What happens when life throws you into a storm you never chose? For former AFL star Kobe Stevens, it was concussion and early retirement. For mind coach Emma Murray, it was her son Will’s devastating spinal cord injury at age 13.

In this episode of The Remade Podcast, Kobe and Emma dive deep into fear, trauma, and resilience; they also reveal what it really takes to heal when life breaks you open.

The Day Life Changed Forever

Emma recalls the moment doctors woke her son and told him he would never move again.

“I couldn’t cope with that moment. It unlocks a part of you that you didn’t know existed.”

From that day forward, life became survival, not just for Will, but for the whole family.

Lifting Heavy When You Don’t Have a Choice

Emma compares resilience to strength training.

“We are wired for comfort. But sometimes life throws us into circumstances where you have to lift heavy. And from that, you gain strength and perspective.”

For Kobe, lifting heavy meant facing invisible symptoms of concussion: headaches, memory loss, and mood swings that no one else could see.

“People can see a broken leg. With concussion, they just think you’ve got a headache. You feel weak, like you’re going crazy.”

Fear Is Fuel

Fear isn’t the enemy, Emma argues, “it’s the driver.

“Fear is fear. An athlete’s fear of failure is real. My son’s fear was real. Fear moves us. And we need it.”

She describes two paths’ athletes take: the warrior, who controls what they can, and the magician, who surrenders to trust and belief that things are working out.

Acceptance Over Gratitude

After the accident, people told Emma to “be grateful Will was alive.” But that felt empty.

“With spinal cord injury, there’s no cure. Healing isn’t passive, you have to treat it like training. Be elite at healing.”

For her, resilience was less about gratitude and more about acceptance: facing reality as it is, without judgment.

The Eye of the Storm

Emma explains resilience like weather. Life is a storm for everyone, but sometimes it becomes a hurricane.

“In a hurricane, you’re forced to find the eye stillness, clarity, acceptance.”

In those moments, the present becomes an anchor. It’s what allowed Emma to walk into her son’s hospital room with clarity instead of collapse.

Concussion and the Hidden Storm

Kobe shares how hard it was to recover from concussions, not just physically but emotionally.

“The worst part was people not getting it. You look fine on the outside, but inside you’re broken. It makes you feel weak and ashamed.”

Emma connects his story with countless families she’s seen navigating brain injuries. Unlike visible injuries, the battle inside the mind often goes unseen, and that invisibility makes it heavier.

Lessons We Can All Take

From trauma and recovery come powerful truths:

• Fear isn’t weakness, it’s wiring. The key is how you channel it.
• Invisible battles are real. Just because you can’t see pain doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
• Acceptance beats forced gratitude. Facing reality is the foundation of growth.
• Healing takes ownership. Recovery is training, effort, repetition, resilience.
• Presence is power. Now is where strength lives.

The Role of Community: Villa Licci

Kobe Stevens’ story shows the invisible, life-altering impact of traumatic brain injuries (TBI). Unlike visible injuries, TBI affects memory, emotions, and daily functioning, making understanding and recovery challenging. His journey, guided by expert support from Emma Murray, highlights the need for awareness, deliberate healing, and empathy lessons that extend beyond elite sports to everyday life.

Conversations like these remind us that resilience is not a solo journey. That’s why partnerships matter. This episode is proudly sponsored by Villa Licci, a pioneering brain injury community dedicated to providing connection, care, and purpose for survivors. Much like Kobe and Emma remind us, Villa Licci believes that healing is not just about recovery, it’s about rebuilding a meaningful life surrounded by people who truly understand.

Final Thoughts

Kobe’s invisible battle with concussion and Emma’s journey through her son’s paralysis reveal one truth: storms will come for all of us. The only choice is how we respond.

“We need fear. Because without it, we’d never lift heavy. And without lifting heavy, we’d never discover how strong we really are.” — Emma Murray

Catch the full conversation on The Remade Podcast: “Australia’s Top Mind Coach: We Need Fear.”

