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One Last Talk: Why Your Truth Matters and How to Speak It
If you were about to leave this planet, what would you say, and who would you say it to?
This shocking and provocative question is at the core of the remarkable and inspiring book, One Last Why Your Truth Matters And How To Deliver It . This book emerged from the speaking series designed to help people discover their truth, and then speak it out loud, developed by renowned coach Philip McKernan.
In this book, McKernan goes beyond the event, and dives into what it means to discover your truth and speak it, why people should do this, and then deeply explains exactly how this can be done. If you feel living more authentically could allow you to have a greater impact on others, or you can't find the words to speak your truth as boldly as you know you need to, this is the book for you.
Make no mistake, the path McKernan lays out is simple, but not easy, because your greatest gift lies next to your deepest wounds.
This shocking and provocative question is at the core of the remarkable and inspiring book, One Last Why Your Truth Matters And How To Deliver It . This book emerged from the speaking series designed to help people discover their truth, and then speak it out loud, developed by renowned coach Philip McKernan.
In this book, McKernan goes beyond the event, and dives into what it means to discover your truth and speak it, why people should do this, and then deeply explains exactly how this can be done. If you feel living more authentically could allow you to have a greater impact on others, or you can't find the words to speak your truth as boldly as you know you need to, this is the book for you.
Make no mistake, the path McKernan lays out is simple, but not easy, because your greatest gift lies next to your deepest wounds.
331 pages, Hardcover
Published November 6, 2018
39 people are currently reading
282 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
March 29, 2020
While quarantined and unemployed due to the COVID-19 crisis, I attended a webinar on non-fiction/memoir writing. In it, this book was highly recommended.
Now, I usually think these self help books are bullshit. If you’ve read a couple you’ve read em all. Most of their value is in fleeting feelings of motivation and comfort. A majority of them seem to be written by swarmy speakers who are either trying to market themselves or cash in on their speaking career. Neither approach makes for helpful or compelling reading and they usually end up regurgitating the same 10 or so pieces of “wisdom” in slightly different ways.
This book appears to signal much of that. So I went into reading this with a lot of red flags waving. Walls up. Prepared to be snarky about how “this should have been a blog post.” But on a deeper level, I was ready to be disappointed by yet another book that was supposed to ‘help’ and had failed to do so. At its worst, maybe it could be a quick interlude before finally diving back into War and Peace. At least Tolstoy is intellectually and emotionally honest, if a bit confused about religion.
Thankfully Phillip McKernan didn’t write a shit book. This was one of those rare books that really brings the right timing with the right level of honesty and really shakes up your life. On par with the first time I read Old Man and the Sea. This book cracked me open like a chestnut roasting at Christmas.
The idea is if you were going to die and could give only one talk to anyone, what would it be? Not “save the whales” or “buy less expensive shit” but a real, honest to goodness heart to heart. There’s several soul-stirring examples. Then you are challenged to give that talk. For me it’s trying to provide comfort to a younger self. That I am ok. I may have felt unseen and alone and reacted to life with a gaping hole in my heart, but that is as much a failure of my perception as it is a response to early circumstances outside my control. My journey to okayness comes from feeling seen, and feeling seen comes from honesty.
If you’ll indulge me in this small corner of the internet. I’ve somehow stumbled through a fair number of road bumps in my life. I’ve survived addiction, alcoholism, arrests, running away as an adolescent. I dropped out of a pre-med program to be a bouncer at a bar. Worked my way from a car washer to a salesman on a car lot. Lucked into working with startups. There I hopped from job to job while I picked up a cocaine habit. Pick a way to sabotage your life and I’ve likely attempted it. For a variety of reasons, many of which the book touches, I never felt I deserved good things. When I was finally arrested for my second DUI, I felt relief. Finally seeing what might be a chance to clean up my life. Weeks later on bail, as I contemplated “to be or not to be” at the top of a parking garage, I bottomed out and made the decision to stop running away from the problems I had created. No more switching jobs, no more dodging bills, no more hiding from my emotions with the help of alcohol. I remember feeling, in that moment, so soul crushingly alone. A piece of sand separated from it’s beach. A speck of dust floating in an indifferent universe.
