This week, we had the privilege of sitting down with Ryan Reichert, a speaker for the upcoming TEDxDuluth event, to discuss his journey through the military, recovery, and redefining what it means to be successful. What began as a conversation about my own college graduation quickly evolved into a powerful discussion about life’s vectors, true wealth, and the deceptively simple steps to transforming your world.

I. Defining the Vector: Success Beyond the Job Title

The interview started with a relatable moment, “the universal struggle with technology,” as Ryan wrestled with his camera while I mentioned I was in my final week of college, graduating with a degree in management and marketing. That small moment opened a deeper conversation about modern anxieties around career, purpose, and what “success” really means.

Ryan’s advice is not the typical, linear career plan you might expect from a retired Lieutenant Colonel. He outlined his high-achieving past with 23 years in the Army, a Master’s degree, and building the risk management division for Polaris, which was then contrasted with alcoholism, prescription drug addiction, and divorce.

“I have a different approach today… I was going to be a financial advisor. You know, I have a [worthless] criminal justice degree from the University of North Dakota… and to me, I think all of it is finally maybe paying off…”

That “[worthless] criminal justice degree,” as he jokingly calls it, is now a source of quiet pride. Today, he uses it to mentor veterans coming out of Hennepin County jail for drug and alcohol-related offenses, meeting them where they are and sharing his own arrest story from nearly 30 years ago.

“You never know where you’re going to get directed in life… My business, like, you know, it ebbs, and it flows… I get scared, right? Like, I gotta be in control… And it’s like, did you eat today? Yeah, so, do you really need 1,000 bucks in here?”

His focus has shifted from net worth to self-worth. He openly rejects the old dream of the 5,000 square-foot house and luxury car; today, success is being “happy, joyous, and free.” His advice to anyone starting a new phase is simple: don’t live by your parents’ or partner’s expectations. If a part-time job pays the bills so you can pursue what you love, that counts as success.

Ryan also challenges the quiet trap of overthinking. Drawing on his military and risk-management background, he warns against “analysis paralysis” and urges people to move when they have enough information, not perfect information. Instead of waiting for 90 or 100 percent certainty, he aims for “about 70 percent,” trusting that clarity comes from taking the next right step, not from standing still.

This mindset is relevant for anyone hesitating to make a big decision, but especially so for a new graduate, like myself. Don’t let life’s big decisions trap you in “analysis paralysis.” Moving forward is full of unknowns, but each courageous step forward reveals more of the path.

II. Recovery as Daily Practice

Ryan’s ability to mentor others is rooted in his commitment to recovery, which he calls “the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.”

“It’s one of those to me today, that I know the price tag that it cost. So I do get emotional about that because I don’t want to hurt people today, and I did. I hurt a lot of people.”

He credits his father, a recovering alcoholic and Vietnam veteran, sober for over 40 years, for normalizing the process. As a kid, he watched his dad head to meetings every Monday night, not as a secret, but as a rhythm of life.

When Ryan surrendered to his own addiction a few years ago, he committed to 90 meetings in 90 days, using his military discipline to build a new structure.

“It was just part of my… it’s like going to college biology or, you know, math… I just, I locked in.”

Today, recovery is less a finish line and more a framework he chooses daily. He still attends meetings and has taken on roles like treasurer and secretary, giving his intense energy somewhere healthy to land. That same discipline shows up in his habits of writing, even on his birthday, getting to the gym before dawn, and channeling his “work hard, play harder” mentality into running, sauna camp, and cold plunges instead of self-destruction.

III. From Brotherhood to Humanism

Ryan’s story is also about transforming a deep need for belonging. Growing up in tiny Hoople, North Dakota, he joined every sport he could, from football, basketball, track, baseball, and golf; just to be part of a group. When an injury sidelined him, that isolation fed into early prescription drug use and taught him how easy it is to hide pain behind performance.

The military became the ultimate answer to that longing for connection: 5 a.m. formations, saluting the flag, working out together, and serving downrange as a tight-knit team.

“It’s the dynamic of you spend so much time together every, you know, every day… it’s just 24/7 like you’re doing everything together. And so, yeah, it’s hard when you stop that.”

Losing that intensity after retirement was jarring, but recovery communities and new collaborators have taken up that role. Ryan now sees his own story reflected in a broader loneliness epidemic through cutting across age and gender. He believes people need intentional “third spaces” like gyms, parks, faith communities, and coffee shops to stay grounded. The digital world, in his view, is neither enemy nor savior; it becomes what we make of it. After all, this conversation between Duluth and Corcoran happened because two strangers decided to say “yes” to a video call.

IV. The Six Steps: Activating Those Around Us

Ryan’s humanism comes to life through his six-step method, the heart of his TEDxDuluth message. The acronym that guides him is FOCUS: Faith, Opportunity, Consistency, Unconditional Kindness, and The Standard.

Alongside FOCUS, he teaches a simple six-step courtesy practice anyone can use to “activate” the people around them: smile, make eye contact, say “please,” say “thank you,” say “excuse me,” and say “I’m sorry” then repeat them all day long. These sound basic, but he treats them as deliberate tools for dignity.

On the road, he notices how easy it is to disappear behind earbuds at 5 a.m. on the way to the hotel gym.

“I find myself doing it too… And I gotta, like, be like, nope, not till I get to the gym, I’m putting that phone away… you might come in contact with somebody, and it might change their day.”

He cherishes his quick morning exchanges with “Maria,” the apartment worker he passes after his workout. A shared smile and “good morning” have become a small ritual he genuinely looks forward to, and he worries a bit when she is not there.

He even uses these steps at home, often reminding his aging father to add a “please” when asking for help. It is not about correcting him; it is about activating mutual respect.

“If my smile and my eye contact, my please, my thank you, my excuse me, and my I am sorry. Changes their direction, one degree, one degree. Yeah, it’s enough, you know, that they at least stick around for another day, kind of thing… We don’t know.”

That uncertainty is the point. We never really know what someone else is carrying, or how much a small act of kindness might matter. Ryan Reichert’s life is a testament to perseverance, not because he lived flawlessly, but because he learned to master his inner life and turn his pain into a practical roadmap for connection.

When he steps onto the TEDxDuluth stage, Ryan won’t just be sharing a story of survival; he’ll be inviting all of us to trade perfection for action, isolation for connection, and politeness for a daily practice of unconditional kindness.

The Full Conversation: Go Behind the Scenes

The full, unedited Zoom clip of the chat with Ryan is available here: Link to Full Zoom Clip. Watch the full clip, and you’ll get a peek at when I tell Ryan not to worry about the video quality because the plan was to use the audio file only at first!