Enjoyed This Podcast? You May Also Like:

• Koby Stevens and Villa Licci Launch The Remade Podcast with Powerful First Episode Featuring Eric Bana
• From Glory to Growth: Inside the Mind of Aaron Taylor, Triumph, Trauma, and Life After Football – Episode 2

In the latest episode of The Remade Podcast, host Koby Stevens sits down with Aaron Taylor, former Green Bay Packers and San Diego Chargers guard, for a powerful and deeply personal conversation. From his standout years at Notre Dame to winning Super Bowl XXXI with the Packers, Taylor reflects not only on the heights of his football career but also on the heavy price he paid along the way.

Beyond the field, he opens up about the challenges of transitioning out of the NFL—sharing how resilience, accountability, and honesty became his tools for recovery. Taylor also discusses the impact of learning about his own traumatic brain injury (TBI), his friendship with Hall of Fame linebacker Junior Seau, and the ongoing journey of healing and growth.

This episode, brought to listeners by Villa Licci, offers an honest look at the struggles behind the glory and the hope that comes with rebuilding life after the game.

Before diving into this powerful episode, host Koby Stevens takes a moment to acknowledge the show’s major sponsor, Villa Licci, a visionary nonprofit building the first-ever community designed specifically for adults living with traumatic brain injuries (TBI). Their mission is to create a safe, supportive space that empowers individuals on their journey of recovery. If this message resonates with you, you can learn more or support the movement at villalicci.org.

Aaron Taylor’s Football Journey: Triumphs and Lessons

Aaron Taylor’s football story is one of extraordinary achievements and the subtle lessons that come with it. From a standout career at Notre Dame, where he earned two All-American honors, to the pinnacle of professional success with a Super Bowl XXXI victory with the Green Bay Packers, Taylor’s journey embodies both glory and sacrifice.

Reflecting on those years, Taylor admits that his perspective has shifted over time.

“Being able to play at that level for as long as I did, despite the injuries, and having the experience of winning a Super Bowl, that’s something I’ll always be proud of. But I also got to see the price that was paid for it.”

He laughs at the memories of showing off his ring, a symbol of ultimate achievement in the NFL. “Back when I was single, it felt huge. Now? I’d just smile and say, ‘Hey, that’s my Super Bowl ring. What’s your number?’”

For Taylor, pride doesn’t just come from accolades or trophies. It comes from the experience of being part of something bigger than himself—the camaraderie, the discipline, and the moments that tested his limits. He considers himself fortunate to have been in the right place at the right time, surrounded by great teammates and mentors who shaped his path from high school, through Notre Dame, and into the NFL.

“I think about the players who were 20 times better than I ever imagined being, who came close but never got there. I had a knack for being around the right people at the right time, and that made all the difference.”

Taylor’s journey is a reminder that success in sports (and in life) is rarely just about talent. It’s about timing, resilience, and understanding the price of the game, both the visible triumphs and the hidden costs.

Glory and the Price of Success

Taylor’s football résumé is impressive: two-time All-American at Notre Dame, first-round draft pick, and a Super Bowl champion with the Packers. To many, that represents the pinnacle of achievement.

But for Taylor, the perspective has shifted with time.

“What I’m most proud of isn’t the ring. It’s being able to play at that level for as long as I did, despite the injuries. I got to see the price that was paid for it—and that was as big a lesson as the success.”

The NFL, he explains, is an environment where toughness isn’t optional, it’s the ticket to survival. Painkillers, injections, and “playing through” became routine. “We used to joke that the NFL stood for Not For Long,” Taylor recalls. “The average career is 3.2 years. You do whatever it takes to stay on the field.”

That mindset, he admits, came with invisible costs, both physical and emotional.

Hidden Injuries and Escaping the Pain

Behind the glory of game day, Taylor paints a picture of locker rooms filled with quiet suffering. Painkillers passed around like poker chips. Alcohol used to take the edge off. Laughter masking exhaustion.

“The cost to carry that burden is extraordinary. We used any means we could to let the pressure off.”

But when the routine of football ended, so did the structure that gave life rhythm. One injury could erase not just a paycheck, but an identity.

“If I’ve always been what I’ve always done, who am I now that I’m no longer playing football?”

Retiring at 28: The American Dream and Its Dark Side

Taylor retired young, at just 28. On paper, life looked perfect: money in the bank, cars in the driveway, no debt, no worries. To the outside world, he was living the dream.

Inside, however, he was crumbling.

“It was the darkest period of my life. I’d checked all the boxes. But if I still felt empty, what was the point?”