Several years removed from that bottom I find myself attempting to build a new life. I’m pursuing a college degree in mathematics, reading extensively, sober, trying my damndest to pay my bills on time with varying levels of success. Bit by bit attempting to be an upstanding member of society. I made my amends and have mostly closed the door to that life.... I thought.
While reading, I realized I never really felt the weight of all of those years. Next to the gaping hole in my heart, the blackness I felt engulfed by, the discomfort of my current circumstances felt like a sliver. Why should I stop to pick out a siver when I’ve survived much worse? I’ve been moving so fast I never stopped to process everything. It’s not that my life has been jam packed with events, it’s that I never slowed down enough to let myself feel. Stuffing my schedule with reading and podcasts and crackpot schemes about getting rich and working on this magical story of redemption where I turn my life around. But it’s not about that. It’s about slowing down and living in a way that I feel good about. Where I don’t feel the need to be a snarky twat.
That realization sucker-punched me. About a quarter of the way through this book, I had to stop to just breathe. About halfway through, I had to go for a walk to clear my head. At the end, I wrote this out.
All I can muster of similar weight is this:
“If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.” -Gospel of Thomas
I’m not sure this would have the same weight it does before reading, but if you have ever felt that you needed permission to just be, this is the book for you. I still hear that chatter saying “I’m not good enough,” but it’s a bit quieter, and I feel a bit more prepared to handle it.
Now, I usually think these self help books are bullshit. If you’ve read a couple you’ve read em all. Most of their value is in fleeting feelings of motivation and comfort. A majority of them seem to be written by swarmy speakers who are either trying to market themselves or cash in on their speaking career. Neither approach makes for helpful or compelling reading and they usually end up regurgitating the same 10 or so pieces of “wisdom” in slightly different ways.
This book appears to signal much of that. So I went into reading this with a lot of red flags waving. Walls up. Prepared to be snarky about how “this should have been a blog post.” But on a deeper level, I was ready to be disappointed by yet another book that was supposed to ‘help’ and had failed to do so. At its worst, maybe it could be a quick interlude before finally diving back into War and Peace. At least Tolstoy is intellectually and emotionally honest, if a bit confused about religion.
Thankfully Phillip McKernan didn’t write a shit book. This was one of those rare books that really brings the right timing with the right level of honesty and really shakes up your life. On par with the first time I read Old Man and the Sea. This book cracked me open like a chestnut roasting at Christmas.
The idea is if you were going to die and could give only one talk to anyone, what would it be? Not “save the whales” or “buy less expensive shit” but a real, honest to goodness heart to heart. There’s several soul-stirring examples. Then you are challenged to give that talk. For me it’s trying to provide comfort to a younger self. That I am ok. I may have felt unseen and alone and reacted to life with a gaping hole in my heart, but that is as much a failure of my perception as it is a response to early circumstances outside my control. My journey to okayness comes from feeling seen, and feeling seen comes from honesty.
If you’ll indulge me in this small corner of the internet. I’ve somehow stumbled through a fair number of road bumps in my life. I’ve survived addiction, alcoholism, arrests, running away as an adolescent. I dropped out of a pre-med program to be a bouncer at a bar. Worked my way from a car washer to a salesman on a car lot. Lucked into working with startups. There I hopped from job to job while I picked up a cocaine habit. Pick a way to sabotage your life and I’ve likely attempted it. For a variety of reasons, many of which the book touches, I never felt I deserved good things. When I was finally arrested for my second DUI, I felt relief. Finally seeing what might be a chance to clean up my life. Weeks later on bail, as I contemplated “to be or not to be” at the top of a parking garage, I bottomed out and made the decision to stop running away from the problems I had created. No more switching jobs, no more dodging bills, no more hiding from my emotions with the help of alcohol. I remember feeling, in that moment, so soul crushingly alone. A piece of sand separated from it’s beach. A speck of dust floating in an indifferent universe.
