I baked cookies for someone I couldn't stand

A couple of times a month, nine families gather at our house for what we call home church. No stage. No production. Just people we love, a meal, and somebody sharing something that's been on their heart.

This time it was my turn.

I'd been thinking a lot about a simple idea that's easy to say and really hard to live: love your neighbor. Even — especially — the ones who make it difficult.

And it reminded me of a story I hadn't thought about in a while.

A year or so ago, I challenged our group to think of someone in their life that they didn't particularly like — or maybe someone they'd just been avoiding — and to find one small way to love that person. We took a couple of minutes to scribble down a name. The assignment was simple: do something this week.

I didn't have to think very long.

We share a wall with the business next door to our studio. And for a few weeks, they'd been parking their vehicles over the lines, blocking spots we normally used, and just generally being... not great neighbors. I won't go into all the details, but it was frustrating, and I had no idea how to address it.

And then, sitting in that moment of reflection, I realized — this is the person. The neighbor I need to love isn't some abstract concept. He's literally next door.

So I went home and baked a batch of my salted chocolate chip cookies. Wrote a little note that said something about how I appreciated having them as our neighbor. Walked next door, reintroduced myself to the owner, told him I was his neighbor, and handed him the cookies.

That was it. No agenda. No confrontation. Just cookies and a note.

The very next morning, the truck that had been parked over the line for weeks — the one that had been quietly driving me crazy — was moved. Parked properly. Like it had never been a problem.

I know that wasn't a coincidence.

Here's what I keep coming back to.

I don't think there's ever a bad reason to love someone. Even when they don't deserve it. Especially when they don't deserve it. Because honestly — we all do plenty of things in our lives to not deserve most of what we have or get to experience. There's a lot more grace being offered to us than we probably realize. And I think the more I lean into that — the more I try to extend it to other people, even when it's uncomfortable — the more I see it come back in ways I didn't expect.

That doesn't mean it's easy. Baking cookies for someone who's been irritating you for weeks is a weird move. It felt awkward. Part of me wanted to just leave a passive-aggressive note on the windshield. (I'm being honest.)

But the cookies worked. Not because they were a strategy. Because they were genuine.

This whole thing reminds me of one of my favorite business books: The Go-Giver by Bob Burg and John David Mann.

It follows a fictional character who's spent his whole career climbing, hustling, and taking — and gets challenged to flip the whole thing. Instead of being a go-getter, become a go-giver. Show up. Serve. Be helpful. Trust that in a world full of scarcity mindset, there's actually abundance — and a lot more fulfillment when you lead with generosity.

There's nothing wrong with being a go-getter. I love people who are hungry and driven and go after it. But what I've found in my own life is that the deepest fulfillment comes from trying to add value first and trusting that the right clients, the right opportunities, the right relationships are going to come at the right time.

That doesn't mean sitting on your hands. It means showing up.

And speaking of showing up — I've been seeing the fruit of this in a really tangible way lately.

For years, I stayed away from social media. Stayed away from posting vulnerable stories. Stayed away from sharing the things I actually think about and care about. I told myself it wasn't the right time, or I didn't have anything worth saying, or nobody would care.

Then I started showing up. Not with polished, perfectly optimized content — just as my real, honest self. Sharing what I'm learning, what I'm building, what I'm getting wrong.

And in the last few weeks, I've had more people reach out to me — encourage me, comment, send me voice messages — than probably all of last year. Maybe even the year before.

Not because I suddenly got better at marketing. Because I finally stopped hiding.

Turns out the go-giver thing works in content too. Show up, be helpful, be real, and trust the process.

I'm still learning this. I'm still the guy who wanted to leave a passive-aggressive note on the windshield before I chose the cookies. But I'm trying.

And I think that's the whole thing — the trying. Whether it's the neighbor next door, the audience you haven't built yet, or the person in your life who's hardest to love. You don't have to have it figured out. You just have to show up with the cookies.

To showing up,

Ryan

P.S. Mastermind applications are still open. Two weeks left. Limited seats. If you want to be in a room full of people who challenge you to show up — not perform — this is it: mastermind.ryankoral.com

P.P.S. Seriously — read The Go-Giver. It's short, it's a story (not a textbook), and it'll mess with how you think about business in the best way.