He chased adrenaline in new ways: nights out, fights, chaos, anything to replace the rush of Sundays. But nothing came close. Retirement forced him to confront questions most people avoid until later in life: Who am I when the spotlight goes dark?

The Brain as a Supercomputer

A turning point came when Taylor underwent a brain scan with Dr. Daniel Amen. It revealed the lasting effects of traumatic brain injuries.

“I had both hardware and software issues. TBIs affected my wiring. But emotionally, I was also stuck in patterns, fear, anxiety, unhealthy coping. I had to reboot and rewire.”

He began to explore neuroplasticity, meditation, and gratitude. Small daily practices became lifesaving anchors.

“Gratitude is the elixir. When I focus on what I have instead of what I lack, my world changes.”

Junior Seau

No chapter of Taylor’s story is more poignant than his relationship with Junior Seau, his Chargers teammate and a Hall of Famer whose tragic death by suicide in 2012 shook the NFL.

Taylor recalls a moment of hope, when Seau stood up at a recovery meeting and openly listed his struggles.

“In our world, that was hope. If Junior could be that honest, maybe there was light at the end of the tunnel.”

But soon after, Seau disappeared from contact. When news broke of his death, Taylor wasn’t surprised, only heartbroken.

“Playing with broken bones, that was easy. But dealing with life on life’s terms? That was harder than anything.”

Seau’s story underscores the urgency of opening up conversations about brain health and building communities of support, something Villa Licci is working to provide for people living with TBIs.

Building Resilience Through Recovery

Taylor doesn’t sugarcoat the recovery process. It’s messy, imperfect, and ongoing.

“I get tired. But there’s this little voice that says, ‘Get up. Begin again.’ That’s what resilience is.”

Through meditation, service, and community, he’s built a toolkit that helps him rebound faster from setbacks. What took months to overcome now takes hours or minutes.

Living an Ideal Life

At 51, Taylor describes his life not as perfect, but as grounded.

“If you gave me a magic wand to change anything, I wouldn’t take it. I’m grateful. I’m living my ideal life. That doesn’t mean it’s easy. But it’s worth it.”

He now channels his energy into helping others rediscover purpose.

“We can unlearn the way we’ve learned to be. We can rewire our brains. We can choose differently. That’s the torch I want to carry.”

A Final Word

The conversation between Aaron Taylor and Koby Stevens is raw, vulnerable, and deeply human. It’s about resilience, healing, and the courage to redefine yourself after loss.

Thanks to the support of Villa Licci, stories like these reach audiences who need them most. For those living with traumatic brain injuries or anyone navigating life after adversity, Taylor’s message is clear: begin again, there’s a way out, and it’s worth the work.

To learn more about Villa Licci and their mission to build a first-of-its-kind community for adults with TBI, visit villalicci.org.

Watch Now: Aaron Taylor’s Journey from Super Bowl Glory to Personal Transformation

This conversation isn’t just for sports fans, but for anyone who’s ever faced adversity, questioned their purpose, or sought a path to healing. Aaron’s story is a testament to resilience, accountability, and the power of transformation.

Don’t miss this inspiring episode: Watch Aaron Taylor’s Interview on YouTube

Enjoyed This Podcast? You May Also Like:

• Koby Stevens and Villa Licci Launch The Remade Podcast with Powerful First Episode Featuring Eric Bana

A Story of Resilience, Recovery, and the Need for Long-Term TBI Support

Matthew Carmichael’s journey is not your typical accident story—it’s a painful reminder of how trauma can come from the people closest to us.

It began in his senior year of high school when Matthew started dating a young woman with a history of emotional instability. As his parents, we sensed early on that something wasn’t right. They argued often, and we knew she struggled with serious behavior issues. But like many teenagers, Matthew was determined to make his own choices.

After graduation, instead of heading to college, Matthew moved in with her. What we didn’t realize at the time was that her own parents had already cut ties, having asked her to leave their home due to her violent outbursts. Once living together, the emotional abuse escalated into physical violence.

One night, in a fit of rage, she shoved Matthew from behind. He fell face-first into a concrete parking block. The impact was devastating—he lost all of his teeth and had to undergo full dental reconstruction. But that was just the beginning.

