Face Missteps and Keep Moving Forward: Gibbs from NCIS on Mental Health Warrior Mindset Rule 26
- Bruce Schutter
- Aug 25
- 6 min read
It was a sunny Thursday afternoon, and I ducked into a local convenience store for a diet soda. Suddenly, that unmistakable sixth sense kicked in — the one that says someone important is standing right behind you. I turned, nearly dropped my phone, and froze.
There he was: Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
Yes, the Gibbs from NCIS — the man, the myth, the Marine. The guy who can solve a case with a single glance or a perfectly timed head slap. Standing in line for coffee, he wore his trademark deadpan expression — somehow both intimidating and oddly comforting.
“Bruce Schutter,” he said, his gravelly voice making me instinctively stand taller. “We need to talk.”
I blinked, wondering if I’d just been recruited for a covert op… or was about to get a head slap for reasons unknown.
Fellow Warriors
Now Gibbs is a fellow Mental Health Warrior — and he knows my story. For 20 years I struggled with Bipolar, Alcoholism, Anxiety Disorders and PTSD from my time as an EMT in high school and college. That struggle left me feeling powerless, and at my lowest, I even tried to end my life. But in those darkest moments, I realized something life-changing: mental health is the key to overcoming any challenge.
Armed with that knowledge, I created the Mental Health Warrior Program — a bold new SELF-HELP approach that puts YOU in charge. With it, you can take control of your emotions, triumph over challenges and build the life you really want.
Gibbs is a big fan of this self-help approach. He knows that the greatest motivation and power we have comes from within — and that, as Warriors, we can tap into that strength. And to build it further, Mindset Rules play an important role.
Mindset Rules
Then, in a rare twist of fate, Gibbs cracked what could only be described as a micro-smile—just the slightest twitch at the corner of his lips. “I’ve been reading your book, 53 Mindset Rules of a Mental Health Warrior, and every day I use Mindset Rule 26: Learn from your missteps, but never stop because of them.”
“Your Mindset Rules,” he said, “are powerful Warrior weapons. They ground you in stressful moments, keep emotional turbulence in check and bring clarity when it feels like the world’s caving in. When trouble hits — and it always does — Mindset Rules give you the strength to face it head-on and turn obstacles into opportunities.”
Then, in true Gibbs fashion, he got straight to the point. “Rule 26 works. Let me give you three examples — not just for me, but for anyone.”
Lesson 1: Learn from Your Mistakes, but Don’t Freeze Up
Gibbs took a long sip of his coffee. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes. Like the time I misjudged a suspect’s intentions and let him walk. Turns out, he was guilty as sin. I could’ve kicked myself, but instead I focused on how to fix it. We tracked him down and caught him two days later. The lesson? You don’t dwell on the misstep — you fix it and move forward.”
He paused, letting that sink in. “In your life, it’s the same. Maybe you mess up a job interview, blow a business opportunity, or make a decision that tanks your finances. Fine. Acknowledge it, but don’t bench yourself. Get back in the game with a new strategy.”
Our Turn:
I nodded, thinking of my own financial crises after I thought I had life all figured out post-sobriety. I nearly benched myself for good — but Mindset Rule 26 was the mental head slap I needed: Get back in there.
I remember sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a stack of overdue bills with a pit in my stomach. Panic told me I was a failure, that I’d blown it all again. But the rule reminded me — my mistake didn’t define me. It was data, not destiny. So instead of hiding from the mess, I picked up the phone and called the bank. That single action turned the shame into a plan.
Once I got moving, momentum followed. I reached out to a client about an invoice, then sketched out a simple cash plan for the next month. Each step was small, but with every move forward, I felt my shoulders loosen. I wasn’t stuck anymore — I was proving to myself that I could handle this. That’s the power of Rule 26: mistakes don’t end the story, they redirect it.
Lesson 2: Perfection Isn’t Real—Adaptation Is
“Another time,” Gibbs continued, “we had a case where every lead dried up. I wanted it to go one way; it went another. I could’ve forced the outcome I had in my head, but the case wasn’t bending. So I adapted. Turned out, the solution was in the details we’d overlooked.
The misstep was thinking I had to be right the first time.”
He gave me a meaningful look, one eyebrow raised. “In life, people think once they find the ‘right’ path, they can’t fail. That’s a lie. People change. Circumstances change. You adapt, or you get stuck. That’s Rule 26.”
Our Turn:
It was like Gibbs was pulling a page straight from my own playbook. I used to think that once I got sober and had my bipolar disorder under control, life would finally be smooth sailing. That was the “perfect path” in my head — no more slip-ups, no more turbulence, just steady progress.
But life doesn’t work that way. The truth hit me hard: challenges still came, moods still shifted, unexpected setbacks still knocked on my door. At first, every stumble felt like proof that I was broken, that maybe I hadn’t really changed. That perfection mindset almost froze me.
Then Rule 26 kicked in. I remembered: Perfection isn’t real — adaptation is. So instead of beating myself up when things didn’t go according to plan, I learned to pivot. On the days when depression kept me in bed, my “win” became getting up for a short walk instead of tackling my whole to-do list. When anxiety hijacked my focus, I paused, breathed, and reset one task at a time.
That shift didn’t just keep me moving — it rebuilt my confidence. Because every adaptation proved the same thing: I didn’t have to be flawless to move forward. I just had to keep showing up.
Lesson 3: Don’t Let Missteps Define You—Let Them Strengthen You
Gibbs leaned back, arms crossed. “The biggest lesson? Your missteps are part of your story, but they don’t define it. I’ve lost agents. Made bad calls. If I let those moments control me, I’d never solve another case. Instead, I use them. They make me sharper, more determined.”
Then he leaned in, his stare cutting right to my core. “You fall back, then you come back stronger. Same with your mental health, Bruce. Bipolar, Anxiety, PTSD — they don’t define you. How you get back up after a bad day… that’s what defines you.”
Our Turn:
The way he said it, I knew Gibbs wasn’t just giving advice. This was a man who lived resilience — it wasn’t a platitude; it was survival. And it hit me because I’d lived it too.
After my suicide attempt, I thought I was defined by failure, by weakness, by the darkest parts of my story. For a long time, I carried that weight like a label I couldn’t peel off. But the truth is, those missteps weren’t the end — they were the start of my fight back.
Each time I chose to use warrior tools over hiding, sobriety over relapse, self-care over self-destruction, I grew stronger!
Wrap Up
We finished our coffee, and Gibbs glanced at his watch. “Well, Bruce,” he said, standing up, “crime doesn’t wait. Neither should you.” Before I could respond with something witty or profound, he was already halfway to the door.
He paused, giving me one last look. “Oh — and Bruce… I’m going to keep reading your book, 53 Mindset Rules of a Mental Health Warrior. I can’t wait to use the other 52 on my life’s adventures.”
And just like that, Gibbs was gone — probably off to solve a case using nothing more than a knowing glance and his gut. I sat there, buzzing from caffeine and an unexpected dose of wisdom, imagining him interrogating my missteps like suspects in a high-stakes case.
But that’s the beauty of Mindset Rule 26: Learn from your missteps, but never stop because of them. Because as Gibbs would say, the case of life is still wide open — and you’ve got more ground to cover, Warrior!
Bruce Schutter
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