EDITOR’S NOTE: This article was written while the author was a student. The author has since graduated. The author holds an M.S. Exercise Science degree from West Chester University of Pennsylvania
Trevor Moawad, author of It Takes What It Takes, passed away in September 2021. Yet his influence resonates through the posthumous release of his second book, Getting to Neutral: How to Conquer Negativity and Thrive in a Chaotic World, published in 2022. The book builds on the mindset philosophy of neutral thinking that made Moawad a trusted figure in elite performance circles. In Getting to Neutral, he outlines practical strategies for applying neutral thinking to real-time adversity—reaffirming his core belief that performance begins with a mindset grounded in reality, not emotion. The goal is to break free from the weight of past experiences and focus on what can be controlled in the present to shape the future. As Moawad often said, “The past may be real, but it’s not predictive.”
Moawad’s writing isn’t academic or journalistic—it’s conversational. While that may deter some, it makes his ideas more accessible. The book’s 11 chapters explore different aspects of neutral thinking, and for a clear, non-sports example, Chapter 2—“How to Downshift to Neutral”—delivers. Moawad illustrates the concept through two personal, relatable experiences: his cancer diagnosis and COVID-19. In both cases, the future was uncertain, and he had to stay grounded in the present. It’s easy to be consumed by fear and doubt, but Moawad urges us to focus on what we can control. This doesn’t mean forcing positivity—after all, how can anyone be truly “positive” while facing a terminal illness or global crisis? Instead, he emphasizes staying neutral—accepting what has happened, recognizing what is happening, and asking “What’s the next thing I need to do?”
In Chapter 5, “Behaving Your Way to Success,” Moawad references Navy Admiral William McRaven’s 2014 University of Texas commencement speech, which opens with the simple directive: “Make your bed.” Moawad uses this to introduce a core theme: success isn’t built on big, dramatic moments—it’s built on small, consistent habits. “First you form your habits, then they form you,” he writes, challenging readers to consider whether their behaviors align with their values. If you value health but never prioritize exercise, is that value truly guiding you? He argues that those who rise to the top aren’t always the most talented, but the most consistent. This chapter made me reflect on my own routines and how I often confuse intention with action. Moawad’s reminder, that identity is shaped not by belief, but by habit, challenges us to own not just what we want, but how we show up.
Chapter 6, “Indiana Trevor and the Scroll of Doom,” felt especially relevant in a time when constant negativity seems inescapable. It explores doomscrolling and highlights studies on nonstop news cycles and social media’s impact on mental health—topics I related to personally. I left social media after repeatedly comparing my life to others’ highlight reels. Moawad captures the emotional toll of comparison—something I had felt but never fully expressed. One line stuck with me: “They’re working hard to mask their own insecurities and, in the process, they’re helping create insecurity in you”—a reminder that even those who seem to have it all together often don’t. He closes the chapter with a simple, lasting message: “Set the phone down and get on with your life.” That line helped me reclaim clarity in a world of constant comparison.
In Chapter 7, Moawad shares a line that struck me: “Starve your distractions. Feed your focus.” As someone who struggles to quiet mental noise, that phrase became a personal compass—a reminder to make space for what matters. “Starve your distractions” pushed me to examine the habits and inputs draining my attention and challenged me to be intentional with my time and let go of what keeps me stagnant. “Feed your focus” reinforced that progress isn’t about bursts of inspiration, it’s about daily commitment.
As much as the book resonated with me, it isn’t without flaws. One notable drawback is its pacing. In a time when readers seek clear, actionable insights, Getting to Neutral can take too long to deliver. Moawad often opens with extended backstories that, while insightful, delay the core message—the buildup feels like a long inhale when a sharper breath is needed. The principles are strong, but the path to them can test the reader’s patience.
The book may further lose some readers due to frequent name-dropping, especially when references to elite athletes don’t resonate. That said, Getting to Neutral feels more grounded and introspective than Moawad’s first book, with less explicit language and a more measured tone. A quieter humility runs through the pages, likely shaped by the personal challenges he was facing.
The final chapter, “There Is No Finish Line,” feels like an unexpected conclusion centering on stories about Billy Donovan, coach of the Chicago Bulls. Though sincere, these reflections didn’t quite resonate—but just before the close, Moawad delivers the line that brings it all together:
“We’re all in charge of our wins and losses because we’re in charge of what we do next…So as you look into your future, don’t assign so much weight to things that haven’t happened yet.”
Moawad closes with a message of empowerment:
“None of what has happened in the past predicts the future. Every moment is its own adventure. So you own that next moment. And the next. And the next. And you keep going.”
Did he know it would be the last page he’d ever write? His final message feels intentional—meant to help the reader move forward with hope, clarity, and the confidence to do so without him. For me, it was a lasting reminder that the next moment is always unwritten—and that continuing on is both the challenge and the reward.
