Reader,

The other day, I played pickleball with a guy who got under my skin.

He was super competitive. Every time he hit a winning shot, he'd crouch down, flex, and growl. As the game went on, his behavior really got under my skin. My feelings built and built and built until we arrived at the final play of the game. Returning his volley, I hit a beautiful baseline shot, clearly in bounds and just out of his reach.

But he immediately stood up and declared my shot was out.

Can you imagine how I felt in that moment?

In his Seven Primal Questions framework, Mike Foster explains that our behaviors are connected to our emotional needs. As I've explained here in recent weeks, when you learn what your primal question is, you discover the deepest emotional need that you carry around with you.

Mine happens to Primal Question #3: Am I loved? Everywhere I go, my brain is constantly scanning my environment — facial expressions, tones of voice, what the energy is like — seeking data to answer this primal question.

When I sense that the answer is "Yes, I am loved," then I'm fine. I can be grounded, behave reasonably, and stay present.

But if my brain tells me that the answer is "No," or even "I'm not sure," it immediately sends me into what Mike calls "The Scramble." That's when I start behaving in erratic ways, ultimately trying to turn that "No" or "Maybe" answer into a "Yes."

This guy on the pickleball court? He was really answering my primal question with a "No, you're not loved. You're somebody to be beaten, you're somebody to subdued, you're less than him." So when he said that my glorious shot (which was DEFINITELY in) was out — well, that sent me into my scramble.

At first, I became combative and vehemently argued with him. This game didn't really matter. It wasn't a tournament. There was no money involved. It was just a random pickup game with some random guy. And yet there I was, pouring my heart out, trying to convince him that my shot was in.

When I saw that wasn't working, I became like a pouting 9-year-old little boy. I shut down. I went silent. I gave him a half-hearted, sullen fistbump and stormed off the court.

If you, like me, are a PQ3, it is critical to ground yourself in this primal truth: I AM loved.

That guy on the other side of the pickleball court may not love me. But that doesn't matter. My wife loves me. My kids love me. I have friends in my life who love me. And, of course, God loves me.

My friend Anthony taught me a practice that I use to ground myself in that truth. On my wrist, I wear a bracelet made of wooden beads and a cross. I'll sit with my eyes closed, grab an individual bead, and roll it in my fingers. As I do that, I tell myself: "He loves me."

Then I work my way all around the bracelet, repeating that statement with each bead, until I eventually get to the cross. As I feel the cross in my hands, I say, "He loves me" and just meditate on the cross.

When you can ground yourself in your primal truth like this, it unleashes your primal gift. We PQ3's are relational masters who love and care for people really well. So, let me close by reminding you:

You are loved.

You are not alone.

You've got this.

Jake