Several years removed from that bottom I find myself attempting to build a new life. I’m pursuing a college degree in mathematics, reading extensively, sober, trying my damndest to pay my bills on time with varying levels of success. Bit by bit attempting to be an upstanding member of society. I made my amends and have mostly closed the door to that life.... I thought.
While reading, I realized I never really felt the weight of all of those years. Next to the gaping hole in my heart, the blackness I felt engulfed by, the discomfort of my current circumstances felt like a sliver. Why should I stop to pick out a siver when I’ve survived much worse? I’ve been moving so fast I never stopped to process everything. It’s not that my life has been jam packed with events, it’s that I never slowed down enough to let myself feel. Stuffing my schedule with reading and podcasts and crackpot schemes about getting rich and working on this magical story of redemption where I turn my life around. But it’s not about that. It’s about slowing down and living in a way that I feel good about. Where I don’t feel the need to be a snarky twat.
That realization sucker-punched me. About a quarter of the way through this book, I had to stop to just breathe. About halfway through, I had to go for a walk to clear my head. At the end, I wrote this out.
All I can muster of similar weight is this:
“If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.” -Gospel of Thomas
I’m not sure this would have the same weight it does before reading, but if you have ever felt that you needed permission to just be, this is the book for you. I still hear that chatter saying “I’m not good enough,” but it’s a bit quieter, and I feel a bit more prepared to handle it.
September 23, 2019
Instead of a book review, I want to share what reading this book gave me. Something tangible. Something it can give you. My own ONE LAST TALK...
From the ages of 17 to 22 I prostituted myself to older men. I charged them money to dominate me and let me perform oral sex on them. I felt like I mattered when I did this for them, like their validation of me and what I was doing was the love I never got as a child.
I felt something…
Growing up I was never allowed to feel or express my emotions. I was a very sad and angry child because my parents neglected me. I tried any which way I could to get their attention and all that got me in return was them yelling at me or sending me to my room. How I felt and acted out was my fault and it was up to me to fix it.
I hated it. I hated myself so much because all I heard was how I continuously put a strain on the family by acting like a “spoiled brat”.
My dad was never at my birthday parties. Or school events. My mom once told me to “go fuck yourself” when I asked her for help on my math homework.
At a certain age I stopped asking my parents to support me at these events because I knew they had more important things to do. Dad had to work so he could put a million dollar roof over my head and mom had to figure out a way to cope with the pain that dad inflicted on her.
Asking them to attend one of my soccer games or dance performances seemed like a burden. These were silly things, sports and social activities. I started to see things as they did, even though I still felt the way my friends did. Deep down I wanted them to want to go to all of them, not just show up and be looking at their watch the whole time, or talking business on the phone, like my dad.
What I’m trying to say is that I never felt worthy of my parents’ love because they liked to pick and choose when they loved me. If I felt angry or sad they rejected me. I became too much for them. And if I was happy or excited I never wanted to share it with them because I feared what they would think. I was deeply afraid that they would judge me for acting my age.
Instead, I started to act their age and treat others the way they treated me. At friends’ birthday parties I was the kid that was too self-conscious to dance and run around with everyone else. When I entered my first serious relationship in high school, I became possessive, jealous, and an asshole. I cared a lot about my then girlfriend but I was ashamed and afraid to own up to that feeling. I feared that she would reject it the way my parents rejected me.
I grew up fast and sloppy.
I grew up thinking that love was unavailable for someone like me.
I grew up amidst a web of secrets and lies.
I found cigarette butts in mom’s toilet even though I’d never seen her smoke a cigarette in my life. I saw my father and a strange woman’s silhouette through the curtain in my bedroom and heard them yell at each other for a half hour. I still don’t know who that woman was. My sister was sent to boarding school around the age of thirteen for something I’m still in the dark about. And sometimes I had to bribe my brother just so he would spend time with me.
I was about as emotionally isolated as a child can be.
