Breathing AIR Into Your Gremlins

Let me introduce you to Kenny.

The name Kenny comes from a schoolboy I knew, who once made fun of my voice. But I don’t know that Kenny—I last saw him when I was 10 or so.

But my Kenny has been with me for as long as I can remember. He’s the voice in my head that started whispering when I was young: “You’re not cool enough.” For years, Kenny drove me to do some foolish things in the name of cool, but he also sparked my personality—punk rock, publishing a fanzine, learning a certain wit and irreverence.

In his own backwards way, Kenny gave me confidence. But over time, I realized that while Kenny was helping me project an image, he was getting in the way of me connecting deeply with others. He kept me performing instead of being authentic.

Kenny had served his purpose, but it was time for him to learn new lessons: authenticity, maturity, and wisdom.

Why am I telling you about Kenny? Because we all have a Kenny. In coaching, we often call these voices gremlins. They’re those internal narratives that start as survival strategies but eventually hold us back. And they don’t just vanish with age or success—they evolve right alongside us. Kenny is sneaky.

That’s where iPEC’s (Institute for Professional Excellence in Coaching, where I did my training) AIR process comes in. It’s a simple framework for handling gremlins like Kenny: Acknowledge, Interrupt, Redirect. It’s one of the tools I use in one form or another with many clients.

Let’s walk through it.

Step 1: Acknowledge

The first step is to call out the gremlin. Name it. Shine a light on it. For me, that meant admitting, “That’s Kenny talking.” Research backs this up: studies on affect labeling show that naming our feelings actually reduces their emotional grip. By saying Kenny’s name, I create distance—I’m not the thought, I’m the thinker.

Acknowledging also creates a moment of compassion. Instead of shoving Kenny into a corner, I get to recognize him as a part of me that once tried to help. That simple recognition makes it easier to work with him instead of fighting against him.

Step 2: Interrupt

Gremlins thrive on autopilot. Kenny loves to whisper his doubts just as I’m about to step into vulnerability. Interrupting him can be as simple as pausing, breathing, or even saying “Stop” in my head. The point isn’t to suppress Kenny—because thought suppression often backfires—but to disrupt the automatic loop long enough to make a conscious choice.

Sometimes I’ll even use humor to break the pattern—since Kenny is a real 10-year-old boy in my head, I imagine the ridiculousness of having a conversation with him fifty years later: “remember the time you said to me….” . That little shift helps me remember: this isn’t truth, it’s just an old tape playing. The interruption is the wedge that gives me room to choose differently.

Step 3: Redirect

Once Kenny is interrupted, I can choose where to focus. Instead of chasing “cool,” I ask: What does authenticity look like here? What would wisdom say? This is where I guide Kenny to sit beside me as a companion rather than a driver. Redirecting isn’t about fake positivity—it’s about shifting into a perspective that’s truer and more empowering.

Sometimes that redirect looks like a new mantra: “Connection matters more than performance.” Other times, it’s a simple question: “What outcome do I want to create in this moment?” By actively redirecting, I’m strengthening new mental pathways—and showing Kenny he has a new role to play.

Why AIR Works

Even though AIR is a coaching framework, it’s rooted in well-documented science:

• Acknowledge → cognitive defusion & affect labeling (naming thoughts reduces their power).

• Interrupt → disrupts automatic negative thought loops (like in cognitive behavioral therapy).

• Redirect → builds new neural pathways and resilience (positive psychology, reappraisal).

It’s not magic, but it is how we start rewiring our minds. Each time I work with Kenny this way, his grip weakens and my authentic voice grows stronger.

The Limitations

Of course, AIR isn’t a cure-all. Over-identifying with your gremlin can backfire. Interrupting can feel like suppression if done rigidly. Redirecting can slide into toxic positivity if it skips over real emotion. The process works best when applied with flexibility, curiosity, and honesty.

My Take

For me, Kenny is still around. I’m grateful for what he gave me, but I no longer let him run the show. When Kenny pipes up, I acknowledge him, interrupt his loop, and redirect toward the leader, coach, and person I want to be. Kenny’s still learning, but so am I.

What Kenny had to teach me when I was younger is now just a part of me. Part of giving Kenny a new role is trusting that what he had to teach me will come out naturally, unforced, and will allow me to be just who I am, not who I hope to be one day.

And that’s the point: our gremlins aren’t enemies to destroy. They’re companions to retrain. With tools like AIR, we can shift from being run by old voices to stepping into our true selves.

Next time you hear your Kenny, try breathing some AIR into the moment. You might be surprised at how much lighter—and truer—it feels.