggest difference. And if you want to pass this down to your children, then consider pre ordering my new children's book, you Matter Luma, either at Barnes and noble or@umatterluma.com Next week I'm sitting down with my friend Nirbhaan, author of the Solution Mindset, for a conversation about what it really takes to move forward. When answers aren't obvious, we'll explore why constraints don't block creativity, they activate it. How to train your brain to see possibilities instead of problems. And why the future belongs to those who can adapt without losing themselves. Because becoming isn't just about showing up for others. It's about how we show up for the challenges life hands us next for.
- [26:19]
D
People, I highly suggest that somebody's frustrated at work. Things aren't happening. I highly suggest that that you step out of that like laser focus of what's going on that minute, that day, that week and start to look at your career and start to look at your life as a long term trajectory. Right? Is it how you treat other people? Maybe you going to work at that particular place, John, isn't about the work that you do. Maybe about how you're touching other employees there and how you're helping, helping them through their problems. How you're making an impact with your community.
- [26:56]
A
I'm John Miles. You've been passion struck and until next time, choose presence over distraction, connection over convenience and live like the people you love can feel it.