And as I grew up, the issues I faced became more and more serious.
First it was drugs and alcohol, to which I said yes almost all of the time. Something to numb the pain, you know?
Second was the complexity of an intimate, monogamous relationship with another person. I didn’t know how to navigate that, so I took from what my parents showed me. If I was upset at her, I avoided physical touch and words of affection. This was how I communicated to her that I was upset. If she hurt me, I made sure to let her know how much she had hurt me, and then proceeded to hurt her twice as much. I cheated on her a number of times, one of them with her best friend, and one of them with a stranger I met through Craigslist.
That was the first time I ever made another man orgasm.
Third, and worst of all, was learning how to be alone—which I am still working on to this day. In high school I learned that I could masturbate on camera for men all around the world. They really liked young boys and I really needed the attention. I probably did this for over one hundred men in the span of four years.
After high school I moved to Southern California to go to college. I made a couple of friends and enjoyed my classes, but when I wasn’t doing that, I fell back on my old habit, only this time I actually met with men instead of doing it all virtually. I searched the personals ads on Craigslist three or four times a week and met with over twenty men in one year, some of them more than once. And I didn’t use protection with a single one.
Then I dropped out of college and moved to Austin. I thought the worst was behind me, but it was only just beginning.
Since moving to Austin I have met with just as many men—if not more. I didn’t use protection with any of them, either. I met and fell in love with two different women and cheated on both of them. I developed addictions to weed and psychedelics at times. I did everything I could to avoid feeling my pain.
But when my most recent relationship ended—the third woman I ever cheated on—I started to feel my emotions differently than I was used to. I knew what mistaken expressions of hurt looked like and where those led me. I was aware that if I repeated the same pattern, I would find myself here again in no time, only the pain would be greater, like it is now.
It took me three months to tell her the truth and break her heart. It took me writing a 70,000+ word memoir about my pain to build up enough courage. To rid myself of the shame I have carried my whole life. To work against the voice in my head that wakes me up every morning to tell me that because of the decisions I have made, I am not loved, nor am I worthy of love.
For twenty-three years I’ve been chasing my parents’ validation and support. For twenty-three years I haven’t gotten it.
When I told my dad I wanted to pursue writing and poker as careers, he made fun of me for it. When I bragged to my mom about a $1,500 dollar scholarship I won for something I wrote in thirty minutes, she changed the subject. When I dropped out of college and told my dad after the fact, all he had to say was: “Well you did it already! What the hell do you want me to say?”
Anytime I experience anger or sadness, it is compounded by this twenty-three year pursuit. I am reminded of all that I never got as a child. I am reminded of all the women I’ve hurt because of pain I had yet to process. I am thrown back to age three and that king sized bed I slept on with my parents, as I rolled around in between them, fighting to get their attention, the two of them busy ignoring each other because of pain THEY had yet to process, because they were emotionally unavailable even to themselves.
Today I am still a very angry and sad person. I haven’t come to terms with the fact that these were the cards I was dealt. I resent my parents for a lot of the decisions they made. I resent myself for the same.
But I am also many other things.
I am a leader at my job. I am a friend to men and women in my life. I am someone who no longer wants to live in fear.
And because of that, because I’ve been tied down by shame for so long, I wrote it all down and decided to share it with the world. I turned my pain into meaning for all of the other neglected men and women that don’t feel worthy of love either.
I did this for you just as much as I did it for myself.
From the ages of 17 to 22 I prostituted myself to older men. I charged them money to dominate me and let me perform oral sex on them. I felt like I mattered when I did this for them, like their validation of me and what I was doing was the love I never got as a child.
I felt something…
Growing up I was never allowed to feel or express my emotions. I was a very sad and angry child because my parents neglected me. I tried any which way I could to get their attention and all that got me in return was them yelling at me or sending me to my room. How I felt and acted out was my fault and it was up to me to fix it.
I hated it. I hated myself so much because all I heard was how I continuously put a strain on the family by acting like a “spoiled brat”.