Not long after, Matthew suffered a traumatic brain injury (TBI) following another violent encounter. The injury was so severe he was hospitalized in critical condition with a major brain bleed. He couldn’t walk, talk, breathe, or eat on his own. He required a feeding tube and full respiratory support. It was a parent’s worst nightmare.

After weeks in rehab, he was released home under one condition: no contact with his abuser. This was in 2017. We hoped this would be the start of his recovery.

But like many TBI survivors, recovery wasn’t linear. Matthew began experiencing unpredictable seizures, sometimes collapsing without warning. At the time, I was working two jobs to make ends meet and couldn’t be there every second. One day, he fell in our kitchen and ended up back in the hospital—this time, doctors weren’t sure he would survive.

Miraculously, he pulled through. But he came home with far fewer abilities than before. Today, Matthew needs 24/7 care. He struggles with PTSD and social anxiety, especially around unfamiliar people. His physical strength is limited—he can’t stand for long, and we use a wheelchair for anything beyond a few steps.

He has some independence, but it’s minimal. And as his parents, we constantly worry about what happens when we’re no longer here to care for him.

The thought of Matthew spending his life in a nursing home—a place that isn’t built for young survivors like him—is heartbreaking. We believe he’s still here for a reason. He deserves more than just survival. He deserves a place where he can grow, connect, and thrive.

That’s why we believe so deeply in Villa Licci. A community like this would give us peace of mind, knowing that Matthew would not only be safe—but truly supported. A place designed for adults living with TBI, where residents can find independence within community, access critical services, and live with dignity and purpose.

Villa Licci isn’t just a project. For families like ours, it’s hope.

— Julia Carmichael, Matthew’s Mother

My name is Ryan Quick.  I grew up in Westfield, Indiana.  After high school, I went to Wabash College then Butler University, graduating in 2004 with a degree in Psychology.  After graduation I struggled for several years to find my way, but eventually I got a job working for Fathers and Families as an Education Specialist.  I helped young men (and women) pass the G.E.D. and obtain their high school diploma.  I found this to be very rewarding, and after three years there, I felt I had really found my calling.  I decided that I wanted to be a high school mathematics teacher.

In October of 1012, this all came to a crashing end one really stormy evening on my way home from work.  Going through an intersection my car hit a large puddle, hydroplaned, spun around, and collided with an oncoming truck.  I ended up at Wishard Hospital with a Traumatic Brain Injury.

Now my previous life, ambitions, and desires have been put aside.  My former friends have all moved on with their lives.  When I contact them on social media, I rarely hear back.  My parents and their friends are now the people upon whom I depend.  My only social outlets are church and Heads or Tails, a TBI social group that meets once or twice a month.

In the years since my accident I have been focused on recovery.  This has included all manner of therapies.  I now go to physical therapy, water therapy, art therapy, adaptive yoga, and activate brain and body therapy.  Though I still have significant left side impairment that renders me unable to walk, my improvement over the past 12 years motivates me to continue my therapy.

I share an apartment with another disabled gentleman.  We have staff assistance with some of the activities of daily living, but I am slowly becoming more independent.  I aspire to someday live in at Villa Licci, a community where TBI survivors with similar needs and concerns can thrive together as independently as possible.

In the summer of 2011, Andrea’s life was filled with the stereotypical activities of a Hoosier mom. She was married to the love of her life with a four-year-old daughter and enjoyed country music, her career, spending time with her family and friends, and training for an upcoming half marathon.

Drew was a high-achieving college student majoring in Biomedical Engineering at Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology. He was planning to apply to medical school with dreams of pediatric orthopedic surgery as an occupation. He was enjoying a successful athletic career as a starting safety on the football team and very involved with his fraternity.

Nic was always very active physically and in gifted classes at school. He participated in numerous sports as a child, including baseball, soccer, football, swimming, and wrestling. Nic played four years of varsity football and wrestling – winning wrestling sectionals for his weight class his junior year of high school.

On January 15, 1989, a wonderful, beautiful baby boy was born. It certainly did not take him long to start showing the world exactly how special he was. He decided that he had places to go and at nine months he was walking and exploring this beautiful planet.

Brigette was your typical 19-year-old college student without a care in the world. In her eyes, life was perfect. She was a solid student, having graduated Brebeuf Jesuit High School in Indianapolis. In addition to her academic success, she was a skilled artist, had played four years of high school basketball, and ran cross country and track.