Olympic Master-Class

And just like that the 2026 Milano Cortina Winter Olympics came to a close.

The medals have been handed out. Athletes went home. They'll reflect on what transpired. Some will retire. Some will take the lessons forward.

For 16 days, spectators were glued to the screens watching with bated breath stories of triumph and heartbreak. For many, it was thrilling entertainment. But what if it wasn't just entertainment?

Twenty years ago, the Olympics changed my life in ways I couldn't have imagined. And I believe, if we look beyond the surface level of what unfolded in front of our eyes, there is potential for changing your life as well. Because the truth is, one doesn't have to be there as an athlete or coach to learn from their experiences.

As someone who has lived and breathed figure skating for decades, I've witnessed countless performances. Analyzed technique. Studied what separates champions from second, third, fourth place…

And honestly, in all my years in this sport, I have never witnessed the conversation we just had.

For as long as I can remember, we've talked about the Olympic motto: "Faster, Higher, Stronger."

The relentless pursuit of perfection. The most difficult jumps. The highest scores. Russian little girls dazzle with an arsenal of quadruple jumps, confident in their future as the most advanced technical figure skating war-machines.

But this year, Alysa Liu single-handedly changed the narrative.

She showed us something else entirely, shifting cultural perspective on success, from having and doing to BEING.

In 2006, my dream of coaching an Olympic medalist seemed to have been realized, when I got to coach Sasha Cohen for the Torino Winter Games. For 15 years I ground to get to this level, willing to sacrifice everything for my dream. As I watched coaches and athletes smiling into the cameras on TV, I was imagining myself being there… finally happy and accomplished. But in reality, my dream didn't quite look that way. And behind cameras and closed doors, it was filled with tears of frustration, agony and stress. This is why you rarely see athletes return to the Olympics once they get that medal. They ask themselves if it was worth the pain.

That experience sent me on a quest.

A quest to understand why the most competent athletes sometimes collapse at the biggest moments and what I could do as a coach to help them.

For 20 years, I honed and refined tools of identifying, clearing and healing subconscious filters that drive behavior activated by hidden triggers. 

I remember working with a National level athlete, and suggesting her parents and coach to do this work, and being dismissed: "yeah, we'll do it when we qualify for Nationals." "Wait… she will not qualify for Nationals, if you don't do this work…" But they didn't see as much value in it as they did with pouring resources into training jumps, spins, choreography. And most people don't, because the force that regulates our sense of balance and safety is invisible.

I, too, didn't understand this at first.

I remember enrolling in a Masters program in Spiritual Psychology not long after my 'unfortunate' (I thought) experience at the Olympics.

My teachers said: "Here you will learn about unconditional love, acceptance, forgiveness, joy."

And just like my students, I thought: "Why do I need to learn this? How is this going to help me raise future Olympic champions?"

I almost didn't enroll.

But there were so many synchronicities guiding me to this program.

I felt like Spirit itself was telling me: This is the Way.

And now I know that this is the only Way.

We all witnessed it clearly this year.

I was amazed when Ilia Malinin came out after his devastating free skate and acknowledged that traumatic moments and memories flooded his mind. It is easy to blame pressure, and yes, pressure brought these traumatic moments to the surface. But here is what's important to realize — if these traumatic moments and memories were healed, no amount of pressure would bring them forward. In fact, pressure reveals potential. Potential of WHO you could be.

Like an acorn that already contains the oak. The pressure doesn't create what's inside you. It reveals it. And what it revealed in Ilia was this: His identity was rooted in something he had and did. Not in WHO he truly is.

QuadGod. The quadruple Axel. The titles. The most impressive jump arsenal in the history of figure skating. And when those couldn't be claimed in that moment — WHO was he? 

That is the most terrifying moment a human being can face. Not falling. Not losing. Rather, it’s not knowing who you are without what you have, feeling utterly small and unworthy…

I flipped the page of my Blueprint Mastery Journal. A question was in front of me: “What’s the difference between ‘having’ more Success and ‘being’ more Success?” As I reflected on the question, I became aware of the soft music playing in the background. Suddenly, all of my being tuned in into those sounds, whispering… “Success is like music… you can HAVE music — tracks in a library, a playlist, a collection. Or you can BE music itself. Not everyone loves this music or that, but regardless of who likes it, it is still music, and so is success… And that’s who I am.”

Ilia had the most impressive music library in figure skating history. But when the tracks wouldn't play — he had nothing left to be. He might believe that he let us all down, that he was a failure. But the truth is, he gave the world a different gift. We didn’t get to experience his magnificent quadruple Axel, and the glorious moment of coronation with an additional piece of hardware around his neck. But we got to see first hand what happens when our identity is misplaced and our unresolved issues get center stage. 

And before the Olympic drama was over, we received the second half of the Master-class – Alysa Liu.

She didn’t do a single quad, nor a triple Axel. She skated a clean program. She wasn’t the only one with a clean program. So, why can't people stop talking about her? What was so special about Alysa? The way I see it… Alysa was… herself. In full acceptance of all that she is. She WAS music! And she absolutely, unapologetically loved being it! Her performance didn’t define her. What she could or couldn’t do didn’t have an effect on who she was. She knew that she could fall. And she knew that falling wouldn’t change who she was. And that made all the difference. 

You may think it’s a special talent. The good news is that a quadruple Axel requires special talent, but owning WHO you are doesn’t. 

Yes, it takes some work, some chiseling away what no longer belongs to you. It takes commitment to yourself. But the tools are available to all ready to win your own personal Olympics. And if you choose to do this with me, I’ll be honored to be your guide. 

So, the question the closing ceremony leaves us with is not about figure skating.

It's about you.

Is WHO you are rooted in what you have? What you do? What you're known for?

Or in something that holds — no matter what?

If you're ready to find out — Let's Connect and Talk. I'll be honored to be your guide.