My dad was never at my birthday parties. Or school events. My mom once told me to “go fuck yourself” when I asked her for help on my math homework.
At a certain age I stopped asking my parents to support me at these events because I knew they had more important things to do. Dad had to work so he could put a million dollar roof over my head and mom had to figure out a way to cope with the pain that dad inflicted on her.
Asking them to attend one of my soccer games or dance performances seemed like a burden. These were silly things, sports and social activities. I started to see things as they did, even though I still felt the way my friends did. Deep down I wanted them to want to go to all of them, not just show up and be looking at their watch the whole time, or talking business on the phone, like my dad.
What I’m trying to say is that I never felt worthy of my parents’ love because they liked to pick and choose when they loved me. If I felt angry or sad they rejected me. I became too much for them. And if I was happy or excited I never wanted to share it with them because I feared what they would think. I was deeply afraid that they would judge me for acting my age.
Instead, I started to act their age and treat others the way they treated me. At friends’ birthday parties I was the kid that was too self-conscious to dance and run around with everyone else. When I entered my first serious relationship in high school, I became possessive, jealous, and an asshole. I cared a lot about my then girlfriend but I was ashamed and afraid to own up to that feeling. I feared that she would reject it the way my parents rejected me.
I grew up fast and sloppy.
I grew up thinking that love was unavailable for someone like me.
I grew up amidst a web of secrets and lies.
I found cigarette butts in mom’s toilet even though I’d never seen her smoke a cigarette in my life. I saw my father and a strange woman’s silhouette through the curtain in my bedroom and heard them yell at each other for a half hour. I still don’t know who that woman was. My sister was sent to boarding school around the age of thirteen for something I’m still in the dark about. And sometimes I had to bribe my brother just so he would spend time with me.
I was about as emotionally isolated as a child can be.
And as I grew up, the issues I faced became more and more serious.
First it was drugs and alcohol, to which I said yes almost all of the time. Something to numb the pain, you know?
Second was the complexity of an intimate, monogamous relationship with another person. I didn’t know how to navigate that, so I took from what my parents showed me. If I was upset at her, I avoided physical touch and words of affection. This was how I communicated to her that I was upset. If she hurt me, I made sure to let her know how much she had hurt me, and then proceeded to hurt her twice as much. I cheated on her a number of times, one of them with her best friend, and one of them with a stranger I met through Craigslist.
That was the first time I ever made another man orgasm.
Third, and worst of all, was learning how to be alone—which I am still working on to this day. In high school I learned that I could masturbate on camera for men all around the world. They really liked young boys and I really needed the attention. I probably did this for over one hundred men in the span of four years.
After high school I moved to Southern California to go to college. I made a couple of friends and enjoyed my classes, but when I wasn’t doing that, I fell back on my old habit, only this time I actually met with men instead of doing it all virtually. I searched the personals ads on Craigslist three or four times a week and met with over twenty men in one year, some of them more than once. And I didn’t use protection with a single one.
Then I dropped out of college and moved to Austin. I thought the worst was behind me, but it was only just beginning.
Since moving to Austin I have met with just as many men—if not more. I didn’t use protection with any of them, either. I met and fell in love with two different women and cheated on both of them. I developed addictions to weed and psychedelics at times. I did everything I could to avoid feeling my pain.
But when my most recent relationship ended—the third woman I ever cheated on—I started to feel my emotions differently than I was used to. I knew what mistaken expressions of hurt looked like and where those led me. I was aware that if I repeated the same pattern, I would find myself here again in no time, only the pain would be greater, like it is now.
It took me three months to tell her the truth and break her heart. It took me writing a 70,000+ word memoir about my pain to build up enough courage. To rid myself of the shame I have carried my whole life. To work against the voice in my head that wakes me up every morning to tell me that because of the decisions I have made, I am not loved, nor am I worthy of love.
For twenty-three years I’ve been chasing my parents’ validation and support. For twenty-three years I haven’t gotten it.
