Coaching is a funny thing. As a coach, I stand for what people declare when they've got a glimpse of their highest and greatest self. Have you ever had one of those moments? When you really see what you're truly capable of?
"Holy crap", you think to yourself, "I really can have that job that I want, and the spare time to do it in". It's a magical moment.
But then the clock strikes 12, or the evil frog kisses you (I'm pretty sure that happened in some fairy tale. Maybe it was a dream I had), and your ability to perceive your greatest self shrinks back down to its normal size, courtesy of the itty bitty shitty committee.
(That committee is composed of the voices in your head). Just like Cinderella's carriage, your perception of yourself has shrunk back down to a pumpkin.
So as a coach, my job is to stand for you and what you declared you wanted to achieve before the evil frog whispered in your ear (I don't read a lot of fairy tales). Sometimes people find this frustrating. they provide really reasonable objections that they've thought long and hard about:
- "I just realized that I mostly want to work in my garden and keep things simple"
- "I realized that I want to spend most of my time with my kids, and that pursuing a great career won't actually be that fulfilling when I don't get to spend much time at home"
- "I realized that it will take me four years to create that - I don't want to spend that long in school"
Here's the thing. Your objections sound so damn reasonable to your ears. They sound great to your friends and family too. They're totally enrolled in your switch. You have finished transforming back to a pumpkin; and, just like magic, no one remembers when you were a beautiful princess.
Well I do.
See, there's a fly in the ointment. You left behind a glass slipper.
You'll argue with me that that was never you, and that I didn't really get a true glimpse of you, and I was distracted by the ball gown, and all manner of other excuses. But you can't deny it when we put that slipper back on your foot. It fits perfectly.
Your objections sound reasonable because you've gone back to thinking small. If you're thinking small, of course you have to work in the garden to keep things simple. If you were expressing your highest and greatest self, why couldn't you have the career you really want and keep things simple? Why can't you both spend time with your kids and have a powerful, impactful career?
I'll tell you why - because you've gone back to thinking small.
So the crux is that my job is to simultaneously stand for what you declared you wanted to create from your highest and greatest self, and refuse to accept it when you tell me that you've got a new declaration. You've got a new weapon against the itty bitty shitty committee - a vetting process.
The world would be a better place if I wasn't needed. Seriously. Everyone would pursue their highest purpose, and they wouldn't go back on their vision when the voices of fear and doubt raised their hands. But the fact is, that is the way it goes. Your objections are too reasonable to you. They're coated in honey and seductive. They'll whisper in your ear like Wormtongue did Théoden.
Are you enrolled? Do you want to get out from under Wormtongue's influence? The best solution I've discovered is right here.
Here's the funny thing: people often ask me when we complete our work together how they can keep up the momentum and progress we've made. How can they continue to pursue their highest self? The punchline is that the only real answer I've been able to come up with is to hire a coach. Without one, your objections just sound too damn reasonable.
What was the last dream you talked yourself out of? What were the reasons that you decided you weren't able, willing or ready to take that on? Where else do those same objections show up? Start keeping a journal of the reasons you use to stop, and notice the similarities (you'll still be seduced by them, but it's a start).
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