When I told my dad I wanted to pursue writing and poker as careers, he made fun of me for it. When I bragged to my mom about a $1,500 dollar scholarship I won for something I wrote in thirty minutes, she changed the subject. When I dropped out of college and told my dad after the fact, all he had to say was: “Well you did it already! What the hell do you want me to say?”
Anytime I experience anger or sadness, it is compounded by this twenty-three year pursuit. I am reminded of all that I never got as a child. I am reminded of all the women I’ve hurt because of pain I had yet to process. I am thrown back to age three and that king sized bed I slept on with my parents, as I rolled around in between them, fighting to get their attention, the two of them busy ignoring each other because of pain THEY had yet to process, because they were emotionally unavailable even to themselves.
Today I am still a very angry and sad person. I haven’t come to terms with the fact that these were the cards I was dealt. I resent my parents for a lot of the decisions they made. I resent myself for the same.
But I am also many other things.
I am a leader at my job. I am a friend to men and women in my life. I am someone who no longer wants to live in fear.
And because of that, because I’ve been tied down by shame for so long, I wrote it all down and decided to share it with the world. I turned my pain into meaning for all of the other neglected men and women that don’t feel worthy of love either.
I did this for you just as much as I did it for myself.
February 9, 2022
Now…. This is one of those ‘feels good to READ but in order to get the most out of it, there are things I need to DO’ books. I’m on it! 🙌🏻
February 23, 2019
I've seen Philip speak before and it changed the trajectory of my business life. Philip insisted to only accept complete honesty from business partners, and in exchange you need to give completed honesty.
That suggestion allowed me to get rid of some emotional baggage and end a long term business relationship with a partner who was lying to me and holding me back.
A year after seeing Philip speak, after insisting on complete honesty, my business partner ended up betrayed me and cut me off from our income streams.
After that happened, I was able to recover, rebuild and achieve 10X success in my own vs in the partnership.
I saw Philip again in 2018 and brought One Last Talk home. My wife, who has never read a non-fiction book in her life, picked this up randomly and could not put it down.
For some reason she was drawn to this book, and it really touched her. She started developing very healthy and productive habits after reading this book.
She was able to work through some really heavy emotional issues due to health issues that she's been struggling with over the last 5 years.
I highly recommend this book to anyone who is looking for an impactful and life altering experience.
I've since been able to meet Philip's family, he, his wife and kids are all awesome people.
That suggestion allowed me to get rid of some emotional baggage and end a long term business relationship with a partner who was lying to me and holding me back.
A year after seeing Philip speak, after insisting on complete honesty, my business partner ended up betrayed me and cut me off from our income streams.
After that happened, I was able to recover, rebuild and achieve 10X success in my own vs in the partnership.
I saw Philip again in 2018 and brought One Last Talk home. My wife, who has never read a non-fiction book in her life, picked this up randomly and could not put it down.
For some reason she was drawn to this book, and it really touched her. She started developing very healthy and productive habits after reading this book.
She was able to work through some really heavy emotional issues due to health issues that she's been struggling with over the last 5 years.
I highly recommend this book to anyone who is looking for an impactful and life altering experience.
I've since been able to meet Philip's family, he, his wife and kids are all awesome people.
June 18, 2023
Another book that’s going straight into the garbage. Cliche and not even as good as many other books that may have cliches in them. Read it because of a friend’s recommendations, but it’s got me thinking i shouldn’t take her recommendations seriously. I’ve read some of her other recommendations, which turned out to be mediocre, but this one was a waste of time and money. Thank God i got this at a huge bargain since the going price was pretty steep for a book of this quality. Physically, it’s a fine enough book, and the layout was easy to follow, but it’s helpfulness dinged at a solid 1 on a 10-point scale. It was also repetitive and the stories were not particularly noteworthy.
July 21, 2020
Though I really enjoyed the overall message, this book was very repetitive. Many of the chapters seemed identical. The stories were enjoyable and I liked that they were included!
September 25, 2023
Interesting concept. Got me thinking a bit.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews